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#I solemnly swear that I'm up to no good
chaoticrebels · 6 months
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Ren managed to sneak into Eddie's room while he was in the shower and place the wrapped box on his bed with a note that said "Happy birthday to the best guy in the world!" attached to it.
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Hearing the water from the bathroom start she quickly ran back out to the kitchen to work on making popcorn for their movie marathon. She couldn't wait for him to open it because Ren knew he was going to flip his shit when he saw the shirt and the two concert tickets underneath it.
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And there was a scream coming from his bedroom, face lit up in wonder as his stared at his gift. The towel wrapped around his waist falling to the ground as his fingers held the tickets, thumb running along them as if they were fragile. Eddie couldn't believe that Ren had gone and done this when she didn't even want a gift herself, not that the male had listened to the female but still. ❝Serenity Winchester, you did not. Tell me that I am dreaming, Jesus bloody fuckin' Christ. You better believe you are my plus one if this is indeed real.❞
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twistedstxrs · 1 year
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Billy wraps his arm around eddies waist, pressing a gentle kiss to the back of his neck as a small smile perked up on the corner of his lips. „ happy birthday, baby. “ , the dirty blonde purrs quietly inside his boyfriends ears as he settles a coffin shaped velvet box in front of him and nuzzles against his cheek. „ your other present is waiting upstairs. not like you don’t know what it is ,but all prepared and ready to be at your mercy. ” , billy humms and tugs with his teeth on his earlobe. „ just wanted you to have this before we occupy you for the rest of the day. “
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✪↬✘ @shatterxdsouls ✘↫✪
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The metalhead lips curved upwards when he felt the Californian’s arms around his waist and lips against the back of his neck, chocolate hues flickering down to the present in his hands. Then his face lit up like the fourth of July. ❝Thank you baby, I love it.❞ Eddie purred before his lips curved into a smirk. ❝Is it a certain pretty boy naked and needy for attention?❞ Munson inquired even though he already knew it was, since fucking around on their birthday was a thing with them. A soft moan escaping his throat at the tug before the male squirmed free so he could reposition in his boyfriend’s arms. ❝That’s fair but how about a lift upstairs, daddy so we can get this party started?❞
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shelbgrey · 1 year
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Happy birthday to the greatest pranksters to ever live.
George and Fred Weasley
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amillixnvoicesarch · 10 months
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❝ you’re amazing, you know that? ❞ - ( Remus ) @leschanceux​
      James is USED to getting compliments, it comes with...well, being who he is, essentially, but most of those compliments are superficial. It’s not that he doesn’t enjoy them, he does, but none of them compare to the words of his friends. There’s true MEANING to those, and they make a spark of warmth settle in his chest from where he’s sitting next to Remus on the bed.
      The rest of the Marauders are asleep, snoring more or less lightly, and James can’t help but SMILE, leaning over to bump his shoulder against the other’s. “I don’t want to oppose,” He teases then, “but may I ask what brought that on? You know, just out of pure curiosity.”
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syncopatedid · 2 years
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Made an 8-min music mashup of the train ride back to Iwatobi from The Final Stroke movie, featuring the different "Rhythm" bgm soundtracks from the Free! OSTs. Enjoy the extended ride. :)    [00:01] Rhythm of Port Town - Free! Iwatobi Swim Club [01:41] Rhythm of New Sensation - Free! Dive to the Future [04:21] Rhythm of Pure Memories - Free! Timeless Medley [06:23] Rhythm of Home Town - Free! The Final Stroke (Pt 1)
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take care of yourself!!!!! (threat)
okay but what if,,,,,,,,,, i don't,,,,,,,,,,,,, what will you do then,,,,,,,,,,,,,,,,,,,,, /hj
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trickstercaptain · 1 year
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WIZARDING WORLD VERSE.
A half-blood wizard, Jack isn’t a natural fit in the Slytherin house at first, having requested that the Sorting Hat place him there ( instead of Ravenclaw ) in order to follow in the footsteps of his ‘family’ of Gryffindors and Slytherins – but while he still remains a bit of an outcast, he eventually finds his place among the cunning folk of the snake house and becomes renowned for stirring up trouble within the walls of Hogwarts. 
Once he leaves the school with his NEWTs, Jack pursues his particular interest in curious and interesting magical artefacts. He gains employment as a Curse Breaker for the Ministry, travelling the world in search of far-flung treasures, but his association with some of Voldemort's sycophantic followers costs him his reputation, and eventually leads him into the lucrative business of smuggling during the inter-war years.
His name even becomes associated with the shady Borgin and Bourkes shop on Knockturn Alley – that is, until Voldemort’s return to power. His mother and father being former Order members, and the former dying at the hands of Death Eaters when he was seven years old, Jack covertly throws his support to the resistance movement led by Dumbledore, though still holding his cards rather close to his chest.
FULL BIO UNDER THE CUT.
Born a halfblood into a family of pureblood smugglers, Jack was dismissed an outcast even before he could walk, much less wield a wand. Being a muggle born wizard, his mother’s relationship with his pureblood father had garnered disapproval from the very start, most notably from the matriarch of his family and, in the culture of pre-first wizarding war London, was ultimately doomed to a tragic end. An anonymous tip off to Voldemort’s followers ( coming from Teague’s mother, no less ), during his first rise to power, of a muggle-born member of the Order of the Phoenix had Death Eaters arrive at Jack’s familial home when he was seven. Only hiding in a cupboard managed to spare him from the killing curse, and Jack spent the rest of his early childhood meeting the gaze of a father who unconsciously resented his survival.
Fortunately, amidst the mistreatment and neglect during his earlier years, Teague’s former betrothed, a young pureblood witch named Hattie Price, steps in and attempts to fill the void created by his mother’s death. Jack turns eleven, is sorted into Slytherin at Hogwarts ( after some deliberation between the snake house and Ravenclaw on the Sorting Hat’s part ), and Voldemort is not defeated at the hands of The Boy Who Lived until his final year at the school.
During his Hogwarts years themselves, it isn’t long before Jack gains himself a reputation at the school as a troublemaker, but an ambitious, intelligent one; he is aided by the teachers to pursue his dreams of travelling the wizarding world as a curse-breaker, showing a particular talent in the art of transfiguration and charms. Leaving the school with the NEWTs he needs, Jack undergoes training by Gringotts’ goblins and begins an independent life uncovering hidden treasure and artefacts across the four corners of the world. A year passes, and he is offered work as a foreign operative by an official of the Ministry for Magic, Cutler Beckett, along with an old-fashioned sailship to use as he pleases in his new venture: the Wicked Wench. With his exposure to sailing during his youth, Jack falls in love on first sight, and gladly accepts the man’s offer.
Not long after this, Jack encounters an enigmatic French wizard by the name of Christophe-Julien de Rapièr, and the two become extremely close in a short space of time. So assured of the man’s moral character, when aurors arrive to apprehend him and throw him in Azkaban, believing him to be a devout of the late Lord Voldemort, Jack is moved to extreme lengths to help him escape their capture. Only once the men are clear of their assailants and on the run does Christophe’s true loyalty become clear, and Jack is dragged unwillingly into his underground gang of sycophants. The Daily Prophet reports Jack Sparrow as turning on the Ministry in favour of bringing back the dark days of Voldemort’s reign of terror, and he is not only made a fugitive, but labelled a Death Eater in all but name.
Jack’s attempts to expose his employer were also left in tatters by this betrayal; shortly before Christophe’s arrest, he had been preparing to reveal to the Ministry Beckett’s illicit business interests in the trafficking of muggles. Seen now as purely an attempt to smear his superior to cover his own loyalties to Voldemort, his allegations are automatically dismissed.
But that ends up as the very least of his worries. Now aware of the true moral depravity of his former friend, Jack plots to undo his previous wrongs, and enlists the help of allies, both familial and from his time at Hogwarts, to ensure Christophe’s imprisonment in Azkaban for good. Successfully framing him, the Frenchman is taken prisoner and Jack is brought to the Wizengamot where, thanks primarily to Dumbledore’s influence during the trial, the charges brought against him are dismissed.
Although, not everyone was happy with the verdict. Despite not being able to legitimately call for Jack’s arrest, Beckett was still keen on revenge, and sends men to attack Jack’s ship – not realising that Jack himself was on board. He manages to cast a spell to save the vessel from sinking, but not before the fire damage chars the hull of the ship. The next few months are spent restoring her to her former glory, before painting her black and rechristening her the Black Pearl.
In the years that follow, Jack retreats further and further into the shadows of wizarding society. No longer able to gain legitimate employment anywhere as a curse-breaker, Jack turns to the family profession of smuggling, specialising in the identification and obtaining of magical artefacts and becoming associated with Borgin and Bourkes on Knockturn Alley. It’s during this time that Voldemort’s return to power becomes more and more assured, with the smearing of Dumbledore and Harry Potter in the press and culminating in the escape of Death Eaters ( including Christophe ) from Azkaban.
With the escape of Christophe returns the rumours of Jack’s associations to the Dark Lord, only heightening the danger that he finds himself in, caught between the light and the dark as the Frenchman plots to hunt him down. But this also functions as the impetus Jack needs to throw his support behind the Order and clear his name for good.
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omitmedley · 6 months
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Credits
Currently filter: Spring Cookie by Kittenkaju
Icon boarder template by me!
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the-red-ecks · 2 years
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Hey @pmseymourva ... you have seen the dinosammich... now raise heck on.....
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Teh Wal-Ouija board....
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roosterforme · 11 months
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How Could I Forget? | Rooster x Reader
Summary: When Bradley met you in a dive bar in Virginia, he just knew he wasn't going to be able to stop thinking about you. Even a year later, he still remembers your laugh and the way you kissed him.
Warnings: Fluff, drinking and swearing
Length: 2800 words
Pairing: Bradley "Rooster" Bradshaw x Female Reader
I wrote this for the 'Its not the prompt. It's the creator' challenge from @tgm-all4one. Check out my masterlist for more!
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Bradley flipped through the options in the ancient jukebox while he sipped a cheap beer. This had to be the shittiest bar he'd ever been inside, and that was really saying something, since he was a University of Virginia alumni. 
"Let's see..." he muttered. "Danger Zone? No. Take My Breath Away? Nah. Slow Ride? Absolutely not."
He finally selected Great Balls of Fire and turned to check where his cousins had disappeared off to. But the bar was packed with locals waiting for the fireworks to start over the Chesapeake Bay, and he couldn't spot any of them. 
If they ditched him in this sticky little hellhole on the outskirts of Norfolk, Virginia, he was going to be so pissed. He scanned the bar once more as the song started playing, and his eyes settled on the cutest thing he had seen in a long time. 
You were holding your beer bottle like a microphone and aggressively lip syncing along with Jerry Lee Lewis as his voice blasted from the jukebox. 
Bradley smiled. You were right in the middle of the crowded bar, but nobody else had seemed to notice how you were shimmying along to the song, looking adorable in your own little world. Your eyes were squeezed shut as you mouthed Come on baby, you drive me crazy! Goodness, gracious, great balls of fire!
When Bradley laughed, you opened your eyes, and they met his immediately. You pressed your lips together, suddenly looking shy at being caught rocking out. You covered your mouth with your hand in embarrassment as your eyes went wider while Bradley tried to squeeze through the crowd to get to you. 
He was afraid you were going to try to sneak off, but you didn't. You were just nonchalantly drinking your beer when he reached you. 
"That was quite a performance," he said, and you looked up at him, clearly amused. 
"I don't know what you're talking about," you replied, but your smirk said otherwise. 
"That was my song," he said, nodding toward the jukebox.
"What do you mean?" you asked, pressing the bottle to your lips, and drawing Bradley's eyes down to watch the way you took a sip, the bottle lingering on your bottom lip for a beat.
"I selected it. On the jukebox," he grunted, and you laughed at him. 
"No, you didn't. I did."
Bradley scoffed as you squared your shoulders and jutted out your chin in playful defiance. "I chose it like three minutes ago," Bradley insisted. 
"I picked it like five minutes ago!" Your laugh was infectious, and Bradley just wanted to keep it going.
He shook his head solemnly. "It's still my song."
And you shook your head, imitating him. "If anything, it's Jerry Lee Lewis's song."
"Well, I can't argue with that. I did love your cover version though."
"Thanks." God, your smile was adorable. And your lips on that bottle had him thinking some scandalous things about your mouth. 
He cleared his throat. "Are you from Norfolk?"
You sighed deeply. "Unfortunately. You?"
"Virginia Beach."
You crinkled your nose and made a face that had him laughing again. "That might be even worse. You still live there?"
"For now," he replied. "I'm waiting on a new work assignment."
"Can I tell you a secret?" you asked, and when Bradley nodded, you coaxed him closer with your finger. Gorgeous. You were so pretty, Bradley was afraid he wouldn't be able to comprehend your words this close to your eyelashes and your mouth. "I escaped. I live in San Diego now."
"Bravo," he whispered, but he knew you could still hear him over the jukebox as it played Slow Ride. "What's it like to escape Virginia? I've only ever read about it in works of fiction. I've never met anyone who actually managed to do it."
You laughed again, and Bradley had to fight the urge to kiss you. He didn't even know your fucking name, but he was dying to feel your lips on his. 
"It wasn't easy," you promised. "Oh, no, my friend, it was not easy. My whole family still lives here, in Norfolk. My brother is in the damn Navy, if you can believe that. What a waste of a career, right?" you said with a massive eye roll. Bradley opened his mouth to respond, but you added, "Today is his birthday. Born on the Fourth of July, in the military, model citizen. I come home for his birthday every year and end up in this shitty bar every year." 
Bradley couldn't contain his smile. "I'm in the Navy."
Your eyes went wide. "Oh, shit. The Navy is the best!" you said brightly. "Oh boy, do I ever wish I had joined the Navy!"
Bradley tipped his head back and laughed harder. "I like you. You're brutally honest," he said, still laughing as you bit your lip, unable to stop smiling. 
"I'm so sorry," you said, trying not to laugh. "Come here. Let me buy you another beer to make up for the fact that you're in the Navy, you poor thing."
Bradley just shook his head, but then you took his hand in yours and gently led him to the bar. And you kept your hand linked with his while you ordered two drinks. But when you started to reach into your pocket to pay, Bradley took both of your hands in his larger one, and you looked up at him, surprised. 
"I've got it," he told you, pulling some cash out of his own pocket. "It's not every day you meet a celebrity."
"Celebrity?" you asked, and he pulled you closer by both hands. 
"You escaped Virginia! Buying you a drink would have to give me good karma! Who knows, maybe I'll even get stationed somewhere new." 
Bradley released your hands when the beers arrived, but you didn't move away from him. "Where do you want to get stationed?" you asked, and Bradley couldn't look away from the curve of your lips as you took the first sip from the bottle. 
"Somewhere warm," he told you. "But I guess I could learn how to brave some cold weather if I had to."
When the woman behind you bumped into you, Bradley could feel the warmth from your body through his clothes. You were that close. He wanted you closer. And then you were snug up against the front of him. "Well, I think you're brave," you told him with wide, teasing eyes.
"Because I'm in the Navy?" he asked, taking a sip of his beer as you shook your head. 
"No," you told him with a soft laugh. "Because you dare to sport a mustache. Almost nobody can pull that off." Now you were giggling as he ran his fingers along his facial hair. 
"I think you're having a lot of fun at my expense here tonight," he told you. "I think you like me."
You were quiet for a few seconds, and Bradley's heart beat a little faster when you said, "I think you like me, too."
"What's not to like?" he whispered, and your eyes fluttered closed as he ran his fingers along your cheek. "You stole my song. You hate my job. You made fun of my facial hair. And you managed to hijack my escape from this state, because surely the odds of two of us getting out are just too high."
And then you kissed him. Just a soft brush of your lips to his. But it was perfect. And then the fireworks started outside, but you stayed right there with him, your hand coming to rest on his chest. 
Everyone else rushed out to the deck or down along the water to watch the colorful display, even the bartender. But you didn't move an inch, and now Bradley was setting down his beer. This time he kissed you, and you nibbled on his lower lip as your other hand tangled in his hair. Bradley's hands went to your waist, as he tasted you. Beer and something kind of sweet. 
"What's your name?" Bradley asked between kisses, and when you told him, the sound of it echoed through his mind. He whispered it back to you, against your lips as you dragged your fingernails along his scalp. "I'm Bradley."
"Hi, Bradley," you said with a smile between kisses. "I'm sorry I stole your song. And I actually think your mustache is cute."
He was smiling so much against your neck as he kissed you there. "I'm really happy I came to this shitty bar tonight."
"Me too," you gasped as he sucked on you there before returning his lips to yours. These hurried, needy kisses turned more languid as they slowed down. You had pushed Bradley back onto an empty stool, your palms on his splayed thighs as he stroked your neck and face while you kissed. Every little moan and gasp had him coaxing you closer, and then the fireworks ended. The other patrons started trickling back into the bar as your lips nudged his in one final kiss. 
You pulled away from him, smiling and sliding your hands down to his knees. He leaned a little close to your face, ready to beg for one more kiss as he said, "Please, let me have your phone number."
You leaned in and kissed the corner or his lips before you backed away. Bradley was up out of the stool, chasing the warmth of your body, but you shook your head.
"That's not a good idea," you told him, gently pressing your palm to his chest, and it took you a few beats to meet his eyes. "And make you pine for me from afar?" you asked with a soft, teasing smile. "I couldn't live with that."
Bradley whispered your name about a dozen times in a row until your eyes closed. He kissed you softly and said, "I'm pretty sure I'll be doing that anyway. Pining for you."
You looked up at him, gaze darting between his lips and his eyes, almost like you were about to cave. But you shook your head and said, "You'll forget all about me by tomorrow."
Then someone called your name from the other side of the bar and stole your attention from him. And Bradley felt all the perfect flirtation and banter and kisses slipping through his grasp. 
"I need to go," you told him, and you looked so sad. "I hope you escape Virginia."
He nodded slightly, running his thumb across your soft cheek one more time. "I know this sounds weird, but I'm going to miss you."
And then you kissed him again, as if you understood exactly what he meant. And then you were gone. 
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Bradley thought about you a lot. Sometimes he let your name grace his tongue with the sweet feel of it. Sometimes he would daydream about your laugh. But the moment he opened his mail in late August and read the line detailing the location of his new station, a slew of obscenities flew out of his mouth. 
San Diego. He was going to be stationed in San Diego. 
And he had no idea how to reach you. He only knew your first name. But he spent his first few months there hopeful that he would run into you somewhere. So he visited different grocery stores. He took different running tails. He went to the mall across town once. And each time he did one of those things, he felt ridiculous. Stupid. Idiotic. Until he remembered your smile and the way you made him feel so good while also poking fun at him. 
As the months wore on, he went on dates and kissed other girls, but he still thought about you sometimes. When he listened to Jerry Lee Lewis, he pictured you singing into your beer bottle. When he drank a cheap beer, he could almost hear your laugh. 
You had told him that you go to that same shitty bar every year on your brother's birthday. But just as Bradley purchased tickets for a roundtrip flight from San Diego to Norfolk, he realized you probably didn't even remember him. What was he going to do? Walk into that bar and tell you he missed you? You'd look at him like he was insane. Or worse, like you had no fucking clue who he was. 
He thought about not going. Just letting the tickets go to waste. But at the very least, he would be able to visit his cousins for the night. At the very least, he might just be able to see you again, just for a minute. 
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You sat at the bar, across the room from your brother. You didn't know why you still bothered to come home for the weekend every year, but here you were. In Norfolk. Again. 
As politely as you could, you turned down the red headed guy who tried to buy you a drink. And you did the same thing to the blond, too. Because now you associated this shithole bar with wavy, sandy brown hair and big, brown puppy eyes. And you weren't about to override your memories from one year ago with some random loser who wanted to buy you a can of Miller Lite. 
You hoped Bradley was currently stationed somewhere warm, near a beach. It always made you smile to picture him with his feet in the sand, drinking a beer.
Your head swiveled to the jukebox as soon as you heard the opening piano chords of Great Balls of Fire playing, but there was just an older woman standing there snapping her fingers. 
Your heart sank a bit as you settled back into your stool and sipped your beer. It would have been too good to be true, and you were ridiculous for even entertaining the thought. But then that raspy voice was behind you, saying your name and making goosebumps break out all across your skin.
When you turned and met his warm eyes, your mouth fell open. He was here. And he looked so handsome and nervous. And your heart was hammering too hard, making it difficult to talk. 
"I don't know if you remember me," he said softly, looking at your face like you were the most precious thing he had ever seen. "But-"
"Bradley! How could I forget?" you breathed, and you watched his smile grow. "I was hoping you'd escape Virginia."
He laughed, and you wanted to kiss his mustache again. "I did. And I've been looking for you for ten months."
You leaned in a little closer and grinned. "Well I've been in San Diego."
"Me too," he said, and you tilted your head in question, but he just smiled more. "That's where I've been stationed since September."
"Oh!" you gasped. "You escaped to my city!"
"Mmhmm. And you made me come all the way back to shitty Norfolk, Virginia to find you."
You laughed. "You came back here for me?"
He nodded and stroked his fingers across your cheek just the way you remembered. "Yes. All I could think about was the way you told me you come here every year on this day. So I've been waiting months for the chance to try to see you again."
"That's really romantic," you told him, letting your palm come to rest on his chest. 
He covered it with his as he said, "My full name is Bradley Bradshaw. I live in Coronado, California on Pomona Avenue. And if you're single, I'm not leaving here without your phone number."
You were clamoring off your stool before he even finished talking, and he welcomed you into his arms. And then you kissed him, just like you had a year ago, his body warm and perfect against yours. You told him your full name between kisses, running your fingers through his hair and melting into him. "And yes, you can have my phone number, Bradley Bradshaw." 
He sighed against your cheek. "Even though I've been pining for you from afar?"
You laughed, remembering what you'd told him last year. "Apparently you've been pining for me from nearby. And that just won't do. Because I've thought about you... about the guy with the cute mustache who acted like he owns Jerry Lee Lewis's music catalog. About the only guy I ever kissed in the middle of a dive bar before I even knew his name," you whispered.
And then Bradley was kissing you again before he ended up sitting on the bar stool with you perched on his leg. He gave you his phone so you could save your number for him, and you sat like that until last call, just talking and laughing and occasionally kissing with the promise of more to come. 
When you got back to your parents' house with your brother, your phone illuminated with a new text message. 
Bradley Bradshaw: Meet me in San Diego.
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They were both pining from afar! Thanks @mak-32 and @beyondthesefourwalls for putting up with me.
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spookyserenades · 6 months
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Trouvaille - Chapter Eleven
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Pairing(s); BTS OT7 x Reader
Genre/Themes; Hybrid!AU, themes of the supernatural and the occult, religious themes, violence, hurt/comfort, horror, romance
Rated; 18+ for swearing, violence/gore, future sexual themes. Reader discretion is advised.
Word Count; 20k
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Updates on the 7th of each month
Hi my dear friends! I hope you are all happy and healthy. Welcome to the newest chapter of Trouvaille! In this chapter, there's angst, fluff, and a return to a bit of spiciness (warning you now!) Things will be picking up after this update, and I'm super excited to explore more of this story with you all. As always, I love hearing all of your feedback, answering your questions, and in general screaming about the boys with you. Please enjoy this chapter, and let me know what you think!
Previous Chapter // Next Chapter
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“Oh, perfect,” Y/N sighed, feeling Yoongi cringe at the sound of the slider slamming shut, shaking the walls a bit. Poking her head back outside, she caught Seokjin’s attention as he was handing out Smarties to a gaggle of young boys in superhero costumes. “Honey, do you mind staying out here for a bit? I have a fight to de-escalate.”
The jaguar hybrid nodded solemnly, pity rounding out the corners of his sunset stare. Yoongi, adjusting the stiff collar of his dress shirt, made a move to follow Y/N to the parlor, but she stopped him with a light hand on his bicep. 
“Can you stay with Seokjin? Just in case he gets overwhelmed, and I think it’s best if I try to feel out the vibe myself, for now,” Y/N asked, Yoongi melting over her pleading tone. “Besides, you should show off your costume. Looks good on you.”
With that, Yoongi cocked a brow, tongue flicking out to wet his lips, slinking back to the open front door. 
“You say that about all of my outfits, sweetheart,” Yoongi called over his shoulder with a smirk, taking her former spot on the porch steps beside Seokjin. 
Comforted by the fact that Yoongi didn’t seem as distressed as she originally read on his expression, she placed the pointed witch hat she was wearing on the staircase before heading towards the parlor. She didn’t think the hat was appropriate considering the situation. 
The citrusy, pine scent of copal incense filled the house thickly, a stick of it burning in pretty much each room for Samhain, but at the moment it was turning her stomach rather than clearing her head. The shouting had stopped since Jeongguk had stormed out, and Y/N couldn’t even begin to fathom where he thought he was going. Further, as she hurried down the hall into the spookily decorated parlor, Y/N’s concern for Hoseok overwhelmed everything else. Between his uneasiness around Namjoon, and the fact that he was never one to let a snide remark or what have you provoke him into an actual fight, she was worried about him. 
As she entered the room, the first thing she noticed was Namjoon by one of the windows, his back to her and his forehead in his palm, ears turned backwards. Scanning the room, littered with candy wrappers and Halloween party favors, she located Hoseok, who was sitting in the leather recliner, quite pale and quite still, like he saw a ghost. 
“What’s the problem this time?” Y/N cut to the chase, sweeping up cellophane from salted caramels on the coffee table, surprisingly maintaining a calm demeanor. At least the fight didn’t escalate to physical violence. “Are you two alright?”
No one spoke, and the corny tune of “Monster Mash” from outside filled up the silence comically. Hoseok– still in his pirate costume– appeared like a fox hybrid statue on the recliner, and blinked at Y/N, the color slowly returning to his face as she approached him. Her hand outstretched, she reached to push some of his wavy mahogany hair out of his face, his forehead a tad clammy as her fingertips brushed it. 
“Joonie, what happened? Weren’t you guys just watching Scream? What’s with the yelling?” Y/N chose to question Namjoon, considering Hoseok was still locked in some kind of trance. Maybe he had too many caramels and was feeling sick. 
Namjoon turned, tail literally between his legs, and guilt all over his handsome face once he met Y/N’s eyes. Adjusting the neckline of his cable knit gray sweater, he cleared his throat uncomfortably. 
“Uh, truthfully… I don’t know what started it. Jeongguk took offense to something that was said, and things kind of spiraled out of control from there,” Namjoon offered up, his voice gritty and strained. 
She could only thank the sky that Taehyung was up in his room, editing photos on her laptop she had loaned him, and Jimin was out back with Vista. It was comforting that those two weren’t involved, considering Taehyung had just begun to come around to some of the other hybrids, and Jimin tended to hold grudges over even petty arguments for days. 
“Okay, well… I mean, Jeongguk makes rude remarks constantly. It must have been something personal to warrant him barrelling outside,” Y/N pressed, though immediately regretted it once the guilt on Namjoon’s face became even more cloaked in the shadow of it. 
“I–” Namjoon began, taking a step towards Y/N and Hoseok, warily gazing at the latter as he was abruptly cut off. 
“Namjoon wasn’t a part of it. He was trying to calm Jeongguk down and break it up,” Hoseok interrupted loudly, as if he just remembered he had a body his spirit was inhabiting, and a voice, too. 
Taken aback, both Y/N and Namjoon exchanged looks of bewilderment, the wolf hybrid’s shoulders relaxing downwards several inches when Hoseok cleared his name. It was shocking that Hoseok actually came to Namjoon’s defense, despite his issue with wolf hybrids and the fact that he implicated himself as the instigator. 
“Hoseok?” Y/N urged gently, watching him squirm in his seat as he finally made eye contact with her. “What happened?”
Hoseok coughed uncomfortably into his fist, his ears drooping to the sides, his free hand tugging at the red sash tied around his waist. He looked like he’d rather stand in front of a moving vehicle than fess up, but Y/N couldn’t go about repairing damage until she knew what had unfolded in her absence. 
“I really didn’t mean to set him off like that. Things were pretty normal, then he and Namjoon started talking about ghosts and shit. You know I don’t really believe in all that crap, so I was just joking around but I guess I hit a nerve,” Hoseok’s throat was sort of scratchy sounding, hauling himself off of the recliner and pushing a hand through his hair. “Sorry. I didn’t want to ruin Halloween for you…”
“Oh, don’t worry about that, Hoseok. It’s still early in the evening, and I think it’s salvageable,” Y/N shook her head, knowing that Hoseok certainly didn’t have malicious intentions, and he clearly felt badly about causing a ruckus. “I’ll go find him, try to get him back into the house. Why don’t you two go out front with Seokjin and Yoongi? I’m sure the kids will love your costume, Hoseok, and our house has been popular this year. Those two could probably use a couple of extra hands, anyways.”
“You’re not mad?” Hoseok ignored her suggestion, speaking incredulously, missing the look of dude just go with it Namjoon was sending him several feet away. 
Again, Y/N shook her head. Fights would happen from time to time, there was no way of getting around it, and considering there was no physical violence involved, there wasn’t a reason for her to be angry with Hoseok. 
“No, honey. I’m going to talk to him though, and hopefully you two can work things out once he cools down,” Y/N put a hand on Hoseok’s shoulder blade, urging him towards the hall to the foyer with Namjoon hot on their heels. The sooner she found Jeongguk, the better, and she hoped that he wasn’t taking his frustrations out on Jimin in the backyard. “It’s a beautiful night, it’ll be nice for you two to get some air. I’ll come find you after I check in on Jeongguk.”
“Be careful, Y/N. Don’t let him talk to you abrasively, even if he’s upset,” Namjoon stopped her by grabbing her shoulder firmly once Hoseok hurried outside to sit beside Seokjin, the wolf hybrid’s expression serious and concerned. 
“Don’t worry too much, Joonie. I’m sure everything will be okay,” Y/N soothed, Namjoon cocking an eyebrow as skepticism washed over him. It looked like he desperately wanted to follow her to the back yard, but he reluctantly went out on the porch to lean over the railing next to Yoongi, who was handing out lollipops to a set of twins. 
Before she traipsed back through the house to head into the backyard, Y/N snapped a picture of the four hybrids on the porch with her phone with a tiny smile, all of them blissfully unaware that she had a secret folder in her camera roll containing candids of each of them. As she made her way through the kitchen, she giggled at the picture of Yoongi she had taken while he was cursing at a sheet pan of burnt vegetables he had forgotten to pull out of the oven. 
With a sigh, she left her phone on the kitchen island and shrugged on her denim jacket hanging by the slider, pushing the cracked-open door and letting the chill autumn air shroud her. Recently, Jimin and Taehyung had helped her replace all of the outdoor lighting, so the backyard was illuminated and less haunted looking. In the distance, she could hear the thumping sound of Vista’s hoofs as Jimin took her around some of the lengthy trails around their property. 
It wasn’t very difficult to find Jeongguk. All she had to do was follow her nose, the slightly sweet scent of burning tobacco cutting through the crispness of the night time air. He was over on the covered wooden swing under one of the willow trees positioned outside of the large window in the parlor. His eyes were squeezed shut with a hand massaging his temples, the lit cherry bright orange and making his features glow as a cigarette hung out of his mouth. Y/N knew that he was aware of her approaching, but he made no movement to indicate so. 
Silently, she sat beside the elk hybrid, the swing swaying slightly with her weight, Jeongguk continuing not to acknowledge her presence even when she hummed as her spine hit the padded backrest. As she gazed up at the stars in the sky, she tried her best not to curl into Jeongguk’s warmth inches away. Minutes ticked away, and Jeongguk was still ignoring her, tattooed middle and forefinger prodding away at his right temple. 
“Can I have a drag?” Y/N broke the ice, palms settling over her bare thighs to warm them up. Perhaps the short, twilight colored dress she had worn for her witch costume wasn’t the most season-appropriate choice. 
Wordlessly, and to her great surprise considering she was prepared for him to tell her to piss off, Jeongguk passed the cigarette over, eyes snapping open and looking down through his eyelashes to study the side of her face. Gratefully, Y/N took the cigarette, fingertips lightly brushing his, carefully bringing it to her lips and taking an indulgent drag. The Marlboro reds Jeongguk smoked were harsh, the tobacco tasted strong and fiery hot, and it had her lightly coughing as the smoke burned her lungs. Immediately, Jeongguk snatched the burning cigarette away with a grunt.
“That was a bad idea. Seokjin is going to come out here and smack me around,” Jeongguk muttered, using his left hand to thump on Y/N’s back as she coughed into her fist. “Yoongi I can take. But the jaguar? Definitely stronger than he looks…”
“I’m f-fine, oof, Jeongguk, don’t hit so hard, you’re gon-na knock a rib out of place,” Y/N wheezed, leaning away from his harsh strikes. “You should try some of my m-menthols. Those reds are nasty.”
Jeongguk halted his pounding on her back, leaning his elbows forward on his knees and cradling his head in his hands, as if he had a blinding migraine. Concerned, Y/N mirrored his action, eyeing how his antlers had darkened over the past few weeks in the absence of his velvet. 
“Are you going to tell me what happened?” Y/N murmured gently, wondering why he seemed to be in so much pain. Did he drink too much of the alcoholic Butterbeer she had made earlier that evening?
“Does it even matter to you?” Jeongguk shot back, a bit of bite to his smoky voice. His response made Y/N grit her teeth– she thought him and her were past this. 
“Of course it does. How could you think it doesn’t matter to me?” Y/N curled her hands into fists, staring daggers into the side of Jeongguk’s skull. 
“I don’t know. You and the fox are so close, I’m assuming you’ve taken his side and came out here to call me an asshole,” Jeongguk turned his head to meet Y/N’s eyes, the onyx shade of his pupils intimidating and darkened with contempt. “He can pretty much say whatever he wants, he’s your favorite.”
“What the fuck are you even talking about, Jeongguk? I care about all of you just the same. I don’t take sides, I don’t have favorites, and I want to fix whatever the problem is. You know, I’m finding it odd that I’m having to resolve conflict between two grown men,” Y/N ranted, feeling like she was just about fed up. Seriously, they were all older than her, shouldn’t they be able to hash out their own arguments?
There was a brief moment where they both stared at each other with intensity, anger written across both of their faces, and Y/N wasn’t sure who was going to break first. A muscle in Jeongguk’s jaw pulsed in agitation, momentarily breaking eye contact to stub out his cigarette on the bottom of his combat boots. 
“You don’t have favorites? Yeah, I’m sure,” Jeongguk muttered, mostly to himself. This, however, angered Y/N even more, but before she could open her mouth to deny the accusation once again, he continued. “You know what? I don’t even care. You didn’t even need to come out here, I wasn’t going to run away.”
“Where is this ‘favorites’ thing coming from? Is that what your argument with Hoseok was about? He claimed it was a fight over paranormal subject matter,” Y/N tried her best to compose herself, though she felt that she was seconds away from throttling the elk hybrid and Hoseok. 
“What do you think?” Jeongguk rolled his eyes, leaning back on the swing, his annoyance seeming to deflate second by second. He could probably smell how pissed Y/N was becoming. “Like I said, I don’t care. I just told him to shut the fuck up about… whatever, I told him to shut up, and he wouldn’t, so I came out here before my head could split.”
“Hoseok likes to make jokes, he probably didn’t mean anything by what he said, but I’ll still run it by him later that I’m not cool with him spreading around the idea that I favor one of you over another. Okay?” Y/N took a few seconds to collect her thoughts before responding to an increasingly uncomfortable looking Jeongguk. Clearly, she wasn’t ever going to know exactly what Hoseok had said, judging by both of them skirting around the issue.
Jeongguk went back to ignoring her, now massaging the area above his eyebrow piercing, his lips pursed and eyes fluttering shut once more. Shuddering with a sudden icy breeze that rolled by, Y/N wondered why she could still feel electricity in the air even though their heated exchange had ended. 
“You mentioned that you had a headache, want me to get you some Advil?” Y/N leaned closer to Jeongguk, close enough to smell the earthiness of his black leather jacket, the muskiness of his oaky body wash, and the smoke that constantly clung to him. The masculine scent was enough to have her head going a bit fuzzy, embarrassingly enough to admit. 
Jeongguk grunted, one of his ears flickering rapidly, his posture becoming stiffer as Y/N inched into his proximity closer than ever. 
“I’m fine, Y/N. Go back inside, it’s too cold out here for you to be wearing that little dress,” Jeongguk gave her a once-over as he spoke, his voice rough and scratchy.
“I’m not cold! Let me get you that Advil, you look like you’re really in pain, sweets,” Y/N attempted to cover up her blushing when he made the comment about her dress by making a move to get off of the swing, but a hand grasped her wrist before she could get too far. 
With the force of the hand tugging on her wrist, Y/N was forced backwards, ass landing back on the swing harshly and the wind knocked out of her lungs as she found herself nestled up to Jeongguk’s side– pretty much the closest she had ever been to him. Floored, she stared up at Jeongguk with owlishly wide eyes, her line of sight landing on the lip ring sucked into his mouth and his slightly crooked cupid’s bow. 
“What did you just call me? ‘Sweets’?” Jeongguk’s voice was abruptly saccharine, and Y/N was spellbound, finally letting herself curl into the warmth of his body and melt. “Have I ever been sweet to you?”
This question had her head spinning. The way he was speaking to her, in a lilting, almost cooing way, was entirely new to Y/N and out of character for Jeongguk. Truthfully, the term of endearment fell out of her mouth so naturally she didn’t even register she had done it in the first place, but Jeongguk certainly did. Still blinking at him like a three week old kitten, Jeongguk arched an eyebrow expectantly.
“Yes,” Y/N squeaked, honestly forgetting the question he had asked her mere seconds ago, too busy drowning in the darkness of his irises. 
“Yes, what?” Jeongguk prodded, cocking his head slightly as he lazily draped his arm across the swing’s backrest behind her. Stunned, Y/N used all of her might to will her mental facilities into functioning properly again. “Yes, you think I’m sweet?”
“Y-yes, I do. In your own way, you can be s-sweet,” Y/N stuttered, heart beginning to race in her chest. How did they get there? The push-and-pull between them was mind-bending, confusing, exhilarating. She had to look away from him in order to screw her head back on straight.
“Hmm? Like when?” With her heart in her throat, Y/N sat dumbstruck as she realized he still had her wrist in his grip, disinterestedly sweeping his eyes over her fingertips and knuckles. “Tell me.”
“Uh… when you helped with the cleansings and banishing. That night when I collapsed, and you took care of m-me. Telling me how to handle the situation between Joonie and Tae,” Y/N listed off the top of her head miraculously, though she had dozens of instances where Jeongguk had revealed his softer side to her. 
Jeongguk paused, finding her eyes again, like he was trying to identify the colors of her soul, slowly releasing the silver ring hugging his lower lip from his mouth. Y/N’s gaze was fixed on the action, and like a woman possessed, all she could think about was how the silver ring would feel against her own lips. 
The silence was absolutely maddening. Blood was rushing in her ears, and she had a sickly suspicion that he could read her mind about wanting to kiss him. Attempting to pull away a few centimeters in order to not act on her rampant fantasies, Y/N’s breath got stuck in her throat when Jeongguk’s grip on her wrist tightened bruisingly. Hissing, she arched into him, her free hand flailing out to grip the collar of his jacket. 
“Jeongguk, you’re hurting me,” Y/N whispered, watching with awe as his eyes rounded out in alarm and he loosened his hold immediately. “What’s going on with you tonight?”
“Stop worrying about me, please,” Jeongguk looked a bit pained as he vocalized his hoarse plea, the arm he had over the swing backrest landing heavily across her shoulders. “Need you to come here.”
For a heart-stopping moment, she really thought he was going to kiss her, using his arm wrapped around her to haul her into his chest, Y/N using the hand gripping his jacket to brace herself by pressing her palm over his heart. Taking her wrist, he hooked it around the nape of his neck, his other hand flat over her lower back, his head dropped as he buried his face into the base of her throat. The hasty, bold action had her gasping, her fingertips sliding through the longer silken hairs at the nape of his neck. It had been weeks since any of the hybrids scented her, Jimin being the last, and honestly it had slipped her mind that it was a ritual that had to be repeated periodically. The last of Jimin’s mark on her wrist had long since vanished, and the thought of having a fresh one from Jeongguk had her head swimming. 
“Mmm… you’re sweeter, I think,” the elk hybrid spoke over a breath, and Y/N was completely overwhelmed with all things Jeongguk. His scent, his voice and words, the way she felt protected encased in the solid muscles of his chest and arms. “Don’t you? Sweetness?”
Hardly able to formulate a coherent thought, she barely heard a word of what he was mouthing into her neck. No wonder he was so quick to become agitated with Hoseok’s joking around, he had a splitting headache, and was being so forward– he needed to scent her again. 
Taking the opportunity to be as close to him as possible due to the circumstance, Y/N all but crawled into Jeongguk’s lap, swinging a thigh over one of his to straddle it, the hand in his hair carding through the strands more boldly. Grunting gutturally with the press of her weight over him, Jeongguk’s hand moved dangerously low on her hip, making her skin flash with white-hot heat. 
“Fuck, what are you…” Jeongguk groaned, nudging her earlobe with the tip of his nose, his free hand reaching up to grip her chin tightly and move it to the side. With her neck craned, delicate skin of her throat exposed to his penetrating gaze and the brisk night air, a reedy sigh escaped from her parted lips. 
“Bite already,” Y/N egged him on, becoming impatient. She had missed this, the intimate closeness to her boys, and she needed his teeth in her neck more than she needed her next inhale. 
Jeongguk did not reply to her petition, though she swore she felt a slight puff of air against her sensitive skin as he snickered through his nose. Hold tightening on her, his lips descended, the chilly temperature of the silver ring through his lip making her shiver with delight. 
Quaking on top of him, her eyes slid closed as Jeongguk dragged his tongue up from her collarbone to just below her ear, the smooth, rounded sensation of the barbell threaded through his tongue distantly familiar to her. Y/N was able to hold back the whimper that was threatening to tear from the back of her throat, though she could not choke it back when he sunk his teeth into the paper-thin skin of her neck, just below her left ear. The pain of his blunt, though somehow still razor-sharp incisors wasn’t as intense as she remembered it to be the first time, and if anything, it had her collapsing more of her weight onto his sturdy chest. 
She was plunged into the hazy euphoria at light speed, and as soon as his teeth were cutting into her flesh, Y/N could only grip his hair in her fist like it was her only anchor to reality. Breathing heavily, she winced as he pulled his teeth from the puncture wounds, repeating what he had done the first time he scented her; with a lave of his tongue, he pursed his lips, sealing them over the mark and sucking. 
Boneless, Y/N’s chest was heaving into Jeongguk’s as he bruised the skin around the puncture wounds, the sting of his teeth piercing her flesh completely absent once the brush of his tongue cauterized the site. His frame sagged with relief as he cleaned up his mess, droplets of her blood sluggishly rolling down her neck and pooling in the dips of her collar bones. Delirious and wickedly full of a strange, intimate emotion, Y/N snaked her arms around Jeongguk’s neck, hugging him desperately for the very first time. 
As he came to, Y/N fully expected Jeongguk to pry her off of him, and she relished in the remaining seconds she had to hold him. However, to her immense surprise, Jeongguk clasped his forearms together behind her lower back, his nose still tucked into the crook of her neck as he embraced her back. She didn’t know if in her post-scenting foggy haze that she was hallucinating the way he actually held her, but she was too wired with emotion to unpack that thought at all. Slumped against the elk hybrid, she weakly continued to stroke his silky chestnut locks with her fingertips, nuzzling into his sharp collar bones indulgently. 
After a few minutes, her thoughts coming to her more fluidly as the high slipped away, Y/N was beginning to dread pulling away from Jeongguk’s warmth. He was the only thing blocking the teeth-chattering chill, and even then, she felt goosebumps blooming up the bare skin of her calves and thighs. As if sensing this, one of Jeongguk’s roughened palms trailed down to the skin of her outer thigh, covering the cool flesh with his wide hand, a grumble coming from the back of his throat. Once the heat of his palm nearly burned Y/N’s thigh, she stiffened immediately in his arms, pulling away a few breaths to get a look at his face. 
“Go inside, now. Put something warmer on before you hand out more candy,” Jeongguk finally used his grip around her hip to push her up and off of him, and astonishingly, she managed not to topple over and melt into the Earth’s core. 
“Come with me?” Y/N extended her hand out to Jeongguk, not willing to part with him just yet. 
With a soft chuckle, Jeongguk shifted his weight, standing on his own and paying no heed to her outstretched hand. Pouting, she followed his long strides across the backyard, still somewhat reeling from the interaction, the Halloween music from the front porch starting to ring in her ears as they got closer to the house. Studying the back of Jeongguk’s head as they walked towards the patio, she noticed him slow his pace so she could catch up, his chin tilting down as he looked at her. 
“Stop pouting,” Jeongguk smirked, making Y/N’s annoyance with him return. Scoffing at him, she turned her nose up into the air, ditching him and storming away petulantly. 
“Sheesh. You really don’t like not getting your own way, huh?” Jeongguk matched her pace with ease, taking her off guard for the umpteenth time that night by grasping her hand in his, thumb pinching all of her fingers together tightly as he continued on his way. “Bratty.”
“I’m the brat?” Y/N squawked, squeezing Jeongguk’s fingers as hard as she could, though secretly delighted he was actually holding her hand. A giant step forward, in her opinion. “That’s a crock. You’re one of the brattiest men I’ve ever met.”
Jeongguk barked out a wild laugh, throwing his head back with abandon, and Y/N had never seen him look so mirthful. Heart hammering around in her chest again, she composed her face into nonchalance, tugging the elk hybrid into the house.
“Yeah? I thought you said I was sweet? Did you lie to me?” Jeongguk teased, his expression becoming thoughtful as Y/N dropped his hand to shut the slider door, sighing in content as the heat in the house wrapped her up like a blanket.
Choosing to ignore him, Y/N rolled her eyes, moving to the island to pour herself a glass of red wine Yoongi had cracked open earlier in the night. Jeongguk was back to his normal, teasing self, and she had run out of wit to keep up with it for much longer that night. 
“Wouldn’t you be able to tell if I was lying to you?” Y/N countered after a long sip of Cabernet, narrowing her eyes at the elk hybrid hanging up his jacket on the hatstand by the door. He was wearing a black Deftones tee-shirt under the jacket, which had her making a noise in the back of her throat– she liked them, too. “Alright, I have to go rescue Seokjin. Hoseok is probably driving him up a tree.”
However, as she went to exit the kitchen, her path was blocked by his figure, tattooed arms crossed over his chest. What now?
“Go change first. If you wanna rescue Seokjin, put him out of his misery watching you shiver in a skimpy dress in fifty degree weather and throw some sweats on,” Jeongguk drawled, making heat crawl up her throat and bloom across her cheeks. 
“Okay,” replied obediently, with no room for questioning the tone of authority in his voice. Not to mention, she couldn’t believe she hadn’t noticed Seokjin’s fretting over the course of the night– he did typically try and bundle her up even when the temperature was in the mid-sixties. 
Again, before she could get too far into the foyer, his raspy voice called out her name. Looking over her shoulder, she scowled, waiting for him to tell her to shingle the roof while she was at it. 
“Send the wolf in when you go back out. I want to finish Scream, and I don’t want another spat happening if I watch it without him,” Jeongguk sent a wink her way, slouching off towards the dimly lit parlor with a smug look on his face. Bastard. 
Muttering, Y/N woodenly found her way to her bedroom, rustling around in her drawers for a thick pair of leggings and her specific Halloween sweater with cute skeletons on it, she rid herself of the skimpy dress (sadly, it looked fantastic on her), and begrudgingly pulled on the warmer clothes, even going as far as tugging woolen socks up over her leggings to her knees. She looked a little ridiculous, but there was no way she was going out there and risking Jeongguk dragging her by her ear back inside, or making Seokjin worry about her. 
Ruffling her hair in the mirror, she heard the slider from the kitchen being firmly shut and locked up, the heavy sound of steel-toed boots clacking against the marble floors. Jimin had finally come in from his evening ride. 
Before she could scramble out to greet him, he had already whisked himself away into his bedroom, and then the sound of his shower tap noisily turned on. Old house, old rickety plumbing… even with the refurbished bathrooms, the pipes in the wall carried water everywhere with audible whooshing and clanking. Jimin typically took long showers after being out with Vista most days, he hated tracking dirt around the house, and his muddy boots were placed neatly on the giant shoe rack by the front door she had to order on Amazon recently. 
The front door was shut, but she could still hear Yoongi’s gruff voice through the thick wood, which made her smile. Reaching for the doorknob, she paused, her phone vibrating in her leggings pocket. 
Tae: Y/N, can I borrow your laptop until the morning ? I have a few more pictures to edit, I’m sorry
Y/N: Don’t be sorry!! Keep it as long as you need, Tae. As long as I can see the results!
Tae: Okay :) thx
She was definitely thinking of getting Taehyung a laptop for his birthday in December or perhaps for Christmas. It was that or getting some kind of desktop setup in the office next to Jimin’s bedroom, so anyone who needed to use a computer would have access to it. It all depended on whether or not she could rely on the money that would soon be coming in once they began boarding horses in the upcoming weeks. 
Much warmer now in her new outfit, Y/N re-joined Seokjin, Yoongi, Hoseok and Namjoon on the porch, and she resumed her seat on the top step beside the jaguar hybrid. Seokjin certainly seemed relieved by both her return, but also by the way his mouth curved upwards in satisfaction and his eyes roamed over her attire, pleased that she had changed into something toastier. She took the plastic cauldron that was recently refilled with Hershey bars off of his lap, adjusting his crooked devil horn headband again with a click of her tongue. 
“Joonie, Jeongguk wants to keep watching Scream with you, told me to send you back in,” Y/N tilted her head up to seek out the wolf hybrid’s eyes, finding him staring at her neck with slightly narrowed eyes. Whoops, maybe she should have worn a turtleneck. 
“Everythings…?” Hoseok appeared, guiltily, around Yoongi’s shoulder, a lollipop rounding out one of his cheeks. “Alright?”
“Mm-hmm. You and I have something to talk about later, though. Nothing bad, don’t worry,” Y/N assured with her hands up, as soon as Hoseok’s russet ears drooped in response. 
“I’ll go in, then,” Namjoon interrupted, not realizing that there was a young girl dressed as a little red riding hood gawking at him with cartoonishly large eyes. She pointed at him excitedly, tugging on her mother’s shirtsleeve to get her to notice Namjoon. 
Ears perking up, he tilted his head at the girl, his eyebrows raised as he figured out who she was dressed as. Namjoon gave her a sweet, albeit wolfish, smile complete with pointed incisors and waved slightly, the girl squealing in delight and waving back. With blush dusting his cheeks, Namjoon retreated back into the house. 
Shortly after Namjoon’s departure, Yoongi went inside, as well. He announced he was going to start on dinner; even though all he had to do was stick pizza from Sal’s into the oven on sheet pans and dress the salads, but Y/N knew he was probably itching to get some alone time. Hoseok, too, started lamenting about the biting wind, and after fifteen minutes of handing out candy with Y/N and Seokjin, he, too, went inside to see what Jimin was up to. 
“So everything was worked out with Jeongguk? What is it that you have to talk to Hoseok about, did he really say something horrible?” Seokjin asked curiously, when there was a short reprieve of little ones barreling up their front walkway. 
“Ah, nothing horrible. He was just making jokes about how I have ‘favorites’ amongst you all, which just isn’t true… I don’t want him to give anyone else the wrong idea. I imagine Tae wouldn’t have liked those jokes, either,” Y/N admitted, the sensation of Seokjin’s sleek tail periodically flicking her on the lower back familiar and endearing. 
“I wouldn’t have liked it, as well,” Seokjin grumbled, his thick lower lip jutting out into a pout. “Not all of his jokes always land, that’s something he needs to learn.”
“All in due time, Seokjin… there was no physical violence, and it was easily resolved, so that’s all I can hope for,” Y/N sighed, tiredly leaning her cheek on Seokjin’s shoulder. 
Purring, Seokjin hooked his arm through her’s, tucking his hand into his jacket pocket to secure their arms together. His bright eyes flashed, tiny giggles coming from the front of the property, indicating that they were about to get a few more visitors. 
A Frankenstein, Red Power Ranger, and a girl dressed as a witch came skipping up their walkway, with great baskets already stuffed with various candies. Of course, all eyes landed on Seokjin first, with his vibrant orange eyes that shone in the darkness, his elegant, rounded black ears, and the length of his tail that curled to and fro behind him. It was moot to mention how gorgeous Seokjin was, additionally– he had many bashful kids, mothers, and even fathers alike gawking at his beautiful face the entire night. 
Seokjin, however, was either used to people ogling at him, or perhaps he was painfully oblivious, so with a closed-lipped smile, he used his free hand to pass out chocolate bars once the kids chorused ‘trick or treat!’. Y/N found that not only were children enamored with Seokjin, but he seemed to adore them as well. He tossed the chocolate bars in the air, the kids having to catch them with delight. The witch, who’s attention was on Y/N clinging to Seokjin, seemed inquisitive, unlike her brothers who were happily catching candy in the air. 
“I like your costume! That’s an awesome hat,” Y/N spoke up, the girl looking from her to Seokjin as if they were mythical beings that appeared before her. 
“Are you married?” The girl ignored the compliments Y/N doled out, obviously referring to her and Seokjin, pressed up so close to each other it was like they were morphing into a singular body. 
Y/N was at a loss for words. She knew kids could be incredibly forward and bold, but this question had her mouth drying up. Did she look old enough to be married? Further, did it make sense for her to be with a man as heart-stoppingly beautiful and kind as Seokjin? The simple, innocent inquiry rocked her world. 
“Uh–”
“Yes, we are,” Seokjin grinned like the cat who ate the canary, his tail winding around Y/N’s waist as he snuggled into her. Blood draining from her face, she side-eyed Seokjin with utter shock, not even noticing that the young girl was giggling like mad. “For two months already!”
“I wanna marry a pretty hybrid like you, too!” The girl exclaimed, cupping her hands to make what Y/N assumed to be a mimic for hybrid ears on top of her head. 
Once recovering from the fact that Seokjin had told the girl that they were a married couple, it dawned on her that he had used his adoption date as the day they “tied the knot”. The sentiment was certainly not lost on her, stomach filling up with butterflies. 
“Like me? Really?” Seokjin put a finger to his lips, theatrically acting out deep contemplations, eyes cast up to the stars and all. “Don’t you think my wife is prettier?”
With that, Y/N coughed on a bit of spit that unfortunately found its way into her windpipe. While the girl was nodding in agreement, her mother was calling her name out on the street, and she went to follow her brothers up the walkway– but not before saying goodbye to her new friends. 
“Bye-bye!” She waved and grinned, and as Seokjin waved back, he pressed a loud, firm kiss to the apple of Y/N’s cheek, concluding his great act. 
Hand flying to the flaming flesh Seokjin’s lips pressed his stamp of affection over, she gaped at the jaguar hybrid as he waved at the children merrily, his eyes squeezed shut and offering up a toothy smile. Reeling, she waited until the voices of the children floated off down the street until she began breathing again, nudging Seokjin with her shoulder. 
“Huh? What, are we out of candy?” Seokjin asked innocently, though there was a hint of mischief in the quirked corners of his mouth. Melting instantly, Y/N nudged Seokjin again, now feeling quite shy. 
“No, we’re good with candy still, husband,” Y/N couldn’t help but poke fun back, since Seokjin was typically so easy to fluster. This time, he seemed somewhat unfazed, his squeaky laughter tickling her ears like she just told a hilarious joke. “You’ve been spending too much time with Hoseok. Teasing me like that.”
“Sorry, I couldn’t resist. She was adorable, and you’re cute when you’re caught off guard,” Seokjin shrugged, his tail tightening around her waist securely. 
“Seokjinnie, stop embarrassing me! I feel like my blood is coming to a boil,” Y/N huffed, using a free hand to fan the heat across her cheeks. 
“I know, I can feel how flushed you are from where I’m sitting,” the jaguar hybrid used the back of his hand to gently check the temperature of her cheek, just over the spot he had kissed not five minutes prior. What in the world was coming over him? “So cute!”
“Wow. You’re turning out to be quite the charmer, aren’t you?” Y/N murmured, so discombobulated and dazzled that she forgot all about the task at hand– tending to the trick-or-treaters, six of which were shuffling up the walkway oohing and ahhing at the decor scattered about the front yard and decked about the porch. 
“I think the amount of kids will start to thin out soon, since it’s getting later in the night. Kids have bedtimes, especially on school nights, right?” Seokjin went back to normal conversation, as if he didn’t flirt with her like a seasoned Casanova. 
“Eh? Oh, yeah, it is… and it’s almost dinner time, too,” Y/N snapped back to reality, watching Seokjin do his little tossing game with the kids crowding around the porch. “You’re good with kids, Seokjin. They love you.”
At last, she managed to make Seokjin blush, his ears fluttering and pointed incisors biting down on his pillowy lower lip. For the following forty-five minutes, they passed out candy to some older children who had later bedtimes, until Yoongi poked his head outside to announce that the food was all heated up, her arm still linked with Seokjin the entire time. As they got up to go inside, finally separating, Y/N noticed that Seokjin had refilled the plastic cauldron with more candy and left it on the porch step for remaining visitors. 
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October seemingly came and went, and frosty, gray November was settling over the city of Boston and the town her and her hybrids lived in. Leaves on the trees had almost completely fallen off every tree in the front and back yard, which Y/N had a blast (for once) raking up with the help of some of her housemates. After a little over two months of adopting all of her hybrids, everyone settled into a normal, functional routine. While it could certainly be hectic– between keeping track of basketball games, track meets, the odd photography expo, transporting everyone where they needed to be, and juggling her job, household duties, and renovations on top of all of that– it was lovely to have companionship and fulfilling purpose. 
Mid-November one morning, when Y/N woke up to the grass outside crystalized with sparkling frost and darkened skies; she dressed as warmly as she could, relishing in the day off from work. All she had on the agenda that day was baking and cooking with Yoongi, and in the afternoon, helping Jimin out with the arrivals of two horses that were ready to be boarded for the upcoming winter. 
The hallway into the foyer was noticeably brisk, and Y/N cursed as she turned up the thermostat by her bedroom door. Cringing, the loud hum of the heating system broke the quiet ambiance of the morning, and she resumed her shuffle down the hallway with her arms wrapped around her sweater-clad middle. 
Orange light spilled out into the hallway from Namjoon’s open door. He usually kept it open, Y/N wasn’t quite sure why, but it seemed he was up and about already. Y/N figured he would have moved into his trailer full time after his birthday, but her hypothesis was proven wrong, he hadn’t. In fact, the wolf hybrid hadn’t even taken it out of the driveway since September, and really only disappeared into the vehicle a few times a week to retrieve books and bring them back into the house. 
Peering into the room, she saw Namjoon sitting at his desk dressed in his rose colored thermal, taking notes from a tattered chess strategy book with the board her mother got him for his birthday neatly set up off to the side. He had yet to take her up on her offer to play with him, Y/N assuming he was trying to absorb every rule and trick he could beforehand. 
“Morning, Joon,” Y/N greeted softly, hesitant to break his concentration. Over the past couple of months, she had gathered that he wasn’t exactly receptive to conversation when he was focused on reading. She knew, though, that he was listening and aware that she was in his doorway; his silver ears twitching with every minute movement she made.
At once, he set his fountain pen down, lifting his head from the palm he was resting his forehead in, concentration clearing from his eyes. 
“Morning. You have the day off?” Namjoon cleared his throat, voice thick and gravelly as if it was the first time he had spoken that morning– and likely, it was. 
“Uh-huh. Tuesdays I have off, remember? What are you up to today? Want to play a match later tonight?” Y/N gestured towards his notes and the pristine board sitting beside him, leaning her hip against the threshold of his door. “We can bring the board out to the parlor, and put it on the table in front of the fireplace. That way we’ll have good lighting!”
“Alright, sure. That sounds nice,” Namjoon allowed himself to smile a little, the gesture indenting dimples into the apples of his cheeks. “I think breakfast is ready, and I heard Jimin asking for you in the kitchen not too long ago.”
That was Namjoon’s code for “get out, I want to keep reading”, though Y/N didn’t mind. The warm, enticing smell of sausage and hash browns had her stomach growling loudly, Namjoon staring pointedly at her stomach. With that, she smirked at the wolf hybrid, leaving him to his note taking and skipping to the parlor, despite the strong desire to bolt immediately into the kitchen. 
She stopped short, however, when she noticed the task she wanted to complete had already been taken care of– a tall, roaring fire crackling away in the fireplace. Stoking it with a fire poker was Taehyung, an emerald green flannel covering his back and a black beanie pulled over his wild curls. Taehyung wasn’t typically an early riser, so his presence made her giddy. 
“Oh, thanks, Tae! I was just going to do that,” Y/N approached him, using her arm to squeeze him into her side by his waist. Taehyung, like Seokjin and Yoongi, was quite affectionate, so she had grown used to giving out constant hugs and pats throughout the day. “I think it’s going to be a cold winter. I better stock up on firewood.”
“Why don’t you just let me chop it? That’s what I used to do all day, you know,” Taehyung replied with a slight groan, though lowering his head so he could bury his nose into the crown of her head. 
She thought it was a little strange, at first, how Taehyung often liked to smell her hair, but she had noticed that Jimin had also exhibited the same behavior, so she wrote it off as just an instinctual hybrid mannerism. In only two months, she had become extremely comfortable with her personal space being explored and invaded. 
“But there’s one of our neighbors who sells it by the bundle! That way you don’t have to be out in the cold,” Y/N countered. Truthfully, she felt way too bad to have Taehyung resume a type of labor he had been exploited for in the past, but she didn’t want to come out and exactly tell him that. 
“Y/N, you’re being stubborn. It gives me something to do, and you shouldn’t have to pay for wood that you can gather around the back yard for free. Just let me chop the wood,” Taehyung pushed her away by her shoulders, getting down low so he could make level eye contact with her. As always, it was an intense experience, and she quickly looked away before she could drown in the garnet depths of his gaze. 
“I know if I say no, you’re still going to do it anyways. As long as you dress warmly, okay?” Y/N relented, using the sleeve of his flannel to drag him to the kitchen for some breakfast. 
The kitchen was brightly lit, as always, and the lights starkly contrasted the dark morning, making Y/N’s eyes hurt. Jimin, with his mug of coffee– one with a moose on it, his favorite, Y/N presumed– was sitting at the breakfast nook with a newspaper like an old man. He looked incredibly ready to tackle his day; freshly showered, dressed in his blue jeans, a tee shirt, and his new heavy-duty leather jacket Y/N had ordered him for his long hours outside. 
Predictably, Yoongi was cooking, in his pajamas and cheeks still puffy from sleep. Y/N’s coffee was waiting for her on the island, always with the perfect ratio of cream to sugar. It appeared that Yoongi was making a giant vat of scrambled eggs– something that was on a heavy rotation for breakfast lately since Yoongi discovered Anthony Bourdain’s recipe for them.
His hair was getting even longer these days, falling forward into his face and feathering around his neck, and Y/N was harboring a secret desire to try different hairstyles on him, especially when they were watching movies together at night. Yoongi, more than the others, was a big fan of his hair being played with; and usually grabbed her hand to card through the silky locks, and she now had the duty of putting it up before his basketball games. 
“I’m starving,” Y/N sighed, now behind Yoongi at the stove, hooking her chin over his shoulder to watch him sprinkle chopped chives into the scrambled eggs. “Smells so good. We’re lucky to have you, Yoongi.”
“Don’t butter me up. You still need to study the circle of fifths later,” Yoongi glanced backwards at her, his “serious teacher” expression on his face. For the past few weeks, his piano lessons have involved a lot more music theory than anything else, and it nearly bored her to tears– no matter how important it was to becoming a better player. The latest lesson, tackling the circle of fifths, she swore was harder than veterinarian school. 
“You never let me off the hook, do you, sir?” Y/N saluted him like a soldier, watching his eyes roll back into his skull and his spotted tail whacking the side of her thigh. 
“Good morning Y/N!” Seokjin’s happy voice filled the kitchen– apparently, he had been in the pantry the whole time. “Guess what?”
Ditching Yoongi, she joined Seokjin, who was eagerly bouncing on the balls of his feet by the oven, two plaid oven mitts on his hands. He grinned from ear to ear, tail swishing back and forth with excitement. Lately, Seokjin had been doing a little more experimenting in the kitchen, following Youtube tutorials and starting off with simple recipes, mostly side dishes. 
“What’s that?” Y/N reached up to his broad chest, dusting off a sprinkle of flour across the black tee shirt he was wearing, curious as to what he had made this time. Whenever he’d make something new, she had to be the first to see and try it. “You know what? Maybe I should sign you and Yoongi up for Masterchef.”
“Don’t do that. We both suck under pressure,” Yoongi immediately responded from the stove, transferring the eggs into a large casserole dish. “They definitely don’t take hybrids as contestants, anyways.”
Seokjin made a feline noise of annoyance, shooting Yoongi a dirty look, before he softened and opened up the oven carefully, Y/N waiting to see what he presented her. Seokjin had only ever made tapas-style dishes, easy to execute, so she was curious to see what he was going to pull from the oven. 
“No way! Jin, you made bread?” Y/N’s jaw was hanging loose, the jaguar hybrid taking a perfect boule of sourdough out on a sheet pan. Bread was something she hadn’t even attempted to make yet, and here Seokjin was, with a loaf that looked like it came from a prestigious bakery. “Don’t you need to make some sort of starter a week or so in advance?”
“Yeah, didn’t you notice that jar of sludge over on the coffee bar the past seven days?” Yoongi pointed to a mason jar that looked like a science project sitting by the coffee maker. Truthfully, since Yoongi usually made her coffee for her every morning, she rarely found herself in front of the carafe. 
“No…” Y/N mumbled, slightly abashed, Yoongi tutting at her and using a spatula to flip over some hash browns in a cast iron skillet. “I can’t even remember the last time I made my own coffee, to be fair!”
“Hmph. I think I spoil you too much,” Yoongi sighed with a shake of his head, so quietly that Y/N almost missed it. 
Her mouth dropped open to deny the accusation, mostly because there was nothing she wanted less than Yoongi to stop giving her princess treatment, but a sturdy grip on her chin turning her head away had thoughts clearing from her mind in an instant. Finding the vibrant flame-colored eyes boring roguishly into her face, she blinked, a chunk of warm bread pushed between her puckered lips, Seokjin lightly squeezing her jaw in his grasp to keep her mouth pried open. 
“How is it?” Seokjin cocked his head, thumb and forefinger stroking the hinges of her jaw as if to encourage chewing. 
Y/N did so numbly, finding it impossible to look away, while still somehow managing to actually taste the delicious bread he had tossed into her gaping mouth. Under her nose, he had even buttered the chunk of bread while she was preoccupied by Yoongi’s teasing, the rich fattiness of the butter complimenting the full-bodied flavor of the sourdough. It was the best bread she had tasted in years, putting the local bakery in the town square to shame. The fact that it was his first time baking something like that and having it turn out heavenly was frankly unfair. 
“Seokjin, it’s fucking delicious,” Y/N announced after a thick swallow, her tastebuds already begging for another slice. With a satisfied purr, Seokjin released her jaw– which she didn’t even realize he was still gripping– his human ears turning pink and the jaguar ones fluttering in delight. “Seriously. I might eat that whole loaf.”
“Jinnie, cut me a slice! Feed me, too!” Hoseok strolled into the room, wearing a red tracksuit and his hair a little sweaty from a likely morning workout. 
Y/N did end up having her little chat with Hoseok about the whole “favoritism” thing, which he felt badly about once she was able to have a moment alone with him. During an afternoon of trying out a yoga video on Youtube together, they talked about it at length. While it was awkward and uncomfortable at first, as always she left conversations with Hoseok with a stomach cramping from too much laughter and a certain, fresh outlook on life. Since then, he’d promptly gone back to his normal, clever and upbeat self; and things between him and Jeongguk had been patched up as if nothing had ever occurred. 
“Only if you say please,” Seokjin retorted, giving Y/N a little pat on the top of her head as he began to slice a slab of bread for the fox hybrid. 
It seemed with each passing day, the extreme shyness that Seokjin had once hid himself behind was melting away, and his personality was turning out to be a lot more teasing and sly than Y/N originally thought. The blossoming of some of his extroverted tendencies had made sense of why Seokjin and Hoseok had formulated a close bond so quickly at the shelter. Hoseok must have sniffed out the underlying troublemaker in the jaguar hybrid. 
“Heh. Please,” Hoseok drew out his plea obnoxiously, hungrily watching Seokjin spread a thick smear of butter over the bread, an amused smirk on the fox hybrid’s face. 
With that, Seokjin leaned over the island, sticking the sliced bread into Hoseok’s mouth, a squeaky laugh shaking his broad shoulder as Hoseok groaned pleasurably and dramatically. 
Hoseok’s next quip was around a mouthful of bread and a generous amount of butter. “Who woulda thought you were so demanding of manners, Jinnie?”
Seokjin sliced up the rest of his sourdough to be toasted with breakfast, a content simper on his face, Y/N finding her way to the breakfast nook in order to escape any more touches from Seokjin that had heat curling in her gut. Under Jimin’s watchful eye, and at times his reproachfulness towards the other hybrids, she knew no one else would try and tease her in his presence. Taehyung, who had been lurking around the coffee bar making himself some kind of iced, sugary concoction, slid into the booth beside her, sandwiching Y/N between him and Jimin. 
“Hey, Tae, if you’re going to be outside today for the firewood, do you mind helping Jimin and I out with the horses that’ll be dropped off around noon? It might be better to have another pair of hands. I believe two, maybe three are being brought over,” Y/N sipped her coffee indulgently, letting it heat up her insides. 
With the mention of his name and their shared task for that afternoon, Jimin’s ears perked up immediately and he set his newspaper down. Tae gave her a thumbs-up, whipped cream coating his upper lip from his drink, Y/N noting how he looked 100% human with his beanie on, his rounded ears hidden beneath. 
“What are horses' names, again, Y/N?” Jimin accepted a plate of breakfast food from Yoongi with a polite nod, the leopard hybrid placing a second one heaped with outrageous portions in front of Y/N. Y/N had an inkling that Yoongi’s love language was making sure she was always well fed. 
“Blue, Oliver, and possibly Willow, if her owners can make it today,” Y/N recalled, her eyes to the ceiling to pull the information out of her brain. Though she was once a veterinarian and often treated horses, taking care of so many that lived in her backyard full-time was sort of intimidating. It was lucky that she could heavily rely on Jimin, who was at home almost always, and grew up taking care of horses specifically. 
Sneaking a peek at the coyote hybrid beside her, who was the picture of anticipation scanning the backyard through the picture window behind the breakfast nook, she melted in her seat like a pat of butter in a scorching pan. Jimin was a striking combination of delicately beautiful and ruggedly handsome, and quite frankly Y/N found it unjust. To her, it was wrong that someone could be simultaneously runway material and dripping with inherent brawniness. 
Additionally, the sort of romantic dreaminess that Jimin often displayed in his actions (unbeknownst to him, Y/N believed) practically made him into a Jane Austen hero that walked off of the weathered pages and into her reality. It was extremely difficult not to fall for the coyote hybrid, and Y/N spent a good chunk of her time trying to grapple with that whenever she hung out with him in the stable. A man who was gentle and caring towards animals was certainly high up on her wishlist for a lover. 
“Alright. Everything is all set in the stalls, I put hay in three of the vacant ones this morning just in case,” Jimin grinned at Y/N, as if he could read her mind and see the thirsty thoughts floating around in her skull. Hastily covering up her guilt, she took a scalding swig of her coffee, wincing at the sear in her esophagus. 
“Eat up, Y/N. The eggs taste like shit when they’re cold,” Yoongi interrupted her coughing fit, his eyes narrowed from his spot by the sink, Y/N unaware he was even monitoring her. There was an odd look on his face, his fine features shadowy, lips downturned at the corners, and his ears twitching in agitation. Okay?
Obediently, Y/N worked through her comically large plate of breakfast, giggling at Hoseok and Seokjin teasing each other at the island, their jabs at each other filling the kitchen with a little sunshine despite Yoongi’s sudden storminess. She’d have to ask what was up with him later, when they cooked dinner together. 
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“Oh, she’s beautiful, Mr. Orlov! I’m so glad you could bring her today. We’ll take great care of her,” Y/N stroked Willow, a dapple gray, gently on her strong neck, admiring how soft her coat was. Mr. Orlov was a good friend of her grandfather’s, a Russian immigrant, and was planning on spending the winter in Arizona with his wife. 
“I’m sure you will. Your grandfather spoke highly of the young man who will be helping you. A former ranger hybrid, no?” Mr. Orlov asked in his thick accent, walking beside Y/N and his horse with his hands clasped behind his back. 
Though it was the forth time she was escorting a horse through her backyard towards the stable, she still found it a bit funny to do so, especially without Jimin. He was busy in the stable already, tending to the two new horses and his own. 
“Yes, Jimin worked at the Yellowstone ranch, so he’s very experienced. He even used to train horses! I’m really fortunate to have him, he was able to fix up the old stable in the blink of an eye…” Y/N took the opportunity to gush about Jimin, soothingly patting Willow as she became a little skittish with the sounds of splitting wood off into the distance. 
“It is nice to know Willow will be close to home while I am away,” Mr. Orlov’s crystal blue eyes scanned the backyard for the source of the sound growing in volume. “Is that him?”
Taehyung, with his flannel tied around his waist and in a sweat-dampened white tee shirt, was by the little woodshed several yards away from the stable, an ax in hand and a neat pile of firewood beside the block he was chopping on. Mouth drying up at the sight, the sheer strength Taehyung possessed in being able to split a thick chunk of wood in one fell swoop, Y/N shook her head distractedly. 
“No, that’s Taehyung, another one of my hybrids,” Y/N gave Taehyung a weak wave when his head whipped up upon hearing his name coming from her lips. He adjusted the beanie on the top of his head, blinking at her stoically, returning to his task. Y/N had the feeling he was aware she was peeved he was only in a tee shirt in fifty degree weather. “Jimin is in the stable.”
“That’s him?” Mr. Orlov pointed towards the chicken coop, where Seokjin was shaking out a bag of feed with the birds pecking around his feet. 
“Uh, no, that’s not him either,” Y/N chuckled sheepishly. She wondered if her grandfather had told Mr. Orlov just how many hybrids lived with her. It was the sort of thing that tended to be a bombshell dropping during conversations with curious strangers. “Just through here, let’s bring Willow inside and see how she likes her new digs!”
Mr. Orlov politely waved at Seokjin, who had a chicken tucked under his arm. Due to the colors of the feathers, Y/N could tell it was Sable– her and Jimin had named all of the chickens– the hen that was greediest with the food and often ate more than her share. Chuckling at the bird struggling to free herself from Seokjin’s arms, Y/N slowly led Willow and Mr. Orlov into the stable, which was lit up nicely and immaculately swept clean. 
“Ah, gorgeous. You fixed up this place very well, I remember what it looked like last winter,” Mr. Orlov took a look around, Jimin appearing from one of the stalls with a wide grin that made his eyes narrow into slits. 
Probably sensing that Y/N was in need of more experienced hands to take over horse duty, he hurried over, hands already extended– one to shake Mr. Orlov’s hand, another to take the reins from Y/N’s clammy fist. Relieved, she took a few steps away from Willow, watching Jimin lead the horse and her owner to a free stall, one next to Vista, Jimin’s own horse. Y/N noticed the ground of the stable was a bit wet, the scent of shampoo slightly perfuming the air from when Jimin had given Vista a bath earlier that afternoon. 
She let Jimin handle himself and take over answering any questions Mr. Orlov had about the stable and how they’d care for Willow. Truthfully, she would just be awkwardly standing there while they chatted, and Jimin could definitely handle talking to Mr. Orlov himself, so she gave Vista a soft pat on her nose before heading back outside to see if Seokjin had gotten his arms pecked bloody. 
When she left the stable, Seokjin was already gone. It was kind of brisk outside, and since Seokjin was not a fan of chilly weather, she figured he had gone back inside as soon as he fed the chickens to warm up by the fire. Taehyung was still busy chopping wood, and Y/N realized that he had found an old portable CD player and was listening to something as he worked, the old headphones he typically plugged into the turntable attached to the device clipped to the belt loop of his jeans. He still somehow managed to hear her as she walked towards the house, even with the music playing– or perhaps he caught a whiff of her. Either way, he gave her a closed-mouth smile, sweat collecting along where his beanie met his forehead. 
Y/N’s phone began to ring in her pocket, making her pause and plop down onto a lounge chair on the patio beside the kitchen door. The caller ID showed a picture of Ben from college, drunk and eating ramen with a fork. 
“Hey Ben! What’s up?” Y/N picked at her cuticles, which were unfortunately drying out due to the change in seasons. 
“Same old, Roy just took Daisy to the grocery store. She wanted spaghetti for dinner, and we were fresh out.” Ben sounded like he was bustling around his kitchen, pots and pans clanging together. “How’ve you been? Didn’t you say there were some people dropping off horses at your place today?”
“Yeah, three of them got dropped off today. You should see Jimin, he’s so happy,” Y/N felt warm fuzziness envelop her, imagining the radiance of Jimin’s joy in her mind. “I’ve been really good lately. I finally feel like the routines are making sense and flowing.”
“That’s a relief. You were running around like a headless chicken for a few weeks there,” Ben chuckled. “Speaking of chickens. Do you think I could get some eggs from you sometime this week? The last batch was awesome.”
“Of course! We have more eggs than we know what to do with, even with Hoseok boiling so many for his pre-practice snack,” Y/N snuck a peek into the kitchen slider, hoping to see Yoongi in there waiting for her to join him. However, no one seemed to be in the kitchen, which was highly unusual– all of the boys were prone to constant snacking. “Is that why you called? For more eggs?”
Y/N was teasing, but Ben texted her most of the time to catch up. When he’d call her, it was typically because he had something important to say. 
“No, actually. I have some news for you,” Ben cleared his throat, tone becoming more serious. “It’s about Hannah. She won her case this afternoon, and someone has already requested to adopt her. She’s out of Cirque Mystique.”
Y/N fell silent, heart pounding quickly in her chest. She hadn’t talked to Seokjin about what she had found out about Hannah yet, wanting to wait and see how her trial went before getting his hopes up that she had been freed from the circus. Now that Hannah was free, Y/N was suddenly stumped on how to bring it up to Seokjin. Since their chat about Hannah and the circus, the jaguar hybrid had not brought up the subject again. Part of Y/N wondered if he thought she forgot about it, since the conversation happened weeks ago– the thought making her heart squeeze. 
“Hello? Earth to Y/N, did I cut out?” Ben whistled on the other end of the receiver, Y/N squeaking once she realized she had zoned out with him still on the line. 
“No, no, I heard you! That’s really great news, you said someone wants to adopt her?” Y/N recovered, watching Jimin escort Mr. Orlov back to his car in the distance. 
“The public defender who represented her, actually. I know the woman, she’s wanted to adopt a hybrid for a while, she’s extremely nice. Actually, she just decided to move to Upstate New York, more clients around there, more nature, et cetera. So her and Hannah will be moving at the end of the month, when the adoption goes through. I guess they really bonded over the course of the trial, Hannah felt safe with her,” Ben explained, Y/N trying her best to process all of this new information. “And I know what you’re thinking. You were probably itching to adopt Hannah for Seokjin, but seven hybrids is already a handful for you, Y/N. This is a good thing.”
Lifting her eyebrows, she considered Ben’s accusation. Honestly, she wasn’t even close to thinking about adopting Hannah– Ben was right, seven hybrids was more than enough to keep her on her toes, an eighth would send her straight over the edge of sanity. Besides, adding another hybrid to the house was a recipe for throwing the carefully constructed balance she had created between her seven boys off kilter. 
“Ben, I might be a little off my rocker, but I’m not that crazy. It was difficult enough to get some of my boys to even tolerate one another, I’m not about to disturb the peace now,”  Y/N pushed a hand through her hair, wondering if there was a way she could arrange for Seokjin to meet with Hannah before she moved to New York. 
“Mm-hm, I’m sure,” Ben replied airly, as if he didn’t buy what she was saying at all. “Apparently, though, Hannah was asking about Seokjin. I told my friend– Sarah, is her name, the one adopting Hannah– that he was with you and he was safe. I think she’d like to see him, and I told Sarah that I’d ask if it was alright to pass on your contact information.”
“God, it’s like you read my mind. That’s totally fine, send over my number and email. I’ll definitely find time for Seokjin and I to meet up with them,” Y/N agreed, growing anxious to tell Seokjin the good news. There was no telling how he’d react, but she was hoping that it would be positive. “Listen Ben, thanks for letting me know. I gotta get going though, I want to break the news to him.”
“Just as well. I have a Zoom meeting with a client in half an hour, enough time for me to finish roasting vegetables for dinner. We have to blend them into the tomato sauce to get Daisy to eat anything green, ironic for a bunny hybrid,” Ben bid Y/N goodbye, hanging up with a curse as it sounded like he may have burned himself on a hot pan. Ben’s cooking skills were never really something to write home about. 
Shivering, eyes trailing after Jimin making haste back across the yard to the stable, Y/N took a calming, deep breath as if to steel herself. Strangely enough, she was becoming nervous to talk to Seokjin, which was unnerving and even a little alarming. Gnawing on her lip, she tried to swallow down the anxiety, pulling her sweater closer around her body and finding her way back into the house. 
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Y/N’s anxiety subsided monumentally as soon as she found Seokjin. He had made himself comfortable in the parlor, arguably the warmest room in the house, wrapped up in a throw blanket with the fireplace alight and his attention on the cooking channel. Without a word, Y/N took a seat beside the jaguar hybrid, his chest rumbling with purrs as she squirmed into a suitable position. In amicable silence, Y/N defrosted next to Seokjin for several moments, humming softly when he peeled back a corner of his blanket to pull it over Y/N, as well. 
“You shouldn’t spend so much time outside when the weather is like this. You’ll catch a cold,” Seokjin murmured after a while, eyes focused on Gordon Ramsay demonstrating how to cook the perfect duck entree. He attempted to put off nonchalance, but his eyebrows were knitted and Y/N could tell he was slightly admonishing her. 
“For someone born in December, you sure hate the winter, huh, Seokjinnie?” Y/N deflected, naturally scooching closer to his elevated body heat. It was nice that the hybrids were such warm beings, perfect to cuddle up to. “Speaking of, have you found a place you’d be interested in going to eat for your birthday?”
Y/N knew that she was beating around the bush, but her brain was still trying to come up with a way to bring up what she had discovered about Hannah. Luckily, it seemed that the rest of her hybrids were either outside or holed up in their bedrooms doing their own thing. She swore she had heard Yoongi on the piano when she had come inside, a familiar tune he often played but never directly in front of her, but the music had stopped abruptly as soon as she sought out Seokjin. 
Grumbling, Seokjin didn’t seem to like her obvious change in subject and disregard for his fretting, but his features softened as he finally cast a look downwards at her. He pulled his phone out from under the blanket, tapping away on the internet browser with determination, before holding the phone out in front of Y/N’s face, his lower lip tucked between his teeth. 
“Oh! Ramsay’s Kitchen? As in Gordon Ramsay? There’s one of those in Boston? I suppose I shouldn’t be surprised, he is a household name around here,” Y/N gingerly took Seokjin’s phone from him, flicking through the website’s gallery. 
Seokjin didn’t say anything, his cheeks a little pink as he watched Y/N check out the website, his ears dropping down sideways as if she was going to tell him they couldn’t go or something. 
“Mmm… the menu looks delicious. Hey, your birthday falls on a Sunday, so we could go to brunch– only if you want! We can go any time, really. It’s entirely up to you, it’s your day, after all,” Y/N passed Seokjin’s phone back to him, the jaguar hybrid pulling his teeth from his lip, blood rushing to the flesh and making his mouth look even more tempting than ever. 
“No, brunch is perfect! There’s more to choose from on the menu, for brunch. Are you sure we can go there? You don’t mind driving into the city?” Seokjin’s eyebrows shot up into his hairline, blinking harshly at her like he had sand in his eyes. 
“The drive is nothing. It’ll only take us like half an hour to get there, don’t worry about that. Want me to make a reservation? I think it’s probably wise considering Ramsay’s popularity…”
“I can do it,” Seokjin assured, already looking for the page to reserve a table. “Do you think everyone else will come along?”
“Do you want them to?” Y/N cocked her head, speaking cautiously. Perhaps he only wanted to go with her and Hoseok?
“I mean, whoever wants to come can tag along. I don’t mind,” Seokjin mumbled quietly, fingers hesitating on the drop-down menu that asked how many would be in their party. 
“Uh, why don’t you just reserve a table for eight, and if anything changes, I’ll give the restaurant a call. Okay?” Y/N made a mental note to convince everyone to join in for brunch, even the ones who tended to be late risers, because as much as Seokjin was trying to appear neutral, she could tell he secretly wanted everyone to be present. Whether or not his reasoning was so he could try more menu items, Y/N didn’t know. 
They lapsed back into silence for a bit, Seokjin finishing up the reservation form and the both of them watching Kitchen Nightmares with the occasional shared giggle. The mid-afternoon light was beginning to wane, filling the parlor with blue light, the fireplace offering a dim, homey glow. 
“Seokjin, I have some news for you,” Y/N spoke up abruptly during a commercial break, unable to hold information back anymore. Besides, she’d have to get going on dinner in a bit with Yoongi, and she promised the leopard hybrid that they’d bake something for dessert together, too. 
Reaching forward, she lowered the volume of the television, twisting her body and curling her legs to the side so she could face Seokjin fully. Able to sense her change in demeanor, serious and full of purpose, Seokjin promptly tore his attention from the TV, a quizzical look on his beautiful face, his nose slightly twitching. 
“So, remember a while ago, when we talked about Cirque Mystique, and I said I’d have Ben look around for some information?” Y/N dove in headfirst, deciding that she had been stalling for far too long. 
Watching the color drain from Seokjin’s face, he went rather still, even the constant twitch of his ears had paused in their movement. Not wanting him to think she had bad news, she reached for his hands under their shared blanket, the feeling of his crooked fingers slotting against hers boosting her confidence. 
“Hannah is fine,” Y/N assured at once, Seokjin’s mouth dropping open and his loose grip on her hands squeezing weakly. “Ben’s public defender friend, Sarah, actually represented Hannah in a negligence case against the circus. Hannah won her case, and she doesn’t have to work in the company anymore.”
“She’s free?” Seokjin breathed, his face still extremely pale and his Adam’s apple bobbing as he swallowed repeatedly, like he was trying to lubricate a dry throat. 
“She’s free,” Y/N confirmed, smiling wistfully as tears began to gather along Seokjin’s lower lash line. The sight had her heart absolutely breaking in her chest. “In fact, Sarah has requested to adopt her. She’ll be safe, living in a loving home. Ben said that Sarah and Hannah had bonded over the course of her trial, so I think this was the best possible outcome for Hannah.”
Seokjin began to process what she had revealed to him, periodically clutching Y/N’s hands in small pulses as his wide eyes flitted from each of hers, as if to detect any deceit. His mouth opened and closed like a fish out of water, apparently at a loss for any kind of response, but Y/N let him take his time to sort out his emotions as she clung to his hands for dear life. 
“So… she’s going to be adopted,” Seokjin spoke barely above a whisper, releasing one of Y/N’s hands to use the inside of his wrist to dab away at his watery lash line. “That’s good. She’s not hurt?”
“No, she’s not hurt. Ben said she only sustained minor injuries, but those have definitely healed up by now,” Y/N was trying not to read too much into Seokjin’s reaction to the news– Hannah seemed to mean a whole lot more to Seokjin than Y/N had originally thought. An itchy, uncomfortable sensation began to bloom in her gut. Was it selfish to be jealous of Hannah? Probably, but it was near impossible to squash it down. 
Regaining his sense of self, Seokjin clumsily lurched forward, the blanket around them falling around their waists as he crushed Y/N in a fierce hug. His entire body crooked over her, and his wide shoulders did a good job of caging her in and shielding her from the world. Hands trapped between their chests pressed flush together, Y/N could only wind her fingertips into the fabric of Seokjin’s black tee shirt, breathing stuttered as Seokjin clutched her and shoved his face into her neck. The fabric making up the collar of her sweater was growing a bit damp, and Y/N realized Seokjin had allowed tears to fall freely down his cheeks, soaking into her top.
“Shh, it’s alright,” Y/N whispered, able to free one of her hands so she could smooth her palm down the back of Seokjin’s wavy head of raven hair. Shoulders slightly shaking, Seokjin pressed closer to her, almost forcing Y/N into his lap. “She’s going to be alright. Would you like to see her? Sarah said that Hannah was wondering about you, once she found out you were here with me.”
Pulling himself together slightly, Seokjin nodded into the crook of her neck, sniffling a little as Y/N’s previous jealousy melted away into concern for the jaguar hybrid. Still raking her fingers through his hair, she accidentally grazed the shell of his rounded, silky ear, a choked noise coming from Seokjin as he shuddered at the swift contact, his body becoming totally slack against her. Muttering a whoops, sorry, Y/N held onto Seokjin for a few more moments, her cheeks burning, before carefully maneuvering him off of her so she could assess his expression. 
“Oh, Seokjin… I didn’t mean to make you cry, honey,” Y/N’s throat was growing thick, the image of tears tracking down Seokjin’s face nearly unbearable to witness. Reaching up, she used her thumbs to tenderly brush away stray tears, Seokjin leaning into the touch and offering a weak smile. “I told Ben to give Sarah my information. As soon as she reaches out to me, we can make a plan. There’s one more thing…”
Seokjin shook his head, in order to encourage Y/N to continue talking even while he was overcome with emotion, trying his hardest to compose himself, his hands coming up to rub at his biceps self-consciously. 
“So, apparently Sarah is planning on moving to Upstate New York with Hannah, as soon as the adoption is finalized. Of course, we can visit whenever you’d like, but I just thought you should know that, as well,” Y/N now found it hard to look Seokjin dead in the eyes, her fingers fiddling with a stray thread poking out of the throw blanket tossed haphazardly across her lap. 
“New York? She… Hannah always wanted to live there,” Seokjin croaked, though a warmhearted beam began to grow on his face. Again, the itchy feeling in her gut returned, and Y/N felt overwhelming guilt flood through her. 
“She’ll love it there, I’m sure!” Y/N cheered, desperately hoping he couldn’t smell the emotions that were eating her alive only inches away from him. Shit, she was in deeper than she thought. “C-can… can I ask? How long have you known Hannah?”
Seokjin froze, scanning her face quietly, his friendly expression still in place but the barest hint of caution glazing over the set of his mouth. Immediately regretting her question, wishing she could stuff the words back into her trap and swallow them whole, Y/N began to wave her hands and chuckle everything off. 
“Jesus. Sorry, none of my business–”
“I’ve known her for about six, almost seven years. It’s okay, you can ask,” Seokjin gave Y/N a gentle pat on the back of her hand, likely noticing her picking at the loose blanket thread nervously. “She was brought into the company a couple of years after me. I had several friends in the company, but Hannah I felt closer to than anyone else.”
Digesting this, Y/N began to imagine what Hannah might have looked like, and how she acted. For Seokjin to speak so highly of her– and care so deeply for her wellbeing– she must have been an incredible person. 
“Ah, you might think this is ‘corny’, like when we watch those romance dramas with Hoseok and Jimin, but, um,” Seokjin made goofy air-quotes, his teeth coming down to chew on his lower lip once more. “But you know how those dramas often have a particular trope? Well, Hannah– I guess you could say– she was my ‘first love’.”
Then, Y/N’s ears began to ring loudly. Staring at the jaguar hybrid like he had just told her he planted a bomb in their basement, she took a split second to recover, once again chuckling like an idiot. The concept of one’s ‘first love’, as cheesy as it could be in dramas and novels, was nothing to laugh about, however. Often, the ‘first love’ stuck around in someone’s heart until the day they died.
“F-first love?” Y/N squeaked, and it dawned on her that she, herself, never experienced such a thing, so there was no way she could put herself in Seokjin’s shoes. “Are you still…?”
“In love? God, no,” Seokjin caught on to the unsaid, ever the perceptive one. “We realized early on we were better as friends, rather than lovers. She’s just a dear friend to me, now.”
Expecting to be placated upon hearing those words, Y/N’s brain was still chanting ‘she was my first love’ in Seokjin’s voice over and over in a loop like the creepy robed dudes in Eyes Wide Shut. All she could do was plaster a hopefully convincing impartial expression on her face, wishing another hybrid would bumble into the parlor and save her from her self-imposed humiliation.
“Oh! Um, well, it’ll be really nice to see her, huh? Sarah will probably contact me any day now, so we’ll set everything up, honey,” Y/N cleared her throat, praying her words didn’t come out like she was spitting them through her teeth. 
Y/N was engulfed in another organ-crushing hug, Seokjin thanking her profusely for finding out about Hannah for him, and swearing that he’ll have to bake some bread for Ben and his family to thank him as well. Nuzzling into his eucalyptus scented chest, Y/N concentrated on getting over herself; it wasn’t fair that she was letting her growing feelings for Seokjin get in the way of his relationship between him and his longtime friend– and former lover, she mentally added, bitterly so. She was only soothed by the gentle purring vibrating from Seokjin, the heavy weight of his tail wrapping around her hips. 
When she broke free after several moments, the tip of Seokjin’s nose pink, he announced that he wanted to clean up and take a shower before dinner, but Y/N suspected he was a touch embarrassed for crying in front of her. As he stood, he doubled back, planting a kiss on her forehead swiftly before scurrying out of the room like he was on fire. Reeling, Y/N sat statue still for the length of three commercials, attempting to unpack everything she had just experienced, until she broke free from Seokjin’s spell and switched off the television. 
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“Yoongi? Angel, where are you?” Y/N had been milling around the house for thirty minutes trying to find her leopard hybrid so they could start on the dough for the cookies they were planning to make. 
She elected to freshen up after her conversation with Seokjin and showered, changing into some leisure wear. Y/N had already checked up on Namjoon, who was busy reading– she encouraged him to set up the chessboard in the parlor for later, but he claimed he wanted to finish reading the next few chapters of his book club selection, so she didn’t push him. 
Meanwhile, Hoseok had left her a sticky note on the fridge that he had gone for a run around the neighborhood, something that wasn’t unusual for him, Taehyung and Jimin were still outside, and she didn’t typically bother Jeongguk unless she was absolutely desperate to talk to him. That left only Yoongi available for her to pester, if she could find the slippery little bastard. 
“Angellll?” Y/N poked her head into the music room, to see if he had fallen asleep on the leather loveseat in front of the record player again. Alas, he was nowhere to be seen, and he had left all of the candles in the room lit and unoccupied. Frowning, she had run out of places to look for him– all of his usual spots were void of his presence. There was one last place to check; his bedroom. 
Y/N hadn’t gone into Yoongi’s bedroom since she adopted him, but he had chosen one of the tower rooms, so she pivoted and started down the hall with a pout. Yoongi was never one to ignore her, and would always appear whenever she’d call his name, so she was a little peeved. 
“Hey, Yoongi, are you in there? I thought you and I were going to bake together,” Y/N couldn’t keep the whine out of her voice, and she didn’t even feel ashamed about it. “Yoongi, I can hear you grumbling. Let me in?”
She could picture the eye roll he was giving her from behind the wooden door to his room, but the muffled sound of sock-clad feet padding to the door had her grinning in victory. Gotcha. 
As the door opened, Y/N was smacked in the face with the cologne-scented candle Yoongi liked to burn in his room, and she got a wider-than-usual visual of the bedroom than she would whenever she’d drop off his clean laundry at the door. Yoongi, dressed in sweatpants and a long-sleeved white tee shirt, wordlessly stepped aside so she could enter his room. 
“Are you avoiding me or something? I feel like I haven’t seen you all day, angel!” Y/N pouted, taking a seat on his desk chair with her arms crossed. His room was quite neat, but there was sheet music strewn about on his desk, handwritten notes scrawled across the pages. 
“No, I’m not avoiding you,” Yoongi similarly crossed his arms, leisurely sitting down on the foot of his bed across from her. “I practiced in the driveway for a little while with Foxy, came up here to shower, and then I planned out the next few piano lessons for you. Besides, weren’t you a little preoccupied with Seokjin?”
Taken aback at Yoongi’s flat, disinterested tone, Y/N blinked at him with shock. Yoongi never spoke to her with such a tone, and it certainly caught her off guard. 
“Okay, what’s up with you? Did I say or do something to offend?” Y/N demanded, recalling how he had been grouchy during breakfast as well. “Wait, do you need to scent? Is that it?”
“No, I’m fine, Y/N,” Yoongi responded quietly, looking out his window distractedly, like he couldn’t meet her eyes. His long hair was messy, like he was running his hands through it all day, and his tail was flicking back and forth on the bed behind him in an agitated manner. “Nothing’s wrong. How’s Seokjin?”
“He’s alright, why so curious all of a sudden?”
Silence. The awkward tension was entirely new between them, and it set Y/N on edge. She decided to try again. 
“There was something he asked me to find out about his past, I was just updating him on the news,” Y/N didn’t think she should divulge much more than that to keep Seokjin’s privacy, but she also didn’t want to ponder on the thought of Seokjin and Hannah’s reunion for much longer. 
“The past, huh?” Yoongi muttered cryptically, heaving himself off of the bed and moving so he could stand by his window overlooking the front yard, a scowl on his face. 
Y/N really only had a few clues about Yoongi’s past; he hadn’t really brought it up too many times. What he did bring up was working at the bar in Boston, with vague details, but that was all. Yoongi didn’t even know that Y/N had found out about his mother’s death via his report sheet on the hybrid database, and she wasn’t bringing that up at all until he did. 
So, Y/N didn’t really understand why Yoongi was being so weird. Was he hoping she was going to pry into his past? He hadn’t shown interest in discussing it before, so Y/N had no reason to fish around for information and risk opening old wounds for him. 
“Yeah, the past. Seokjin had me find out about a friend of his from the circus he was a part of. I’m sure if you ask him about it, he’ll tell you,” Y/N spoke slowly, waiting for the tension to break and for him to make some kind of wisecrack. 
“Do you remember everything from your past?” Yoongi voiced his question to the window, rather than Y/N herself, so close to the glass his breath fogged it up. 
Y/N thought that was an odd question. Everything? 
“I mean, I remember specific memories, if that’s what you mean, but I don’t remember every single thing that has ever happened to me,” Y/N felt like she was trying to answer some kind of riddle, and no answer would end up being correct. 
“Ugh,” Yoongi grunted, clearly not hearing what he wanted to. “Okay, let me rephrase. Has there ever been a time where you’ve forgotten something or someone completely from the past, like it was erased from your mind?”
“Is this a riddle, Yoongi?” Y/N blurted, bewildered. His ears flattened against his skull, back still turned to her. “I mean, say that something like that has happened to me. How would I even know? If it was like it was erased from my mind, how would I even remember the person or the event at all?”
She felt like she was talking in circles, and she wished that Yoongi would just tell her what all of this was about. He might have been a mind reader, but she certainly wasn’t. 
“Nevermind, Y/N, it doesn’t matter. Come on, let’s get started on dinner,” Yoongi sighed, his shoulders drooping as he briskly left the room and Y/N sitting at his desk in confusion. 
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“Joonie, I’m rustier than I thought,” Y/N complained, sitting across from the wolf hybrid as he kicked her ass for the second time during their chess match. He smirked, and she wanted to reach across the table and wipe that grin off of his face with her thumb. “Besides, you cheated. You read like five books on strategy. Not fair.”
“Don’t be a sore loser, Y/N, darling,” Hoseok called over his shoulder, curled up on the sofa in front of the TV. While his head was turned, Y/N gave him the finger, watching the fox hybrid snort with glee at the bitter gesture. 
“Honestly, Y/N, I really wasn’t even using any of the strategies, I think you might just be terrible at chess,” Namjoon leaned back in his seat, amusement all over his handsome face. 
She squawked in offense, pelting a pawn at his broad chest, the wooden piece hitting one of his pecs and unceremoniously clattering to the floor. Namjoon simply raised an eyebrow at her, as if to challenge her to try that again, before plucking the piece off of the floor with his elegant– and apparently, talented, fingers. 
It was a Friday, and it was one of the afternoons that was free of any events at the rec center. Y/N was blowing her entire paycheck from Judy’s on gas and groceries alone, but the added $3,000 she was getting monthly from boarding the horses was nicely supplementing her income. She spent the morning with Jimin, helping him give the horses baths, took a walk with Taehyung around the neighborhood to take some pictures for his clubs, and was now getting kicked in the ass by Namjoon on the chessboard. All the while, Jeongguk, Hoseok, and Seokjin were going through Quentin Tarantino’s entire filmography– currently on Kill Bill. 
“Christ, the blood is so fake looking. Did they even fucking try?” Jeongguk pointed out from his spot on the recliner, between a mouthful of popcorn Seokjin had brought out for them all. 
“Gratuitous violence, obvious fake blood. That’s Tarantino for you,” Y/N stood stiffly from her seat, waving an imaginary white flag. “You win, Joonie, I give up for today. Loan me one of those strategy books, why don’t you, so I can stop embarrassing myself?”
Before Namjoon could reply, Jeongguk had more commentary to offer, scoffing at the TV. 
“Tarantino. I heard he’s a fucking douche canoe,” Jeongguk stuffed more popcorn into his mouth, and Y/N had never seen him look less intimidating in her life. 
Seokjin audibly winced at Jeongguk’s word choices, glaring at him disapprovingly. Y/N, however, had to choke down her laughter in the palm of her hand. 
“Sure he is, but he makes great movies,” Y/N agreed, making her way to the back of the sofa, soothingly giving Hoseok a light scalp scratch. Violence corny or not, the fox hybrid wasn’t a huge fan of blood and guts. 
Unfortunately for the hybrids in the parlor, Namjoon joining the others by sitting on the floor by Seokjin’s feet, Y/N had to part with them. It was about time for her weekly piano lesson, and for once, she wasn’t eager for it. 
Since that previous Tuesday, Yoongi had been acting strangely around her. He wasn’t nearly as clingy as he always was, and his replies to all of her questions and comments were clipped and quite short. Honestly, it depressed her quite a bit, and she spent hours at night staring at her ceiling combing through her memories to find something that might have caused his change in demeanor.
Trudging up the stairs slowly, Y/N paused halfway up, listening to the sweet melody of the song Yoongi was currently playing on the piano. It had become her absolute favorite tune that he played, and she had a hypothesis that Yoongi might have composed it himself. Sensing her approach from the stairs, the song was cut off halfway, disappointment flooding though Y/N. She wondered why he never played it right in front of her. 
“Hi, Yoongi,” Y/N slipped into the room, promptly perching herself beside him on the piano bench. Her heart ached looking at him, purplish circles under his usually vibrant hazel eyes, as if he hadn’t been getting enough sleep. “What are we doing today?”
“I figured we could attempt something more difficult. ‘Someone Like You’, Adele,” Yoongi tapped on the sheet music he had printed out, missing the spark of excitement that lit up Y/N’s face. Usually, they’d do short tunes, nothing that one would hear on the radio. She must be improving, in his opinion. 
Not making his usual small talk, Yoongi dove into teaching her patiently, all business. Y/N jolted whenever his foot would press over hers on the sustain pedal, so embarrassingly starved for his touch it was humiliating. She didn’t know how to get back to how they were prior to that week, but she felt like she needed it more than she needed to breathe. 
They made it up to the chorus by the time an hour had passed, and that was typically how long Yoongi would teach her before Y/N’s wrists would get sore. Massaging them, Y/N bit her lip, watching Yoongi scrawl a note where they left off in the score, his hair hanging in his face and curtaining it from her. 
“Yoongi, what’s that song you always play when you’re alone?” Y/N tried to get him to stay with her longer, to open up, anything. She wasn’t sure if it was the right topic to bring up, but again, she was desperate. 
Yoongi stilled, pushing hair behind his ears and finally looking her in the eye. When he could smell the melancholy coming off of her in suffocating waves, his features softened, and he felt like he could tell her anything that she wanted to know. 
“It’s just something I play mindlessly,” Yoongi dismissed, tongue peaking out to moisten his lips. “I wrote it a long time ago.”
“I thought that you might have written it,” Y/N brightened up a little, suddenly very impressed with Yoongi’s talent. “It’s beautiful, I love it. Why don’t you ever play it for me?”
Yoongi went pink, shockingly, and diverted his eyes at once. Y/N wasn’t having it anymore. 
“Yoongi, can you tell me what’s wrong? You’ve been distant all week, and if it was something I said or did, I want to make amends,” Y/N begged, her voice fraying at the end– she felt like she was going to have a nervous breakdown at that point. “I really miss you.”
Her final utterance was soft, broken, and small. Yoongi’s head immediately whipped up, smelling the salinity of tears gathering in the corner of Y/N’s eyes, and he suddenly felt like the world’s biggest prick. 
“Come here, I miss you too, sweetheart,” Yoongi broke down, pulling Y/N in for a hug by her waist, gently wrapping his arms around her middle as she swallowed down her tears. “I’m sorry, don’t cry, please, don’t cry because of me. I’m an asshole.”
“No you’re not,” Y/N sniffed into his chest, soothed by the scent of his spiced vanilla shampoo. She hadn’t been close enough to smell that comforting scent in days, but it felt like a lifetime. “You’re just stubborn. Is this about Tuesday? Your questions about me forgetting things from the past?”
“You can just forget about it, sweetheart, really. I’m sorry for being moody, it’s just…” Yoongi trailed off, looking conflicted and pained. 
“I’m not going to forget it, it’s clearly bothering you. Say your piece,” Y/N pulled away from Yoongi, staring at him expectantly. She wasn’t letting him out of her sight until whatever was on his mind was hashed out. 
Yoongi slouched on the bench running both hands through his hair and appearing to sort out his thoughts, perhaps figuring out where to begin. 
“Y/N, you went to school in Boston, right?” Yoongi spoke after several excruciating seconds, not waiting for her response but charging on, “I was born in Boston. Unlike most hybrids, I was born naturally, not created in a lab. My mom and I worked under the table at that bar I mentioned, The Black Lodge, remember?”
“I remember,” Y/N confirmed, having no ever-loving clue where he was going with this. 
“So, you never went to that bar? Think back, do you ever remember walking by it, hearing about it from someone?” Yoongi pressed, even though Y/N was almost positive she had no knowledge of that bar prior to adopting Yoongi. “It was near Chinatown. By that basketball court you mentioned you used to pass by on your way to school.”
“No, I’m sorry Yoongi… I don’t remember ever going to a bar called The Black Lodge.”
Yoongi sighed, pinching the bridge of his nose delicately and nodding to himself. 
“I might not have gone to that bar, but honestly, Yoongi, since I’ve adopted you, I couldn’t help but feel this sense of familiarity with you. It’s the strangest thing. Have we… Have we met before? Is that what you meant the other day, about forgetting someone you’ve met before?”
Yoongi glanced at her out of the corner of his eye, hope sparkling there. Was it true? They have met prior to that day at the shelter? Why couldn’t Y/N remember it?
“Maybe,” Yoongi straightened up, apparently wanting her to piece everything together herself. Y/N was trying, despairingly so, not believing she could ever meet Yoongi and forget him in a hurry. 
“Maybe? Yoongi, be serious, have we met before? Why can’t you just tell me?” Y/N gave up her memory combing in favor of accusing Yoongi, her temper getting the best of her. 
Yoongi stood, groaning in frustration. He strode across the room, shutting the French doors to the music room, effectively making their conversation private. For good measure, the leopard hybrid pressed down on the pin that locked them inside, to prevent interruptions. The hair on the back of Y/N’s neck stood on end, not expecting Yoongi to act that way. 
“The Black Lodge, it was a fucked up place. I don’t really know exactly what was wrong with it, if it was cursed, some kind of fucking portal like those losers on paranormal shows you and Jeongguk watch talk about, or if it was built on a magical tectonic plate that made it the fucked up place that it was,” Yoongi collapsed onto the leather loveseat, head tipped back as he ranted. 
“What do you mean?” Y/N furrowed her eyebrows, completely lost. Any sort of paranormal subject matter was something that didn’t typically interest Yoongi. He tolerated talking about it, but he wasn’t one to bring it up. 
“What I mean, sweetheart, is that you were there. One year ago, you were in The Black Lodge, on a Friday night, by yourself. But you can’t remember, because everyone who comes into the bar forgets it as soon as they leave,” Yoongi finally revealed, his voice tired and resigned. “Me, being the fucked up exception, of course.”
A pin could drop, and it would sound like a gunshot. Y/N, who had been standing by the piano, began to feel dizzy from this confession, so she woodenly walked to the loveseat and dropped down heavily beside Yoongi. His spotted ears perked up with her movement, but he seemed to give her a few moments to process. 
“How is that possible? It can’t be, there’s no way… there’s no way…” Y/N babbled, Yoongi using a hand to rub slow circles on her back. “I met you a year ago? How could I? How could I possibly forget you?” 
“Everyone forgets The Black Lodge, except for those who actually work there, for some reason. Patrons forget, and they usually never come back. You were not exempt from that, no matter how much I wanted to believe you would be,” Yoongi murmured, and Y/N realized that he had been holding on to all of this information for months, probably waiting to see if she would ever recover the memory. 
“Did we talk at all? Yoongi, I swear, I would have remembered if we did. This doesn’t make any sense,” Y/N started to feel delirious, staring at Yoongi imploringly. 
Yoongi’s hand on her back became motionless, resting over a shoulder blade. Though he definitely looked relieved to finally be sharing all of this with her, Y/N could tell there were things that he was holding back. Reeling too much to pry, she waited for him to speak again. 
“Yes, we talked. After I played piano for a bit, you approached me. I made you drinks, and we talked for a while.”
Expelling a breath she had been holding, Y/N took a look, a good look at Yoongi, soaking in every feature, every strand of hair on his head, the twitch of an ear, the shape of his jaw. That ever-present emotion, the sense of familiarity, returned tenfold, and suddenly she couldn’t deny that Yoongi was telling the truth. 
“So you must have recognized me at the shelter? You should have said something, Yoongi,” Y/N said mournfully, feeling bad that he had been holding onto this for so long, waiting for her to remember him. It formed a sour pit in her stomach. 
“I didn’t really know how to. I could tell the day you came in, you had no idea who I was,” Yoongi replied gently, still looking like he was holding onto a key bit of information. “You know, when you came in, I thought you recognized me, even though I was shifted. I thought you came back the next morning to adopt me, but then you adopted the other six as well…”
Y/N’s heart started to race, the conversation taking a more intimate, meaningful turn, and it had her head spinning. 
“I couldn’t leave you all there,” Y/N breathed, Yoongi nodding along with her response. 
“I know that. I also know you’re not totally well-versed in hybrid behavior, let alone for hybrids like all of us, but there’s something I should tell you. We’re not, by nature, entirely fond of having to share the human who adopts us. That’s why you’ve had a hard time with some of them, like Namjoon and Jeongguk. Myself, well, I wish I could say it didn’t bother me like it did them, but I’d be lying to you.”
“What?” Y/N, like she was shocked by a live wire, felt her stomach doing somersaults, the room becoming insufferably hot around her. “S-share me? I–”
“We’ve all made peace with it, of course,” Yoongi cut her off, not wanting to give her the wrong idea. “We’re all happy here, I think, with you. I just thought that telling you that would give you some perspective on the jealousy that will probably worsen over time.”
“Yoongi, I don’t even know what to say…” 
“Y/N, I know how you feel,” Yoongi interrupted once more, his expression serious as his hand shifted from her shoulder blade to her upper arm. “About us, all of us. For now, I think I’m the only one who knows, but you can’t hide it from them forever.”
With this statement, Y/N actually flinched off of the loveseat, shooting across the room to gawk at Yoongi with astonishment. 
“What are you talking about? The fact that I care about all of you? I think we’ve established that,” Y/N attempted to throw Yoongi off, just in case he was getting at what she thought he was. No way. Was she about to get rejected, her romantic feelings snuffed out like a flame?
“Call it that, sure, Y/N. Take your time to process your feelings, and we’ll talk about it then,” Yoongi sighed, standing and moving towards the door, apparently trying to end the conversation and move on with their evening. Not on Y/N’s watch. 
“Oh, no way, Yoongi, you can’t just say something like that and expect me to drop it,” Y/N gripped his wrist, blood rushing in her ears as he looked down at her through his lashes. “Besides, there’s something you’re not telling me. The whole thing about us meeting at The Black Lodge and everything, it doesn’t add up.”
“How so?” Yoongi lifted a brow at the change of subject, eyes on her hand encircling his wrist. 
“Well, if what you say is true, and everyone who patrons that bar forgets about it and never comes back, you’ve must have met thousands of people over the years. What about me was so memorable?” Y/N challenged, shock settling over Yoongi’s face, almost comically so. 
“Are you serious?” 
“Deadly. What, did I spill my drink on you?”
“No, I told you, we talked. I made you a drink, some kind of gin martini. You left, and you never came back,” Yoongi explained, his never-ending patience seemingly beginning to wear thin. 
“What did we talk about?” Y/N began to pry, secretly pleased that she had distracted him enough to not press the whole ‘I know how you feel’ situation. 
“I don’t know, Y/N, your classes? The weather, piano? Normal stuff.”
“So talking about university classes, the shitty weather, and music left enough of an impression on you to recognize me after a year?” 
“What exactly do you want me to say, sweetheart? I can’t help that I remember that night and you don’t!” Yoongi exclaimed, his voice raising a tad as annoyance washed over him. 
“I want you to tell me what you’re keeping from me.”
They glared at each other, the only sound in the room from the metronome ticking away on the piano that Yoongi had forgotten to switch off. Shaking her grip from his wrist, Yoongi pushed back some of his hair again, sucking his teeth. 
“Fine. You asked for my number,” Yoongi admitted, watching Y/N’s expression carefully. 
“Okay, yeah, that sounds like me. Again, something that probably happened to you all the time, I mean look at you,” Y/N was unconvinced this was the bombshell, Yoongi making a noise of exasperation. “I’m just going to assume you let me down gently, I was tipsy, and I said something embarrassing. Trying to pry this out of you is like pulling teeth, and I should get going on dinner.”
With that, Y/N unlocked the door to the music room, marching out into the hallway in embarrassment and making it halfway to the stairs before a grasp on her elbow yanked her back, Y/N’s world turning upside-down as Yoongi easily slung her over his shoulders in a fireman’s carry. Too stunned to make a noise, she limply felt Yoongi carry her into his bedroom, kicking his door shut behind them and setting her down on her feet, his eyes flashing with anger. 
“Will you just listen to me for a second?” Yoongi hissed, clamping his wiry hand over her mouth before she could cuss him out. This was her first spat with Yoongi, and it had her blood positively boiling. Shouldn’t this have been a tender moment, finding out that she really had known Yoongi all along?
“You came into the bar, torn up over a shitty exam result. I noticed you sitting at the bar while I finished up my set, but when I got up, you were heading my way. You complimented my playing and whatnot, and complained that the drink the bartender made you wasn’t stiff enough,” Yoongi articulated each word with precision, as if he was reliving the memory mentally. “I offered to make one for you. Like I said, we talked about your classes, the weather, music, and as the night went on, more personal things. You told me about your house, your friends, your family. I liked talking to you, so I sat beside you and we continued our conversation.”
Under his palm, Y/N’s cheeks were burning up, and she knew that Yoongi could feel it. She was hooked on every word, and she was convinced there was nothing in this world that existed other than Yoongi. 
“After a while, you asked me to show you where the bathroom was, and that you were thinking about heading out. I waited for you outside of the bathroom to say goodbye– I didn’t really want to, because I knew I’d never see you again, but I figured I’d have to suck it up– and you walked right up to me, pushed me against a wall–”
Y/N yelped from beneath Yoongi’s palm, ice-cold dread flooding through her. Oh no, she threw herself at him. He was right, she was better off not knowing. He pressed on, ignoring the noise she made. 
“You pushed me against the wall, dug a pen out of your purse, and demanded that I write my number down on your forearm. That, I promise you, hasn’t happened before. I’ve gotten numbers, but I never handed mine out– what’s the point, if they don’t remember you?”
When Yoongi was satisfied Y/N wouldn’t start hollering at him, he dropped his palm, tracing a pointer finger down the length of Y/N’s forearm, goosebumps following in its wake. Heart still pounding, Y/N found that she was sufficiently shut up. 
“For the first time, I had hope that someone would remember me, outside of coworkers. Hope that you’d walk out of that fucking bar, go home, pick up the phone, and call. Remember. As I was writing my number down, you grabbed my hand, led me down the hall towards the kitchens for ‘one more drink’. I think we did a couple of shots of gin, but the possibility of you calling me the next day was fucking with my head too much to really focus on what the fuck we were drinking.”
“Yoongi,” Y/N whispered, overwhelmed and on the verge of passing out, honestly devastated she couldn’t remember this evening with Yoong. 
“Before you left, I walked you to the door. You were talking about how you wanted to take me to this concert the following Friday, making all these future plans. I just… never met anyone like you. I didn’t want you to leave, but I wanted you to leave just to see if you’d come back.”
“And I never did,” Y/N finished for him, hating the way Yoongi looked so regretful. “You waited, didn’t you?” 
“Yeah, I waited. I knew it wasn’t your fault, it was the fucking curse or whatever on the bar, but I waited. Each day that passed I grew less and less hopeful, until I realized you likely walked out of that bar and wondered why the hell you had a strange number on your arm.”
“Yoongi, I’m sorry,” Y/N sniffed, overcome with emotion. “I’m so sorry.”
“It isn’t your fault, it’s the bar, and whatever is wrong with it,” Yoongi shook his head, guiding Y/N to lean against his wall for support, her knees shaky and unsteady. “In the end, I got to see you again, after all.”
“I must have really liked talking to you, huh? Just like now. And you must have made me one hell of a drink to push you against a wall and demand for your number,” Y/N tried to lighten the mood, now angry with herself that she had backed Yoongi into a corner. 
“Yeah, I really liked talking to you too. I really liked you.”
An odd look crossed over Yoongi’s face as soon as those words left his mouth, absently reaching down to tuck hair behind Y/N’s ear. Heart galloping in her chest at the gravity, the meaning of what he just said, Y/N wanted to reach out and touch him, but was completely frozen. Yoongi’s lips dropped open to say something, but no sound came out. 
“What is it?” Y/N murmured, noting how close they were standing. 
“There’s something else I haven’t told you,” Yoongi’s gaze was intense, penetrating, and pleading. “I don’t know how you’ll react, though.”
“I’m sure there’s nothing that can shock me now, angel…” Y/N had motion in her limbs again, hand on Yoongi’s cheek to tilt his face back to her, his eyes searching and unsure. 
He leaned his cheek into her touch before pulling her hand away, still holding it and watching her every reaction. His tail, which was anxiously swishing behind him, began to curl around her leg, and Y/N stood transfixed as Yoongi pressed a featherlight kiss to the inside of her wrist, her palm, and finally the pad of her index finger. 
“That night, before you left. Before I said goodbye,” Yoongi whispered against her hand, maintaining their eye contact. “You asked me to kiss you, and I did.”
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Taglist; @blancflms @grazysf @sbromp @jaxavance @sunderlight @ot7nem @mageprincess7 @wittyreader @drenix004 @mayla548 @skyys-universe @ddaeng-angmoh @trtlthts @exfolitae @kalala22 @xiusmarshmallow @bangtans-momma @zae007live @paigetj @singukieee @serendididy @lilacdreams-00 @dreamerwasfound @ninjacups @osakis-gf @itwillbealways-d @xthefuckerysquaredx @momowantscats @molshole @gooooomz @uarmyhore @lopprhe @oopscoop @xicanacorpse @i-like-anime13 @hemziii @demarie04 @im-sinking-in-mud @talkyoongitome @bangtxnbxunch @primrose2507 @kihyunniesmonbebe @lilmxchis @7evensin @00ihatesnaku @neverthefirstchoice @sometingreallycool @cathy-1997
Please do not repost or translate my work. Thank you!
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chaoticrebels · 1 year
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One for the mun, one for Eddie. But honestly, happy valentines day <3
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twistedstxrs · 2 years
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✪↬✘ @hwkingshell ✘↫✪
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❝Oh don't you look a professional, that's adorable. Are you meant to be a professor? Cause if you are then you can teach me and thing or two in the bedroom. Which is right this way.❞
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slvt4lanadelrey · 11 months
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Flirty Stranger | Wednesday Addams
Warnings: swearing, Tyler
Wednesday x Galpin!fem
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"That'll be 3.99 please, sir." You smiled polity at the taller man infront of you, he sniffled a smile; slamming a five dollar bill into your hand. You gritted your teeth, Lucas was always an ass.
You pressed down on the till, it slamming open; the coins and loss change jiggling when it did. You received his change, handing it to him with a smile.
"Have a nice day." It was a rule at the coffee store: be polite, smile and just be an averagely good person.
Lucas smiled back, placing the money onto the edge of the tip jar.
"Do you want my chaple change, Galpin?" Your nose flared, fingers wrapping around the counter of the table. This was a repeating game with the boy; he had some sick pleasure from you begging for his money. Today though, you honesly couldn't care if he got you fired. You'd burnt the tip of your finger in boiling water, an absolute fiend demanded that you got their order wrong, four times. Your older brother, Tyler, had stormed into the store late for his shift which somehow led to your dad shouting at you for not waking your brother up in time. Fair to say your day was horrible, and all you wanted to was dive head first into a book.
"I don't want, nor do I need your spare money, Lucas." His smiled dropped, eyes casting into a dark gaze.
"I think you miss spoke? Did you mean, Yes sir?" You could have sworn by the amount of times you'd gritted your teeth you wouldn't have any by the end of the shift.
"No. I did not miss speak."
He coughed, the coins teasing the tip jar.
"You know that job is a privilege, not a right." Another person entered the coffee shop, walking into the line that only consisted of Lucas.
"Are you being rude again?" The women asked, pressing her cold finger into Lucas' back. Lucas shrugged the finger off, face drifting into fear at the sight of the girl infront of him.
"No. No Wednesday, we- she was only.." he stuttered out, his fingers finally releasing the money into the jaw. He collected his coffee, sprinting out of the store without a second look.
"Evening. May I have a coffee?" You stared at the girl, her eyes cold and hooded when they looked at you. She was dressed in Nevermore uniform, which meant she had some sort of power.
"Obviously, this is a cafe?" You retorted, eyes tired. Your shoulders were sagged, aching from your bad posture, your eyes were dry and begging for a finger to run into the wisk lids.
"Black. No sugar, no cream."
You hummed, pouring the rich beads of bean's into the crusher. Within moments the coffee was done, steaming in the air. You cupped the lid, pressing it down onto the cup. You slid it onto the counter, telling the girl infont of you the price. She handed you the money, precisely.
"Here." She slipped a hundred dollor bill into the cup, nodding solemnly. You groaned, rolling your eyes. Your fingers dipped into the cup, pressing the bill into her chest.
"I'm not a charity case." She frowned deeper, hand holding the bill.
"I did not imply such a thing. I am measly complamenting your abilities of making an admirable coffee. Is that a crime?" The girl infront of you asked, speaking in such a formality you almost cringed.
"Look, it's nice and all but I'd rather you go on with your day. Makes my life easier." The girl carried on to frown, placing the bill once again into the jaw. The same action played out; you pulled the bill out, she placed it back in.
"Why are you so stubborn?"
"Why are you so stuborn?" You mocked, rolling your eyes.
"This surely isn't allowed as a worker, your being deliciously rude." The girl commented, standing slightly less tall; almost like you had drained the energy out of her.
Your eyes drooped, sighing out in frustration.
"I'm a barista, I'm literally serving coffee to pay my phone bill. I don't owe you anything, I'm not a slave, I shouldn't have to beg you to give me a tip- I don't want a tip. You've payed your bill, so leave."
Wednesday shifted on her feet, her tongue rolling over her teeth.
"Fine." You sighed out, thankful that she finally gave you the space. Then, her fingers wrapped around your belt loop; tugging you forward. She slid the note into your pant pocket, turning around before you could object.
You stared at the open space she once took up. Another customer taking up the empty space within momemts.
"Hi, Ma'am, how may I help you?"
---
Days went by, Lucas didn't harass you. Atleast not at work, at school was a different topic. You eventually learnt the ravens name; Wednesday Addams.
The door bell rang, in walking someone dressed all in black. Instead of coming straight to the till they went to table three. The smaller girl slid into open row, placing her hands on the table and locking them together.
You sigh, Wednesday sitting tall on the chair. You picked up your note book, walking towards the argumentative girl.
"What can I get you today?" You asked, smile plastered on your face. Your pen etched into the paper below it, awaiting the girls answer.
"Mm. My usual." She tucked herself further into the seat, glaring up at you.
You groaned, placing the book down on the table, resting your hand on it.
"Do you really think I can remember that?" Wednesday looked at you, fantom smile dancing on her lips.
"I bet you've remembered every detail of my face." She stated proudly, daring you with a smirk.
"Is that so?" You leaned down, your body tumbling over hers. She nodded, her finger tracking up your arm.
"I've remembered yours."
You hum into the air, smiling like you just won the lottery. You pulled back, your frame casting a shadow over Wednesday's small one.
"What's your name again?"
The question knocked the air out of Wednesday, sucking all of her confidence out.
"Uh. Wednesday Addams."
Your tongue rolled over your top teeth, then sucked your bottom lip into your mouth. Humming to fill the deafening silence.
"Wednesday? That's new. Do you still want that black coffee?" Wednesday clenched her jaw, moving her wandering hand away from you.
"Maybe your number would suffice." She muttered, her eyes still undressing you. You nodded, writing something down on your notepad.
You slid it over, not missing the way her eyes sparked and she almost groaned when the piece of paper was in her hands.
Nice try :) I'm not that easy <3
"That coffee will do, I guess." She groaned, staring at the paper in defeat. Her posture deflated, falling into a soulless sight.
"Fantastic"
Your shift dragged like always, your day seemingly never ending. The Raven haired girl that sent a nerve down your spine stayed, all day.
"Miss Addams, this cafe is closing." You mumbled out from under the counter, your hands cleaning up the beans you spilled earlier that day. Wednesday shuffled towards you, feet stopping when they came face to face with yours.
"May I walk you home?" She asked, standing taller with the suggestion. You was on your knees infront of her, staring through messy hair.
"Why?" You stood back up, placing the beans into the trash, wiping your hands free of the dust that built up on your open palm.
"Its dark, we never know what monster that lurkers outside the door." She said it in such a way that made you guess for what creep would be waiting for you. You nibbled on your bottom lip, staring at the girl who was similar height.
"I think that if any creep tried to have me they'd have to put up a fight. Plus, your the stranger." You noted, walking through the store with a cloth in your hand; wiping down the tables.
Wednesday followed closely after, following you like a lap dog.
"I don't have to be. If only you'd tell me your number. I've been told that I am a gracious date planner." She nodded, proud of her words; rethinking her previous conversations with someone.
"You've been on a date?" You laughed, mocking the implication. She shuffled on her feet, her fringe slightly frazzled at the tiresome day.
"Well no. But- but I assume I would be, I'm a bit of a perfectionist." You stared blankly at her, knowing she was eventually going to tire you down.
"No."
She blinked, her fist clenching around her skirt hem.
"And why not?" She all but whined, sounding like a toddler who wasn't allowed ice-cream, she may have well stomped her feet and screamed.
"Because I don't have time." You mumbled, pushing your lose hair out of your face. You brushed past her, not missing the way her fingers touched yours in a hope to grab your attention; when it didn't work she groaned.
"You can't possibly be that busy? Granted, you have school, maybe an after school activity? Then homework, coming here for- well awhile, then your free to spend your day." Wednesday thought, labeling your whole day.
You hummed, leaning over the counter. It was just like the first time you met, her standing infront of the counter, staring at you through dark eyes.
"I wake up at six, get dressed, plan my outfit and leave for school, I end school at three. I have rugby practise after school for two hours, then I have to come here. I leave her at eight, sometimes nine. After work I have to clean my whole house, cook for my dad and older brother, by then it's about eleven. Sometimes I can fit in my homework, other times i just do it in my breaks. After eleven, I have my shower, then I sleep and repeat my day." Wednesday placed her hand onto the counter, her face riddled with thought.
"Well. Give me your homework, so your break will be free and I can take you on a date, sound adequate?" You laughed, smiling at the girl who was dead serious.
"Why are you laughing? I did not state a joke." Wednesday muttered, pressing herself more into the counter. Your faces were inches away from each other, a daring smile still on yours.
"Uh huh. Your cute, Wednesday." Your finger brushed her fringe, making sure it was in the right place. You hummed seeing the same face that you saw a week previously.
"I'm not a cheat thought, nice try." You leaned forward, kissing her cheek before pulling away. She was left stuck, lost in the mist of your fruitfully perfume and flawless actions of physical touch.
"Care to leave now? I really need to get home before my dad does." You slipped out of the apron, pushing all of your lose hair out of your face; dragging the back of your wrist across your forehead, wiping away the steamed sweat.
"I'll be back." You didnt doubt her in anyway, automatically assuming Wednesday hadn't been told no often in her life. She stormed out of the store. Finally after a while you was left to breath, sighing into the dead silent cafe. The bell rang, Tyler barging through the door.
"Was that Wednesday Addams?"
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happilychaengs · 5 months
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volleyball
college volleyball player momo x reader
word count: 1.2k
barely about volleyball tbh, mentions of a toxic ex, swearing, angst kind of?, fluff?, i'm not sure what to call this and tbh idk if this fic is even remotely good lmk i guess
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of all the places that momo could've dragged you to, you would have never expected her to drag you into your campus gymnasium, which is also used as the sports arena sometimes, when she said that she had a whole date planned out.
"didn't you say... we had a date?" your voice barely reaches momo's ears through the sounds of the balls sharply hitting the floor, shoes squeaking against the rubber.
"i did say volleyball, right?" momo glances over and you have a look on your face that almost guarantees that she didn't, "right... i didn't. i'm sorry."
you let go of momo's hand as you huff, trying to slip away from the arena. momo quickly catches your hand again, her eyes looking up to meet your now pissed off gaze, your back turned towards her.
"what?" the tone you spoke in sent shivers down her back.
momo's almost scared to let any words escape her mouth, "could... could you stay - i mean you don't have to, but - nevermind." her shoulders slump in defeat, half convinced that you were too mad at her to stay. it was the final game of the season, and for once she wanted you to see her play. even if it was only for a few minutes.
your heart sinks, your earlier demeanor now cast aside. "okay."
momo's head bolts upright and you swore you could've seen stars form in her eyes as her whole body crashes into yours, her arms pulling you in for a tight hug. "really? you mean it?"
your voice chokes out, your hands quickly tapping her shoulder for her to loosen her hold, which she quickly does, mumbling a low apology, "yes..., but you have to make it up to me for not telling me what we were doing."
she nods sheepishly, running her mouth as she held your hand, walking you to the bleachers, "okay, so volleyball-" and everything that she said passed you like a blur. she explained the rules of the sport which you already forgot, the roles and everything, you only remembering she was a libero, all the while introducing her team mates to you, which honestly, you can only remember nayeon because she once spiked the ball in your face on accident when you attended momo's practice for a few minutes. she stared at you with a hint of embarrassment, her head down as momo sat you down next to the scorekeeper, who momo introduced you to, jihyo, saying she got you an extra special seat closer to the court.
momo can't help but jump up and down, knowing you're watching her as jihyo rolls her eyes, swatting momo away, "you're about to start, go get changed."
momo does a stupid salute with a bright smile on her face before running to the lockers, leaving you alone with jihyo. she taps away at her phone for a few minutes before she turns her head to you, her phone face down on the table. "how is momo?"
the sudden start of conversation catches you by surprise, "she's... good. why?"
"i was just curious because i haven't seen her that happy in... a few years, to be honest."
your eyebrows furrow, "years?"
"we've known each other since we were kids. we were neighbors and all that and... in highschool, she had an ex - thankfully who isn't near us anymore - who hurt her pretty bad." your eyes widen, never hearing this from your girlfriend before, "her name - literally kills me to say her name at this point, was maddie."
"what did she do?"
you hear nayeon specifically yell at momo, who's now dressed in her jersey and doing some warm up drills, from across the court to receive better, momo sticking out her tongue in response.
"she was such a bitch." jihyo sighs and leans back in her chair, eyes wandering around the court, "she manipulated momo more times than i could count - even slapped her at one point."
your jaw almost drops, "are you serious?"
jihyo nods solemnly, "she didn't let momo leave her sight sometimes, even for practice, and uhm... she got extremely possessive at one point."
the bell rings throughout the arena, every player in position except momo. she's sprinting onto the court, fixing her shirt before standing next to nayeon, who flicks her head giving her a whole lecture.
"so... what happened?"
"momo almost quit volleyball to meet her reckless demands." jihyo repeats in a forced voice, mocking momo's ex, "'i don't give a fuck what you're doing, quit! you need to stay by my side!' she told momo that and god, i fucking hated that bitch and her stupid voice."
and no matter how stupid it sounded to anyone else, momo cherished volleyball over everything in the world and both you and jihyo knew that. she grew up playing the sport playing beach volleyball with her father and at one point her closet was only filled with dirty, deflated volleyballs she kept as memorabilia before she had to put it all in a box to move in with her roommate. she literally lived, laughed, and breathed the sport. to be almost stripped away from it, you couldn't believe it.
"are you serious?"
jihyo breathes out a small sigh, "yeah. she sucked."
all the players on the court shook hands, before a member from each team came up to rock, papers, scissors, the other team winning the ball.
"why did she never tell me?"
"i... she - i don't think she wants you to feel bad for her." jihyo sits up again, the game about to start, "i only told you because i felt like you deserved to know, but i don't want you to treat momo any different than you have. she's happy with you."
momo gets into position, knees bent and arms out as she smiles at you like a dope, not realizing the whistle blew as a ball flew into her face, putting her on the floor. you shot up from your seat, heart almost dropping as nayeon runs over to her, worried.
momo's nose is bleeding, her wincing as she wiped it, still smiling like a dope and sticking her thumb up.
"does this always happen to her?" worry washes over you.
"eyes on the ball, stupid!" jihyo stands up from her chair as she shouts at her from across the court before turning to you, her voice a lot quieter than it just was, "don't mind her. she does this every time."
the both of you sit down again, exhaling a sigh as jihyo flips the score. "i'm not going to treat her any differently, but... thank you for telling me."
jihyo gives you a light smile before the whistle blows again, momo getting a warning for taunting the other team too much.
"seriously though, she is stupid."
momo's covered in sweat, her panting as she ran up to you, the rest of her teammates going to the lockers. "did... did you see that? we won!" she has an impossibly bright smile on her face as you give her a tight hug, momo trying to push you off, "wait, i'm really sweaty - y/n, please-"
"i'm really proud of you." even though it was an borderline embarrassing statement to say aloud, you still said it, trying to push your embarrassment away.
momo gives up on trying to push you away as she slips into your embrace deeper, her features softening, "thank you."
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@wolfstarmicrofic
Prompt 1: aparecium - 216 words
Remus was feeling nervous. He had wanted to show his friends the map for a while, but he needed to make sure it was perfect first.
When he did show them, they were all impressed.
"So you're saying that with this we should be able to se everyone, at all times?" James asked, astonished
"Yeah, but I'm still working on a spell for that to apply to everyone in the castle. For now I just enchanted the teachers and Filch"
"I'll help!" Said Peter, looking excited. He always liked researching for pranks.
"We should put a spell so only us could see it. Like, with revelio or aparecium" Sirius suggested, still staring at the map.
James brightened up at this "it should probably be some frase, though. And if they say it wrong, the map insults them"
"I solemnly swear that I am up to no good" Remus whispered and Sirius' head snapped up
"Say that again" he said
"I solemnly swear that I am up to no good"
"Yes, Moony! That's brilliant" Peter said, excited
"You're brilliant" Sirius muttered, his eyes shining in admiration.
He usually looked at him like that, like he had hund the moon in the sky.
Remus would never admit it out loud, but those eyes melted him inside and out.
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