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#I’ve been through a lot with supernatural
secretmellowblog · 6 months
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People who try to analyze what happened on Tumblr on November 5th, 2020, often really overstate how much it was actually “about” Supernatural. As someone who has never been in the supernatural fandom ever but dID join in on the hysterical destielposting—it was really more about the stress of the pandemic and the 2020 presidential election.
The two biggest Youtubers I’ve seen try to dissect “what happened that November 5th” in video essays both weren’t American—- and I think that explains why they both tried to explain the hysteria primarily via analyzing the Supernatural fandom/the original show, rather than through the lens of the election. And while those videos are cool, valid, informational, and make lots of really well-considered interesting points— I can tell you that me and almost all my mutuals had literally no knowledge or interest in the fact that “oh supernatural had made nods at the ship in the past but the creators were adamant that I wouldn’t be canon” or etc etc etc etc. the first time I learned about any of that context was way later, watching videos where people claimed that fandom history context (that I did not know anything about) was the actual reason for the hysteria.
But the reality is that people latched on to the Destiel stuff because it was a piece of big useless inane zero-stakes fandom news in a time when we were desperately waiting for serious high stakes election news. We were latching onto a “positive “ piece of inane stupid fandom news in a time of great stress, with all the desperation of a drowning man who latches onto whatever piece of wood will keep him afloat.
The core of the hysteria was that Americans (who make up a huge chunk of tumblr’s userbase) were currently glued to their laptops watching the live presidential election vote counts come in. These vote counts were taking an extended amount of time due to the pandemic causing high numbers of mail-in ballots, resulting in a constant state of Election Day Stress for multiple days straight.
This was also during the height of the Pandemic. People had predicted Trump’s presidency would be bad; no one had predicted it would be this apocalyptically bad. No one had predicted pandemics and lockdowns and hospitals overflowing with bodybags. remember Trump spreading Covid lies and conspiracies?? There were so many Qanon conspiracies about democrats being Satanic child traffickers who had to be put to death, and coup threats were mounting from the right wing side. It seemed like this election was a choice between ‘centrist democrat’ and “apocalyptic right wing conspiracy theory authoritarianism,” in the midst of pandemic conditions that people feared would never ever improve— and it seemed like a close election.
Another major point was that Trump voters were more likely to be antimaskers/Covid deniers, while Biden voters were more likely to take the pandemic seriously— so Biden voters were more likely to send in mail-in ballots instead of risking the in-person voting crowds, which meant their ballots would take much longer to count. And so, in many state electoral vote counts, it would initially seem like Trump was very far in the lead— only for Biden to slooooowly build up an agonizingly small lead as the mail in ballots came in, and then defeat Trump at the very end.
So you’re just watching these news sites giving live election updates, refreshing the page every 2 minutes to see if you’re going to live under a spineless centrist democrat or a literal Qanon Dictatorship. And then you go on tumblr to distract yourself, and there’s more election posting, and more agonizing over the votes, and more stress and despair—-
And then it’s been days and we’re right at the crucial tipping point where it’s anyone’s game and the next few hours will determine whether Trump will win, so you need to keep your eye on the vote count, because the next hours will determine the future of the pandemic and your country and your plans for your entire life—
And then stupid Destiel becomes canon! And it becomes canon in the silliest way possible!
If Destiel had become canon at any other time, it would have been a big goofy tumblr celebration? But we wouldn’t have gotten the insane explosion of hysterical interaction.
The entire core of it was the contrast between the inane meaningless stupidity of fandom news vs the actual stressful election news you wanted to hear! It really is best conveyed in that meme where Castiel says “I love you” and Dean indifferently responds with a piece of important election news.
It’s about the contrast between the low-stakes inanity of fandom and the massive life-destroying stakes of a terrifying election. There really was no reason it had be Supernatural specifically, except that Supernatural was a thing everyone knew basic things about from dashboard osmosis— it could’ve been any other equally huge silly fandom ship news about a ship everyone *knew of* but might not necessarily be invested in (ex. Stucky becoming canon, Johnlock becoming canon, Kirk/Spock becoming more canon somehow, etc etc etc.)
I think it’s true that people who weren’t paying agonizingly close attention to the American election news got swept up in it, and that non American Supernatural fans also were extremely excited for purely fandom reasons — but the entire reason it blew up to an unprecedented degree was because of that core of stressed out terrified Americans glued to their computers watching election results and suddenly receiving stupid fandom news instead, and deciding to just hysterically parodically hyper-celebrate this absurd useless zero-stakes news.
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I think it was also all elevated by the fact that, as I said before, this happened at the crucial “tipping point” of the election where the next few hours would determine the winner. The fact that Biden began to slowly develop a lead in the hours after made it feel, hysterically, as if the hours after Destiel became canon was somehow the turning point where he began to win; so celebrating Destiel felt like celebrating that slow turn towards victory.
The tl,dr is that it’s so important to Remember the Fifth of November …..in preparation the inevitable hysteria that will happen in the presidential election on November 5th of next year. XD. Personally I’m rooting for Johnlock or Frodo/Sam to somehow become canon in the eleventh hour right before the democrats win
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cosmicanakin · 24 days
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picking up the pieces.
adult content | minors do NOT interact.
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pairing. dean winchester x female reader.
outline. a heated argument with dean leads to a vulnerable confession of your long-held feelings.
word count. 1546.
warning(s). angst, arguments, implied sexual tension, mild language, season 1 dean, mature themes (nothing too explicit).
authors note. back with a new fic whaaaat?! i recently started rewatching supernatural to mend my broken heart after the season 15 finale… they deserved so much better & just thinking about it pisses me tf off. anyway i was listening to stairway to heaven for hours on end while writing this (that song is my childhood.) enjoooooy!
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You stared out the window of the Impala, watching the roads and scenery fly by as Led Zeppelin played softly in the background. The familiar rumble of the engine and the comfort of the leather seats usually provided a sense of peace, but today all you could feel was tension.
You and Dean had gotten into a nasty argument earlier, one that had been brewing for a while now. It was about his careless flirtation with other women, even when you two weren’t officially exclusive. You couldn’t help the feelings you had harbored for him over the years, feelings that only seemed to grow stronger the more time you spent together on the road. And it hurt to see him so freely give his attention and affection to anyone but you.
You tried to push those thoughts aside, to focus on the music and the drive. But it was impossible to ignore the way Dean kept stealing glances in your direction, the way his hand would occasionally graze your thigh in a move that had become comfortable and familiar between the two of you. Each subtle touch sent a jolt of electricity through your body, a painful reminder of what you couldn’t have.
As the familiar chords of the song played on, you closed your eyes and tried to will yourself to sleep, to escape this tense situation, even if just for a little while. But just as you felt yourself starting to drift off, Dean’s hand suddenly landed firmly on your inner thigh, sending your eyes flying open as your heart raced.
Without a word, Dean pulled the Impala over to the side of the road, putting the car in park before turning to face you. The intensity in his green eyes made your breath catch in your throat, and you found yourself unable to look away.
“We need to talk,” he said, his voice low and serious.
You swallowed hard, every fiber of your being telling you to run, to avoid this conversation at all costs. But you knew it was inevitable, that the tension between the two of you had been building for too long to ignore any longer.
“Okay,” you replied, your voice barely above a whisper.
Dean studied you for a moment, his gaze searching your face for something you couldn’t quite decipher. Finally, he let out a heavy sigh and ran a hand through his short, spiky hair.
“Look, I know things have been...tense between us lately,” he began, his eyes never leaving yours. “And I know a lot of that is my fault.”
You opened your mouth to interrupt, to argue that it was his fault, that his reckless flirting had hurt you more than you cared to admit. But he held up a hand, silencing you.
“Please, just let me say this,” he pleaded. “I’m not good at this whole...feelings thing. You know that. But I’ve been thinking a lot about what happened earlier, and I...” He paused, his brow furrowing as he struggled to find the right words.
“I’m sorry,” he said finally, his voice sincere. “I never meant to hurt you, I swear. It’s just...old habits die hard, you know? And I...” He hesitated, his gaze dropping to his hands, which were fidgeting nervously in his lap. “I guess I was...afraid.”
Your eyes widened in surprise at his confession, and you couldn’t help but lean forward slightly, your curiosity piqued.
“Afraid of what, Dean?” you asked softly.
He let out a humorless chuckle, shaking his head. “Afraid of this,” he said, gesturing vaguely between the two of you. “Afraid of...of letting myself feel something real, something that could actually last.”
Your heart ached at his words, the raw vulnerability in his voice cutting you deeper than any of his careless flirtations ever could. You knew, deep down, that Dean had been through more than his fair share of pain and loss in his life, and the thought of him being afraid to open himself up to you only made you love him more.
“Dean...” you began, your voice trembling slightly. “I...I had no idea.”
He looked up then, his green eyes meeting yours, and you were struck by the raw emotion you saw there. “I know,” he said, his voice barely above a whisper. “And that’s my fault. I...I’ve been pushing you away, because I’m scared of what this could be. Of what we could be.”
You felt your heart skip a beat at his words, hope and fear warring within you. “What are you saying, Dean?”you asked, fiddling with your thumbs.
He reached out then, his calloused hand coming to rest on your thigh again, his thumb brushing against it in a gentle caress. “I’m saying that...I care about you, more than I’ve ever cared about anyone. And I’m tired of pretending that I don’t.”
You felt your breath catch in your throat, your eyes flooding with tears as the weight of his words settled over you. “Dean, I...I care about you, too. So much,” you whispered, your voice shaking.
A small, tentative smile tugged at the corners of his lips, and he reached up to gently brush a stray tear from your cheek. “I know,” he murmured. “And that’s what scares me the most.”
You nodded, understanding dawning on you. “Because you’re afraid of losing me, too,” you said softly.
He nodded, his hand moving to cup your face, his thumb caressing your cheek. “Yeah,” he breathed. “I’ve already lost so much in my life, Y/N. I don’t think I could handle losing you, too.”
You leaned into his touch, savoring the warmth and comfort of his hand on your skin. “You won't lose me, Dean,” you whispered. “I’m not going anywhere.”
He studied your face for a long moment, his green eyes boring into yours, before slowly leaning in. Your heart raced as his lips brushed against yours, soft and tentative at first, before deepening into a passionate kiss.
When you finally broke apart, you were both breathing heavily, your foreheads resting against each other. “I love you, Y/N,” Dean murmured, his voice barely audible but you heard him clear as day.
“I love you, too, Dean,” you whisper, your fingers tangling in the short strands of his hair.
For a long moment, the two of you simply sat there, lost in each other’s embrace, the tension and pain of earlier melting away. But then, a thought occurred to you, and you pulled back slightly, your brow furrowing.
“What about Sam?” you asked, your voice tinged with concern. “I mean, we’re on our way to pick him up from Stanford, and I don’t want him to feel...I don’t know, awkward or anything.”
Dean chuckled softly, his thumb tracing the curve of your jaw. “Don’t worry about Sammy,” he said, a mischievous glint in his eye. “He’s been rooting for us to get our heads out of our asses for years.”
You couldn't help but laugh at that, the tension in your shoulders finally starting to ease. “I should have known,” you said, shaking your head in amusement.
Dean grinned, pulling you in for another kiss, this one deeper and more passionate than the last. When you finally broke apart, you were both breathless again, your hearts racing.
“So, what does this mean for us?” you asked, your voice soft and uncertain.
Dean's expression turned serious, his hand moving to intertwine with yours. “It means that I’m all in, Y/N,” he said, his voice low and sincere. “No more flirting with other women, no more pushing you away. I want this, us, more than anything.”
You felt your heart swell with emotion, tears of joy threatening to spill over. “Me too, Dean,” you whispered, squeezing his hand gently. “I’m in, too.”
He smiled then, a genuine, warm smile that lit up his entire face, and you couldn't help but lean in and kiss him again, savoring the feeling of his lips on yours, the warmth of his body against yours.
As you pulled apart, Dean’s expression turned mischievous once more. “So, what do you say we give Sammy another day and find us a nice, secluded spot to...celebrate?" he asked wiggling his brows, a hint of suggestiveness in his tone.
You couldn’t help but laugh at what you were hearing, playfully swatting his arm. “Dean Winchester, you are such a hornball,” you teased.
He grinned, his grip on your hand tightening. “Maybe so, but you love me anyway,” he said, his voice filled with a quiet confidence that made your heart flutter.
“That I do,” you murmured, leaning in to kiss him once more.
As the Impala rumbled back to life and Dean guided the car back onto the open road, you couldn’t help but feel a sense of peace and contentment wash over you. The tension and hurt of earlier had been replaced by a deep, abiding love and trust, and you knew that no matter what challenges lay ahead, you and Dean would face them together.
You nestled closer to Dean as he drove, your hand still intertwined with his, and Stairway to Heaven filling the air, you closed your eyes and allowed yourself to bask in the feeling of pure, unadulterated happiness.
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cloverbuilds · 11 months
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The Clementine (my favorite thing I’ve ever built)
I fought with myself for a long time about if I would ever share this build because I love it so much. But who I built it for no longer interests me and it’s been sitting for a while. So I’ve decided to set it out into the wild in hopes that someone will love it just as much as I do--  pretty please tag me if you use, I’d love to see it getting the attention it deserves! I also wanted to give a bit of something extra to try and make up for the time that has passed since my last upload. Thanks again for sticking with me through my (ongoing) health crisis! 🤍 Now... onto the details!
A sprawling traditional family home with lots of space for entertaining. Enjoy the views from a wraparound porch or one of several balconies.
Lot Details:
4+ beds
3+ bath
3 car garage
40 x 40 lot size
EPs Required: Ambitions, Supernatural (for French doors)
🍀 Download on Patreon (Early Access ends 06/05/23) 🍀
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glasgalahad · 2 months
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Dɪᴠɪɴᴇ Iɴᴛᴇʀᴠᴇɴᴛɪᴏɴ.
↠ “I’m the one who gripped you tight, and raised you from perdition.”
I originally had bigger plans for this, but I think the simplistic, scratchy style works well enough. I'm too tired and sad to add any more details.
I’ve been rewatching a lot of Supernatural’s early seasons, recently. Going through all the moments I love best out of the show, Castiel’s first appearance in Lazarus Rising is still one of my top favourite scenes, overall.
It’s beautifully shot, proudly displaying the terrible power an angel of god is dictated to possess. Of course, Misha's performance is a stunningly strong one- a hell of a first impression, even after so long. The calm, inflection-lacking dialogue style really fits with the disconnect I’d imagine divine beings have with the mortals they’re ordered to observe.
GʟᴀsGᴀʟᴀʜᴀᴅ 2024 | Mᴀʏ ɴᴏᴛ ʙᴇ ᴜsᴇᴅ/ʀᴇᴅɪsᴛʀɪʙᴜᴛᴇᴅ ᴡɪᴛʜᴏᴜᴛ ᴡʀɪᴛᴛᴇɴ ᴄᴏɴsᴇɴᴛ.
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dwonfilm · 1 month
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There’s no life after you. | Dean Winchester x Reader (one-shot)
Summary: Dean felt like he had no other option than to push [Y/N] out of his life completely. When he and Sam find a case in her hometown, he’s hit with all of the emotions he’d tried for so long to bury.
Warnings: swearing, mild-angst, mostly sadness and ending with fluff.
Pairing: Dean Winchester x Reader
Flashbacks are in bold.
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Dean and Sam had found a case in Reno, Nevada—a city that had a lot of memories particularly for the older Winchester. Sure they’d worked a dozen or more cases around here over the years but that wasn’t the type of memories that kept playing on his mind. He only wished it was that simple. Sam had opted to take the backseat, needing some extra rest on the drive and Dean usually drove his precious ‘67 impala anyway. Ever since they’d found this case, the eldest Winchester was uneasy. Not because it was anything special, from the details online it seemed like it was just another vamps nest—maybe even just a handful travelling together.
No, what began to plague his mind was something that cut much deeper than that. All he could think about was you.
It had been roughly two years since he’d last seen you. Every other second of the last year and half had been him fighting the urge to reach out, knowing two things for certain. One: you’d be far better off without him holding you down. Two: even if that wasn’t the case, he’d really hurt you the last time you spoke and despite how much he missed you.. you’d likely never speak to him again—but that’s what he’d wanted right? You to move on, you to live a life that wasn’t plagued by the dangers of all things supernatural. Find a good man, a normal man, settle down.. get married and have kids. Not have to worry about tending to someone who had spent his entire life broken. Shaking his head to try and rid himself of these thoughts, it seemed the universe had other plans.
It seemed at some point in the drive his playlist had changed and delved into the ‘divorced dad rock’ side of things—the first few notes of what he recognized as a Daughtry song began to play. Seemingly just as they’d finally crossed the state lines into Nevada, the lyrics began..
“Ten miles from town and I just broke down, spitting out smoke on the side of the road. I’m out here alone, just trying to get home to tell you I was wrong but you already know. Believe me I won’t stop at nothing to see you so I’ve started running.”
Now Dean knew exactly what song this was and it damn sure wasn’t helping with his desperate need to stop thinking about you. He reached out to change the song but when the chorus hit, he stopped and his finger merely hovered above the button.
“All that I’m after is a life full of laughter, as long as I’m laughing with you—and I think that all that still matters is love ever after, after the life we’ve been through. ‘Cause I know there’s no life after you.”
It was as if the song was delivered down by the hand of God himself, which only made the ache in Dean’s heart that much worse. He’d been in pain ever since he left two years prior, but he had no right to be—he knew that. After all, the reason he didn’t have you by his side was because he left. It was because he walked away. Deeply he’d sigh as the next verse again would line up with the exact thought in his head.
“Last time we talked, the night that I walked burns like an iron in the back of my mind. I must have been high, to say you and I, weren’t meant to be and just wasting my time. Oh why did I ever doubt you? You know I would die here without you.”
Death had truly paled in comparison to how he felt seeing the look in your eyes. All of the pain, the hurt as he watched you break in front of his very eyes. You’d been together three years in total, but what you didn’t know—what he refused to tell you is that his worst fear was becoming a reality. Lucifer had threatened you in order to make Dean comply with his demand. He’d figured out the only way to get to the elder Winchester was through you, seeing as Lucifer himself needed Sam for his own personal vendettas. It wasn’t long after this that Dean knew he had to get as far away from you as possible. All the pain and suffering he’d endured in his lifetime would be nothing if your death was due to him. He couldn’t live with that and more importantly, you deserved more than that out of this life.
“All that I’m after is a life full of laughter, as long as I’m laughing with you—and I think that all that still matters is love ever after, after the life we’ve been through. ‘Cause I know there’s no life after you.”
Sam began to stir in the backseat, which he’s caught sight of through the rear view mirror and so Dean quickly changed the station. He’d use Metallica specifically to shift the mood before his brother woke up and started asking too many questions. Questions that Dean wouldn’t have the answers to and he was already battling his mind to keep it all at bay.
Gripping Baby’s wheel tightly in his hands, he’d continue to path to Reno. About fifteen minutes later was when Sam’s eyes actually opened. “Mornin’ sleeping beauty.” Dean said with a (fake) smile on his face. “Ha-ha, very funny. Wait.. how long was I out? Are we in Nevada already?” He asked, rubbing the sleep from his eyes and noting their desert-like surroundings. “I don’t know, hours Sammy. Yeah we’re in Nevada—about an hour or two ‘til Reno.” Just saying the name of the city was enough to have him nervous again. There was a brief bit of silence between the brothers, Sam had a thought on the tip of his tongue but he didn’t know whether he should say it. Dean’s eyes had fixated on the road ahead and he sensed that his younger brother was gonna bring it up—bring you up, he’d always really liked you. Besides that, he could always seem to tell when things were troubling Dean despite his best efforts to hide it. “You know you could-“ Sam started but knowing it was coming, the elder brother immediately shut it down. “Sam, don’t. Please. I can’t and you know that.” Dean’s voice was shaky and that let him know that he’d already been thinking about things far too long. “You’ve been thinking about it. I know you, man. You think I didn’t see the look on your face when I told you we had something in Reno?” He sighed, knowing that his older brother was struggling with this didn’t make him feel good but he also knew it was making Dean feel worse. “Sammy, please.. I don’t wanna talk about it anymore.”
Sam would shake his head but he let it go, rehashing this with Dean while he was attempting to drive wasn’t gonna end well for either of them. Not to mention an hour and a half of odd tension in such a small place wasn’t ideal either. Instead, the younger brother’s eyes averted from the front of the car altogether as he turned to gaze out the window next to him. Sighing partially in relief and partially from the lingering thoughts, Dean would fully place his attention on the road and on the directions to this particular motel. They needed to get in, solve this case and get out before he did something he’d been trying for quite some time not to do.
Surprisingly this case was a little more difficult to follow through on, these vampires were incredibly elusive and their nest wasn’t the easiest to find. However, after a couple days lingering around they finally located the nest and were able to kill the three vamps that had been killing the locals. As it had become part of the job, Sam and Dean went out to a local dive bar to celebrate the victory—but Dean was trying to do more than that. He was trying to drown the lingering thoughts of you with whiskey, swallowing the liquid and letting it gently burn his throat. This would end up having the opposite effect and only made him think of you more. Over the first hour and change the brothers spent at the bar, three separate girls tried to hit on Dean but he didn’t really pay them any mind. Around the two hour mark the elder of the brothers decided he needed some air, getting up and walking outside. Dragging his dominant hand over his face he was doing anything to cling to that last bit of pride that he had. You were better off and he knew that, but every day that had been lost it was eating at him slowly. He needed a distraction and so he walked over to his precious car, getting into the driver’s seat and sighing. One flick of the wrist and the lights would come on, the radio coming in clear as day: it was that goddamn song again.
“You and I, right or wrong, there’s no other one. After this time spent alone it’s hard to believe that a man with sight could be so blind, thinking about the better times.. must’ve been out of my mind. So I’m running back to tell you.”
Again it seemed like the universe had intervened and Dean Winchester was far too drunk to fight it. Tears threatened to spill from his eyes and right now, all that he needed was you. He opened up the driver’s side door and got out just to come face to face with Sam, who had been worried when he couldn’t locate his brother in the bar. “What is it Dean?” He asked, noting the emotional state it was clear he was in—confused but not entirely. It wasn’t like him to be so open with his emotions, but you’d helped him with that. “I need to see her, Sammy. I can’t do this anymore.” There was enough emotion in his voice for his younger brother to know what he meant. Nodding Sam would approach the driver’s side door. “I’m driving, we’re not risking it with you.” Dean normally would protest but right now? All he needed to do was get to you. It didn’t matter how, he just needed to fill the void that he’d put there himself.
“All that I’m after is a life full of laughter, without you god knows what I’d do.”
Dean’s eyes were technically gazing out the window, but that’s not what he saw. His mind was flashing different images in rotation—one happy memory with you followed up by something he’d done to chase your memory away after he’d run away.
“All that I’m after is a life full of laughter, as long as I’m laughing with you and I think that all that still matters is love ever after—after the life we’ve been through. I know there’s no life after you.”
It seemed fast, but it had probably been about thirty minutes of time that had passed. Not that you lived very far at all, if you were even still at the last address the Winchesters had for you—Sam took a longer route hoping that Dean would sober up a little more before talking with you. Anyone would be able to smell the whiskey on him at this moment, but his words needed to be coherent if there was any chance of you hearing him out. It seemed that he had sort of the same idea because even when the impala had pulled into the driveway, he just sat there. “What if she doesn’t wanna talk?” Dean asked, somber tone to his voice as his eyes remained fixated on the front door of what he hoped was still your home. Mind racing almost as fast as his heart. “Dean, if I know anything about [Y/N], she’ll at least listen—even if she’s incredibly pissed and still hurt.” Sam reassured his older brother. Dean sighed again, not wanting to waste another second and also wanting to see have some alcohol in his system for this conversation. Slowly he opened the passenger side door and stepped out onto the asphalt driveway. Gently closing the door, it had still alerted a dog inside the home who was barking just a little bit every couple of seconds. He carried himself up the few cement steps, turning to see the front door closer than ever. Now more memories of the last time he was here were coming back.
“Dean, please.. why are you doing this? You can’t possibly just have stopped loving me, that’s not..” Her sobs were breaking his heart but he knew this was something he had to do. “Why are you walking away from this? From us? After everything we’ve been through.. after the life we’ve built from the ground up.. you’re just throwing it all away.” She felt as if there was a fire in your chest, she’d been sobbing so intensely for what seemed like forever. Mascara and eyeliner were smudged and made a mess of the space underneath her eyes. “Say something, Dean—please.. why are you pushing me away? What did I do?!” Every word became far more intense and the actual words were hard to discern from the sobs. Dean had just been staring at the floor since the words left his mouth. Three years next to her and he never imagined this day would come, but if you died just so Lucifer could get one up on him? He’d never survive. He’d never be able to carry the weight of your death or your blood on his hands—so this was the only way you got to live a long and happy life without him putting you in harm’s way. “[Y/N/N] I.. I just don’t think we were meant to work out. I’m sorry, I just-“ he was cut off by her intense sobs hearing him saying it again. “Please Dean.. don’t do this.. whatever I did wrong, whatever’s not working we can fix it. Please..” She pleaded, voice already hoarse from the crying and the wailing. “Sweetheart you didn’t do anything wrong. It’s me, I’m just, not made out for this relationship stuff.” He’d barely lifted his gaze again to meet her own, but only for a second. Seeing her like that was too hard for his heart to bare. “Why Dean.. please.. it’s been three years. Three years of this and we can talk about it. Whatever it is we can move past it together, don’t you love me anymore?” She sobbed out, arms wrapped around her own chest as Dean looked up to her face and met her gaze one last time. “Honey, I’ll love you ‘til the day I die.” Sighing he turned to walk out the front door, closing it and never looking back. He couldn’t look—his heart had already shattered.
Now here he was again, roughly two years later, taking the last few steps to fully stand at your front door. Lifting his hand which had formed a loose fist, he’d knock three times upon the wooden material of the door. There was no answer and no sign that anyone was home other than the dog barking that he’d heard moments prior. Dean was about to turn and walk back down the pathway when he heard the doorknob turning after the lock clicked out of position. “Do you know how late it is, what do you nee—“ her eyes widened when she realized who had just knocked at her door. “D-Dean.. what are you..” she felt her bottom lip quivering. Dean could tell this was the last thing she’d ever thought would happen. “Hi, sweetheart. I-“ before he could get another word out of his mouth, he was met with a harsh slap to the side of his face. His eyes fell as he collected his thoughts, waiting before speaking again. “I deserve that. I deserve that and so much more. [Y/N/N] I’m so sorry.. I’m so fucking sorry.” He got out, not being able to look back up at her just yet. “You’ve got some kind of nerve showing up here, this late at night.. Dean you broke my heart and you stomped on it to boot. Why do you think after two whole years that I’d listen to whatever the hell you have to say?” It was obvious that there was sadness and hurt laced within her voice, more so than the anger she’s trying to push forward. Slowly his head tilted back into its usual position and his eyes found hers again. “I know there’s no life after you.” It was all he could say in that second and her expression softened, before she’d built the wall back up. “You came all the way to quote a Daughtry song?”
“No, I’m quoting that damn song because for the three days Sam and I have been in Reno I’ve heard it everywhere. My car, in a store, hell in my head—[Y/N] I’ve been trying every day since I left to push your memory from my mind. I wanted so badly to forget about you and know that you were free to have a normal life. I also know that I’ve got no right to stand on your doorstep telling you how much pain I’ve been in since the second I walked out this door two years ago when this whole fucking thing is my fault.” He paused, tears slowly falling as he tried to blink them away. “[Y/N] I was afraid. I was so afraid.. I couldn’t lose you like that-“ Again he was cut off but just by her words this time. “Dean you did lose me, you pushed me away—fuck you pushed me out of your life altogether. You’re absolutely correct, you don’t have any right to stand here talking about your pain. I didn’t eat, I barely slept, for weeks after you left. All I did was lay on that couch and sob. Endlessly. After I couldn’t physically sob any more I thought, there has to be some kind of monster or witch doing this and so I researched for weeks and still barely ate and slept only a fraction more. All I came up with was dead end after dead end and so I finally had to realize the truth.” She sobbed out, pausing to try and steady her own voice. “You chose to leave on your own.” She’d opened her mouth to continue talking but now it was his turn to sob out, which caught her completely off guard. “He made me feel like I had no other choice..”
Now you stood with a perplexed look on your face as tears were streaming down your cheeks. “What.. who-“ before the question could even fully leave her lips, the man she loved began to speak again. “Lucifer. He needed Sammy, you know all that one true vessel shit, so he couldn’t hurt me that way. He knew any threat he put to Sam wouldn’t stick because deep down I knew that Lucifer needed Sam alive and well to complete whatever sick and twisted plan he had thought out.” She felt both her heart and her stomach drop, figuring out exactly where this was going. “[Y/N] he said he’d kill you and not think twice. I couldn’t.. I wouldn’t be able to live with myself if you died all because I love you. I wouldn’t be able to breathe knowing that your death was my fault and I’d never get your blood off my hands.” His confidence had wavered, the alcohol mostly wearing off. You sighed, a silence falling over the two of you as you attempted to process what he’d just said. “Dean.. why didn’t you just talk to me? Tell me what he said and we could’ve talked about it.” She asked, the venom gone from her words and a sadness settling over them. “I was scared. I didn’t know how to admit that I was scared especially to you, I’m the one that was supposed to keep you safe. I know that’s not an excuse and I’m not trying to excuse me hurting you like I did—that image of you hugging yourself and crying the hardest I’d ever seen someone cry has haunted me all this time. I never wanna hurt anyone but I damn sure never wanted to hurt you.. at all—let alone like that..”
Again a silence fell between them, it felt like a lifetime between their words and the action she’d finally take. Stepping forward she used both of her hands to cup his face, both having glassy hues due to all the tears. “I forgive you, Dean.” She said almost in a whisper. He felt his heart racing and he eyes searched hers for any sign that this might not be true. Seconds felt like hours but he couldn’t find any sign of deception and instinctively, he plunged forward to connect his lips with her own. It had caught her off guard but she was returning the kiss with an explosion of passion. They chased the other’s lips in a back and forth motion until they both couldn’t breathe. After pushing the limit a little further they’d separate but remain forehead-to-forehead. “I know there’s no life after you.” She spoke in a soft tone before pulling Dean inside of her home and re-locking the door.
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Birthday Pie
main masterlist | supernatural masterlist
SPOILERS! set between seasons 7 and 8 of supernatural, there are spoilers for both these seasons
summary: you celebrate his birthday even when he’s gone
pairing: dean winchester x female reader
rating: R for language
word count: 0.9k
warnings: sad, not at all a happy birthday for our beloved lil guy, language
author’s note: i’m sorry, okay? i’ve had this idea in my head for months and decided that today is a good day to release it? anyway, happy 45th birthday dean winchester! love you and very glad you’re alive and well and the series finale never happened! :)
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January 24th, 2013 — Dean’s 34th Birthday.
You were barely able to drag yourself out of bed and into the living room where you were now seated and watching TV. It didn’t matter what was on, you weren’t paying attention anyway. Your mind was completely focused on Dean. Your beloved Dean; who shouldn’t be wherever the fuck he was but instead safe in your arms.
He shouldn’t be spending his birthday terrified, missing you and his brother. He should be spending it with you, Sam, and Cas.
Sure, he wasn’t really the birthday party type of guy but each year since you met him you’d gotten him a pie and put candles in it for him to blow out. It’d started as a half-assed attempt to put a smile on his face when you learned it was his birthday and you couldn’t find a cake at the store.
He’d loved it.
“How’d you know I’d rather have pie?” he had asked, his face lighting up even more when you put two candles—a two and a four—in the center.
“I…had a feeling.” You had shrugged it off as not a big deal but deep down you both knew how much it meant to him.
And each year since then—come rain, shine, monsters, or the apocalypse—you made it your job to get Dean Winchester a pie on his birthday.
A few tears rolled down your cheeks, joining the half-dried ones there already. You hadn’t been sad on Dean’s birthday since his year before hell. But it was different then, you had him next to you and you were savoring every second. You might have been terrified of what would soon happen, but you were still with him.
**
“If you’re not already aware, Dean,” Castiel started, “you turn thirty-four today.”
“What?” Dean asked, confused. “Cas we—”
“Granted time seems to be passing differently here, but on earth it is currently your birthday.”
“Happy birthday, brother,” Benny joked.
“Yeah real fuckin’ happy,” Dean scoffed. “We’re stuck killing our way through this fuckin’ nightmare while the love of my life is spending my birthday alone.”
“I’m sure she’s okay, Dean,” Cas assured him. “She has Sam, he’ll look after her until we get back.”
“No, you don’t get it. Birthdays were…they were our thing, if that makes any goddamn sense.”
**
“Happy birthday, Dean,” you smiled, placing the pie in front of him.
“Twenty-six! God, that sounds old,” Dean laughed a little.
“You’re kidding right?” you asked after singing for him as he blew out the candles.
“What?”
“Twenty six may sound old to you, but trust me you are still fuckin’ adorable.”
“I am, aren’t I?” He grinned.
“You wanna do the honors, cutie?” you asked, handing him the kitchen knife.
“Gladly, sweetheart,” he said, taking it from you. You watched him cut a slice for you then an even bigger slice for himself.
“Dean,” you started as you watched him begin eating the pie. “I love you.”
He stopped eating and looked at you; “What?”
“I know there’s a lot about your life you haven’t told me, you’re lore you could call it, but I need you to know that I really do love you, Dean Winchester.”
“But how? I mean, I’m not exactly an open book and there’s no way…” he trailed off.
“No way, what?”
“There’s no way in hell you’d feel this way if you learned everything about me.”
Your heart broke at his words, and your expression definitely showed it.
“The amount of pure love I have for you is beyond measurable, Dean. And I might be crazy for saying this, and feeling this, but there is truly nothing you could say or do that would make me stop.”
“Really?” he asked quietly, as if he was scared to press his luck.
You nodded with a soft smile; “Really.”
“Well, look I’m not really one for…that…but I do…I do feel that way about you too. I guess what I’m saying is, uh, right back at cha?”
“See to any normal person that would sound like the ramblings of a crazy man,” you said, his smile only growing. “But to me? Absolute poetry.” You leaned over and kissed him. “Happy birthday, Dean.”
He simply kissed you back, smiling against your lips.
**
“Happy birthday, Dean,” you whispered, blowing out the candles on the small pie you’d bought. It was a one-person pie because you knew if you bought a regular one that at least three-quarters would not have been eaten.
You took out the candles and picked up your fork. Staring down at the desert, you let more tears fall.
“It shouldn’t be this hard to eat a fuckin’ pie,” you laughed humorously. Your phone rang next to you and you answered it; “Hey, Sam.”
“Hey,” he sighed. “I just wanted to call and check up on you. It being Dean’s birthday and all, I figured you might…you know…”
“Be huddled up in bed sobbing my eyes out?” you said.
“Yeah…”
“I’m holding it together Sammy, don’t worry about me,” you assured him.
“I always worry about you, you know that.”
There was a short pause in the conversation as you took a deep breath and let a few more tears fall; “I miss him, Sammy,” you admitted. “I just really miss him.”
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willgrahamscock · 3 days
Note
Just wanted to let you know you’ve crossed my dash like 5 times today through people I am following for reasons that have nothing to do with Hannibal and who, from what I’ve seen, mostly don’t even seem to have watched the show. I’m talking like fandoms on the opposite side of the globe vibe or sometimes even not fandom focused.
You are far reaching Miss Cock, very far reaching, one might even say you’ve begun to be prolific. (And I find this very funny as you’re someone I’m used to stumbling upon on my own) plus every time it’s been a different post!
I’ve always been a meme blog! I only started posting Hannibal late 2022 despite being in the fandom since 2013. I made a few gifsets back then but I was more popular in the supernatural fandom (I used to make a lot of edits and gifs) before ruinedchildhood kept rb my text posts (which back then was the highest honour), even back then my posts were reposted to Pinterest, Twitter and Reddit. Just under a different username because I changed it when Hannibal ended.
Long story short you can’t get rid of me my cringe posts will always find you.
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lineffability · 2 months
Text
The Serpent Files 🐍
chapters: 5/5 rating: M/E wordcount: 13.9k au: human, the magnus archives
summary: Aziraphale works as the head archivist at Eden Institute. Crowley has been supplying them with potentially cursed artifacts over the years -- until he himself gets entangled in a case that turns him from associate to client...
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[ art credit and support credit and 1000 hugs to: @chernozemm my beloved ]
start reading:
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“Ouroboros. Yes. The introductory statement is meant to be concise, though, akin to a title. You can describe the necklace in detail in your statement, Crowley. Also, I need you to state your name. It occurs to me I don't actually know it. I mean. I'm not saying I want to know your full name, or anything. Just, all these years– erm. You'd have to state it anyway. For formality's sake. We have a system.”
“Sure. So. Name's Crowley.”
“I… know that part. [sighs] Full names, please, throughout.”
“Ah. Anthony J Crowley.”
“I said full names, please. What's the J stand for?”
“Erm. Uh. Just a J, really. Thought it added a certain gravitas, y’know, flair. Je ne sais quoi. Makes people treat you serious, a J like that.”
“Uh. Alright. Well. Anthony J. Crowley, then. I suppose. Seriously? [clears throat] So. Please start from the beginning.”
“Mmmmhhhh wellll. I’ve been coming to Eden for, what, now, six years maybe?”
“I believe so. Yes.”
“Anyway, not like I go here often. We’ve met a handful of times, you and me, maybe nine, ten? I mean, it was ten times. I know. Uh. Not like I counted or anything. Just, coming here, it stays with you a bit, doesn’t it? All that occult shit. Which is why I come here, of course. I’m – what should I call it? A… supplier. Of sorts. I work with – this is confidential, right?”
“Yes. Internal use only. We don’t give out those files. Your words are safe with me. Erm. Us.”
“Good. Right. I work with the Doomsday Group. Can’t really talk about it much, but you’ve heard of them. Shady stuff, crime, theft, trade, religious artifacts, apocalyptic jazz, all that. Supernatural stuff, too, sometimes. Or claimed supernatural. You know I don’t believe in all that. Well. Didn’t. I didn’t believe in it. Now… uh, anyway. Sometimes we get those weird artifacts, right, apparently cursed, so I bring them to you, to, to check, or verify, or call bullshit. Or to lock them away, or whatever you do with them when you buy them off our lot. That’s how we met. Best part of this shit job, really, if I’m being honest. I didn’t ask to be– hm. Wish I could just– ngh. Confidential, right? Wish I could just be done with them. Run off. Can’t, though. But erm. Forget I said that, alright? Please.”
[pause] “You're rambling a bit, de- Crowley. Or should I, should I call you Anthony now?”
“Hell no. I mean – Crowley's fine. You've called me Crowley for years, haven't you? What, now you don't like it?”
“No, no, I do in fact quite – well, for propriety’s sake, the official documentation, I thought – nevermind. So, Crowley, while the background information on your…job is reasonable, might I politely remind you why you’re here? Please talk less about our personal relationship, or at least only insofar as it pertains to the case, and more about what happened to you since… since you put on that necklace.”
“Right. Righty-oh. S’ just, never been in this room before. The tape recorder, all that. I’ve only ever been here as a sort of… co-worker? Nah. You’re not my co-worker, you’re better than that. As a tradesman. So to be here as a client , it feels… surreal.”
“That is understandable. I trust you will muddle through, though.”
“Hey – remember the first thing I said when I came here? Today, I mean.”
[continue reading]
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worth-the-chaos · 3 months
Text
Adventures in Babysitting - Steve Harrington x female!reader - Chapter 14
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Chapter Summary: Nancy and Robin take a shot in the dark and Steve tries to protect you from the supernatural. When the darkness comes to get you, will his love be enough to protect you?
Content Warning: Upside Down scary stuff, swearing
Word Count: 6.0k
Author’s Note: Sorry this chapter took longer; I’m involved in a lot at college and I’m in some executive positions in the organizations I’m a part of and somehow everything is going wrong at the same time (yay!) so I’ve been putting out a lot of fires (like a girl boss of course). I hope you all enjoy this chapter!
Message me to be added to the taglist and get updated when the next chapter is posted!
Series Masterlist | Part 13 | Next Part
***
“Do you guys understand any of this?” Steve asked Lucas and Dustin as the three of them sat in the Wheelers’ basement. He was staring at the words on the article Nancy and Robin had found and none of it was making any sense to him. He was scared. Not knowing what was going to happen to you and when was tearing him apart and he needed to understand so that he could find some way to fix it. To protect you.
To save you.
A chill ran down his spine as he thought about it. He thought back to the way you had stood there, locked inside your own body and twitching slightly as you were trapped in a nightmare he couldn’t wake you from. He thought back to your activities afterwards. How you felt when he had shown you just how much he loved you. The way your body moved against his. He thought about how you were all he ever wanted—no, needed—and he couldn’t bear the thought of living a life without you in it.
“It’s pretty straightforward,” Dustin stared at him judgmentally.
“Oh, ‘straightforward’? Really?” Steve asked, not adoring the condescension in the freshman’s tone.
“So far, everyone Vecna has cursed has died, except for this old Victor Creel dude that Nancy found. He’s the only known survivor. If anyone knows how to beat this curse, it’s him,” Dustin explained. Steve could see a glint of optimism in the young boy’s eyes and he desperately wished he felt the same way. This situation just felt so hopeless though. How the fuck were they supposed to combat an otherworldly threat when the attacks were occurring cross-dimensionally?
“That’s assuming he was even cursed, Henderson, which we just don’t know,” Steve spat back, frustrated with the lack of answers. “How could Vecna have existed in the 50s? It just doesn’t make sense.”
Steve dragged a hand down his face in an attempt to keep his frustration at bay. He snapped his head up when he heard your voice lilt down the stairs, getting closer as you descended them.
“As far as we know, Eleven didn’t create the Upside Down; she just opened a gate to it,” you specified as you joined the group. Steve was quick to throw an arm around your waist, pulling you into him. Now that you knew that your time may be limited, Steve was extremely touchy. It was as if he thought that holding onto you would prevent another vision. You knew better, but still leaned into him, soaking up the comfort of his affection. You flushed as you remembered your activities from last night, desperately wishing that you had more time so that you could have more nights wrapped up in each other’s presence.
“Yeah, the Upside Down has probably existed for thousands of years…millions even. I wouldn’t be surprised if it predated the dinosaurs,” Dustin hypothesized, and you glanced over to see Lucas roll his eyes a bit. You couldn’t help but chuckle. Even at the end of the world, those kids could still make you laugh.
“Dinosaurs? What are we even talking about? Come on Dustin, you can’t just—“ Steve started but Lucas cut him off to refocus the conversation.
“Okay, but if there wasn’t a gate in the 50s, how did Vecna get through? How is he getting through now?”
“And why now?” You added.
“And why then? What he just pops out in the 50s, kills one family and he’s like, ‘I’m good’ just to come back thirty years later to kill some random teens? No offense,” Steve quickly added the last part turning to you as you glared up at him. You rolled your eyes and pulled away from him a bit before reaching into your back pocket.
“I almost forgot,” you said, fishing three sealed envelopes out of your back pocket. “These are for you guys.”
You handed them the envelopes. Steve furrowed his brows as he looked at you confused, studying the sealed letter in his hand. Dustin began to open it but you stopped him quickly. “No! What are you doing? That’s not for now. Don’t open it now!”
“Okay,” Dustin replied confused, stopping his previous movements. “I’m sorry, but what is this?” He held up the envelope and waved it slightly to emphasize his question.
“It’s…it’s a fail-safe,” you answered, your voice small. You caught Steve’s expression fall as you said it and you felt your heart ache in your chest as you thought about how you wouldn’t be able to be there for him to help him grieve. You felt a pang of guilt as you realized you would be the one causing his pain. “For after…you know, if things don’t work out.”
“What the fuck are you talking about, y/n?” Steve took a step towards you and grabbed your hand.
“Steve,” you looked him in the eyes, a pained expression across your face. Before he could continue arguing with you, Nancy, Robin, and Max bounded down the stairs. You all turned your attention towards the girls as Nancy opened her mouth to speak.
“Okay…we have a plan,” she smiled at all of you and suddenly you felt a feeling in your chest that you hadn’t felt in a while:
Hope.
You all quickly moved to sit on the various couches in the basement, Steve sitting next to you with a hand on your thigh as you listened to Nancy’s game plan.
“Than’s to Nancy’s newspaper minions, we are now rockstar psychology students at the University of Notre Dame,” Robin started, handing you and Steve each a folder containing the fraudulent academic files for one Ruth and Rose.
“Nice GPA,” you smirked, looking at Nancy and she smiled back at you. It felt nice to be optimistic for once.
“So we called Pennhurst Asylum, told them we’d like to speak with Creel for a thesis we’re co-writing on paranoid schizophrenics—“ Nancy continued, but Max cut her off, having been there for the whole conversation.
“To which they said no,” the redhead explained.
“But, we landed a three o’clock with the director. Now all we have to do is charm him and convince him to let us talk to Victor,” Robin added on.
“Yeah, we’ve been doing our Victor Creel homework,” Steve started, holding up the article printout, “We’ve got a lot of questions.”
“A lot,” Lucas emphasized.
“So do we. Hopefully Victor has the answers,” Nancy answered.
“Wait a second,” you spoke up, staring down at the file folder in your hand. “Where’s mine?”
“What?” Nancy’s face scrunched up, clearly confused by your question.
“I said, where’s mine?” You repeated yourself, holding up the file folder, your jaw beginning to set as you realized you weren’t being included.
“You’re not going,” Nancy replied, reaching over to grab the file from you.
“I think the fuck I am!” You stood up quickly, pulling the folder out of her reach. Steve quickly grabbed you by your belt loop, rolling his eyes and tugging you back down to sit next to him. You sat in a huff and he quickly pulled the folder away from you. “Hey!”
“Y/n, you’re not going. End of discussion,” he said plainly, handing the folder back to Nancy.
“I can’t do anything here Nancy! Maybe I could help with this asylum director guy….or-or-or I could ask Victor the right questions; I know what it’s like after all,” you defended yourself, but you could tell by the looks you were getting that no one was going to change their mind. Nancy opened her mouth to speak, but Robin spoke up before she could get a word out.
“Look, y/n. It’s too dangerous. Just let us do the heavy lifting, and you stay here where it’s safe.”
“Nowhere is safe, Robin. It doesn’t make a damn difference where the fuck I am,” you spat. Robin’s heart sank at your words because they were true; it didn’t really matter where you were. Vecna would find you regardless.
“Y/n, if you won’t do it for yourself, would you do it for me?” Steve spoke up. The expression on his face made you break, letting out an angry puff of air before you responded.
“Whatever,” you grumbled, quickly standing up and going upstairs. Your eyes were welling with tears and you didn’t want everyone to see you in your vulnerable state, even if it was completely understandable. Steve started to stand to go after you, but Dustin stopped him.
“Just, let me try and handle this,” the boy spoke up. Steve wasn’t sure why he was letting him, but shrugged. He knew how much you cared about the kids, especially Henderson, so it was worth a shot at least.
“Y/n?” Dustin asked after he had ascended the staircase. He caught sight of you wiping tears from your eyes before you were able to turn away and hide it.
“What do you want Dustin?” You asked, your voice sounding watery as you continued to cry, a small sob escaping your body.
“We’re doing everything we can,” he started, “and I know it doesn’t feel like enough, but it’s the best we can do. And I know you want to be in on all of the action, but I think it’s okay for you to take the backseat on this one.”
“I can’t just sit around here doing nothing,” you cried out, still trying to gain your composure as you turned around, wiping at the tears falling down your face. “I mean, I just…I just want to be out there so-so I can fix it. I don’t want any of you guys getting hurt,” you added, trying to swallow the lump in your throat as you looked at Dustin.
“Then stay here and protect us. Okay? You’ve always done a kick-ass job at it, so be here for us now. The most important thing is that when all is said and done, you’re still here. So let Nancy and Robin sort it out because I know they will. We all will,” Dustin reassured you. You walked over to the boy and pulled him into a tight hug. You still felt guilty about the way he had to grow up so fast, fighting unimaginable horrors while trying to figure out who he was and where he fit in. You couldn’t even imagine what that would have been like at his age.
With the pang in your chest, you felt pain return to your head, groaning as you let go of Dustin and put a hand to your temples. You felt something warm trickle from your nose, reaching up to wipe at it, fresh blood smearing across the back of your hand.
“Y/n, are-are you okay?” Dustin stared up at you, wide-eyed and frantic. You took a deep breath and the pain subsided a little, as you nodded at the boy.
“I’m still here, aren’t I?” You replied, giving him a weak smile in an attempt to hide the many ways you were not in fact okay.
You tried to take your own words to heart as the two of you made your way back down to the basement.
I’m still here.
***
Nancy and Robin had gone off to go try and talk to Victor Creel, leaving you, Steve, Lucas, Dustin, and Max to twiddle your thumbs in the Wheelers’ basement while you waited for answers that likely weren’t coming. You were sat next to Steve and he was running his warm hand in circles across your back as you sat there, head in your hands and foot anxiously tapping.
You were restless. You couldn’t sit here doing nothing; you had loose ends to tie up in case Nancy and Robin’s investigation didn’t turn up roses. You needed to make sure you were ready to leave this world behind, and presently you weren’t.
Suddenly you stood up, causing Steve to jump as he had zoned out, his thoughts drifting elsewhere before your sudden movement had brought him back to the present. You marched across the room and picked up Dustin’s walkie.
“If we go to East Hawkins, will this still reach Pennhurst?” You asked, inspecting the gadget in your hand.
“Of course, yeah,” Dustin replied.
“Woah, why are we talking about East Hawkins?” Steve stood up, taking a slow step towards you. He looked concerned and confused; a brutal combination. You gave him a look that immediately had his anxiety skyrocketing. “No…no! Absolutely not!”
You paused, you and Steve staring each other down as if you were about to have a shootout in an old western movie. Much like reaching for the draw, you slowly reached into your pocked, grabbing the contents before lifting your hand up and dangling Steve’s car keys in between you. His mouth gaped open, his mind not quick enough to process what was happening before you grabbed your backpack off a folding chair and bolted up the stairs.
Steve stood frozen for a second, in disbelief that any of this could really be real before darting after you. “Y/n! Y/n, come back here! I’m serious!”
It didn’t do much to stop you, seeing as you were already out the door quickly pacing towards the familiar BMW. “Y/n…Y/n! Seriously, I’m not fucking joking. I’m not driving you anywhere!” Steve shouted after you as he started to catch up.
“Steve, if you think I’m going to spend what might possibly be the last day of my fucking life in the armpit that is Mike Wheeler’s basement, then you’re out of your mind,” you shot back, still sauntering towards the car. If your life wasn’t in jeopardy, Steve would have thought it was hot; the swish of your hips, the way your hair bounced with each assertive step you took, the way your jeans hugged your ass. But now was not the time to get distracted.
“I don’t think you heard me, y/n. I’m not fucking driving you.”
“Oh I heard you loud and clear, Harrington. But if you won’t drive me, then I guess I’ll have to drive myself,” you said, unlocking the driver’s side door to Steve’s car.
“Um, fuck no!” Steve exclaimed, putting a hand on his car door to hold it shut as you attempted to open it. You whipped around, your eyes shooting daggers at your boyfriend. His face was mere inches away from yours as he leaned on his arm, his bodyweight keeping the door shut tight. You continued to stare into his eyes, your stern expression causing his to break as he sighed and relented, dropping his arm in exasperation. “Fine. But I’m driving.”
You tossed him the keys as you smirked, walking around the car as you eagerly hopped into the passenger seat.
“That was kind of wild,” Lucas mumbled to Dustin and Max who all stood dumbfounded by the encounter between the two of you.
“Yeah, she’s got him wrapped around her finger,” Max chuckled, “good for her.”
The three kids piled into the backseat of Steve’s car and Steve drove off after making sure everyone was appropriately buckled. The radio that was usually always on remained silent, no one really in the mood to listen to whatever overplayed tune was undoubtedly being broadcasted across your small town. You navigated, hesitant to tell Steve where you actually needed to go. You could tell he was nervous, his right hand reaching across the center console to squeeze your upper thigh, needing to hold onto you.
After you had spent a decent amount of time driving, you finally saw the sign you’d been looking for. “Turn here,” you spoke up, clearing your throat uncomfortably as you said it. Steve looked at you questioningly but followed your instructions, slowly turning into the Roane Hill Cemetery.
“I’ll just be a minute,” you assured Steve as you began to unbuckle to get out of the car. He gently grabbed your elbow, stopping your all fire hurry to exit the vehicle. “Steve—“
“Y/n, I get it. I just want you to know that I’m here for you, okay? We all are. You don’t have to go through this alone,” he spoke gently. You turned over your shoulder and saw the sincerity in everyone’s eyes.
“This,” you replied, looking out the car window up the small hill of the cemetery, “this is something I have to do alone.”
Steve nodded, giving your arm a gentle squeeze before letting go and looking at you with sympathy as you began making your way towards the clearing at the top of the hill. When you made it to the top, you took a deep breath as you read the name on the gravestone. Jim Hopper.
You hadn’t interacted much with Hawkins’ Chief of Police much before the Upside Down had entered your life. In fact, though you knew he was an effective cop, you wrote him off as an egotistical asshole, rolling your eyes at his usually irritating antics. However, after all that you had been through together, he became the kind of person you wanted to emulate. He did the best that he could to protect all of you kids. He would do anything to make sure you were all safe. He’d even given his life for it; the ultimate sacrifice.
He was truly a hero. But now he was gone, nothing left of him besides the grave in this cemetery and the memories in your heart. You felt guilt tear through your chest as you noticed that the flowers you had left the last time you came had began to wither and wilt.
“I don’t really know what to say,” you started off, tears beginning to well in your eyes. “I’m sorry that I couldn’t fix any of this. I’m sorry that I couldn’t keep the kids safe like I should’ve. I’m sorry that you can’t be there for El. I’m sorry that you didn’t get to see her grow up…that-that you don’t get to see her smile anymore. Every time I keep telling myself that all of this is over. I-I keep lying to myself and acting like everything is fine and that I’m happy and that everything is going to turn out alright, but I think deep down I know that it isn’t going to be.”
Tears began to stream down your face. “We all deserved to have these normal lives that we always pretend to have, you know? Those kids deserve to have normal lives. They shouldn’t have to worry about monsters underneath their feet and alternate dimensions that want to do them harm. They deserve to have the kind of lives that you wanted them to have, and I’m sorry I couldn’t make that happen Hopper. This all just feels like one big mistake…or-or a nightmare I can’t wake up from. And I feel guilty every time I look at Steve and my heart lets me feel lucky for even just a fraction of a second because if anything is true, we are not fucking lucky.”
You squeezed your eyes shut as you wiped your nose on the back of your sleeve, breathing in a shaky breath as you tried to fight the sobs that your body desperately needed to let out. You felt guilty admitting it, but the happiness in your relationship with Steve did scare you. You didn’t deserve to be happy; you were sure of it.
When you opened your eyes, your heart stopped in your chest. The clear skies that had been there once before were now overcast as fog poured around you into the cemetery. You heard distorted laughter that sounded like it came from nowhere and everywhere at the same time. A chill ran down your spine as you heard a voice ring out.
“Y/n.”
***
Steve looked up the hill towards you. You were still sitting in front of a gravestone and you looked okay enough, but Steve didn’t trust any of it. He had a bad feeling deep within his gut, and he began to unbuckle his seatbelt. “Alright, it’s been long enough.”
“Steve, just give her some time,” Max spoke up. She knew that you were going through some things and knew you needed the space.
“I have, alright Mayfield? I’m calling it. If she wants to be mad at me, she can be fucking mad at me,” he grumbled as he slammed the car door shut, making his way up the hill. Cemeteries always made him feel uneasy, but he was confident that the pit in his stomach was unrelated as he swiftly jogged up the hill towards you.
“Y/n, baby? It’s time to go, alright? I know it’s hard, but we really need to get—“ Steve’s words died on his tongue as he saw you sitting there, unresponsive. Your eyes were rolled in the back of your head and blood began dripping down your nose.
“Y/n? Y/n! No, no, no, baby wake up! Wake up, y/n, you’re scaring me,” Steve’s words were short and shaky as he quickly went to wipe your nose, his first instinct being to take care of you. “Guys!”
Steve yelled down the hill and the three kids came running. Steve continued to shake you, watching as your body jolted around but you stayed catatonic, somewhere else in the moment, no doubt in some terror filled nightmare. A far off whimper escaped your lips and if Steve wasn’t already losing it, he would’ve lost it right then and there.
“Y/n! Please wake up!” Max shouted, snapping in front of your eyes, hoping it would draw them forward and alert, but they stayed rolled back in your head, eyelids twitching and fluttering.
“Come on, y/n. Get out of there!” Lucas yelled, beginning to shake your shoulders too. Steve turned towards Dustin, grabbing him by the collar of his shirt.
“Call Nancy and Robin! Just go! Call Nancy and Robin!” He shoved the boy, and he fell backwards, tumbling over as he scrambled to make his way back to the car. He had never seen Steve so desperate before and they had been through a lot together. Dustin felt his blood run cold. This was life or death.
“Y/n, come on baby. I love you, please come back to me!” Steve cried out, squeezing your hand in his, hoping that wherever you were that you could hear him somehow. “Think of all the things we haven’t gotten to do together yet…I mean, we-we have a whole life ahead of us! I want to do it all with you, but you have to come back to me.”
His voice cracked, and when you didn’t respond he began shaking your shoulders again, feeling sick to his stomach at the way your head lolled in every which way, your neck unable to support the weight of it. Your nose continued to bleed and your limbs were twitching. He could see your neck straining and it reminded him of the way you looked as you tried to breathe through a panic attack.
“Y/n! You gotta get out of there!” Lucas shouted.
“Y/n! Please! You’ve got this, come on!” Max chimed in.
Dustin finally came bounding up the hill, dropping Max’s walkman and a bunch of cassettes in front of them that he had dug out of Steve’s glovebox. “Steve! What’s her favorite song?!”
“Why?” Lucas asked, panic radiating from his voice.
“It’s too much to explain right now! What’s her favorite song?!” Dustin screamed.
Steve didn’t need to be told twice, rifling through the tapes until he found the one with a label and his shitty handwriting on it. His hands were shaking as he fumbled the cassette, shoving it into the walkman before quickly and haphazardly placing the headphones over your ears. His hands trailed to either side of your face as he looked at you, his eyes frantically searching your face, hoping that whatever fix Dustin seemed to think he found would be instantaneous.
The cassette tape had all of the songs you guys would belt out in the car when they played on the radio. He loved hearing you sing off key to the songs and the way you’d dance in the passenger seat making faces to fit the lyrics of the songs. He had finally decided he couldn’t wait around for the radio to play all of your favorites, desperately wanting to watch you dance every time he had a chance to, so he made you a mixtape with all your favorites. He was saving it to give you for your first anniversary, which was now four months away. But after all, in this situation, it was either early or never, so he pressed play and Running up that Hill by Kate Bush began to blare through the headphones.
It had been a second and nothing was happening. Your eyes were still rolled in the back of your head and you were still twitching. “It’s not working Dustin!” Steve shouted, his hands falling from your face as he turned towards the Henderson boy. No sooner had he lost contact with you did your body begin to lift off of the ground, your legs coming uncrossed as you levitated out of reach from your friends down below.
“No! Y/n!” Steve shouted. He wished he hadn’t let you go. Maybe if he hadn’t he could have kept whatever was about to happen from happening. He thought back to all of the horrors Eddie had described and he began to hyperventilate. He couldn’t watch that happen to you. You were his everything.
In your nightmare, you were tied up by vines, pressed against some sort of pillar staring straight at Vecna. He kept insisting you belonged there, reminding you of how much danger you put the kids in. You deserved to stay here in this dark and dreary hellscape. You had seen Chrissy and Fred and you felt like you could vomit thinking about your body being contorted in the same way.
“Let me go!” You choked out, hardly able to speak with the vine around your throat cutting off your access to oxygen. Suddenly you heard something familiar as a melody drifted towards your ears, building slowly in the background until the music swelled and nearly became all that you could hear. You turned ever so slightly to your left and saw a glimpse into the real world. Your heart stopped as you watched your boyfriend desperately calling your name, your body hovering several feet above his head.
“They can’t help you, y/n,” Vecna assured you, his crooked hand coming up towards your face.
“You’re wrong,” you choked out and suddenly the vine behind you snapped and you fell forward, breaking out into a sprint towards the tunnel of reality just out of reach. You tried to keep your footing, but you slipped several times on thick red pools of blood, the sticky liquid soaking into your clothes. You tried to ignore it as you continued to sprint. Your legs kept wanting to give up, but you just kept thinking about all you had left to live for and channeled that into your sprint.
You thought about Steve and the life you wanted to build together. You thought about the way you knocked on his door that fateful day. You thought about the way he let you in even though he didn’t have to; the way he changed for you, the way he tried every day to be better for you. You thought about the jokes he told that made you laugh so hard you cried and the way he’d carry you up the stairs when you fell asleep on the couch. You thought about the kisses he’d pepper across your skin whenever he had the chance to. You thought about the way you felt when you were wrapped up in him the night before and how you didn’t want your first time to be the last time. You thought about the way his brown eyes stared into yours, the way they said so much without him ever having to open his mouth.
You were going to look into those eyes again. So you sprinted. Past falling debris, through rough terrain, and towards him.
Towards home.
Your eyes peeled open and you gasped, staring at the tree line in a way you’d never seen it before. Your stomach dropped as you began falling to the ground, plummeting back towards earth. You hit the ground hard, and you were hyperventilating as everyone immediately surrounded you. Steve pushed past the kids and wrapped his arms around you, clinging to you as if you’d disappear again.
“Y/n! I thought I lost you!” Steve cried out as he placed a frantic kiss against your lips. He pulled back to look at you for a second, fear and panic across his face before he leaned in and kissed you again. You were his oxygen and he needed you to breathe right now.
You pulled away, gripping his bicep as you attempted to calm down your breathing. “I’m still…I’m still here,” you reassured him, tears falling from your eyes.
He was quick to wipe them away before he buried his face in your neck, taking a deep breath as he reveled in the comfort of your familiar scent. He placed a gentle kiss against your neck and pulled you towards him even tighter.
You were still here, and he wasn’t going to let anything like that happen ever again.
***
You all had spent the night at the Wheelers’ again, deciding now more than ever it was vital to stick together. Nancy had had to fight Steve to get him to sleep, convincing him that the rest of you were more than capable of taking turns watching you to make sure that you were okay.
“Dustin…Earth to Dustin,” Eddie’s voice rang out over the walkie talkie. Steve groaned as he woke up. He was sore from the way that his body was positioned in the chair he had been sleeping in. He grabbed the walkie off of the coffee table, pressing down the button to speak into it.
“What the fuck do you want Munson?” Steve spat.
“Oh, Harrington. Um, I’m going to need a food delivery, unless you want me going out into the world.”
“Don’t fucking do that. Just stay where you are and we’ll be there as soon as we can” Steve grumbled, sighing as he aggressively went to set the walkie back down, but Eddie’s voice rang out again.
“Hey, can you pick me up a six-pack? I know it’s dumb to be drinking right now, but a cold beer would really cool my nerves you know?”
As Eddie said it, Steve rolled his eyes, turning back towards the couch you were sleeping on, needing to remind himself of your constant kindness to calm himself down. It had the opposite effect when he saw the empty space, you being nowhere to be found.
“I’m gonna have to call you back,” Steve quickly relayed to Eddie before dropping the walkie talkie and bounding across the basement to wake up Dustin. “Dipshit! What the fuck?! You’re supposed to be watching y/n!” Steve spat as the boy finally opened his eyes.
“Yeah…yeah, yeah, yeah.”
“Where the fuck is she?!”
“She’s right there,” Dustin started, but his heart dropped as he looked over and saw that you were gone, “she was right there a second ago. I just dozed off for…an hour.”
His eyes got wide as he looked at his watch and the two boys bounded up the stairs. Steve finally cooled off when he saw you sitting at the kitchen table with Holly. You were helping her color a coloring book page, stopping every once in a while to help her cut her pancake. Steve felt his heart skip at how domestic and maternal you looked, hoping you would all get past this so that he could have the future with you that he envisioned, with perfect little combinations of the two of you sitting at your own kitchen table.
“Everything okay?” Mrs. Wheeler asked. Steve just nodded making his way towards the kitchen table. Nancy had woken up when the boys had not so quietly ascended the stairs and she was rubbing her eyes as she also made her way to the kitchen.
“I think it’s so sweet that you guys are sticking together like this,” Mrs. Wheeler continued, pulling Nancy into a very stiff and awkward side hug that she did not reciprocate.
“You could try sticking together at a different house for a change,” Mr. Wheeler chimed in, not even looking up from his newspaper.
“Hey, are you okay?” Steve asked, sitting down next to you, his hand going to the small of your back.
“Yeah,” you gave him a weak smile. “It’s just kind of hard to sleep after…everything.” You chose your words carefully so as to not let Nancy’s parents in on the reality of the absurdity that was your life. “But Holly let me borrow some of her crayons and we’ve been having a fun morning.”
You smiled at the small girl and Steve felt his heart explode. Nancy stood next to you and spoke up. “Is this what you saw last night? Do you think he’s just trying to scare you?”
“Yeah, but this stuff is different,” you said, gesturing to the drawings in front of you. “I don’t think he wanted me to see any of this.”
“Maybe you invaded his mind,” Dustin suggested, “I mean, that’s what he’s been doing to you, is it that big of leap to suggest that somehow you wound up in his?”
“Yeah, maybe the answer’s somewhere in this incredibly…vague drawing,” Steve added on, holding up a piece of paper and rotating it. “Damn, we need Will.”
“I know, but I tried them again this morning and it’s the same busy signal,” you replied, putting your head in your hands.
Nancy suddenly started reorganizing the papers, folding them and overlapping them until they made an image that made some semblance of sense.
“It’s…it’s a house,” you spoke breathlessly. You weren’t sure how you had managed to draw a deconstructed house considering you weren’t even close to being an artist, but hey accidental accomplishments are accomplishments nonetheless.
“Not just any house,” Nancy looked at you wide eyed. “It’s Victor Creel’s house.”
You shuddered as Nancy and Dustin quickly moved downstairs to tell the others about their discovery. You got up and moved the other way towards the Wheelers’ family room, desperately needing to remove yourself from the oblivious remainder of the Wheelers that were in the kitchen. Steve quickly followed you, gently grabbing your hand as he spoke up.
“Hey, baby…what’s wrong?”
“Steve, I just don’t have a good feeling about this,” anxiety was etched across your face as you said it. He squeezed your hand and pulled you towards him.
“I know, y/n. But answers are good…that means we’re getting somewhere,” he reminded you.
“But that’s the thing,” you started, “just because we’re getting somewhere doesn’t mean it’s anywhere good. Vecna’s smart, he knows what he’s doing. I mean, what….what-what if we’re walking into a trap! What if this is exactly what he wants us to do? We can’t keep just following every thread he gives us. He’s weaving a web, Steve. And if we’re not careful, we’re all going to end up getting caught in it.”
“We have to try though, right? We can’t just give up or else we’re putting everyone—not just us—everyone in jeopardy,” he tried to appeal to your selflessness and world-saving tendencies, but really deep down, he only wanted to follow this thread because it meant they had a shot at saving you.
He dropped your hand, holding his up between the two of you, and you were met with the familiar sight of his extended pinky.
“To saving the world?” He asked, a smirk playing at the corners of his mouth. Your face relaxed for a moment, your lips breaking into a small smile.
“To saving the world,” you agreed as you wrapped your pinky around his before leaning in and placing a gentle kiss to his lips.
You didn’t like where this was headed, but you could at least give it your best shot. If it meant that you and Steve could have more pinky promises and more soft kisses, then it would be worth it.
You just hoped that it wouldn’t ruin you in the process.
***
a/n: I hope y’all enjoyed the chapter. Reblog to give me a much needed boost of serotonin ;)
taglist:
@season4steve @sassyheroneckgiant @tangledinthegreatxscape @maeve-wileyy @palachannie @chaerfull @usaguisenpaisblog @emilieluckwood @sabrinadelreyy @mochminnie @xprloki @kitdjarin1 @kissmxcheek @daemonskitty @bethsvrse @aheadfullofsteverogers @quinnsadilla @chervbs @sheisjoeschateau @goosy-goose
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sunmoonjune · 2 years
Text
storm clouds at midnight
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pairing: poly!ot8 stray kids x fem!reader [werewolf! au]
warnings: minors dni!! extremely suggestive themes!! there is no explicit smut, cursing, but it’s probably the closest to smut I’ve written, predator/prey, chasing, suggestive content is 100% consensual by all parties, vampires are assholes, fear, blood, biting, minor mentions of reader not liking their body (no reference to size/shape), the boys are dirty-minded, a lot of teasing, dirty talk, a little choking, sub!reader, seriously this is probably mostly definitely smut so minors dniI!! there are member x member relationships in this
word count: 26.3k (ok I know I’m insane)
a/n: ok,,, listen I was supposed to write like four other things and not this... but maxident came out and I've been in my skz feels sooo this is the result. also yes! this is in the same universe as dewdrops at dawn (two different places with two different views of the supernatural) also,,, I am physically incapable of writing non-soulmate au’s it seems 
again, this work is considered as suggestive, please do not interact if you are a minor. 
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You knew the wolves were there from the moment you moved in. 
Even despite the little power you possessed, you could recognize the enchanting magical aura that lingered in the depths of the dark forest. Without a doubt in your mind, you knew that werewolves resided in the trees beyond your home. In the small clearing at the edge of the woodside town, you could feel the surge of power that marked the boundary of their territory. Despite lacking the keen senses of their kind, you can still feel the border flicker with their strength when you toe the line. 
The night after you first moved into the little cabin on the borders of town, your entire being could sense the moment the wolves descended on your new home. 
Eight forms hid in the darkness of the trees – keeping their bodies shadowed under the cover of night. You could feel their aura and their magic as they investigated your presence. They were scanning for trouble - that you could tell. As a witch, moving into the borders of their territory was bound to draw suspicion. 
Though you lacked immense quantities of magic, you still had the thrum in your veins and the swell in your chest that indicated your link to the supernatural. A witch was a witch, through and through - no matter how much magic they possessed. Despite the disdain of your spellbinding kin, the comfort of the sentiment allowed you to continue practicing using little magic you possessed. 
It’s long after midnight when you feel the auras descend upon your clearing. Eight werewolves, their strength and power undeniable as they linger on their own border. You can almost feel their eyes flickering over your body as they scan your small home. Their sharp pupils leave no belonging untouched. Each of your possessions is investigated for magical inclination. Despite the foreboding indication of their pack’s fortitude, there was some lingering sense of excitement when you felt their eyes on your form. 
You could not blame their caution. When another supernatural being moves into the borders of their territory, it was more than justifiable to investigate their prowess. However, it was not their discretion that caught your attention. 
Something fizzled in the air between you and the wolves, simmering as if connecting your emotions to the pack. It sets your body alight - every inch of your skin flickering with heat and your nerves humming with a warmth you could not place. In some way you did not yet understand, you were connected to this wolfish pack. 
Setting aside some fauna and other potion ingredients to be stored, you felt goosebumps prick under your skin when their gaze turned to your form. It was not an unpleasant feeling; rather one of unbridled curiosity. The notion of their eyes on your skin made you tremble with waves of both excitement and nervousness. They collided with each other in a storm of untapped emotion, and you vaguely wondered why the wolves’ presence made you react so strongly. 
When you carefully made your way out your back door, your slow steps were indicated by the crackle of leaves beneath your feet and the magical thrum in the air. You could feel the wolves’ apprehension in the way their own aura fidgeted, but you continued into your garden nevertheless. Under their direct gazes, something in your body hummed with delight. It was a little strange, and a more sensible part of yourself questioned the feeling. However, the magical pull overpowered that observation, and you found yourself peering into the woods - hoping to catch a glimpse of the wolves that caught your attention. 
They kept themselves well hidden. Your human eyes could not see as well as them in the dark, and you were left without a grasp of their forms. A lingering sensation of disappointment settled in your stomach, your lower lip pulling into your teeth in a pout at the feeling. 
The notion did not bother you as you understood their apprehension towards you, even despite whatever lingered in the air between you. With your limited ability, you pulled gently on the magical connection with your power. It simmered pleasantly between you, like a string that could not be severed. Pulled tight by the grasp of your magic, you felt your body shiver when one of the wolves responded with a deep growl. 
It was not a threatening sound - not necessarily. The sound rippled through the atmosphere with an air of warning. The leader of the pack was not comfortable with you messing around with magic upon your first meeting. The sensation rippled through your body and you felt your chest shake with his power. 
Holding your hands up with your palms out, you hummed quietly with apology. You had no intention of angering the wolves, simply wanting to understand the sensation that seemed to pull you closer. The sound seems to soothe the tension, hackles slowly lowering and magic softening in the air around you. 
From beneath the depths of the dark, wooden thicket, the pack leader stood strongly in front of his seven pack members. Chan had led his partners to the borders of their territory upon feeling the magical thrum of a witch in the air. He could sense the change in the atmosphere when you had arrived in their little town. Even without the bond that simmered between you and the eight wolves, Chan was exceptionally adept at deciphering the magical aura of supernatural creatures - a skill that came with being the Alpha of his pack. 
The shining silver of his wolfish coat was difficult to keep hidden under the moonlight, but Chan was careful. From behind the trees, he and his partners could easily investigate the homely wooden cottage the new witch had sequestered. 
His chest hummed with a pleasant feeling, one he knew connected him to the same witch they had come to examine. Though difficult, he buried it deep in his chest. There would be time to explore the connection later. 
“Careful, Jinnie,” his voice echoed through the link connecting each of the wolves. He addressed the dark form of Hyunjin, who had broken the line of his partners behind him. Though he kept low to the ground, Hyunjin had crept forward, seemingly very interested in the witch whose magic thrummed in the air around them. 
The dark fur of Hyunjin rippled under the alabaster shine of the moon, illuminating the pure muscle of his form. Hyunjin was one of the largest of their pack; his ebony coat standing tall over the bodies of his partners. He huffed at his leader’s call, seeming to shiver as another pulse echoed down the new connection between the wolves and you. 
Sending Chan a remarkably longing look for a wolf, Hyunjin backed away from the edge of the forest. He settles beside Felix, the younger shifting to rest his weight against his lover. The lighter brown color of Felix stood out against Hyunjin, and the darker wolf dropped his head to brush his nose against Felix’s muzzle. Inhaling a wave of his partner’s scent, Hyunjin relaxed some of his tensed muscles. Feeling some of the enticing turmoil seep from his form, Hyunjin let some of his own weight settle against Felix, knowing the younger savors any affection his lovers adore to provide. 
“She smells s’good, Hyung,” Jeongin, the youngest of the pack, rumbles. He stands at the rear beside Seungmin, both wolves a dark walnut color. Though they’re close, the elder of the two werewolves is less inclined to treasure affection. Seungmin leans away from the typical touch that his mates seem to adore. However, Chan and the others have known the wolf far too long to know that Seungmin only pretends to hate physical affection. He may whine when Chan wraps his body around him, but the eldest can feel the way Seungmin sinks into his form and how the bond between them warms. 
Chan’s only response to Jeongin is another hum. 
The silver wolf is too busy scanning your body, from where you have stepped out of your house to approach the tree line. Chan can tell that you know he and his partners are there. The bond wavers between you and Chan has to resist the pleasant shiver that thrums through him. Some of the others are unable to fight back the feeling, and Chan can feel Felix and Han’s excitement spike from their connection. 
The eight wolves stand at the ready. With your form slowly approaching the woods, another thrum of excitement echoes down both ends of the bond and this time it’s Minho that has to resist stepping forward. Whatever connection lingers between you is strong. The combination of your sweet scent and the magical connection is beginning to drive Minho mad. He swears he can almost feel the touch of your skin on his own despite the distance that separates you. 
As second-in-command, Minho stands at Chan’s side. The two are tense, but not out of apprehension – it seems all eight of the wolves are feeling the same thrum from your bond. 
At the edge of your yard, you slow to a stop. In the chilly night air, you rub your hands together for a little warmth, but find that whatever magic simmers in the air has kept you quite hot. Shifting on your feet, you attempt to find the eyes of any of the wolves that you can sense in front of you. 
You keep at least twenty yards between you and the wolves. Despite whatever connection you may have, you do not know how they will react if you approach closer. They are cautious of your magic - you can tell. Most supernatural creatures are. Though the notion saddens you, you can understand the apprehension; witches are typically solitary beings who don’t mix well with other supernatural creatures. 
Unable to find the irises of one of the wolves, you sigh and shift your own pupils to the floor beneath your feet. You mull over a few options in your head, attempting to find a solution. You want to show the wolves that you don’t mean any harm - that you’re more than willing to explore this newfound bond that seems to simmer in the air like it’s own magic. 
When an idea strikes you, you’re almost embarrassed to consider it. Heat rises to your skin and you feel a pulse of something hum in the air. 
Shifting on your feet, you lower your body a fraction in an attempt to appear smaller. Inclining your head, you tilt your chin to expose the skin of your bare neck: a show of submission. It’s awkward, but if you want to appeal to the wolves, you may as well act like one, you suppose. 
You feel a little odd as you stand, but after a solitary moment, the pleasant growl in response makes your knees weak. The sound seems to combine with a wave of heat and excitement that rolls through your body. Without even seeing the wolves with your own eyes, they seem to have a grip on both your mind and  body that you cannot fathom. 
From behind the trees, Chan has taken a step forward. At your show of submission, the pack leader cannot help the shiver of pride that echoes through him. Heat fills his form at the act, and the growl escapes his chest before he can stop it. He longs to break from the tree line. Every fiber in his being wants to step out and feel the skin of your form beneath his fingers. With your neck inclined towards him, proudly showing him the skin of your jugular, Chan’s fangs seem to press tight against his gums. They ache to sink into your skin – to mark you as his own, just as he has marked his partners, who stand at his side. It’s a little strange, as this is your first meeting, but Chan supposes the mating bond has something to do with it. He did, after all, mark Minho after their first meeting. 
Despite the heat that simmers under his skin, Minho can’t resist the chuckle that bursts forth at his Alpha’s reaction. Your show has affected their leader the most, as he is the head of the pack. Though he still feels the same pride and longing that fills Chan’s chest, it’s of a lesser degree and Minho can control the arousal that heats in his chest. 
“Careful, Chan-hyung,” Hyunjin playfully teases, throwing his leader’s previous words back at him. The intense aura of Chan’s emotions thrum in the bond between the pack, enticing all eight of the wolves to their Alpha’s dominance.
Turning to his partner, Chan snaps his jaws teasingly at the younger. Though the action is violent, Chan is careful not to harm any of his lovers with his sharp teeth - even when his dominance is questioned. 
“Shut it, Hyunjin. Or s’you I’ll sink my teeth into.” 
At his side, Minho and Changbin huff in silent laughter, enjoying the commotion at Hyunjin and their leader’s expense. Hyunjin is not affected by Chan’s threat, seeming to purr at the response. He steps forward with his head held high and sets his sights on his eldest lover. 
“Promise?” Hyunjin’s coo answers. 
He sends a flirtatious bolt of arousal down the bond he shares with Chan, feeling his entire body shiver pleasantly when his pack leader responds with a salacious look and a short, tempered growl. Chan’s response insights a promise - one he’s sure to fulfill when they return home. 
The other pack members huff good-naturedly, feeling the sweet effects of their partner’s banter warm their own chests. Minho enjoys watching Chan struggle with the emotions that simmer under his skin. Of course, it’s not in an antagonizing manner. Minho simply finds delight in challenging his pack leader's dominance – not in terms of pack order, but in more indecent manners. It’s always a battle between the two eldest wolves, and it’s usually difficult to determine who’s on the winning side. They both enjoy the thrill that comes with the frisky bickering. 
Changbin is the one to shift their attention. His eyes have not left your body, his senses trained pointedly on you. He’s laser-focused, analyzing each curve of your form and delighting in the way his wolf shivers at your scent. Darkened irises track your movement, inhaling a deep wave of your warm scent and enjoying the way his muscles relax when it wraps around his senses. 
“What do we do, Hyung?” his voice fills their heads. Shifting on his paws, Changbin itches to lunge into the clearing and claim you for his own. He promises he’ll share you, eventually – his other mates can wait their turn. 
Jisung trots up to Hyunjin’s flank, occupying the space on the opposite side of Felix. There’s a little tension between them – some sort of never ending love-rivalry making the two boys constant competitors. The younger chestnut colored wolf nudges Hyunjin with his shoulder. Hyunjin responds with a playful snap, already understanding what his younger partner is thinking. Jisung enjoys a chase as much as he enjoys competition, and Hyunjin knows he’s ready for both. 
Chan turns his focus back to your body. You’ve raised your head from its position, unsure of the wolves’ reaction. There’s a furrow in your brow and your lower lip is pulled into your teeth. You look apprehensive, as if their reaction is unclear. 
Standing tall and holding his head high, Chan lets his muscles relax from their tensed position. The heat still burns beneath his skin and a longing ache settles into his chest, but Chan knows it’s too early to pursue you as he and the others wish. You’re not wolfish as they are. 
If he and the others step out of the thicket of the trees, Chan fears they’ll scare you off. The courting customs of wolves are much different from humans - even if they are supernatural creatures of their own. If Chan is right - as he usually is - you may have an inkling of the bond, and that thought is enough to comfort him for now. 
For the meantime, Chan can only savor the waves of your scent as they reach him and his partners. It will be difficult to pull the others away, but Chan knows he can turn them towards each other to cope with the new yearning feeling that has settled in their chests. 
As he watches your hands drop to your sides with a wary look, a throb pangs in his chest. Heart surging beneath his ribs, Chan aches to make you smile once again. The apprehension on your face makes you look sad, and the expression makes him ache. 
Stepping forward with determination, Chan’s silver coat shines under the moonlight as he takes a single step towards the tree line. Felix yips once, a sound of mild concern for his eldest partner. Chan comforts his younger with a bolt of warmth down their bond, rumbling a purr to sate the sandy colored wolf. 
From across the yard, the gnawing feeling of trepidation sinks into your stomach. Despite the single sound from the pack leader and the wave of heat, you receive no other response from the wolves. The silence settles into the air and you begin to wonder if you’ve made a mistake. Your stomach twists as the moments of unsettling quiet sink into your mind. 
Then, you feel waves of warmth sink into you. A comforting blanket of affection sinks into your chest and your muscles melt into mush under the weight of the feeling. Your chest fills with delight and you nearly hum with the warmth heating you from the inside. The magic thrums in the air again, and you can tell the feeling was sent from the wolves. The sentiment strikes you with reassurance. 
In the darkness of the trees, you raise your eyes to the thicket of branches and greenery that bar your sight of the pack. Their magical aura still hums strongly, and you know all eight of the wolves still sit just behind the fauna, watching you. With the comfort from the pack leader, you raise your eyes to the dense woodland. Feeling sweet affection buzz under your skin, your irises scan the trees and feel a bolt of surprise strike you.
Behind the towering, coniferous trees, you catch a flash of silver. 
Shifting your gaze, you raise your sight to follow the shining color. Excitement fills your chest, settling atop the warm affection the wolves have given you. Then, from the darkness you catch a single, fleeting flash of onyx. 
Chan steps forward just enough. The alabaster moonlight illuminates just enough of his eyes and silver fur for you to set your sights on the barest glimpse of his darkened irises – his own act of reassurance. 
Your breath seems to leave your chest at the sight. You can’t see more than a single iris and the tiniest peek of glimmering fur, but it’s more than enough to leave you speechless. The glimpse, though short, is a message of the pack leader’s own. As he steps back into the trees, letting the darkness submerge his form once more, you understand. 
The pack leader has accepted you. 
You may not understand the waves of heat that suddenly fill your being, but their presence is a comfort you did not know you craved. Something in the air between you and the eight wolves hums violently and you find yourself reveling in its warmth. The longing surges with excitement, and you know the pack leader has incited a new challenge. You know enough about wolves and their customs to understand what will follow. 
It lingers in the atmosphere between you and the wolves and you nearly shiver with the thrill of this new adventure. 
The chase is on. 
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Hyunjin and Jisung are the first. 
Three days after your first meeting, with the excited heat still warm in your chest, you venture into the wolves’ territory. Potions set aside for the evening, orders packed and cafe closed, you finally give into the yearning that has thrummed under your skin since that night. You could only take so much of the heat before you knew you would succumb to it.  
You don’t venture far into the woodlands, just a few hundred yards of dense trees lie between you and your little cottage. The air smells of coniferous pines and towering oaks. The chilly air settles into your lungs and you savor the clean scent. It feels freeing to explore the forest in the dark. All traces of apprehension and fear are wiped away with the presence of the wolves. This is their territory; you know you are safe as long as you remain inside their borders. 
Treading gracefully through the roots of trees and fallen pine cones, your thoughts are swept away by the rising excitement that begins to surge in your mind. You know the consequences that will follow your actions. 
You step into wolf territory, you are bound to be pursued. 
The thought is not frightening, but rather tantalizing. You are more than delighted to discover which of the eight wolves will come after you. With the enchanting bond that has settled between you and the pack, you know they would not hurt you for entering their territory. In fact, you know the consequences for your intrusion would be more enticing. 
The thought makes you shiver in delight. 
You understand that the wolves have marked you. There is no physical stain, but you know they have imprinted something to claim you for themselves. The bond is reciprocated, and you welcome the thought of the connection between you and the wolves. The thought of developing the relationship between you is exciting, and you want to see where it takes you. 
They wouldn't pursue you outside their own territory, you have learned. In the three days after your first meeting, they would never venture beyond their own borders. Every night, at least two wolves would settle at the tree line - waiting for something you did not understand. Sometimes they paced, impatient in their silence. On other nights, they stood solitary and quiet, keeping their eyes trained to your cottage as they waited for something – something you did not yet understand. 
On the third day, you finally deciphered their motive. 
The werewolves were not able to follow you outside their borders. Beyond the bounds of their territory, they were unable to shift into their wolfish forms, tied to the laws of the supernatural town in which you resided. Though it was occupied by more mythical beings than ordinary humans, there were still regulations in place to obscure the reality of supernatural creatures. They could not shift in front of humans. Outside their lands, they could not pursue you as they wanted, restricted by the laws of the land. In addition, despite the challenge incited by their pack leader, the wolves were courteous. They would wait for your acceptance before they started the chase.
So instead, they waited for you. 
When you ventured into the bounds of their land, you finally welcomed the unspoken challenge: they could have you if they could catch you. 
The chase incited a thrill, and you were excited to finally begin this new adventure. Aroused tension settled in your chest, and you buzzed with elation. Heat simmered between your thighs as you thought of what would occur should they catch you. Feeling your skin warm with embarrassed excitement, you shivered as you thought of the possibilities. 
You felt a little odd when you thought too hard about the situation, but something about the magical bond between you and the pack and the delight of a new adventure made you want to give into the primal urges. With the promise of something new, you felt an unexplained urge to pursue this new relationship as the wolves would. You wanted to explore their mating customs as much as your own, and the new discoveries made you buzz with heat. 
As you settled into a small clearing a few hundred yards from the one you resided, you slowed to a stop and scanned your surroundings. Magic thrummed in the air, and you knew the wolves were well aware of your presence. Regardless of the distance between you, you could feel traces of their emotions as if they were your own. 
It’s only a few moments later you feel the magical aura of two wolves. 
Hyunjin and Jisung were on border patrol that evening. 
They had been scouting the bounds of their territory as usual. Keeping an eye out for any changes and any new threats to enter their land, they walked with purpose and strength. Jisung, though still vigilant, was messing around as usual. The younger was inclined to teasing and playing around with his partners to reduce tension and fill the silence. 
When they’d first met, Hyunjin and Jisung had not been on good terms, and the younger’s playful nature had irritated Hyunjin. However, years of courting later, it was now one of the aspects Hyunjin treasured most. Though he fed into the playful rivalry, often butting heads with his younger partner, it was all in good fun. 
Jisung bumps purposefully into Hyunjin again, laughing with a yip when Hyunjin attempts to sink his teeth into the chestnut wolf’s neck in retaliation. It was difficult to not give into primal instincts when they messed around in wolf form. The urge to establish his dominance was strong, and Hyunjin almost nearly gave into temptation. He wanted to sink his teeth into his lover’s muzzle and stand over him with his strength and dominance surging beneath his skin. 
However, they were on duty. There were more important matters to attend to than sating their desires. 
“Hannie” Hyunjin playfully warned, the domineering sound echoing through the bond. 
The sound only made Jisung more excited. It always started the same. Jisung would tease Hyunjin until he snapped, and the two would give into the grasp of a carnal rivalry to sort their differences. 
Jisung hummed through their connection. He was still vigilant, keeping his senses turned to their borders as he should, but the excitement of his partner still pushed against the forefront of his mind. 
“What are you going to do, Hyung?” Jisung playfully taunted, stepping away from Hyunjin as his teeth attempted to close in on his scruff. “Aha! You missed!” 
It’s almost comical to watch Hyunjin’s wolf form roll his eyes. 
Continuing their patrol with Jisung’s taunts, a subtle whiff of scent stops Hyunjin in his tracks. The smell filters through his senses and the darker wolf is frozen still with his heart stuttering. 
“Hyunjin?” 
Jisung stops aside his lover, not understanding his sudden halt. He drops his nose to the dirt, smelling for whatever has startled his partner. Suddenly a little apprehensive, Jisung drops the teasing mood to shift into a ready stance. He inhales a wave of pine trees and traces of woodland creatures, filtering through the scents to find whatever has halted his lover. 
Then, Jisung finds it. 
Your scent filters into his senses and Jisung feels his body tense. Muscles tightening with preparation, the chestnut wolf understands Hyunjin’s halt. The excitement slowly filters into his mind, filling the bond between him and Hyunjin, 
You’ve accepted the challenge. 
They’re now free to pursue you as they wish. 
Hyunjin feels his stomach swell with a wave of salacious thrill. Your scent filters through his head and Hyunjin swears he’s never smelled anything more tantalizing. It’s as if you were teasing him with whiffs of your scent, enticing him and his partners to the chase. Hyunjin feels his body shake with the thought and his knees are weak with that weight of the bond. 
“Hannie,” Hyunjin murmurs, voice dripping with purring lust. “Are you thinking what I’m thinking?” 
He turns his head to face his lover, both their irises darkened with excitement. Bodies filled with the thrill that comes with a chase, Hyunjin feels a smirk pull at his lips. Jisung returns a similar look, sending a bolt of salacious heat down their own bond to make Hyunjin melt. Enjoying that look on his partner’s face, Jisung returns the sentiment. 
“First to catch her wins,” Jisung coos, feeling heat envelop him. “Last has to watch.” 
Hyunjin takes off first. 
Dirt kicks up from his feet, his muscles pumping as he follows your scent through the woods. Jisung is hot at his heels, an excited growl pushing from his chest as the thrill of the chase fills his mind. Giving into the desire that surges in the more primal part of his brain, Jisung feels the urge to howl to the darkened sky with excitement. 
Hyunjin feels his heart pump, hammering in his chest as his senses hone onto your scent. The delight seeps into the bond, and he wonders if you can feel their primal hunger from your position ahead. With his mind solely focused on pursuing you, Hyunjin’s consciousness filters through the thoughts of what he wants to do with you once he catches you. He feels the need push harder against his chest and his stomach turns with a heat. 
“Keep those thoughts to yourself, Jinnie,” Jisung warns with an informal tone, playfully mocking his elder. Hyunjin’s indecent thoughts subconsciously drift from his mind to his partner’s, his arousal warping his control of their connection. “After all, you’ll be the one watching when I fuck her.” 
Jisung’s words taunt Hyunjin, and the elder manages a gruff sound as he kicks up his pace. 
“As if!” 
Hyunjin’s head knocks back as he sprints through the thicket of trees, a primal howl leaving his lips as he pursues your scent. The sound is chilling, echoing through the forest and alerting the rest of his pack of the start of a pursuit. He feels the lingering excitement of the rest of his pack at the edges of his mind – their curiosity spiking as they sense the chase that has begun. However, Hyunjin doesn’t have the focus to think of their reactions, mind solely concentrated on being the first to reach you. 
Jisung is on his heels - literally. The younger attempts to cut his elder off at the ankles, playfully trying to take Hyunjin out of the race. The promise of being the first to sink his teeth into you is a notion that skews his mind and entices him to play dirty, Hyunjin dodges his attempt and a feral sound escapes Jisung’s lungs. 
Far ahead, your quiet night is startled at the sound of a wolfish howl breaking the silence. The alluring sound sends shivers down your spine as you feel several emotions strike you through the magical bond between you and the pack. Waves of heat filter through you and the thrill sinks into you with your stomach turning with a salacious thought. They’ve locked in on your scent.
The howl was a warning – the chase has started. 
You don’t know which wolves have been the first to feel your presence, but you can isolate their feelings in the connection from the others. The heat is easy to separate from the other six wolves, and you find yourself attempting to send a bolt of heat down the connection to entice them.
‘Come and get me.’
It must work, as another chilling howl breaks through the air. 
Shifting on your feet, you move quickly. They may be far away now, but the wolves move far faster than you. You know they’ll be on you in no time. 
Turning back the way you came, you take off on the balls of your feet. With your heart hammering with both the race and the excitement of the chase, you push yourself as fast as you can. Feeling the chilly night air fill your lungs with a startling cold, you break into a smile. Laughing freely, you leap over a broken tree branch as the heat in your chest swells. 
It’s only been a few moments, but you can nearly hear the thundering sound of their footsteps hitting the earth. They’re closer than before, catching up quickly as the prospect of your teasing nature entices them to run faster. There’s two of them, growling with a fierce but not scary sound as they follow your path with hearts racing and magical heat filling the air. 
Just a few yards behind now, you push yourself as fast as you can go. While the thought of being caught is exciting and you long for the indecent result of their capture, you know the chase will be much more fun in the long run. The thought keeps you running, feet slapping against the ground as you huff pants of air in an attempt to keep yourself running. 
You can hear them behind you. Wolfish pants leave their chests and the sound of one of their growls sends a bolt of heat between your thighs. The same wolf sends a lustful beat of heat through your bond, a deeper warmth making your knees weak at the lascivious feeling. It’s a dirty trick - one that almost works. 
But you’re so close. 
Just a few more meters and you’ll break through the tree line, into your clearing: your safe zone. You know the heat between your thighs will be a bother to deal with later, but the thought of what will happen in the long run is too promising an idea. 
You allow yourself a glance over your shoulder. Just a glimpse is all you want. 
At the sight of a dark onyx colored wolf on your heels, a chestnut one on his own, has your heart stuttering with a bolt of thrill. A smile stretching across your lips at the darkened look in their eyes and heat in your bond, you turn back to your front and keep pushing through the trees. 
Hyunjin feels his heart stutter as he realizes how close you are to their borders. Just a few more yards and he’ll lose his chance. The thought makes him growl fiercely. With a fleeting thought, Hyunjin realizes you’ve planned this. You have made sure to only venture so far into the woods, ensuring that you'll be able to escape their grasp just barely. In his frustration, Hyunjin feels his chest swell with desire. 
You’re smart. 
Sending his thoughts to his partner, Jisung hisses out a curse as you begin to slip from their grasp. Pushing himself faster, Jisung refuses to let you win. His lungs scream with each breath, but Jisung knows the prize will be oh so sweet. The thought of pressing his skin into yours and sinking his teeth into your throat in a mating bite has his mind going fuzzy. 
With his mind lost in thought, Jisung misses the moment you cross the borders of their territory. 
With a final pant, you dive across the line. Exhaling harshly and pushing a few feet into the clearing to give yourself space, you lean over and rest your hands on your knees as you breathe. Lungs screaming for air, you pant with a wide smile and heat between your thighs. 
Outside the borders of their land, you have won the first challenge.
You pant harshly and attempt to keep yourself from squirming under the carnal gazes of the two werewolves. The heat still sizzles fiercely under your skin and you have to resist rubbing your thighs together to cope with the ache. 
Hyunjin feels a shiver shake down his spine at your motion. His tongue swipes across his teeth and he swears he can taste your lustful scent in his mouth. Dark pupils nearly roll back into his skull and Jisung simpers at his side, pacing in his anger. 
“Ahh,” you sigh, voice weary from the run. “You two are quick.” 
Turning back to the trees, you spot the tense forms of the two wolves. They’re pacing, feet as close to their border as they can possibly get. Muscle ripples beneath fur and you know the darker wolf is holding himself back from transforming. The notion excites you, knowing he could turn back to his human form at any moment. Shivering with delight, you smirk at him. 
“But not quick enough.” 
Hyunjin snarls. His chest hammers and he can feel the disappointment seep into his head. The heat is still there, roaring under his skin and setting every nerve in his body alight. Jisung paces at his side, the same fire rippling under his own skin. The two wolves fight the urge to transform, longing and aching to continue their pursuit. Desire roars in their forms, keeping them pacing along the line of their territory in an effort to expel some of the heat. There's only so much they can do to keep them from ripping from their wolfish forms and crossing the border. 
“Hyung,” Jisung’s voice is dark and laden with a salacious weight, “Chan said-”
“To hell with what Chan said!” 
Jisung’s pacing seems to grow more fierce. Whipping his head back to his partner, Jisung feels his chest pull tight with both the weight of his arousal and the constraint of Alpha’s orders. 
“Hyunjin,” Jisung sternly murmurs. Despite the heat burning every nerve under his fur and your scent ensnaring his senses, the chestnut wolf manages to keep himself in control. He knows Hyunjin doesn’t mean the words that spill forth in his carnal rage. Too motivated by primal urges and the thrill of the hunt, Hyunjin lets his wolf speak for him. 
“Little fucking tease,” Hyunjin growls, feeling his wolf shake with the emotion.
Jisung growls another feral sound, and you smirk. The heat echoes through your bond and you feel excitement swell once more. Now that you’ve had a taste, you know you’ll never be able to give this up. This chase is the most thrill you’ve ever had - you’ll never be able to escape the heat from these werewolves. 
And you don’t think you want to. 
“Maybe next time, Boys,” you playfully murmur. “Let the others know I said ‘Hello.’”
Then you turn on your heel and disappear back into your little cottage, letting the heavy wooden door fall shut behind you with a final sound. 
With his heart hammering beneath his ribs, Hyunjin snarls with finality. Unable to accept his loss, the dark wolf whips around to face the chestnut fur of his mate. Jisung slows his pacing to face Hyunjin, head tilted to listen to what he has to say. 
In a wildly nimble move, Hyunjin turns quickly and sinks his teeth into Jisung’s chestnut scruff – a dominance bite. 
Jisung stills under his mate’s teeth, going limp in his grasp. He whimpers quietly, his lust warping as Hyunjin growls into his skin. The burning fire in his chest transforms from dominance to submission in one quick moment. Hyunjin has Jisung under his body, his body rippling as he stands over his partner with desire sizzling through their bond. Jisung is sure you can feel it - just as he knows his other six mates can. 
“Hannie,” Hyunjin purrs, voice echoing in the younger’s mind, “If I can’t have her tonight – then m’gonna have you.” 
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Your next encounter with the wolves is a few days later. 
After the first chase, you were unable to shake off the exciting feeling for hours. The adrenaline and surge of sweeping heat kept you in its grip the entire evening. In fact, you were quite certain the two wolves were using the magical bond to tease you long after you had separated. The bond continues to thrum and seize with waves of emotion that keep you awake, swimming in the depths of their pleasure.
Heat addled your body, leaving you sweating in your sheets and panting in the darkened hours of the evening. Though uncomfortable, you could not seem to hate the feeling. The goosebumps that scattered your skin beneath the heat were not unpleasant - merely sensitive, as was any touch against your warming skin. 
After a few hours, you deciphered that the werewolves were toying with you. They kept you awake with the same rush of emotion you had incited in their bodies earlier that evening. Sitting upright in bed, you huffed a sigh as you came to the conclusion.
Shortly after, you came to another decision. 
You were going to start playing dirty. 
So, a few days later, when you had another chance to venture into the woods, you were well prepared to ensnare the wolves as they had you. In a loose dress that fell below your knees, you could barely resist the surge of pride in your chest as you maneuvered through the forest with a hum. 
The idea had struck you not long after you finally fell into the clutches of sleep that night. You knew it was a crazy idea, one more filthy than anything you had ever concocted before. While you were nervous, the waves of apprehension still rolling in your stomach, you were also very excited to see their reactions. 
As you found your way into the same clearing you had discovered a few nights ago, you shivered once in the night air with the dregs of worry seeping away from you. This was a crazy idea – one you would only be able to invent in your wildest dreams. You never imagined you would ever do something such as this, but it seems meeting the werewolves was a discovery that would help you explore new facets of life as well as within yourself. Perhaps your meeting was not so accidental. 
Shivering once more, this time with bursts of excitement, you shimmied your legs and maneuvered out of the simple pair of cotton panties you had donned that evening. Heat rose into your face at the action, your ears burning as you finally pulled them off your legs. You felt a little obscene but you found that you were not averse to the new feeling. 
When the dark material of the black cloth reached your eyes, you felt a burst of bubbling feeling in your chest. Beneath your ribs, both an anxious and an excited feeling slammed together in a stormy collision. You could barely keep yourself still as the adrenaline began to sink into your being. 
Stepping towards a raised stump on the forest floor, you felt the edges of a smirk pull on your lips. The darkened bark covering the stump was barely visible in the moonlight, but you found you did not have much trouble maneuvering in the lack of light. Placing the cloth onto the stump, where you were sure it would not be obstructed, you stepped away with an assured sigh. 
Content with your plan, you laid in wait for whichever wolves would be your predators tonight. 
The werewolves in question were not far from your little seclusion. Minho, the pack’s second-in-command, leads the two youngest through the trees. Thickets of green coniferous branches surround the three werewolves, each section of the woodland looking not so different from the next. Minho and the others, however, were well aware of their position. They knew this forest like the back of their hands – likely able to maneuver through the thicket without the aid of their eyes. Minho swears he could follow the entirety of the borders of their territory by scent alone. 
Jeongin and Seungmin follow behind Minho, the two youngest speaking quietly to each other as they scout for their patrol. Minho is quiet, allowing his partners the hushed conversation - finding he greatly enjoyed listening to their voices fill the silence of the night. As he led the way, he kept his attention split between the pleasant sounds of his younger mates and the sounds of the forest around them. 
Jeongin’s lighter walnut-colored coat pressed into Seungmin’s darker fur as they walked, leaning into him for a moment before stepping away. Both of the younger’s were considered less physically affectionate than some of their older partners. However, that did not mean they were ever far apart for long. 
They spoke quietly about Hyunjin and Jisung. The two wolves had returned from patrol long after they should have; fur ruffled and smelling of sweat and indecent substances, Hyunjin had smirked at his other lovers. He recounted the events that had led to their return, speaking joyfully of the chase that had occurred and gruffly admitting that you had escaped outside their territory at the last moment. 
Minho had let out a gleeful chuckle at the younger’s admission, laughing heartily at their expense. Hyunjin and Jisung had rolled their eyes, knowing their partner had an inclination to tease. The second-in-command took great pleasure in poking fun at his partners: a love language of sorts. 
Had Minho known he would be the next to fall victim to your game, he would have teased the two less. 
It’s only a few moments later that Minho lifts his head, picking up the slightest hint of your sweet scent. It filters through his senses, seizing his mind and shifting his attention. Seungmin and Jeongin are at his side a moment later, coming to a halt as they lift their noses to the sky. 
Inhaling deeply once, Seungmin picks up the same inkling his elder has likely discovered. Feeling a wave of delight shiver through him, Seungmin turns to face his two partners with what looks like a wolfish grin. He shifts on his paws, testing his weight as his muscles prepare to launch. 
“Hmm,” Jeongin hums with his eyes closing in a blissful feeling, “She’s s’sweet, Hyung.” 
Minho responds with a chuff, shaking his coat in an attempt to clear his senses. Pawing at the ground, he feels the dregs of the thrill of the chase begin to form in his stomach. As second-in-command, Seungmin and Jeongin will wait for his word before either of them move. The notion makes Minho shiver – he greatly enjoys the dominance. 
“You smell her, Minnie?” the youngest questions. 
Seungmin responds with a purr of his own, sweeping his head to the ground to breathe another wave of your scent. He feels light-headed, the notion of your proximity making him feel weak. Leaning into Jeongin’s side, he looks to Minho as he speaks through their connection, “She’s close, Hyung.” 
Minho nods his head, chocolate colored fur shimmering in the light of the moon. You’re only a mile or two ahead, he surmises. Downwind from your position, they can breathe your scent clearly in the night air. Underneath your pleasant scent, Minho picks up the challenge. The traces are obvious in both your sweet smell and though the bond. As he tugs his end, Minho feels a feral grin overtake his features at your alluring pull in response. Though you’re likely unaware of the reality of the bond, you definitely understand how to manipulate the metaphorical string. 
“It seems Hyunjinnie wasn’t lying,” he murmurs with a smirk. “Are ya’ ready? She wants a chase.” 
Seungmin is quick to respond with a deep growl, his younger mate springing to his side with a similar sound. Setting his shoulders back and getting ready to pounce off his feet, Jeongin gives Minho a silent look of confirmation.
Then the three wolves are springing forward, launching towards your direction with a ferocity surging from deep within them. 
You can tell the moment their pace picks up speed from your position. Despite being so far, the enchanting change in the air and the burst of emotion in your chest is indicative of the shift. Feeling the adrenaline begin to pump through your veins, you let a sprawling grin take over your cheeks as you turn back towards your cottage. 
Shooting a last glance at your ‘gift,’ you turn on your feet and start running. They may be a mile behind, but you know their superior speed and strength will catch up to you quickly. When the night air rushes past you with a chill, you grin as howls fill the silence of the forest. 
The chase is on once more. 
Blood pumping and breaths coming out in pants, you feel the thrill overtake your body. It’s so alluring to feel the delight overtake you in these moments. With the new bond roaring beneath your skin and your mind racing, you leap through the little path you’ve memorized. Soaring over fallen branches and hooting with glee, you let your voice fill the sounds of wolfish howls. 
Minho’s heart stutters as your own elated sounds echo after their primal ones. Pushing himself faster, he can sense your proximity – not too much farther from him now. He won’t let you get away, not like the others did, 
Jeongin and Seungmin respond with their own ecstatic hoots, picking up their pace as the elder did. Their own emotions surge and swell in a mighty storm, feeling lighter than they’ve ever been as they race through the towering pines. 
These three are quick, you realize as you close in on your cottage. They’re coming closer than the previous two had. With your heart slamming in your chest and stomach twisting with glee, you attempt to push yourself a fraction faster. Your lungs scream for air, as if the mouthfuls you inhale aren’t enough. However, you know the reward is far too sweet to give in just yet. 
With a few yards left, you think you can feel the hot breaths of the lead werewolf across your back. Skirt twisting in the wind, you feel your heart skip a beat as you decipher how close they are from you. Heart in your throat, but not uncomfortably, you judge how far you are from the boundary line. It’s not far, but the wolves are even closer. 
Nerves alight and goosebumps breaking across your skin, you decide to take a chance. With the tree line coming into view, you feel the forms of the wolves closing in. Oh, they’re much quicker than the other two – or perhaps less competitive. It seems the playful rivalry between the two previous wolves had impeded their ability to catch up to you. 
With their forms coming too close, you suddenly dive to the side. Feet skidding across the dirt, you almost topple over in an attempt to catch yourself from the risky maneuver. As you try to keep yourself upright, you spot the dark chocolate color of fur fly by your side. The lead wolf shoots by, missing your form as you dove to the side. He lets out a shout of surprise, claws skidding across the dirt as he spins back to face you. 
You smirk as you pick the pace back up. He’d played right into your trap, giving you the precious few moments you needed to cross the boundary line. Panting harshly and grinning in accomplishment, you throw your head back with a gleeful victorious shout. 
“Fuck!” Minho snarls. He’d fallen for your ruse. Hyunjin had been right - you were cunning. As he paces the boundary line with a defeated growl, he can’t help but admire how wolfish you look in your pride. The heat under his skin still simmers vibrantly, but Minho is adept at keeping his feelings under control. 
You turn back to the brown wolf, grinning brightly at his darkened irises and tense shoulders. Despite the monstrous look, you find you’re not at all afraid of the wolves. You are well aware they would never lay a hand to harm you. The magical thrum connecting you and the eight speaks to that promise. 
Giving Minho a smug look, knowing he doesn’t yet know of your plan, you watch him pace the line once more. Delight surges in your chest and the feeling is alluring. 
“Alright, Sweetheart,” he hisses to himself, “You win this one.” 
Defeat is not a pleasant feeling, but Minho admits that the chase had been thrilling. Adrenaline still pumps through his system and he feels the enchanting allure that Hyunjin and Jisung had spoken of. It had been more than fun to pursue you through the trees, keeping your back in his view and tasting you on his tongue, Minho had never felt more alive. Though he’d failed to catch you, Minho too, knows the reward will be so much sweeter than the chase. 
One day, he promises – one day, he’ll tear you apart. He can’t wait for the moment you lie beneath his form – weak to his whims and head thrown back in pleasure. Minho swears he will never see a more beautiful thing. Your beauty is perhaps only rivaled by that of his other partners. 
You don’t say anything to Minho this time, knowing he has yet to discover your trick. The two other wolves are not behind him, and you are fairly certain of what has caught their attention. The chocolate wolf does not seem to realize their absence yet, but you turn back to your homely cottage with a grin, waiting for the discovery to sink in. 
When the door falls shut behind your form, obscuring your body from his sight, Minho finally realizes his younger partners are not behind him. Shaking off the lusty haze that blurred his mind, he turns back to the darkened pines at his rear. Stepping back into the depths of their territory, Minho reaches out through the bond for Jeongin and Seungmin. 
There’s a strike of worry in his chest, the pang hitting uncomfortably in his ribs as he scans the trees for his younger mates. 
However, before he has a chance to call for them, the two wolves are bursting through the trees in front of him, already transformed into their human forms. Standing on two legs and feeling the night air brush against his bare skin, Jeongin’s eyes are blown wide. Darkened pupils fill the space of his irises, overtaking the space with lust clear in the swirling depths. He clutches something tightly in his fist, as if protecting the item of his desire. 
The youngest stumbles as he comes to a stop, clearly affected by something that has overtaken his senses. Jeongin’s head feels as though it may burst. It’s overcrowded with thoughts of you and the article of clothing he grips firmly in his fingers. It still smells fresh, as though you had only taken it off moments ago, and the thought makes Jeongin weak in the knees. It overpowers his very being, setting each of his nerves on fire with blazes of indecent emotion. 
Seungmin looks no different, panting breath and eyes wide, he stalks towards his lover with a salacious look. 
“Hyung,” he nearly whimpers, breath catching on the word. His chest is tight and his voice breathy. Speaking feels all too much, and as he inhales, he catches another deep whiff of the cloth clutched in Jeongin’s fingers. Feeling his knees go weak, he shivers in delight and leans into Minho, who has quickly shifted back to his own human form. The elder catches Seungmin in his arms, feeling his skin buzz at the connection. 
Eyebrows furrowing, Minho turns to look back at Jeongin with confusion evident in his features. He’s still reeling from his defeat, but the look on Seungmin’s face has bewilderment swirling in his chest. Jeongin looks back at his mate with a haughty smirk on his face, shining teeth catching in the light as he grins with lust evident. 
“Pretty Girl left us a gift, Hyung.” 
With his chest surging with carnal desire, Jeongin holds out his hands and lets the scraps of inky black fabric fall into the open air. Minho feels the breath leave his lungs as the scent that clings to the cloth seeps into the air, filling his chest and making his knees tremble. Now truly understanding Seungmin's squirming form, Minho lets his eyes trail from the pair of black panties in Jeongin’s grasp to the path that leads back to your humble cottage. 
With an enraged snarl, Minho feels desire warp his being as he shakes. 
“That fucking slut!” 
His words aren’t malicious, but Jeongin still shivers with the weight of them. The two younger werewolves are well aware of the indecent names that fall from Minho’s lips in the heat of the moment – they’ve both been on the receiving end more than once before. 
“Smells s’fucking good, Minho,” Seungmin simpers, sinking into his parter as his head swirls. “M’gonna go crazy, I swear” 
Minho knows all too well the feeling that warps Seungmin’s conscious, for the same emotion swirls in his own mind; it makes him dizzy and he has to step backward to balance himself. Your fresh scent is everywhere, it tingles on his tongue and he shakes with the feeling. He barely maintains control of his wolf, begging to break free and howl with desire into the chilling night air. Swaying on his feet, Minho is surrounded by you. There’s hints of his lovers intertwined in your scent, and Minho feels as though his heart may burst with both arousal and affection. He can smell stains of your arousal in the fabric and Minho understands what it feels like to lose his mind. 
Shaking his head to clear his senses, he tries to keep himself upright. It does not work, but Minho swears he can keep himself together for a few more minutes. 
“C’mon - Chan’s gonna want to see this.” 
Jeongin audibly whines. Seungmin’s throat hurts when he echoes a similar sound. It cuts short when Minho’s big fingers pull at the back of his neck, scruffing him despite the lack of their wolfish forms. Seungmin’s whine cuts short, going limp into Minho’s arms. 
“Minho-” Jeongin whimpers, feeling the desire surge again. He’s not quite sure he’ll be able to make it all the way back to the pack house in this state. His legs are weak and he feels as though you’ve sent him into a premature rut. 
Minho huffs a snarl, sending Jeongin a look. As second-in-command, his word is final. However, Minho is not cruel. He may be teasing with his dominance, but Minho knows when enough is enough. Duty always comes first in his mind – desire must fall second for the moment. With a smirk, Minho pulls Seungmin up his chest a little. 
“Enough. We report to Chan, and then you two are mine.” 
And the second chase ends quite similarly to the first. 
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When Minho returns from patrol that evening, practically dragging his two younger mates by their scruffs, Chan looks up from his place by the kitchen counter with interest. He could tell something had changed in their bond, an electric fizzling that felt much like arousal had filtered through each of the wolves not long ago. However, Chan could feel a new and exciting rush of emotion that he rarely experienced. 
Unsure of the change that had occurred, he perked up when the door opened. It nearly slammed against the wall with the force at which Minho had flung it open. His second-in-command is visibly trembling, barely keeping himself at bay against the torrent of emotion that wrecks his form. Eyes blown wide and darkened pupils enlarged, Minho looks feral. 
“Minho?” Chan questions, standing from his position to step towards his partner. He’s confused and a little wary, unsure of the events that have led to such a reaction. 
From over Minho’s shoulder, Chan catches a glimpse of his two youngest mates. They’re leaned against each other, barely keeping themselves upright and pressing every possible inch of skin together. It seems as though they cannot bear to be apart. Their eyes are a mirror of Minho’s – pupils dilated and blown wide with lust swimming in their murky depths. 
Jeongin audibly whimpers under Chan’s gaze, his head tilted to bare his neck - where Chan’s mating mark glistens with a glimpse of sweat. The other wolves have their own; seven marks dwell on each of them, but only Chan’s mark sits in the crevice between shoulder and throat: the mark of an Alpha. 
Chan feels his own arousal spike at Jeongin’s show of submission, but the pack leader attempts to shake off this feeling until he understands the situation better. His stomach twists with the feeling, but Chan buries it deep. Seungmin is seemingly not paying attention. His eyes are foggy with lust gripping him tight, and Chan knows he will not get an answer from him. 
“S’going on?” Chan tries again, stepping forward towards Minho once more. It’s clear the three wolves are ensnared in desire’s hold, but there’s still something missing – something that has happened on their evening patrol. 
Minho’s hazy eyes glint in the light and a smirk lifts the corner of his mouth. Chan feels apprehension swirl in his chest at the expression, wondering if he even wants to know the answer to his own question. 
“Our little angel left a present for us tonight, Hyung.” 
The furrow in Chan’s brow seems to deepen at Minho’s comment. The pack leader is well aware of the challenge he has set forth - just as he knows of the first chase that occurred between you, Hyunjin and Han. He had been extremely pleased to understand that you were seemingly delighted to accept the mating bond. Wolves were strange creatures, and their courting customs were even odder. At first, he’d been unsure if you understood the challenge he issued upon your first meeting. 
However, when Hyunjin and Han returned to their home a few days later with their eyes blown wide and frenzied smiles on their lips - just as Minho and the others do now, Chan knew you were fully aware of the decision you had made. If the deepening breadth of the magical bond between you was any indication, you wanted this as much as they did. 
“A present?” Chan’s rumbling voice sounds. 
Minho’s vague response only leaves the pack leader with more questions, and Chan steps forward again to press his second-in-command further. The implication of a second chase had been obvious, and your teasing nature would be enough to leave his mates in a carnal frenzy. However, he was not prepared for how cunning you could be when it came to driving his mates mad. 
As he approaches his partner, Chan is halted when he picks up hints of your scent in the air. Just a glimpse of your serene smell is enough to stun him. It addles his senses, blurring his thoughts as they begin to transform into images of you. Chest beginning to ache with a burning longing, Chan shakes his head to clear his mind. 
Minho, barely clutching to the remnants of his ever-slipping sanity, smirks with a mirthful look and reaches his hand out towards his eldest lover. The pack leader can tell the waves of your scent originate from Minho’s closed fingers, and like a wolf tracking its prey, Chan’s eyes lock onto the outstretched appendage. 
Chan is so desperately unprepared for the barrage of emotions that crash into his mind when Minho’s fingers unfurl: revealing a dark onyx pair of panties, still overflowing with your fresh scent and clearly brimming with implications of your desire.
Minho has never seen his Alpha so weak. 
With his consciousness still blurry and body barely held back by the grip of his sanity, Minho watches his mighty leader tremble at the knees. It’s nearly instantaneous; Chan’s pupils dilate - the darkness in the inky masses overtaking the color that once shone lightly. His shoulders go lax and Minho can already smell the waves of lusty pheromones that Chan has unconsciously started releasing. 
From behind him, Jeongin and Seungmin keen, finally collapsing into a heap at their Alpha’s strong scent. Whining and pushing into each other, they rub bare skin against each other in the hopes of releasing some of the heat that burns so strongly under their flesh. Minho nearly gives in to temptation – he wants nothing more than to turn and descend upon his partners, letting the whim of desire command his next movements. 
Yet Minho is infatuated with the look that has fallen over Chan’s features. 
He cannot tear his eyes away from his pack leader, watching with a bated breath as Chan steps toward him. Under his primal gaze, Minho has never felt more weak to his pack leader than now. Somewhere deep in his gut, Minho feels a prick of excitement filter through him. Usually so dominant, the second-in-command is a little eager to see what happens next. 
A hungry, desperate sound escapes Chan’s lips when he halts in front of Minho. Skin almost touching, Minho extends his fist once more at his leader’s call. Offering the scraps of ebony cloth to Chan, Minho feels his spine shiver when Chan’s skin rubs against his own as he pulls the article into his grasp. 
“Fuck.” 
The sound is so unlike Chan. Minho had expected him to sound so much more daunting - as he himself had been filled with primal anger not so long ago. This sound, however, is so much weaker. The word escapes Chan’s lips barely louder than a whisper. It’s a weak sound, almost a whimper falling from his lips with a desperation Minho has seldom seen. 
Chan is overflowing with emotion, and he suddenly understands why his mates had been so unruly when they returned to the house a few days ago. 
His chest aches and surges with a torrent of desire and longing. Your scent surrounds him and Chan thinks his wolf may burst forth and take over the last threads of his dwindling sanity. Such a little thing, he manages to think – such a little thing can destroy them so easily. 
Only a moment later, Chan recedes back into himself. Transforming back into the dominant pack leader the others are used to, Chan growls out an angry, desperate sound. 
“Fuck!” 
He repeats the word, this time with the carnal rage Minho had been expecting. With shivers rolling down his back, the bond surges with emotion. Likely radiating to the rest of the pack, Chan sighs a deep whiff of your scent and lets himself sink into your aura. 
“Hm, this s’how she wants t’play?” he murmurs, feeling himself fade into the grip of desire. Chan lets his wolf press against the forefront of his mind, allowing it to control his carnality. Descending on Minho, his teeth ache against his gums as he presses his canines into his mate’s skin. Still human, they scrape against the smooth skin of Minho’s neck, and the younger grunts under the pressure, but does not move. Chan’s next words are moaned into Minho’s skin, gripping his partner tight to his body with your panties still clutched in his fist. 
“Oh, we can play dirty, Baby.” 
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Letting out a huff as you stretch to reach the heavy bag of sugar on one of the taller shelves, you pull down the item and set it on the counter before you.
The cafe always slows down around the afternoon. You’re open later into the day, but there’s often time to restock and compile things in the back room as the hours get later. Not as many customers filter through your sweet little shop in the afternoon, but that’s no bother to you. It gives you more time to start ‘special’ brews in the back – potions and elixirs of the sort. 
While you operate as an ordinary cafe during the day, the evenings are targeted towards the supernatural. It’s not well advertised, but other creatures know what to look for. Commissions for specific potions and special elixirs are just the start of the wonders you can brew in the afternoon hours. 
You had just completed a very complex potion - one that had taken you nearly a month to finish with the utmost care. It had been an expensive request, but one you were more than willing to perfect for a friend. A potion of immortality; not an easy potion to brew, and even more difficult to prepare correctly. The commission had nearly run you dry of ingredients, and frustrated you to no end. Yet, they had compensated for your troubles with far more payment than you would have asked. 
Of course, when eight demons - let alone the eight princes of Hell itself - knock on your door and make a request, you were more than willing to drop everything to assist them. 
Besides, they were friends. You’d even given their sweet soulmate some mirthful advice when she had approached you a few weeks back – something about a salt circle and how it would hold against the High King of Hell. 
When the bell to the door jingles loudly from the front room, you look up from the counter. The sugar emptied in its proper storage container, you throw the bag into the waste bin and tie your apron tighter around your waist. Preparing to meet the customers who have entered your shop, you suddenly feel a wave of familiarity overtake your body. 
Fingers stilling on the tie of your apron, you inhale a deep breath and feel the recognizable aura of your wolves filter through you. The bond tugs teasingly from their end, and you're suddenly aware you’ve never seen any of the werewolves outside their territory. 
The thought is both daunting and exciting. Unbound by the laws that prevent them from pursuing you in wolfish form, you shiver at the thought of what mischief they will get up to now. You find yourself surging with delight and anticipating, wanting to see their human forms as well as finally speak to them.
You only recognize one of the auras behind the door that separates you from the front room. There's two other werewolves with him, but you can feel the familiar teasing bond that connects you to one of the wolves from the first night. You cannot tell which it is, as their auras had blended together that night, but you know for certain one of them lies beyond the wooden frame. 
Inhaling deeply to soothe the worried excitement and build your confidence, you step forward and push open the folding door to the backroom. 
There’s no one else in the cafe - tables empty of patrons and cleared of dishes for the afternoon. The only forms in your little building are the bodies of the three werewolves that stand at your counter, smiles on their lips and something glistening deep in their irises. 
You have to prevent yourself from staring. 
The three men at your counter are breathtakingly attractive. Your breath is nearly stolen from your lungs at the sight of them. The one standing in front is the shortest of the three, but he is outstandingly the most muscular. His biceps bulge underneath the dark shirt squeezing them, and you have to avert your eyes to keep yourself from lingering on their shape. His lips raise at the corner when he notices how your eyes have to shift away. Dark hair shifting when his head tilts, he looks incredibly alluring in the light of the afternoon.
Behind him, a slightly taller man stands with a wide grin on his lips, and you suddenly feel as though the sun itself has graced you with its warmth. 
His longer blondish, silver hair rests against his neck, blending beautifully with the smooth skin and darker freckles that coat his cheeks. Teeth white and shining in his sweet grin, you feel warm from the inside out under his eyes. This man is the embodiment of sunshine - and he radiates kindness coupled with a teasing mirth that you can only detect through the bond that buzzes between you. He’s so alluring, you have to shift your gaze to the final man to break your concentration. 
The blonde is leaning against the tallest of the three - and with a stuttering breath, you realize this is the larger black wolf that pursued you during the first chase; the one who stalked the edges of their territory, attempting to lure you back into his grasp with bolts of arousal sent down your bond. You remember his dark eyes and his dominating aura, feeling waves of thrill filter through your stomach at the memory. 
He stands to the side, his arm wrapped around the blonde’s waist with a smirk pulling the side of his mouth upward. When a rolling burst of delight shivers down your spine, you feel his satisfaction swarm you. You recognized him, and the thought makes him keen. 
The tallest of the three is beautiful in a way that makes you hesitate. He’s princely – dazzlingly pretty with smooth skin and the top of his long blond hair pulled into a ponytail behind his head. Strands of his bangs frame his face, dangling in front of his eyes as a headband holds the rest back from falling from its place behind his head. He regards you with a confident, sultry look that makes your legs weak. There's a little dark, freckle beneath one of his eyes and you are overcome with the urge to press your lips against it. 
As if he can read your mind, his head tilts with another smirk. Eyes racking over your form, you shiver again and the sight seems to excite him more. 
With excitement prickling under your skin, you manage to step forward around the counter with a smile pulling at your lips. 
“Hello,” you murmur sweetly, feeling genuine happiness at their arrival. “Can I help you three?” 
Stepping forward to greet them, you feel another beat of delight pull you nearer to their forms - almost as if their very existence draws you closer. The tallest hums, the sound warm as he regards you. His voice is nearly a purr when he answers you. 
“Oh, you most certainly can.” 
“Hyunjin!” the blonde murmurs with a smile, digging his fingers into the taller’s side. “What happened to ‘going slow?’”
You giggle fondly at their display, covering your mouth with your hand. The two look up from each other with their eyes glimmering. Looking back at you with smiles stretching across their lips, they seem to adore the sound that falls from your lips. 
“S’alright,” you tease, “I suppose there’s nothing ‘slow’ about how we met before, so there’s no need to hesitate now.”  
Hyunjin, the wolf you met the first night, smiles even wider at your words. Satisfied with your response, he looks back at his younger partner with the same grin. ‘See?’ the teasing look seems to say. 
The darker haired man in front rolls his eyes playfully. The action does not seem annoyed, more so mirthfully done as he appears used to the two’s antics. Uncrossing his arms from across his chest - an action you find yourself missing as your eyes leave his chest - he reaches a hand out with a smile of his own. 
“Changbin,” he offers with a deep voice. “We figured we should probably formally introduce ourselves if our ‘meetings’ are going to continue.” He says the word with a honeyed, crooning sound - one that makes your stomach turn with heat. 
You reach out your own hand with an offer of your own name, gently grasping his fingers as you speak. As your hand closes around his, you feel a striking beat of heat in your chest. You look up at him in surprise, and are met with a smirking smile. He seems to completely understand the feeling, as a pleased sound escapes his lips. You eye his hand with a look, then turn back to him with a questioning, teasing look. 
He shrugs off the look, letting you know it would likely be explained later. When he lets go of your hand, you miss its warmth and the flood of pleasant emotion that came with it. 
Though, his partner steps forward next, offering his own to replace the loss. 
“M’Felix,” he adds happily. His voice is deep, and you feel like you’re drowning in the waves of his soothing voice. You feel the same warmth filter through you at his touch. He truly is sunshine incarnate. When the same bolt of heat sinks into you upon contact with his hand, you feel it settle low in your stomach as you crave more of it. 
With his smile brighter than any other, you feel a strange urge to squeeze his soft cheeks and scatter the freckles and sunspots with kisses. It’s a little strange to have such thoughts upon your first meeting, but you suppose this magical bond is much odder. 
The last of them, Hyunjin, steps forward finally. His hand leaves Felix’s waist with difficulty, almost as if separating from him is painful. Yet, he reaches his hand out all the same. Long fingers dangling in front of you, you regard him with a mirthful look - one he happily returns. 
“Hyunjin.” 
You wrap your fingers around his hand, finally shivering in delight as you finally put a face to the name of the wolf who had chased you not so long ago. His touch is remarkably sweet despite the roaring pleasure that seems to spawn from it. Hyunjin seems to send the heat down the bond as he touches you, more than ecstatic to finally touch you after being deprived that night. 
“S’nice to finally put a name to a face,” you playfully respond. “Or - snout, I suppose.” 
Hyunjin offers a little growl, teasingly pulling you a fraction closer. His voice drops back to a purr, honeyed sound echoing through you as he speaks. 
“So you do remember me?”
“I remember you losing,” you respond with mirth in your voice, having to turn away from his darkened irises as you speak. Being this close to him makes you weak in a way you could not have previously imagined. It’s a wonder you’re able to respond without your voice shaking. 
“Oh, do you?” 
Hyunjin hums deep in his chest, the sound nearly making you tremble with delight. His hand has not left yours, but you don't want it to. You adore the feeling of their skin against yours, and you find yourself not wanting it to leave. 
Felix huffs a laugh into Changbin’s shoulder, leaning into his older mate with a grin. It’s very funny to watch the two of you playfully bicker. Changbin feels a smirk of his own drift onto his cheeks. It’s nice to see someone put Hyunjin in his place; as if he doesn’t get enough of that from him, Minho or Chan. 
You respond with a hum of your own, resisting the urge to lean into Hyunjin as you do. This close, you can breathe in the intoxicating scent that surrounds the blonde. In a moment of clarity, you wonder if he dyes his hair – his wolf being a deep brown, nearly black. 
You shake off the thought when he leans a little closer. Changbin smirks when you shrink bashfully under Hyunjin’s proximity. For all your mirth, it seems you are weak under their hold. The notion makes his chest swell, already imagining all sorts of scenarios in which he wants to corrupt that sweet, sheepish look. 
“Next time -” Hyunjin coos as he pushes closer to press his lips to the shell of your ear to murmur the words. “Next time, I won't lose.”
You physically shiver slightly as his breath tickles your cheek. His proximity makes your brain still, suddenly surrounded by him. Everything in your mind is now focused on Hyunjin. The smooth expanse of his skin and the warmth of it beneath your fingers pushes desperately at the forefront of your mind. You want to push closer - to bury yourself in his chest as you had seen Felix do. You wonder how his fingers would feel on your cheeks, or even perhaps, less decent places too. 
Hyunjin feels his stomach leap with pride when he weakens visibly under his motions. The dominating feeling presses into his throat and grips him tightly, and he knows he’ll have to coax one of the others into his bed to burn off the heat later. 
Changbin pulls Felix closer to his side as Hyunjin speaks, feeling his own burst of dominance pulse when Hyunjin begins to release intoxicating pheromones. You won’t be able to smell them, but he and Felix surely do. 
“Yeah?” you murmur weakly back, feeling much less confidence as Hyunjin leers over you with desire clear in his eyes. 
“Hmm,” he agrees, chest rumbling with the sound. You swear you can feel his ribs shake with the sound. 
When he pulls away, you nearly follow after him. Missing his touch and his warmth, you are desperate to feel his hands again. You have to shake your head to clear your mind of the thoughts as Hyunjin leans back. With your mind back on track, you question what the three have entered your cafe for. 
Suddenly in a different mindset, Changbin reiterates what Chan had requested: several stamina potions and an elixir that allows the wearer resistance to wolfsbane. 
You nod with a clearer head, writing down the orders on a pad from the pocket of your apron. Already taking mental stock of the material you have on hand on what you’ll have to collect, you agree happily. 
“They can be finished tomorrow evening,” you supply, setting down the notepad on the counter behind you. “Can you send someone to pick them up then?”
“Absolutely,” Changbin nods. He already knows which of his partners will be the next to vie for an opportunity to see you. With how much of a fight Han and Jeongin had put up when they left, Changbin knows convincing any of the others to meet you tomorrow evening will not be a difficulty. 
You nod with a grin on your cheeks, moving to step behind the counter before you’re stopped once more. Changbin leans forward, his hand gripping yours gently. Moving away from Felix, the dark haired man suddenly steps impossibly closer. 
His chest nearly presses against yours and you have to physically tear your eyes away for his muscle to meet his eyes. However, perhaps it would have been easier to continue staring at his chest, as the moment you meet his dark eyes you find yourself striking under the lust that seems to swirl in their depths. Changbin is perhaps more dominating than Hyunjin, and heat swells in your stomach when he scans your form beneath his. A smirk pulls up his lips and he pushes closer again, savoring the sweet squeak that leaves your lips when your forms meet. 
Felix cannot resist temptation. 
Both Changbin and Hyunjin have had the chance to get closer - to feel your skin under their own and feel the beat of your heart so near. With a dizzy feeling, Felix steps away from Hyunjin. His eyes are cloudy with something you can't place, but from beneath Changbin, you recognize that his eyes are on you.
Tearing your gaze from the darker haired werewolf, you manage to meet Felix’s pretty irises. He’s giving you a look – a question swirling in the darkness of his pupils. With your mind slowly succumbing to Changbin’s aura, you vaguely realize that Felix is asking for permission. 
A woozy nod is all the answer he needs. 
Felix slides behind you with his chest nearly pressing against your back. He’s so warm, so kind when he pushes closer. You feel his chest vibrate with a hum, the beat of his heart quickening to match the pace of your own. You vaguely notice that your pulse is the same as his - as Changbin’s, and if you were close enough, likely Hyunjin’s too. 
Rumbling softly, you feel his skin move under yours and you feel light-headed. Changbin feels his stomach twist with desire when he smells the barest wave of arousal coat your thighs. If he were any weaker, he would have you with your permission now. However, he knows what Chan has planned. The reward at the end of their hunt will be so much sweeter. 
Felix slides an arm around you to touch Changbin, unable to hold back from feeling the skin of his partner. His eyes close, head tilting back in the slightest as the touch of your skin registers in his mind. 
“Pretty?” he addresses you, leaning down as Hyunjin had to speak the words directly into your ear. The name makes you keen, elated to be referred to with such a moniker. 
“Hmm?” is the only sound you manage to offer in response. 
“Thanks for the gift, Pretty Girl,” he coos, moving his strong hand behind you to tuck something into your back pocket. Your body trembles under his touch, feeling the way he leaves his hand at your backside for a moment too long. He pushes something into the pocket of your jeans, humming pleasantly as he does. He adores the way you seem so weak underneath him. Oh, how he longs to corrupt you further. 
“Bring us a new pair, next time?,” Changbin continues, “Something pink – it’s Chan’s favorite.” Though you don’t know Chan by name, Changbin suspects you are aware of the reference to their Alpha. 
With a keen and your head knocking back to expose your throat, Changbin has to use all his strength to not lean forward to set his lips to the skin. It’s been made very clear that Chan will be the first to mark you – Changbin will have to wait his turn. But the sight of your skin bare beneath him, with you so willingly offering it to him, Changbin has to pull back his wolf as it cries to sink his teeth into your skin with a carnal desire.
Felix adores the way you shiver against him, feeling the brush of Changbin’s hand against the front of his jeans due to his proximity. He feels his own resolve weaken, his stomach twists with delight and heat rising to his cheeks as his partner moves. 
It takes great difficulty to pull himself away, and Changbin has to lean into Felix to stop himself from pushing back into you. With an acknowledging nod, the three finally turn to leave your little cafe. It all happens so quickly, you barely feel time pass until their forms disappear down the street. 
When you can no longer see them, all strength leaves your legs and you sag against the counter at your back. The bond roars under your skin and every nerve is on fire. So little touch manages to drive you mad – you cannot imagine how it will feel when they finally capture you. 
Taking a deep breath to cool yourself down and rubbing your thighs together, you shakily reach for your back pocket. Skin still buzzing from Changbin’s touch, you pull out the cloth that he has stuffed into the crevice of your jeans. 
Under the light of the dimming afternoon sky, you exhale harshly at the sight of the tattered cloth in your grip. Torn nearly to shreds, it seems the werewolves have greatly appreciated your gift from a few nights ago. The notion makes you buzz in anticipation. The implication of their strength is not lost on you. If they have torn this apart, you cannot wait for what they will do to you upon your capture. 
With the knowledge of their pack leader’s favorite color, your buzzing mind makes quick plans. It seems you’re in desperate need of a pair of pink panties – it’s Chan’s favorite color, after all.  
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Minho mentions it when he returns from morning patrol. 
He’d gone out alone that morning, before the sun had broken through the trees and cast its golden light through the darkness of the coniferous pines. The air still clung to the chill of night, but Minho was not bothered - his fur was thick and his body temperature was higher than a human’s. The cold did not bother any of them. 
Just as the sun was breaking over the horizon beyond your cottage, Minho smelled it. 
He wasn't far from your home, just a couple of miles and he would be able to see the smoke from the crackling fire in your chimney. The knowledge of your proximity suddenly makes him very nervous. Hair standing on end, Minho's snout lowers to the floor. He tracks the scent until it reaches the border of their territory, far from your cottage. 
Vampire. 
Once he checked on your home once more, waiting to see your head emerge from the back door as you headed to work, Minho returned to the pack house. Your safety ensured, the second-in-command takes off. His paws slap against the earth as he bounds back to his pack leader with the news. 
“A vampire?” Chan questions, his words are tense but don’t reveal the anxiety that pushes at his throat. It settles there with a sickening feeling, but Chan ignores it. “Are you sure?”
Minho’s nod is immediate. He’s absolutely sure of what he smelled - there is no doubt in his mind. There was a vampire in their territory last night. After evening patrol had returned, it had likely slipped over their borders. Investigating or hunting, they were not sure. 
What Chan was sure of, however, was that you were no longer safe alone in their territory. 
“Shit, okay,” Chan curses. In the seclusion of just himself and his second-in-command, Chan allows himself a moment of worry. Minho is one of the only pack members he shows this side of himself to. Though his partners are extremely important to him, Chan doesn’t want them to worry. He keeps this anxious part of himself locked away, ensuring that the others shouldn’t have to experience the same.
However, this does not mean that the others don’t worry. God, if the others could take some of the stress from their leader’s shoulders, they would. They know Chan is unlikely to share the burden, feeling as though the pack leader should bear their burdens alone. So they find little things to ease the weight that holds him down. 
Minho and Changbin ensure that things run smoothly within the pack – ordinary everyday things that Chan shouldn’t have to worry about. Felix is an expert at eating tension need be, after all no one can resist his sweet smile and sunshine demeanor. Everyone takes part in cleaning and cooking, keeping the house nice so that these little things don’t pile on their leader’s shoulders. Jeongin brings food to Chan’s room when he secludes himself there to work. Seungmin drops by every few hours to refill his water bottle and make sure he’s drinking enough of it. Jisung is the mood maker, always managing to keep a smile on their faces despite the tension that may weigh them down. 
The pack runs smoothly when everyone has their part. No one is alone and no one is left behind. 
Minho’s hand reaches out to gently secure itself on Chan’s shoulder. He rubs his fingers gently, a comforting gesture that eases some of the tension in Chan’s muscles. 
Chan gives Minho a grateful look, nodding his head as he decides their next course of action. 
“Okay, we’ll meet her tonight,” he mutters. “Our challenge is put on hold for the next few days - at least until the vampire is gone.” 
Minho nods his head, agreeing with the command. He takes a deep breath that settles some of the worry in his stomach. 
“We can wait for her at dusk. Her cafe closes at 4 - she’ll be out not long after.” 
Chan’s lips press into a worried smile, nodding his own head. It makes sense, and Chan is comforted by the plan. If he can convince you to stay with them for a few days, he’d feel even better. Knowing there is a vampire at the edges of their territory, so close to your home, is an unnerving sentiment. Chan would give you his own room and have the others under lock and key if it meant he could ensure your safety. Though Chan doubts that any of them would bother you with your life in question. 
“Yeah, that sounds good,” Chan nods. He leans into Minho for a moment, enjoying the affection from his younger mate. Minho was honestly much more akin to a cat when it came to affection - careful and hard to understand sometimes. When he allowed it, or even reached out for it, the rest of the pack greatly enjoyed the affection from Minho. 
Minho ran his hand through the hair at the base of Chan’s neck, scratching gently and smiling at the hum of pleasure that escaped the pack leader’s throat. To reassure himself, Chan reaches out through your bond. He’s unsure if you'll understand the feeling, but he tugs his end of the string twice in question, praying you'll understand what he means. 
He waits a beat or two in silence, his head pushed into Minho’s neck. Then, his heart stutters as he feels the other end of the string tug back. Three pulses. Chan feels you pull lightly three times, sending back a beat of comfort to reassure him that you’re alright. 
With that comfort in mind, Chan allows himself to bury his face further into Minho. He breathes in the comforting, familiar scent of his mate and sighs deeply. Some of the tension has left his shoulders; the combined effort of both you and Minho easing some of his newfound worry. 
“S’fine, Hyung. We’ll see her soon.” 
Yet, hours later, when the sun has begun to set behind the trees and the air chills once more, you’re nowhere to be found. 
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After closing up the cafe earlier that day, you had decided to do something a little spontaneous. A few nights had passed since the last time you’d engaged in a chase with any of your newfound werewolf prospects. Of course, you had seen the three in your cafe not too long ago, and had been introduced to three more the following evening. It was nice to finally put faces to names, and you found that knowing what they looked like only drew you in deeper to the mystical connection between you. 
The second meeting in your cafe had gone quite similar to the first. This time, Han, Jeongin and Seungmin had been the ones to greet you. The three werewolves had picked up their order and conversed with you for a few moments, teasing being passed between you as all three wolves had been stumped by you during their own attempt to catch you. 
Each of them had taken a chance to get closer, sliding a teasing hand over your waist or leaning close to whisper something into your ear. There was friendly affection too, like when Jeongin fiddled with your fingers while you spoke about the pastries you baked that morning. Or when it was time for them to leave, Seungmin leaned in for a sweet hug, gently pressing you into his chest to squeeze you tight. It was nice – to experience the intimate moments in between the salacious scenes of your chases. You found yourself falling deeper and deeper into the connection that linked the nine of you together. 
Of course, before Seungmin let go, his hands drifted a fraction lower. The playful, short squeeze of your backside had made you let out a short squeak, heat rising to your cheeks and your ears burning. Seungmin laughed at the sound, chest rumbling with his giggles as he offered an explanation. 
“Changbin said you had a nice butt,” he murmurs playfully. You swatted him across the chest lightly, moving before he could catch your fleeting fingers. 
“Well, tell Changbin I’m going to kick his when he comes out tonight.” 
They had left shortly after, smirks on their cheeks and laughter smiling from their chests. By the time they disappeared from your vision, you were left feeling both giddy and buzzing with arousal. The sweet ring of anticipation simmered in your gut, and you couldn’t wait for later that evening. 
With a smile on your lips and the thought of the wolves on your mind, you decided you’d venture out a little earlier tonight. Hopefully you would be able to scout a new path – something different from the previous two runs. It would be exciting to change the pace for both you and the werewolves. 
As you lock up the cafe behind you, the giddiness shows in your step as you practically skip towards your car. The drive home feels shorter than it usually does; perhaps due to your enthusiasm to reach the little cottage to incite another chase.
It’s not long after you set foot in the homely cabin that you leave once more. 
The new pair of sweet pink panties already donned, you feel the excitement surge again. Five of the eight wolves have partaken in the challenge issued by Chan, the pack Alpha. Assuming they will follow a similar pattern as before, you hope that the final three will be the ones to enjoy a chase this evening. Felix, Changbin, and the pack leader himself - would likely be the last to join the exhilarating mating challenge. 
An arousing shiver rakes down your spine as you think of the request Changbin had made of you. The memory of his warm breath on the crevice of your neck and the press of Felix’s chest against your back makes the longing in your chest grow deeper. You wonder how Chan’s touch will feel against your bare skin. The connection that binds you to the pack leader is strong, and you can feel nearly every twitch and tug of emotion from his end. The notion makes you wonder how contact with his exposed skin against your own will feel – if the ache in your chest will finally soothe upon relishing in the depth of his touch. 
Lost in your spiral of thoughts, you meander through the woods without a particular destination in mind. You only want to venture about half a mile into the trees, as you know the werewolves may be able to catch you if you go much farther. You cannot outrun them for much farther. 
With dusk beginning to settle over the area, that last remnant of golden sunshine peeking through the trees, you listen to the peaceful sounds of the woodland surrounding you. The thrum of the magic that encompasses the borders of the wolves’ territory flickers for a moment, a feeling you are not used to. The magical aura that coats the edges of their land wanes under your touch, but does not weaken. It allows you entry without the expense of magic, a sentiment you understand to connect you further to the pack.
This feeling, however, is strange.
Even as you wander away from the border, you can still feel the aura shift and change, as if someone has crossed it – someone it did not entrust to the wolf kingdom. Someone it did not want inside the bounds of their land.
Your feet halt, breath catching in your throat as you suddenly feel the air go still. The sounds of the forest - the chirping of birds and the whistle of the wind through pines - all begin to fade into an eerie silence. It feels as though the very oxygen you breathe has gone stale, itching at your skin as it touches you.
Pulse stuttering in your throat, you hesitate. You had not before had fears of being alone in the woods. As long as you were in pack territory, you knew you were safer than anywhere else. That comfort had kept you from being frightened in the dark seclusion of the trees in previous nights. Now, with the startling reality of the solitude of the forest around you and the ominous fizzling of another magical presence weighing on your mind, you were more than aware of the nonsensical decision you had made.
Moving quickly, you shrink low in an attempt to cover yourself with the foliage that shrouded the area. Staying low to the ground to hopefully make yourself scarce, you take a deep breath to soothe your nerves. Your heartbeat stutters in your chest, thumping in an almost painful manner. It roars beneath your ribs and you think you can faintly hear the pulse in your eardrums. 
Skin prickled with goosebumps and chest beginning to tighten with the grip of fear, you attempt to draw from the little magic you possess. It’s not much - usually just enough to sense the magical changes and auras from other supernatural creatures. You’ve never been able to cast your own spells as the witch blood that flows through your veins has long been diluted over the ages. Your witch-like nature was mostly expressed through the brewing of potions as it did not require magical prowess – only the spell books left to your possession by various ancestors. 
The reminder stings painfully in your mind, only ceasing to spark another bout of fear. As you hesitate, the eerie aura slips closer. 
In the darkening hours of dusk, you cannot yet see them, but you know they’re not far. With panic pushing into your throat, you do not have the conscious thought to alert the wolves. Falling back into base instinct, you are too new to the bond - too unfamiliar with its magic. In your panic, you can hardly recall its presence. 
When a stick cracks in the distance, you hold your breath. There is no telling what lurks behind the seclusion of your hiding place, and you do not know if they can hear each breath you take. 
Enraged tears push at the back of your eyes, suddenly furious with yourself for being so careless. There was much you could have done to prevent this, but you suppose there is no use in deliberating your mistakes. You force back the sweltering pressure that pushes against your eyes. You will not cry when there is something to be done - something to save yourself.
As another sharp, echoing crack of a fallen branch rings through the area, this time much closer, you try to puzzle through the aura of whatever being has begun to stalk you. It is quite clear they have learned of your presence. There would be no use in silent, slow tracking if they had been simply strolling through the woods. 
Reaching out with the barest traces of magic, you are stricken cold to discover what lies not far from your crouched form. Their aura is sanguine red, dripping with darkness and radiating with ill-intent. It’s suffocating as it descends upon you, seeming to fill both your lungs and your brain with its vile ambience. 
Vampire. 
You have not had much dealings with vampires. They’re solitary creatures, perhaps more so than witches. While some reside in covens, just as your own kind may, most chose a life of solitude. It’s easier to keep prey to themselves that way. They may not all be the bloodthirsty monsters of myth, but this one certainly is. With an aura so stark red and overflowing with hunger, you know you have become its next target.
Resistantly the urge to suck in a gasp of terror, you try to keep your breaths low and steady against the palm of your hand to suppress the sound. Before you can even attempt your escape, the chilling sound of its voice filters through the biting cold air that has begun to descend. 
“I can smell you, Pet.” 
The tears finally begin to squeeze from your eyes. Powerless to the burn in your eyes, the salty droplets fall from your ducts and wet your fingers. Terror has finally gripped you tight. You’re frozen to its entrapment, unable to move without fear of the vampire knowing your location – though you’re quite sure it’s already well aware. 
Stomach rolling with waves of anxiety, nausea beginning to burn acridly in the base of your throat, you feel as though you may vomit. You’ve never felt this pure, stirring form of fear seize you before. 
With desperation beginning to settle into your mind, you wonder if you can perhaps bargain with the vampire. It’s likely a fruitless venture, but you stand no chance if it comes to a fight. A vampire overpowers you in both strength and speed; you will not be able to outmaneuver it if you choose to run. 
Breath catching in your throat, you attempt to speak around the grip of nausea. Voice warbled with fear, though you try desperately to suppress it, you speak. 
“You don't want to do this.”
An unsettling laugh seems to spark a chill so deep into your form that you think it may nestle into the fiber of your very bones. They’re closer now. The eerie sound of their laugh comes from the thicket of pines to your right - back the way you came, towards your home. 
“And why not?” The vampire responds, ire rising in their tone. “You smell remarkably sweet, Little Witch – and it would be oh so easy to have a taste.” 
An uncontrolled shiver rakes down your spine and your hair stands on end. The frigid air settles into your skin, raising the goosebumps on the exposed flesh. His words are unsettling, only adding another wave to the already storming sea of panic in your stomach. The vampire seems to be enjoying the way you nearly tremble in fear, the smugness showing in his voice when he answers. 
Your brain races as you attempt to find a reason. Panic pushes at your head and your mind is moving too quickly. Ideas race past and you cannot seem to grasp one with a conscious thought. It feels as though you are drowning in the depths of your own mind, unable to grasp hold of a single thing to say. 
It’s only when you feel a single tug on the buried string in your chest, do you remember. The pull is strong, reaching out with a worried apprehension, and you can barely feel it over the tightness that keeps you still. 
“The wolves!” you gasp out, voice airy as you barely manage to stutter out the word. “This is werewolf territory – you can’t touch me here!”
The vampire snarls. 
You still once more, the sound seeming to strike you frozen. You almost expect the vampire to descend on you then, with sharp fangs and bloodlust surging within the vile creature. He sounds furious at your exclamation, as if the mention of werewolves was a personal attack. Well, you suppose it kind of is. 
“Werewolves,” he sneers. You can practically hear the way his lip curls over the word. Disgust lingers in his tone, the sound nearly making you angry on behalf of the wolves you’ve come to treasure. “As if I care for what wolves think.”
You shudder. 
If the strength of a wolf pack is not enough to stale the vampire, what can you do? A witch with so little magic, unequipped and alone in the woods. If you reach out now, with the reminder of your bond only just coming to fruition, will the wolves be able to make it to you? With so little space between you and the beast, you fear your dear wolves will only arrive to find your limp corpse, drained of blood and blank to the world. 
The thought is a sickening lump you cannot swallow. 
As the vampire closes in, the acrid feeling in your throat pushes into your mouth. Stomach swelling and turning with fear, your pulse stutters again. With so little options left, you decide you will take your chances. 
Acting with haste, you lift from the depths of your hiding place and immediately push off the balls of your feet. Taking off into the trees, you race away from the path in the hopes that the mass of trees and winding steps will allow you a little breadth from the vampire. Heart racing and feeling your lungs wheeze with each inhale, you push yourself beyond your limits. With your life in the balance, the adrenaline allows you to keep running. 
With your legs pumping, you finally reach out. 
You hope you can maintain enough distance between you and the vampire for the wolves to arrive. There's not much of a chance, but you hope that you’ll at least give them a chance. Any sooner, and you fear they’ll be finding your lifeless body. As you reach out now, panic fueled terror racing down the connection, you pull at any of the strings you manage to grasp. It’s so difficult to focus on the bond as you race through the trees, but you force yourself to continue. It’s your only chance. 
You do not have the conscious thought to feel how they respond.  
The vampire, seeming to have expected this, snarls and takes off behind you. 
His much quicker form descends on you quickly, easily keeping pace with you. He seems to be enjoying the chase, hooting as tears leak from your eyes and blur your vision. With your path winding between trees and dodging fallen logs, you're able to maintain a fraction of distance between yourself and the beast. 
This is far different from the chases between you and the werewolves. 
Those runs left you feeling light and excited, body rushing with a pleasant buzz of adrenaline and the longing humming in the bond. In those moments, the thrill was shared consensually between both you and the wolves, keeping the both of you ecstatic for each moment. 
This chase, between you and a monstrous beast who intends to drain your body of its precious life-force, is much different. 
The adrenaline that fuels you now is not of excitement, but that of terror. It pumps into your limbs and keeps you from shaking. However, it does nothing for the panic that crashes into your head. Your mind races with fear and you cannot push away the tears that race down your cheeks. With your thoughts solely focused on dodging the trunks of trees and the lashing of outstretched branches, you do not have a conscious track of mind to stop the salty liquid from blurring your vision. 
Legs pumping and calves burning, you are powerless to the vampire’s strength. With a pained cry, he collides with you. It’s a short moment, just enough for the monster to shove you off your feet. 
Heart a swollen lump in your throat, you weep out a sobbing sound of fear as you tumble down a short cliff side. Sharp branches cutting into your skin, exposing the bloody flesh underneath, you hiss in pain. Your fall is stopped when you collide with a fallen tree trunk. Back slamming into the pine, you squeak another miserable sound. 
Terror squeezes you tight. You can barely feel the stinging pain of the open wounds under the grip of fear. Blood drips down the bare skin of your arms, but you can barely feel it. The throb in your ankle burns from where you’ve likely sprained it, and you pull the limbs closer to you. 
Now openly weeping, you choke on the cry that tries to break free from your lungs. 
“Please!” you cry, the sound warbled by the blur of tears. Clutching your arms to your chest, you try to put pressure on the bleeding scrapes. Any attempt to cover the blood from the nose of the vampire is fruitless. 
The vampire laughs coldly as he emerges from the darkness. Sun now long gone from the sky, the vampire has nothing to fear. 
“Don't cry, Pet,” he mocks with smugness. “It’s only a taste.” 
Frantically now, you pull harder on the bond. Yanking as strongly as you can, ignorant to the pulses of fear you send alongside it, you furiously pull with the hopes they can discern your plea. 
As he descends towards you, a cruel smirk smeared across his face, you finally begin to tremble. Holding a single hand out, you summon every fiber of magic in your form and force it outward. It weakens you greatly, taking every thread of energy along with the flare of magic. The resulting burst of flame is only a momentary distraction, singing the vampire’s clothes as he pushes closer. 
Snarling at your attempt to fight, he laughs cruelly as he finally closes in on your shaking form. Weeping and trembling, you weakly drop your hand and finally curl upon yourself in an attempt to cover your vital organs. 
When the vile beast is inches from your skin, a startling moment passes as he hisses and suddenly draws back as if your very being is laced with poison. A frown twisting his features, you are no longer aware of his actions as you pull yourself tighter into your body. 
“You cunning witch!” the vampire sneers, disgust leaking into his voice. “You’ve been marked by a wolf clan!” 
The monstrous beast’s words are punctuated with the chilling sound of a wolf howl slicing through the bleak hours of night. 
It’s a broken, mourning sound – brimming with pain and a longing so fierce you feel it in your own heart. The howl is soon accompanied by more. Seven more wolves join the call, an aching fear conveyed in their fragmented sound. They’re in pain; but it is not their own. 
They’ve heard your plea. 
They had not been far. They had been following your train since dusk had settled. Knowing the vampire was still on the loose, Minho and Chan had tracked it to the eastern border that afternoon and carefully swept through the rest of the territory for signs of the beast. Yet, they had still come up empty. 
Hyunjin and Han had immediately picked up the hints of your scent. With the rest of their mates not far behind, the wolves had not been far behind when the red string binding your fates had come alive. 
Intense panic is the first to strike them. Filtering with speed through their bodies, the anxiety is laced with the grip of terror. It surges through them with an aching pulse, stronger than anything they’ve felt from you. Not long after, the frantic tugging of the bond yanks furiously at their chests. 
Hyunjin nearly collapses on his feet. Knees weak, his chest aches at the weight of your fear. It’s terrifying, and the dark coated wolf is suddenly struck with a sickening grief. His fur shakes when Hyunjin waves his head to force away the feeling. It is too soon to mourn you, and Hyunjin will not let the ninth piece of their bond be taken so easily. 
It’s blinding. The immense grip of pure despair grips them tight, each of your panic-laced emotions being sent down the bond. Whining out of desperation, Felix crumples into Changbin. Weak to the strength of your fear, he barely pulls himself back onto his feet. He cannot let himself fall now. Changbin buries his nose into the younger’s muzzle, breathing in the scent of his partner and hoping the smell, despite the souring tinge, will help him maintain his balance. 
Chan is the one whose head knocks back into the first despairing howl, the ache of your pain fueling the mournful sound.
With the weight of the world on his shoulders, Chan feels weaker than he’s ever been. The aching sound leaves his chest with a cry of overflowing pain. In his many years, he swears he’s never felt such a surge of grief – not even when Seungmin had gotten caught in a bear trap years ago. Even then, he’d been assured that he could protect his partner - could care for him and nurse him to health. 
Now, with the overwhelming grip of panic in his chest, Chan fears he may lose you before he's even had the chance to love you.
It all happens in a single moment. The fear knocks into them - Chan howls, and then all eight of the wolves are moving. Taking off with a blinding speed, they race through the forest with the traces of your scent fresh in their minds. Only you and your desperate plea for help present in their minds, they push themselves quicker. 
Seven baying sounds echo into the night not long after their leaders. 
In a combined harmony, the werewolves convey their mournful rage. Despite the fear, the sound is brimming with overwhelming anger, for a member of the wolf pack has been threatened; a notion that grounds for a revenge even the High King of Hell himself, could not prevent. 
The pack leader swears he’s never been this scared. Your desperate plea for help has struck him so deeply, he fears it will be the last thing he ever feels from your end of the string that connects you. The eldest can barely manage a weak tug on your bond as he pants in exertion, praying it can provide you some reassurance; they’re coming, it says - just wait a moment longer, they’re coming.
While the howling echo was meant to be a notion of fear for its prey, you can only exhale a sigh of relief. They’ve heard you, it reassures, they’ve heard you and they’re on their way. 
The vampire steps away for a second, seeming to filter through his options. He takes a glance at the trees behind him and then back at your frightened form, eyebrows furrowed as he tries to decide what to do. You’ve been marked by this wolf pack – their scents are strong on your form, intertwining under the sweetness of your own. If he harms you now, he is certain to face the wrath of the pack. Even if he leaves the borders of their territory, they are sure to hunt him down for laying a hand on someone they've marked. No mating mark may lay on your skin, but you are quite clearly bound to this wolf pack – scar visible, or not. 
He doesn’t have time to make a decision.
With the sound of your weeping guiding the werewolves to your location, the vampire suddenly has no time to escape. He turns fruitlessly to locate the easiest method of exiting the bounds of their territory, hair whipping into his face. 
Your chest aches with the dregs of terror, body so desperately weak from the magic you had expelled. Sagging into the trunk behind you and adrenaline waning, the burn of your wounds begin to settle. Fear still lodged into your mind and body still curled upon itself, you do not see the vampire attempt to run. 
You only hear the furious snarl of a wolf’s growl and the pounding of feet on the earth. 
The roaring of panic in your ears is suddenly replaced by the gnashing of teeth and sharp howls of anger. Branches snap and claws scratch against the dirt. Rustling of various footsteps and the sound of sharpened incisions snapping against flesh fill your senses as the wolves descend upon you and the vampire. Clutching your ears tightly with bloodied fingers, you curl tighter on yourself. 
You don’t want to watch. 
You know the wolves are strong, but you fear having to see the vampire harm them. 
Whimpering with tears still slowly dripping down your skin, you do not see the towering, angry form of Chan’s silver wolf break into the clearing. Nor do you see Minho’s enraged snarl as he bursts forth from behind his pack leader. His teeth drip with saliva as he lunges for the vampire. Eyes locked on the beast, he barely manages a glimpse at your terrified form, bleeding and curled tightly on itself against a tree trunk. The sight fuels his protective anger, and his jaws clasp tightly upon the vampire with a furious sound. 
Jisung is the first of the wolves who’s anger wanes at the sight of your crumpled form. 
Strewn against the trunk of a fallen pine tree, you’ve curled upon yourself and clutched your ears tight. Blood drips from your fingers, as if you’ve tried to ebb the flow of blood from the scrapes and scratches that litter your exposed skin. The scent of terror clings to your form, and Jisung nearly gags on the acrid taste. 
Yet underneath the fear, Jisung still smells the sweet, gentle honeyed scent that usually clings to your body. He can still imagine the excited smile that stretched across your cheeks after your first chase, and oh, seven hells - does Jisung want to see that smile again. 
Breaking through the line of his furious partners, Jisung is the first to descend on your trembling form. 
Transforming to bare skin, Jisung collapses to his knees at your side. Watery eyes wide, his hands hover over your skin - afraid to frighten you with his touch. Reaching out, with his heart still pounding and anxiety a sickening lump in his throat, Jisung pulls gently at the red string binding you together. His side pulses with waves of comfort, praying the warmth will remind you of his presence. 
“Shh, Darling,” his teary voice murmurs so quietly. He’s dropped low, whispering the words into your ear, so different from when Hyunjin had muttered salacious teases. “S’alright, Angel - s’just me, s’Hannie.” 
When your fearful eyes finally pry open, wet from salty tears and pupils blown wide, Jisung feels his heart clench in his chest. Seemingly separated from the chaos just behind him, Jisung can only see your sweet form – only feel the stuttered beats of surprise and grateful pulses from your bond. 
“Sungie?” 
At the watery, broken cry of his name, Jisung cannot hold back. Chest aching, he pulls you into his body. Both of your bodies are trembling, and Jisung finally allows the salty tears to fall onto his round cheeks. Weeping softly as he feels your shaking arms wrap tightly around his back, he clutches you tight. You respond with the same fervor, as if you fear that in the next moment, he’ll be torn from you. 
“Yeah, Baby - s’me, you’re okay,” his weeping voice murmurs, words spoken directly into the skin of your neck. His reassurances seem to help as you sag into his arms, finally succumbing to the adrenaline rush. “We’re here, s’fine - you’re safe.” 
From behind Jisung, Changbin is not far behind Minho, and he snarls as he grasps hold of one of the beast's legs. The vampire cries out, but they are not swayed. The werewolves are fueled by the protective rage that swells through their bond. You are terrified and in danger, and they go to the ends of the Earth to ensure your safety. 
Hyunjin is the next to descend on the vampire, teeth sharp as they pierce skin. Blood fills his mouth, but Hyunjin is used to the feeling. His head is split between approaching you and swaddling you in his arms, aching to reassure you, and the brimming rage that seizes him tight. But with how you clutch to Jisung, eyes squeezed shut and attempting to push out the sounds of a fight, Hyunjin knows he must expel the traces of anger before approaching you.
He will not scare you like this.
Tugging sharply on the vampire, Minho and Changbin understand the message and begin to drag the beast away. He kicks and screams, trying desperately to get away from the grip of the wolves, but his attempts are fruitless. And when Seungmin lunges forward, rage finally overflowing upon sight of your terrified form, he cannot help the way his teeth sink into the vampire's neck, silencing the beast once and for all with a sickening crack. 
Felix is already at your side before the sounds can reach your ears. Gentle hands settling over your ears, the blonde keeps the gruesome cacophony of noise from reaching you. His hands are trembling, but he keeps them steady enough to maintain coverage. Felix’s eyes are teary, salty tracks covering his cheeks as he does so. Nonetheless, the touch of your warm skin under his hands seems to reassure him and reduce the shaking. 
He hums under his breath, pushing his chest into your back and hoping that the sound of his voice will drown out the rest.
When the four wolves drag away the body, not wanting you to see the horrors of death, Chan finally steps forward. 
He trusts his mates to take care of the vampire. Chan knows he does not have to worry about the rage that still simmers in his chest, and though he aches to give the beast a beating of his own, Chan knows there are more important matters at hand. 
When Chan finally shifts from his wolfish form, silver fur giving way to soft skin and worried eyes, he’s already on you. 
“Baby!” he cries, a sob of his own swelling in his chest. Despite all the strength he upheld as pack leader, Chan finally succumbs to the worry and the fear that gripped him so tight. He collapses at your side, bond crying out with reassurance and sweetly attempting to comfort you. “Baby - oh fuck, Angel.” 
Over the lump in his throat, Chan leans forward, hands hovering over your skin. He’s scared to touch you. Now in front of you for the first time as a human, with terror still seizing your mind, Chan doesn’t want to scare you. His wolf whines pitifully, longing to pull you into him, but Chan waits. 
When you feel the sweet hum of his connection call out, your eyes crack open and pitifully peer at him from the depths of Jisung’s chest. The dregs of fear still pulsing through you, you cannot stop the trembles that still rake through you. 
“Chan?” 
Felix has never heard such a mournful whimper pull from his Alpha’s chest. 
Finally giving into the longing ache, Chan pulls you into him with a gasping cry. Jisung loosens his grip, allowing his Alpha the chance to feel your skin against his. Chan lets the fear escape his chest with a weeping sob, his own tears burning at his eyes. With your skin pressed against his bare chest, Chan knows you’re safe. The heat of your body is a pleasant burn he never wants to extinguish. 
Your first glimpse of the pack’s Alpha is halted as he draws you into his chest with muscular arms. You cannot be upset about the motion, feeling the shake of your limbs already beginning to settle as his bare skin presses against yours. The pack leader openly sobs out a saddened sound, pulling you tightly into him with your bond flaring strongly. 
Chan is beautiful. 
Your weary eyes barely glimpse full lips and dark eyes as they tiredly fall closed, but you know Chan is utterly gorgeous. There's a faint red scar across the bridge of nose, crossing across his cheeks, but the strength that it implies only makes him more gorgeous. With how brightly your chest swells with affection, quickly replacing the fear, you knew you would find yourself entrapped by his beauty soon enough.
Exhaling a shaky sound, you try to push yourself closer with weak limbs. Chan feels you shift and tugs you closer with a whimper, nose pressing into your hair as a tremble of his own shakes through him. He inhales deeply, savoring the honeyed glimpse of your scent beneath the acrid taste of panic. 
“You caught me,” you tiredly whimper into his chest, collapsing with the last glimpses of adrenaline finally leaving you. 
From behind you, you feel more forms push closer. 
Felix sobs out a weepy sound, and you find yourself saddened that you don’t have the energy to send a wave of comfort to him. His warm skin presses against your side, pushing you closer to Chan as another form piles into your sweet embrace. You vaguely recognize Jeongin’s sweet aura as he clutches you from your other side. The youngest is crying, tears wetting the skin of your neck from where he pushes his head into the crevice beneath your jaw, but you don’t care.  
You can sense that Seungmin is not far behind. Unable to reach you from the depths of the clutches of his older partners, you manage to reach out a hand through the mess of tangled limbs. Seungmin grasps hold of the appendage with a tight grip, squeezing happily as he pushes his face into Jeongin’s neck. 
It’s not long before the rest of the pack descends on your pile. Clutching each other in a warm, muddled clutter of relieved bodies, the remaining wolves pull each other tight. The fear that previously radiated through the bond slowly seeps away to reveal sweet relief and comfort. 
Chan weeps a laugh at your words, chest shaking with the combination of it and a sob. His next words are spoken into your hair, lips pressing a short kiss to the threads with warmth radiating from his mouth. 
“Yeah, we caught ya, Pretty,” 
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When spring has finally settled in the forest, Lupin flowers blooming in bright hues of lavender and cornflower blue, you decide it’s finally time. Unbeknownst to you, the first few days of spring mark a shift between the werewolves. You can’t sense it, not with your human ability to smell. 
Mating season has begun. 
It keeps the werewolves high strung. The urge to incorporate you into the pack is stronger than ever. Every flash of your skin has them panting, and every hint of your arousal has their mouth watering. 
Hyunjin had been teasing you for weeks, playfully poking at you and trying to incite you into a final challenge. He managed to rope some of the others into his taunts, keeping the excitement of the chase fresh in your mind. 
Not long after you had settled into their lives, Felix had been the one to mention the mating mark. You had been eyeing the faded blush-colored scar with warmth in your gaze. Analyzing the teeth marks and attempting to identify which scars were the mark of incisors, you vaguely wonder whose teeth had left the mark. 
Felix’s lips had pulled into a wide grin when he noticed, pulling you closer to his bare chest with a laugh. His skin was warm against yours, and despite being subjected to their exposed skin in the weeks past, the notion of Felix's smooth, freckled skin still made you dizzy. With heat in your cheeks and ears burning, you buried your bashful look into the muscle of his chest in an attempt to hide from his prying eyes. 
“Baby!” he laughed, chest rumbling with the sound, “s’nothing to be embarrassed about. You can ask if you want.” 
From across the room, Hyunjin lifted his head from where it rested against the back of the couch. Jeongin, in between his legs - had too, raised his own head with interest in the conversation. 
“Yeah, Pretty – you can ask Chan-hyung to give you a mark of your own too,” the long-haired man mirthfully teased. Jeongin giggled in Hyunjin’s arms, his teeth shining when a grin stretched across his lips. The youngest’s own mark seemed to glimmer in the light when his loose shirt shifted across his clavicle. 
Your eyes followed the trail of teeth on Jeongin’s skin, spotting a second flash of teeth not far from the first. When Hyunjin titled his head, allowing his hair to fall away from his skin, you caught sight of the largest mark imprinted in the flesh to the side of his throat. Two more rosy rows of teeth rested in the smoothness of his skin aside the first.
You begin to wonder how many of these bite marks littered each of the wolves. 
Pulling your eyes from the ridges of Felix’s chest, you raised them to meet the teasing eyes of Hyunjin. “Do you all have them? The bite marks, I mean.” 
Hyunjin hums in response, a spark flickering across his gaze. His arms wind tighter across Jeongin’s chest at the reminder of how his partners have sunk their teeth into his skin. Face warming with the heat of the memory, his lids flutter with an indecent look.
“They’re mating marks,” Changbin cuts in, beside Hyunjin. His eyes were focused on the notebook in his hands, but he was clearly listening to your conversation. His dark eyes look up from the worn leather for a moment, catching yours with something similar to Hyunjin’s own arousal glimmering in the depths. 
“Mating marks?” Your tongue rolls carefully over the words. Spoken silently to yourself, your mind rolls with the implication. 
Felix’s chest rumbles with another answering hum. From where you lay on the floor beneath the couch, you feel something hot flash through the bond in a quick moment. It’s so fast you cannot tell from whom it originated. 
Minho is the next to fill in the blanks. Jisung is pressed tightly to his side, Seungmin not far, their eyes drawn to the television where they’re engaged in a fierce battle of Mario Kart. 
“When the bond is accepted and courting finishes, mating marks seal the connection between bonded packs. They lay claim over each other – everyone is bound to each other through ‘em.” 
A flush of heat fills your stomach. 
Something indecent rolls through your chest and you feel your skin becoming littered with pleasant goosebumps. You don’t know why the thought is so enticing. The thought of teeth pressing into your skin, claiming you once and for all, is something that makes your chest ache and your thighs rub together. 
Attempting to hide your interest, you look back into Felix’s chest, but your spiked acknowledgment is not missed by the others. If your bashful look doesn't give it away, the distant hum of arousal from the bond certainly does. New to the red string intertwining you with the wolves, you’re unable to stop the stronger waves of emotion from filtering through. 
Nonetheless, they wouldn’t need the bond to know you have become interested in the marks. The sweet, honeyed scent of arousal permeating the air and the twinge of your uncontrolled pheromones are evidence enough. 
Minho’s lips raise into a smirk. 
Catching the enticing scent, the wolf inside him howls with a challenge. 
“Oh,” his words drip with salacious undertones. “Are you interested, Pretty?” 
Your eyes dart up to meet him. Swallowing once, you attempt to speak around the lump that has risen in your throat. Suddenly feeling so small under his lowered, teasing eyes, you find yourself unable to respond. 
“Hm, I think she is, Hyung,” Jisung’s voice responds. He’s dropped his controller, looking away from the shining lights of the television at the sweet waves of your scent. His eyes have darkened, dilated pupils beginning to swell. 
Hyunjin soon joins the attack, leaning forward with Jeongin still clutched to his chest. 
“Yeah, I knew it. You want a mark of your own, Pretty Girl?” 
You withhold a whimper into Felix’s chest, but the silver blonde hears it anyway. His own shiver of arousal shaking through him, Felix clutches you tighter. He feels something stir in his gut, and the sharp sting of incisors press against his gums as he resists leaning forward to scrape the fangs across your flesh. 
When Chan steps through the doorway to the living room, the air is thick with the scent of arousal. 
Heart thumping and dominance surging, the pack leader hums to grab your attention. His eyes fall to your body, clutched tightly in Felix’s arms with your eyes wide and pulse racing. 
“S’going on in here?” 
Tension broken, eyes are immediately drawn to the Alpha. The air still simmers with pulses of lust, and Chan feels as though it will soon begin to drown him if he doesn’t do something soon. 
Minho is quick to respond, taking charge as second-in-command. “Angel was just telling us how much she wants a mating mark, Chan.” 
The pack leader’s aura flushes. 
Power radiates through the room, and the wolves feel Chan’s own surprised flood of dominance filter into the atmosphere. They’re under his command, tense and muscles ready to spring onto you at their Alpha’s command.
“S’that so, Pretty Baby?” 
You can’t look at him. Chan’s aura overflows with an assertive wave of power. He commands the room, and you fear if you meet his eyes, you’ll give in without the thrill of the chase. However, you do find yourself nodding into Felix's warm chest, making your consent well known. 
Not responding, Chan hums sweetly. With darkened irises and the pleasant hum of desire in his veins, Chan can feel his teeth push against his gums. His inner wolf howls to lay claim on you now, with your consent made apparent, all that’s left is to sink his teeth into your skin. 
But that would be too easy, wouldn’t it? 
Chan is quick to propose a final chase. 
One last race through the woods. With the mating mark made clear, the first to catch you can be the first to have you – of course, right after the Alpha lays claim. Chan will always get priority, even if he is not the one to capture you first. Though he severely doubts he won’t be. 
Everything happens so quickly. 
Felix pushes you gently off his chest, pulling you to your feet and guiding you towards your room. Well, you suppose it’s actually Chan’s room, but the leader has made it clear you have a place in it as much as he does. With a delicate command to prepare yourself, your heart begins to race with the familiar thrill of adrenaline - the good kind. 
You burrow through the mess of clothing in your drawers, a smirk pulls on the edges of your lips when you find what you’re looking for. After the incident with the vampire, Chan and the others had never seen your last gift. You had intended for that night to go so much differently, but you suppose now is as good of a time as any to present the pale pink lace of the lingerie. 
Tiny, rosy pink daisies litter the sheer fabric, intertwining with the blush and darkened hues of roses. Dark green stems connect the flowers, tastefully just covering the most indecent of places. The faint pink lace barely covers anything, and it’s by far the most lewd thing you’ve ever bought, let alone worn. 
When you slide it on, some sense of pride inflates your chest. It’s a fleeting feeling, one you find you don’t often experience in reference to your own body, but you thrive under its wave. It feels nice to admire your own skin and size for once, and you remind yourself to do it more often. Learning to love yourself is a hard road, but you hope you’ll learn to love your own skin soon. 
Choosing to forgo the complications of too much clothing, you slip on one of the boys’ oversize shirts. You can’t tell whose it is, as even their shirts run sizes too large so that they can be cut and loose, but the scents on it are familiar, as always. Hyunjin wore it last, that you can tell, and you hope the notion of nothing but lingerie beneath it will drive him mad. 
You honestly hope you’ll be caught quickly. Even despite the arousal and implication of mating marks, running with nothing but a large t-shirt is sure to cause your thighs some chafing. However, you cannot bring yourself to put anything else on, knowing the sentiment will make the chase more enticing. 
When you reenter the living room, all eight of the werewolves are standing. Murmuring amongst themselves, desire roaring in their stomachs, they turn to look at you when you enter the room. 
“Oh fuck,” Changbin murmurs, mouth going dry at the sight. He has to readjust his pants to hide the growing problem between his thighs. Cursing under his breath, running with a boner is sure to be a pain. 
“Hm, our little tease, isn’t she?” Minho coos, voice dripping with filthy undertones. 
Hyunjin nearly purrs at the expanse of your bare legs. Eyes scanning every inch of your exposed flesh, he feels his spine shake with a familiar arousal. 
“You wearing anything under that, Pretty?” 
Despite the weight of their dominating auras, you manage a hum in response to Hyunjin. “Mhm! It’s the present Binnie asked for.” 
Changbin snarls at your words, chest vibrating as he feels another bolt of heat twist his gut. Imaging the pretty pink lace underneath the darkness of your shirt, he and Hyunjin know exactly of the gift you speak of. Felix too, rumbles pleasantly at the reminder of your meeting so long ago. 
“Present?” Jisung murmurs in question. 
Changbin hums his gruff, deep response. “You remember her last ‘gift’? I asked her to wear something pink next time - Chan-hyung’s favorite and all.” 
The pack leader goes weak in the knees with a lusty groan. His eyes close and his head knocks back at his lover’s words. The reminder of the tiny pair of panties clutched in his fist, now imagining them pink and stained with your arousal, has his mind finally drowning a ferocious desire. 
“Oh Baby, you’ve done it now,” Chan’s deepened tone coos. When his eyes open, brown hair falling across his forehead and highlighting the red scar across his nose, there’s a fire burning brightly in the depths. “You sure you want this? Once we start, I won’t be able to stop myself, Sweetheart – not now that I know what’s under that pretty dress.” 
Your nod is immediate. You’ve never been more sure of anything. These eight wolves are yours now, just as much as you are theirs. Chest thumping, Chan purrs a hum in response. 
“Don’t make it too easy then, Pretty,” Chan murmurs, nose grazing your skin as he leans in close. “Gonna ruin you when I catch you - gotta’ savor our prize right?” 
And the final chase begins. 
They have given you a head start. Just two minutes, but it’s enough time to clear some distance between you. They aren’t wolves this time – just humans, but supernatural humans with enhanced senses and incredible speed and strength. They’ll still be able to catch up quickly. 
You know there’s not much you can do when it comes to hiding this time. With how strong your arousal thrums between your thighs, there’s no chance they won’t be able to seek you out by scent alone. 
Leaping over a fallen branch, you pant heavily with a wide grin on your face. Probably looking a little insane as you race through the woods with a manic smile, clad in nothing but a black shirt and lingerie beneath it, you laugh freely into the spring air. 
You don't know how much distance you’ve put between you and the pack house, unable to keep track of time since Chan had started the chase. Regardless, you continue pushing your calves to run through the trees with your chest sizzling with the familiar buzz of adrenaline. 
Only a few moments later, you hear excited hoots and shouts fill the air.
Your two minutes are up. 
Excitement bursting again, you force yourself faster. You know it won’t be long before they catch up, but you want to give them a chase worthy of being called the last. 
Distantly, you feel one of them tug on the bond, chest being pulled in their direction, but you ignore it. Dirty tricks didn't work before, and they wouldn’t now. Allowing a smirk to pull at your lips, you continued to race, kicking up dirt from the earthen ground. 
You feel him as soon as he breaks through the tree line at your back. Minho, second-in-command, was one of the fastest of the wolves in their human forms. Now, driven mad by you, he has a mission in mind as he pursues your racing form. 
You don’t have to turn to know he’s behind you. 
He’s closing on your fast, his strides longer than yours and heart pumping just as quick. You barely have the conscious mind to consider your options, but vaguely you wonder if the same trick will work twice. You can tell he’s a few steps in front of the others, so you’ll only have a moment’s chance if it’s to work. 
As Minho descends on you, breath in your throat as his hand reaches out, you lunge to the side again. Your heart leaps, skipping a pulse as Minho skids on his feet. He barely manages to catch himself before he falls, cursing loudly at your cheap trick. 
“Hah! I can’t believe you fell for it again!” 
A growl loosens from Minho’s chest, and he’s running after you again. 
Escaping Minho has allowed you a moment to maintain the distance between the boys, though it’s still not much. They’re still hot at your heels, fueled by carnal desire and thoughts of your skin beneath their hands. Heat still sizzles between your thighs, and you feel the lining of your panties dampen at the sound that escapes Minho’s chest. 
Distantly, you hear another let out a groaning sound, as if they smell the arousal slowly leaking from between your thighs. The thought makes you lightheaded. 
Another laugh leaving your lips, you duck under a low hanging branch, the boys hot at your heels. Confident in your lead, you allow yourself to miss the missing aura that is missing behind you. With your mind focused on keeping ahead of the werewolves, you’ve missed an alarmingly crucial clue: there are only seven auras behind you. 
You're smart. Hyunjin had Minho had both conveyed this when they returned from their individual chases. Able to outmaneuver them both, they were impressed by your ingenuity. 
Yet, even despite your intelligence, you could not outsmart Chan. 
Instead of joining his pack, pushing you from behind as the others had, Chan burned with the passion that would guarantee his success; and he chose another route. 
You don’t see him coming. 
Racing through the pines, his arms pumping and veins fueled with a primal lust, Chan had taken off in the other direction. Your scent clinging to his senses, he swears he can already taste the sweet arousal that leaks into your panties. A smirk tugging at his lips, Chan races for you head on. 
He pursues you from the front, rather than behind. Seeming to know exactly what routes you would take through the forest, he knew precisely where he could cut you off. 
When his panting, muscular form breaks through the trees in front of you, your slam to a stop on your feet. Skidding an inch, you pant with widened, surprised eyes. Chan stands in front of you, pupils blown and dark, sweat dripping across his forehead and down the bridge of his nose, smearing along the red scar. 
His muscular biceps bulge in his tight, black shirt, and your mouth waters at the sight. You only have half a moment to take him in before his smirk deepens and he pushes off the balls of his feet, lunging for you. A growl pulls from deep within his chest and you squeal as you try to dodge his strong hands. 
Your efforts are futile. Even as you attempt to evade his grip, twisting as you make for the forest, Chan’s already moving - quicker and stronger than you. Of course, if you had half a mind to focus on it, the thought of his superior size and strength would drive you wild, but you didn’t have the chance. 
“Chan!” you squeal, squirming as you attempt to wiggle out of his grip, wanting to continue the chase and feel the adrenaline pumping through you. The Alpha groans deeply when his name falls from your lips, already imagining the sound twisted into gasps of pleasure. Head knocking back, Chan’s muscles bulge as he wraps you in his grasp. 
Your skin hot against his, Chan moans out a sweet sound that has your stomach turning. His biceps flex under your squirming, and it’s so enticing to feel how he manhandles you into his chest. One strong hand manages to grasp both your wrists, pulling them behind your back as he tugs you close. Your back against his front, hands in his grip, Chan hums pleasantly with you now trapped in his hold. 
“Yeah, s’it, Pretty Baby – say my name.” 
Your knees weaken. 
Unable to move in Chan’s tight grip, you’re left defenseless to the seven wolves that soon descend. 
Unsurprisingly, Hyunjin is the next to capture you. The taller man’s figure leans over yours with a daunting smirk, his eyes shining with carnality. His chest pushing against your front, Hyunjin’s head leans over yours and you’re forced to look up at him when his hand reaches out. Thin fingers expanding over your throat, Hyunjin applies a little pressure to your neck, exhaling a groaning sound when you whimper.
“Dirty girl,” he purrs, fingers tightening across your throat in a pleasant pressure that makes your head spin. Hyunjin’s grin is wild as he does so, finding the sounds you let out make his chest swell with pride. “I told you I’d catch you next time, didn’t I?” 
You think you might leak through your pretty pink underwear. Legs trembling and head turning, eyes barely able to keep hold of Hyunjin’s lusty ones, you barely realize when the others join the fun. 
Minho, obviously holding a little grudge from missing you twice, is at your right. His hands are hot to the touch. Chan laughs a cocky chuckle when his second-in-command immediately drops to his knees. Minho rolls his eyes, lips already leaning forward to press into the skin of the inside of your knee. When you squirm, legs visibly shaking at the touch of Minho’s soft, full lips on your bare skin, his hand drifts higher. Gripping your thigh tight in his big hand, he murmurs his next words directly into the skin of your thigh.
“Stop squirming, Angel.” 
You whine again, head knocking back with a keen. Going limp in their hold, your head rests against Chan’s collarbone. The pack leader smirks in victory. He loves watching the bashful look on your face twist into something darker. 
“Hannie,” Minho commands, not looking away from his place on his knees, “Come help me, will you?” 
Jisung does not hesitate. Taking your other side, his hand slides around your waist to squeeze you once. Then, with a salacious grin at the dripping honey smell of your arousal, his hands drop. Sliding pleasantly down your stomach in between you and Hyunjin - of course, taking a moment to run gently over the skin of Hyunjin’s stomach - Jisung’s hands slide beneath the fabric of your shirt. 
This time, Jisung lets out an obscene sound when the tips of his fingers graze the soft lace wrapped around your hips. 
“Fuck, Baby,” he murmurs with a whining sound. Fingers drift, lifting the hem of your shirt higher, allowing Minho a glimpse of the fabric that lay beneath. He pushes closer, face lifting until his head is level with your hips, which are pushed against Hyunjin’s. The taller man groans when Minho’s hand comes up, cock twitching when his lover’s fingers toy with the bulge in his pants. When he leans away a little, leaving space for Minho to dive between, only your chest remains pressed against Hyunjin. 
Before Jisung has a moment to explore further, Seungmin reaches from behind, his fingers lightning quick as they rip your shirt upwards. Eight sounds of approval sound out when the material is lifted above your chest, allowing them a first look at the pretty pink lingerie you’ve chosen. 
Chan, however, does not have the best angle to see the sweet panties you’ve chosen for him with Seungmin lifting the shirt in front of his face. With a disgruntled sound, his eyes lift to Hyunjin’s, grinding his hips forward into your backside as he does so. You keen, and Hyunjin smiles. 
“Pretty Boy, keep her hands out of the way f’me.” 
Then, Chan releases his grip on your wrists and pushes them around to your front, where Hyunjin’s waiting grasp wraps securely around them once more. Now in Hyunjin’s hold, Chan has both hands free, and he doesn’t waste a second. Exchanging a look with Seungmin, Chan’s hands lift to grasp both sides of the color of your shirt. Biceps flexing, the pack leader grips the material tight and then tears it down the middle. 
His display of strength has you lightheaded.
Now exposed, the eight can admire the sweet little bra that adorns your chest. Tits practically spilling from the material, Chan hums pleasantly, his eyes going hazy. By now, he feels the growing need to release his dick from his pants, unable to take the throbbing against the tight material. Changbin shares the sentiment, the three remaining men finding the means to occupy themselves with each other. Felix is already under Changbin’s grip, his eyes having trouble drifting back and forth from you and his dark haired partner. 
Chan growls pleasantly at the sight of the pink lingerie, one of his hands sliding around to join Jisung in toying with the hem of the rosy panties. Minho’s lips are on your inner thigh, and he sucks in a heated breath when he catches a taste of your arousal on his tongue. Fingers inch closer, his forefingers rubbing gently across the thin material that separates him from your slit. Rubbing a teasing circle, your head knocks back again.
Yeah, you manage to think - they’re definitely stained now. 
“Oh, fuck me,” Chan murmurs, voice dripping with honey. “Look s’good in pink, Angel.” 
Minho hums in agreement, teeth skimming across your thigh. It trembles under the glimpse of his sharp incisors, and Minho mirthfully laughs. He knows exactly where he wants to put his mark. It’s a favorite of his, apparently, if the mating marks on Jisung, Hyunjin and Felix’s thighs have anything to say. 
“Better take a deep breath, Pretty,” Hyunjin murmurs directly into your ear, lips grazing the shell. “M’gonna fuck ya stupid when Chan’s done with you.” 
Chan laughs when you whine, and when Hyunjin’s hand slides away from your throat, they’re quickly replaced with the feeling of Chan’s teeth scraping across the skin. You squirm under him, feeling both so heavy and so light at the same time. You swear the combined touch from them will kill you. 
Felix seems to think similarly, a whine of his own skipping from his lips when Jeongin’s hand slides beneath the button of his jeans. The youngest smirks, obviously enjoying having Felix weak under his touch. However, he’s interrupted when Changbin slides his own hand down the younger’s back, making Jeongin shiver. You desperately want to open your eyes - to look at the blonde when he makes such pretty sounds, but you’re prevented when Chan playfully nibbles on the skin of your throat. They’ll have their turn with you soon. 
“Watch her, Lixie,” Changbin murmurs. Your skin seems to heat even hotter, and you feel as though you’ll pass out under their eyes. “She’ll be falling apart on Chan’s cock soon, don’t ya wanna’ watch?” 
The sentiment of the pack Alpha’s teeth against you strikes with a heated stir of your stomach: Chan’s going to claim you, just as the rest of them will. And though you don’t have the teeth to leave a permanent mark of your own, you are sure you’ll leave plenty of fading ones on their skin too. 
They’re yours now, just as much as you are theirs. 
You lean back into Chan with eyes closing out of ecstasy, despite only being teased so far. The leader smirks and you feel it on your throat. Jisung finally grows tired of toying with the fabric between his fingers and finally peels them away from your hips, giving way for Minho's lips to explore new territory. Chan feels his dick twitch when Minho lets out a pleased groan at your taste, finally able to suck you into his mouth as he wants. 
“Yeah, you like that, Baby?” Chan hums, teeth scraping over your skin, finding the place where he wants to sink them beneath the flesh. It won’t hurt, he knows. Rather, he thinks you’ll quite like the rush of pleasure that comes from a werewolf’s bite. “Get ready, Pretty - I caught ya,’ and m’not gonna be gentle.” 
Teeth sharpening and incisors sliding forward, Chan angles his head so that his mating mark will be candid for all to see. 
“You're ours now.” 
His teeth sink in. 
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bonus: 
reader, sitting with the dewdrops at dawn!reader: ... 
reader: so,,, demons?
dewdrops at dawn!reader, nodding: werewolves? 
reader, also nodding: ...
dewdrops at dawn!reader: ... 
reader: are we monster fuckers? 
a/n: listen,,, I like skz, okay? this is totally not like 20k words written in a daze of hard hours, I swear. 
ngl tho sometime when I was writing this fic I was like omfg this is so ‘2013 wattpad girl’ of me,,, like sometimes I’d write a sentence and try not to think about the cringy werewolf fics I used to read xD either way I really like the concept of the supernatural and wolf chan is always in the back of my brain so this is what followed that brain rot. 
p.s!! did anyone catch the references to dewdrops at dawn? I had to connect the universes somehow xD I hope you guys enjoyed them <3
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snaccpopstudios · 4 months
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Long time, no see, Tumblr!
Hello Everyone! It’s been a while, and we’re so sorry about the silence on our blog! But we have some big, important updates to share with you all. The entire team has been extremely busy with both personal, real-life responsibilities and with game production! On top of this, we have also had a big change in management and production, so we’ve been getting a handle on that at the same time.
I’ll start this by stating that I’m Tobias (he/him), the new social media and community manager, and I’ll be bringing this update to you all! And, all Patreon links provided (minus the ones near the end) are public posts, so you don’t need to be subscribed to a tier to view them, but you still need to be 18+! Now, this goes a bit back, so get a warm drink and get comfy to read this big post because if you haven’t been on the Twitter or Patreon, you’ve missed quite a lot (which is on us entirely! We’re sorry again!) In September 2023, we released a few screenshots on our Patreon showing off some script revisions for the demo of “Something’s Wrong with Sunny Day Jack.” (read them + the update more in detail here!: https://www.patreon.com/posts/sunny-day-jack-90099502) As stated in that post, “A lot of grammatical errors, run-on sentences, etc.. are also being combed out in favor of: - Content that foreshadows future events in the game - Content that is easier to read - And content that more clearly portrays the rules, lore, and restrictions of the supernatural/horror elements in this world
Additionally, more content in general, will be added. Not a substantial amount, but enough to flesh out scenes and make things make more sense now that the world/game has been almost completely outlined.” This post was met with a lot of confusion, as SDJ fans mentioned that they feared the game was being toned down from its original concept. And while our re-writes do actively remove dialogue that unintentionally may be perceived as dubious consent or pressuring the player into sexual/romantic choices, there are no intentions to remove yandere/horror content! We cleared this all up in another Patreon post; a small QnA (here’s that one, again, more in detail!: https://www.patreon.com/posts/q-yandere-is-to-91034309). 
You may be saying “But Tobias! On the Kickstarter, it said there was soft, dubious consent!” And yes, that is true. However, as stated in the 2nd link provided, Our publisher at the time, Project Enso, originally put that warning up. Sauce (they/them) was not happy with that, but PE properly explained that people who were uncomfortable with the infamous "No Route" hadn't had that warning, and thus felt surprised.
This twitter post was the beginning of Sauce’s quest to remove that warning. (https://x.com/SunnyDayJack/status/1560782320533118976?s=20)
[Disclaimer: PE had nothing to do with the writing of the content. They just had to do what was safest!]
Now, you may have noticed that at the beginning of this post, I mentioned a big change in management. In a post made on Patreon in late October 2023, we got introduced to our new Director, Biscuit (she/her)! She’s previously made devlogs on the Patreon, but she’s since been made the Head of Operations for SnaccPop! These are big and important posts, so I really recommend reading them (as well as the previous posts I’ve linked) in their entirety on the Patreon! - Status Update: New leadership, steps moving forward, future of SnaccPop: https://www.patreon.com/posts/status-update-of-91558879 - Q&A: Project Enso departure, AphroDesia, Deadlines and more: https://www.patreon.com/posts/q-project-enso-91850042
But the main points of these two posts above are, 
Sauce will no longer be taking a management role at SnaccPop anymore. Instead, they will take a much necessary backstep to focus solely on creating art and supporting the studio through their continuous work.
The studio has Biscuit as its front-facing figure, but she will be helped out by Perrie (she/her, our current Voice Acting director), Nana (she/her, our current Art director), and other individuals who are key to keeping the content going smoothly at a decent pace. 
SWWSDJ is no longer being released as a full game in November 2024, and is now having Episodic Releases! (Acts 1, 2, 3, and 4)
The Patreon rewards will remain entirely the same. Sauce, as it has been said before, will keep working with us all the way!
Some of you may be wondering what happened with Project Enso and why we parted ways with them, you can read their parting message here: https://www.patreon.com/posts/official-from-92484578
We want to say thank you to Project Enso for all the great work they did for us, however, we believe this decision is the best next step forward to make Sunny Day Jack as best of a game as it can be.
Now, onto some fun stuff! Speed round!
An AphroDesia Game?! The customer is always right! But that doesn't mean that they're necessarily pleasant to deal with…   Available to our $10+ Patreon supporters, you can play a demo of the upcoming mini dating-sim featuring our beloved cutie-pie, TMon, called “ConciUrges.” Featuring 4 endings, two of which are NSFW!
Bachelor of the Month is back! We’re introducing our new icy, and first plus-sized bachelor for the month of December, Jacob Frost (who’s voice has yet to be revealed, but his look has been!) He’s draped out in front of a cozy fireplace, waiting for you to get to know him for $5+~
Another SDJ Demo? You betcha! We understand that there's been lots and lots of content for Sunny Day Jack, and that includes multiple demos that we've released in the past. However, we want to release one last demo. One that includes our new artstyle and script changes that reflect our ideology much more clearly so there aren't any doubts as we move into the future. The release date is TBD!
WE'RE HIRING!! Are you an 18+ NSFW writer and/or an audio engineer? Then you're the person(s) for us! Apply for the position(s) on the Patreon post or the Twitter post!  THE POSISTION IS ONLY FOR THOSE 18+. PROOF OF AGE WILL BE REQUIRED.
Project: DramaBoy As stated in the above linked posts in #5 (more in detail on the Patreon link!) We’re starting up a new project, Project: DramaBoy! As an explanation to non-paying patrons who may have missed our upload of our first teaser (Impish BF Surprises You on Christmas),  we'll be looking to release (hopefully) weekly NSFW and SFW POV Boyfriend audios! Sometimes they'll include characters you know and love-- such as Jambee or Sunny Day Jack. However-- sometimes, they'll include interesting beta concepts voiced by the same VAs from our mainstay projects! Read all about it and see the SLIVER of the list of BFs we’re planning to bring you at https://www.patreon.com/posts/project-dramaboy-94652067 (available to read for free!)
That's all for this update! We know it's lengthy and long overdue, so thank you for your continued support and for taking the time to read! ^_^
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jodsx1x · 11 months
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hi!!! can i ask for prompt 4?? love u 💞💞
''stop looking at me like that''
summary ❥: when you catch feelings for derek, you distance yourself in hopes that he will leave you alone so you can get over this crush. he does no such thing.
“do you want to come back to the loft after this?” he asks me, hope in his eyes that i might say yes. my heart screams yes, my head says no. i gulp, turning my face away from him as i say, “i’m sorry, i have a lot of studying to do” i reply, trying to act unbothered and natural. his eyes drop down to the table as he nods, “okay” with a lace of sadness in his voice.
my heart breaks, wanting nothing more than to go back to the loft and have one of our weekly movie nights. derek and i have been really close for over a year now, i called him my best friend. everything was perfect, he was perfect. he still is perfect. but that’s the problem. i had to be so stupid, and catch some stupidly strong feelings for him. knowing he only sees me as his best friend, i have to keep away from him to be able to get over these feelings.
just when i think i’m making progress, i see him again and all of those feelings flood back. so the thought of spending time alone with him freaks me out, knowing my feelings will only get stronger and stronger for him. i may even be in love with him. no. i can’t say that, it’s just a crush. it will go away.
focusing my attention back onto scott, i can feel dereks stare on my back. i take a deep breath, ignoring that feeling and ignoring his gaze. any normal person would just confess their feelings, and if they don’t feel the same way back, they get over it. but i can’t do that, because i won’t be able to even be in the same room as him if he rejects me.
scott finishes up his inspirational speech, meaning everyone started to pile out of the animal clinic. i start the small walk to my car, feeling somebody behind me. i turn my head quickly, looking at my follower.
of course. derek.
“you okay?” i say, fiddling with my thumbs.
“why do you all of a sudden not want to spend time with me? did i do something?” he spits out, a stressed look on his face. i cross my arms to protect myself, “you didn’t do anything. i’m just busy” i lied. well half lied. it’s not his fault i have these feelings. well maybe it is, because he’s too charming for his own good.
“do you forget that i can tell when you’re lying? we’ve been best friends for years, i don’t need supernatural hearing to know when you’re lying” he states, stepping closer to me.
i step back. “just leave me alone, derek. i’m fine” i say quickly, turning around and rushing to my car with tears welling up in my eyes. locking the doors, i sit in my car and cover my face. sniffling, i wipe my eyes and start the engine. driving past, derek eyes are on mine from his car, his brows furrowed and his eyes soft. he never liked when i cried, so i forced him a smile and sped off to my house.
❥❥❥❥❥❥❥
i place my laptop beside me on the bed, with a sigh. when i told derek i was studying, i wasn’t lying. i just finished up a 3 hour studying session and my head is throbbing. i turned up the volume on my tv, playing ‘friends’ my all time favourite comfort show.
i’ve never felt more empty than i do tonight. knowing that i could be with derek at his loft, in my happy, safe place. but instead i’m here, wallowing in my own feelings and misery. i’ve never felt this way about someone, ever. knowing i am going to lose him either way is more painful than i could’ve imagined.
i was brought out of my thoughts from a knock on my window. i furrowed my eyebrows, turning my head over to look outside. and there he is. propped up on the roof outside, tapping on my window as i slowly walked over. i sigh, opening the window.
“can i come in?” he asks, and my mind says to say no. tell him to leave.
“okay” i say, listening to my heart finally.
he climbs through the window, walking over and sitting on the edge of my bed as i shut the window and curtains again. ‘please talk to me’ he starts, with a pleading look on his face.
my arms fall from their cross over my chest as i let out a defeated sigh. i probably should just do it. i might feel better after admitting them to him.
‘look, i have a reason why i can’t spend time with you anymore. and if i tell you, i don’t even think you’ll want to spend time with me’ i say, with a glance at my feet.
‘you know nothing would ever make that happen for me, beautiful’ he says, clenching my heart.
‘i think it would, which is why i’m afraid to tell you in case the whole friendship gets ruined’ i say shyly, twisting my ring around my finger.
‘either way it’s ruined. if i leave now and we don’t talk about this, it’s ruined. so you might as well just tell me, and who knows, maybe i feel the same’ he says with the slightest smirk on his lips. i narrow my eyes at him, red tinting over my cheeks and nose.
‘what do you mean?’ i say, barely above a whisper.
‘i said,’ he starts, scooting closer to me on the edge of the bed, ‘maybe i feel the same’.
i gulp, suddenly aware of how close our faces are. he looks handsome tonight. he’s in all black, his hair a little messy over his forehead, green eyes a little red from the cold air.
‘stop looking at me like that’ he mumble with a small smile. i blush again.
‘why?’ i say back.
‘because it’s making me want to kiss you’ he admits, a small pink blush covering his cheeks. i made derek hale blush.
‘i wouldn’t stop you’ i manage to gain enough confidence to get that out.
he turns to me more, his hands gripping my hips and pulls me closer to him. his head starts to duck down to me, his pretty eyes fluttering shut. my hands move up to rest on his face, thumbs resting just on his cheekbones and my palms rested on his jawline.
i close the gap between us, lips parting as they touch but closing as they do touch. ohmygod. his lips are like velvet, soft and gentle. one of his hands trails up my back a little to pull me impossibly closer to him. i hum against his lips, hands wrapping around his neck.
my heart is beating faster than ever before. my face feels hot and i feel light headed. i’ve never felt this way with anyone before over a kiss.
he eventually pulls back for some air, resting his warm forehead onto mine as we catch our breath with giddy smiles on our faces.
‘if you couldn’t tell, i like you too’ he grins, pressing a small, chaste kiss to my forehead.
‘how did you know i like you?’ i asked, as his hands move from my wait to grip my own and interlock our fingers. he looks away for a second with a weird look on his face, ‘well i kind of had a talk with lydia’ he admits, side eyeing me as i furrowed my eyebrows.
‘the only reason she told me was because she knew i liked you too. she told me to come over and just do this, aren’t you glad she did?’ he says with a small smile, causing me to nod.
‘of course i’m glad’ i giggle. he pulls me closer again, hands looking behind my back, pressing another small kiss to my lips.
“so, does this mean i can call you my girlfriend?” he smirks. i go red, nodding embarrassingly quickly at him.
“hm. good” he kisses me again.
———————
a little random fic whilst i work through my inbox. thankyou for all the requests. i love you guys and i missed this.
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spookyserenades · 1 year
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Trouvaille - Chapter Four
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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; 20.6k
Trouvaille Masterlist
Trouvaille playlist
Updates on the 7th of each month
Hello darling readers, it's Dana! Happy April, I am so excited to bring you this month's update; Chapter Four! We're picking up exactly where we left off, and there's lots going on in this chapter. Expect a bit more paranormal happenings in this chapter, particularly towards the end (nothing TOO frightening, but I figured I'd warn in advance) Of course, we have a few moments of angst, a handful of flirtatious banter, and a lot more information revealed about the hybrids themselves. As always, I love to hear from readers; comments or questions! Please know that I will answer each response in time, I am currently going through an emotional time with my family 💜 The taglist is still open, as well. Without further ado, please enjoy this update, and thank you so much for reading and supporting my work!
Previous Chapter // Next Chapter
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Immediately, Y/N could see Namjoon recognized the relation between her and her mother– if he was taken aback, it didn’t show. However, his face completely changed like night and day as he broke out into a fond grin at her mother after a beat. 
After a split second of deduction, Y/N figured that apparently, her mother was who Namjoon knew at the library. Feeling completely out of place as her mother hurried from out behind the desk and gave Namjoon a tearful hug, Y/N was positively flabbergasted. What were the chances of Y/N adopting a hybrid her mother knew? The book club, by law of the state, could only accept adopted hybrid members, and until a few nights ago, Namjoon was very much unadopted. 
“You came by every day! I thought something bad may have happened to you,” her mother broke free from the hug slightly, wiping a tear from her eye as she assessed Namjoon, like she was searching for injuries. 
Namjoon tilted his head, her mother right about that– he had landed in Boston’s “finest” shelter after being dragged off the street in his wolf form. Unadopted, it was likely that Namjoon had found a way to put up a front about his situation and was somehow found out later on. Her mother couldn’t have been the one to report Namjoon judging by her genuine relief upon seeing him, Y/N thought, but the missing explanation on how he had gotten into the book club in the first place was piquing Y/N’s curiosity the most. 
“I’m alright,” Namjoon replied, rich voice muffled by the velvet shawl covering her mother’s shoulder. “Something… came up,” he added as he pulled away, eyes darting from Y/N to her mother, seemingly examining similarities and differences in their features. Her mother frowned sympathetically but did not pry, seemingly knowing better than to do so with Namjoon. As if just remembering Y/N was standing there gawking at the pair of them, her mother pressed a hand to her chest. 
“Oh, honey, I forgot to call your hybrid’s name over the intercom, I’m sorry, Namjoon, one moment…” her mother rushed back behind the desk, Namjoon raising his eyebrows at Y/N, who was floundering under his pointed gaze. “What was his name?”
“Uh, mom. It’s alright. Namjoon is the said hybrid,” Y/N scratched the back of her head, Namjoon clearly unimpressed she had panicked right away not being able to find him. Her mother was instantly confused, looking from her to Namjoon with suspicion. Expecting her to make an elaborate spectacle, Y/N braced herself, only to be met with her mother’s careful composure. 
“Huh. Snuck past the law, didn’t you, you smart boy,” her mother reached out to ruffle Namjoon’s hair, dimples appearing in the wolf hybrid’s cheeks, because of course he had them. Her mother then squeezed Y/N’s shoulder, adding, “This is my daughter I’ve mentioned before, which I’m assuming you’ve gathered by now. And you can return to the book club again, I need your help leading the discussions once more. They’ve been a bit uninspiring since your absence.”
Namjoon appeared to glow under her mother’s praise, but Y/N thought she may have been buttering him up a bit too much. Her mother had a knack for flattery. There was also the unspoken that hung around the atmosphere, her mother’s lack of interrogation and swift acceptance forming a pit in Y/N’s stomach. Usually, she’d be the type to pry out every detail of how Y/N had managed to become acquainted with Namjoon, but shockingly her mother refrained, seemingly occupied in rummaging around in the returns rack. She pulled out a book from behind the desk, handing it to Namjoon: Wuthering Heights. 
“This is the book we’re reading for the next two weeks. Started it yesterday, so the others don’t have too much of a head start yet,” her mother folded her arms over her chest, looking particularly smug that they were reading one of Y/N’s favorite books as she noticed the eager grin growing on her daughter’s face. “You can ask Y/N just about any question you have about that particular book and she’ll bring out all ten of the essays she’s written on it.”
“Jesus, mom. Exaggeration much?” Y/N scoffed, watching Namjoon carefully tuck the book under his arm. “I only wrote two essays on it,” she muttered under her breath, unable to deny her great obsession for everything Bronte circa her college days. 
“Excuse me, I’m scheduled to meet someone for an interview here at 10, but I’m not sure where I’m supposed to go?” A young man anxiously gripping a map interrupted the conversation by catching the attention of her mother behind the desk. 
“Oh, you must be Joseph! I’ll take you up to the office myself,” her mother exclaimed, glancing at Y/N and Namjoon. “I’ll see you two on Friday, alright? Y/N, honey, don’t put that salt on the windowsills, it’ll stain the finish,” she added, motioning for Joseph to follow her around the desk. 
With that, she was gone in an instant, leaving Y/N with a hybrid who still seemed to resent the fact that she thought he had run away. Tucking a piece of hair behind her ear, Y/N started to sweat under the beret she was wearing, cursing her wardrobe choices that morning already. 
“Uh… well, your introduction to my mother was less painful than it was when she stopped by to meet the others yesterday,” Y/N began thoughtfully, spinning around to face Namjoon, all imposing height and narrowed, probing eyes. Her stomach turned uncomfortably, reminding her she had yet to eat anything that morning. “Come on, Namjoon, I’ll buy you a pastry from the cafe here,” she motioned towards the small counter at the front of the library littered with small bistro tables, comfortably walled off by planter partitions.
With an arched brow, Namjoon sucked in his cheeks as he reluctantly followed Y/N to the counter, ears turned flat against his skull. The woman working by the oven was pulling out a fresh batch of cinnamon rolls, the saccharine scent of buttery confection making Y/N nearly swoon. Fishing around in her bag, she pulled out her wallet, promptly ordering a cinnamon roll and an espresso for herself. Catching Namjoon gazing at the cherry pie displayed in a glass cake stand, she thought about getting him a slice before thinking the better of it. He seemed like the type to want to order his own food. 
“Hiya, Namjoon! The usual?” The cheery woman from behind the counter gave Namjoon a kindly smile, placing a tiny cup under the espresso machine for Y/N. Brightening up a bit, Namjoon nodded, crowding behind Y/N as the woman added a hot black coffee and a slice of cherry pie to Y/N’s order. Forking over the cash, she waited silently at the end of the counter with Namjoon for his pie to be heated up in the oven. 
He hadn’t said anything to her directly since they were in the car. Namjoon must have had questions, simply because Y/N knew she had her own fair share, but he seemed to be in no hurry to voice them as he plucked a brown leaf off of the potted plant sitting at the end of the counter. Once Namjoon had his mug and pie balanced in his hands, Y/N found a little table for two vacant at the corner of the cafe. Seated across from Namjoon, taking what seemed to be a soul-satisfying sip of coffee with his eyes closed, Y/N found she had forgotten every question she was going to ask him. Shrugging, she dove into her cinnamon roll, still hot from the oven and practically melting in her mouth. 
“What’s that salt for?” Namjoon asked suddenly, using the side of his fork to collect a bite of pie on the utensil. He gave a pointed look to Y/N’s tote bag as he chewed his pie, ignoring the surprise on her face. 
“Hmm. If I said it's for witchcraft, what would be your response?” Y/N decided to answer truthfully, with the knowledge of him likely being able to sniff out a lie in the forefront of her mind. If he called her crazy, she could handle that, but a liar was something she no longer wished to be with any of the hybrids. In fact, she’d planned on coming clean with the others about the ghost sighting in the house later that afternoon when she got the chance. 
Namjoon, sipping his coffee thoughtfully as he scanned her face, seemed to consider her words carefully. Setting his mug down, he sat back in his chair with a sigh. 
“I already knew your mother was a witch, she told me– not that it was very difficult to piece together. So, it makes sense you practice too… but that doesn’t really answer my question. What, exactly, do you need black salt for? Protection from something?” Namjoon clarified, with particular emphasis on the last question. 
Opening and closing her mouth, Y/N abruptly drained her espresso cup for some kind of a lifeline, not expecting Namjoon to be so direct or even have knowledge about the uses of black salt. He nonchalantly went back to enjoying his pie, waiting patiently for her explanation. 
“Okay, sure. It’s for protection, I think the house is overdue for some cleansing and some boundaries to keep a few uninvited guests… out,” Y/N toed around the issue as honestly as possible without including the word ghosts, deciding it was a little strange to be discussing something like that in a library cafe. Returning to her cinnamon roll, she chased some icing at the edge of the plate with a crispy layer of pastry. Y/N had yet to plan out the exact ritual she was going to conduct, fleetingly wishing that she had her mother’s old spellbook at the house to consult. 
“I read a lot about modern witchcraft here. I didn’t know all too much about it before I met your mother at the book club,” Namjoon confessed, crumpling up his napkin on his empty pie plate. “If I hadn’t seen certain things myself, I’d write it all off as new-age garbage.”
Tilting her head, Y/N’s curiosity had climbed tenfold. For someone so burly and serious looking, Namjoon’s apparent interest in the occult came as a great surprise. Not to mention, she desperately wanted to ask about what “things” Namjoon had referenced seeing to make him a believer at all. It didn’t seem like the time nor place, however.
“Namjoon, not to change the subject, but how were you able to get into the book club?” Y/N blurted out the first thing that came to mind, distantly hoping he wasn’t withholding any embarrassing stories her mother had relayed to him about her daughter. 
“You mean, while I was unadopted,” Namjoon returned bluntly, holding his hand up in response to Y/N offering a piece of her cinnamon roll. “It was easy enough, I created a fake certificate on one of the computers in the lab here after seeing a flier for the book club nailed to a telephone pole.” 
“Oh,” was all Y/N could think to say, the explanation much simpler than she had anticipated, feeling silly that she had asked at all. Pushing her plate away, she again wondered how he had ended up in the shelter considering her mother knew him well enough to be so moved by his absence. Someone must have ratted him out, but who, and how did they even find out about his forged certificate? 
“Should we get going?” Namjoon interrupted her internal dialogue, his chair scraping against the floor as he collected their cups, plates, and his book. Scrambling to her feet, Y/N tried her best to keep up with Namjoon’s long strides, almost falling over upon seeing his beautiful smile directed at the woman behind the counter. 
On the way back to the car, she caught Namjoon casting a look at the desk where they had met her mother, but she wasn’t there, cueing the corners of his mouth to turn down in disappointment. Clearly, she had left a lasting impression on Namjoon. 
Outside, the weather was still cool and pleasant, tourists ambling down Boylston street with great shopping bags swinging from the crooks of their elbows. The black salt in her tote bag felt like it weighed one hundred pounds, placing it in the backseat of her car as she slid in. The tinny old tape resumed, crackling to life in the speaker, Mick Jagger sounding more like Kermit than anything. Namjoon, once settled in his seat, started reading Wuthering Heights straight away, leaving Y/N to focus on the route home and planning out some kind of cleansing and banishing ritual in her mind.
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“Wow. Stick Style?” Namjoon let himself through the iron gate Y/N pulled open, taking him around the front upon remembering she had put the bar lock across the sliding kitchen door the night before out of paranoia. 
“That’s right,” Y/N confirmed, carefully navigating the brick walkway to the porch in order not to trip. One of her missions for the day was to watch her clumsiness, and a stray loose brick would put a kink in that plan for sure. “This one was built in 1886 for a judge and his family.”
Namjoon was busy admiring the trees crowding the yard when Y/N noticed the packages piled up on the doorstep, squinting as she tried to see what they were. Bending to collect them, one was a thick packet from the bank, and the other was a medium sized box from her phone carrier. The hybrid’s credit cards and phones arrived far quicker than she had expected, to her delight; they’d be able to buy what they wanted that afternoon at some of the shops and even call her if they wandered off and lost her. Tucking the packages under her arm, she managed to unlock the door while her tote bag slid down her arm, pushing the door open with a loud creak. 
The house was lively. The scent of bacon nearly knocked her off her feet, a lovely song coming from the piano upstairs, and there was chatter Y/N could hear coming from far off in the kitchen. Someone had lit the candles in the sconces on the wall, making the house feel cozy compared to the cool, overcast morning. Grinning, Y/N felt glee well up inside of her, the house feeling so lived-in already that it reminded her of the holidays with her grandparents as a child. Tossing a look over her shoulder, Namjoon hesitated at the threshold of the front door, appearing to size up the scale of the home, before entering the foyer behind her and shutting the door firmly. Upon further consideration, he locked the deadbolt behind him, Y/N raising her eyebrow but saying nothing. 
“Good morning Y/N–” Seokjin bounded out of the kitchen, a strip of bacon in his hand on its way to his parted lips, freezing as he registered Namjoon behind her. Slowly, he lowered his arm, recovering pretty well once he noticed Y/N trying to juggle the packages and her tote bag threatening to crash to the ground, the jaguar hybrid promptly catching the bag and setting it carefully on the staircase. “Hello, Namjoon,” he greeted evenly, waving with his piece of bacon. Y/N snickered, Namjoon offering a short nod in response. 
“Did Yoongi make you some breakfast?” Y/N asked Seokjin, his tail flicking back and forth languidly as he shook his head. Upon mentioning the leopard hybrid’s name, the music upstairs abruptly cut short. Y/N was reminded once more of the hybrid’s incredible hearing, sending a shiver down her spine. No more late-night trips to the kitchen for some shredded cheese out of the bag. 
“No, Jimin,” was his response, nodding his head towards the kitchen. “Yoongi’s tinkering around on the piano, and hasn’t even come down yet. Nor Taehyung.”
“Mind if I take a look around?” Namjoon interjected, arms crossed over his chest as he stared straight into Y/N’s face, expression neutral. Clearing her throat, Y/N tried to make a “go ahead” motion with her arms while holding the packages. 
“Be my guest,” she side-eyed the box of things she had collected for him at the foot of the stairs, which he had yet to notice. “Find a bedroom you like, while you’re at it, and come find us after.”
“Sure,” Namjoon agreed absently, slowly taking off down the hall towards Jimin’s room. Thoughtfully munching on his bacon, Seokjin shrugged, following Y/N to the kitchen in her pursuit of a letter opener. 
At the island was Hoseok stirring cream into Y/N’s old Darth Vader mug, face puffy with sleep, and she caught a glimpse of Jimin by the stove dressed in his new jeans and the beige linen button down. Upon further examination, he had a bit of batter on his nose as he flipped a pancake expertly on the skillet. Hoseok offered her a sleepy smile, patting the bar stool next to him for her to sit while Seokjin swiped more bacon from the plate by Jimin at the stove. 
“Morning, Miss Y/N, would you like some pancakes, or bacon before Seokjin eats it all?” Jimin turned around, flinching as Seokjin attempted to collect the batter off of the coyote hybrid’s nose with an index finger. Snorting, she shook her head, feeling the cinnamon roll from the library cafe sitting in her stomach like a boulder. 
“No thanks, sweetheart, I got something to eat on the way home with Namjoon,” she answered easily, using the letter opener to hack open the packet from the bank. Hoseok, while stiffening at the sound of the wolf hybrid’s name, couldn’t help himself by nearly hooking his chin over Y/N’s shoulder to peer at the letter she was scanning, offering simple instructions for the card activations. Pulling out her phone, she followed the steps, smirking at the sound of Hoseok noisily slurping his coffee in her ear. 
As she was peeling the cards off of the papers from the packet, the glass slider behind her slid open, making her frown as she realized her and Namjoon could have entered that way after all. Peeking over her shoulder, she knew who it was before she got a good look– Jeongguk.
Dressed in every black item that Y/N had purchased for him, his complexion was a tad on the paler side, Jeongguk looked quite bewildered as he stumbled into the kitchen. Clearing his throat, he absently tossed a cigarette butt– smoked down to the filter– into the ashtray outside before shutting the door hastily. Frowning, Y/N stacked the credit cards on the table, wondering why he seemed so freaked out, but held her tongue out of stubbornness due to the previous night’s spat. 
“What’s the matter with you?” Hoseok called out, a note of disgust coloring his tone as he watched Jeongguk distractedly melt onto the booth of the breakfast bar. Jeongguk waved his hand dismissively, scribbling something down in his notebook with the pen from behind his ear. Rolling his eyes, Hoseok returned to his coffee while Y/N began to open up the box with the phones. 
“Morning,” Yoongi entered the room, a serene look on his face as he accepted a mug of coffee from Seokjin. It was nice to see some of the hybrids get along so amicably so far, and Y/N was trying to squash the small voice in her head telling her they were just putting on a front for her benefit. 
Putting the box of phones on the barstool next to her, Y/N double-checked to make sure the proper amount of devices were in there before taking her hat off to run her fingers through her hair. Eyes were on her as soon as the hat left her head, Y/N self-consciously wondering if her hair smelled sweaty or something. Jimin began to harshly wash pans immediately after, his honeyed strands of hair falling into his face as he worked. 
“Anyone seen Taehyung yet today? It’s almost noon, and he was the one most eager to go out today,” Seokjin remarked, passing a hand over his stomach as he returned uncooked bacon to the fridge. Y/N was unsurprised Taehyung had locked himself away while she was gone, considering he had even excused himself from the parlor yesterday as soon as she was unconscious. He didn’t seem to have any interest in getting to know the others. 
“He’s up. I heard his shower going while I was working on the piano,” Yoongi replied, cracking his knuckles as he went to sit across from Jeongguk at the breakfast bar. Either he was trying to bury the hatchet, or was keeping an eye on the elk hybrid; either way the latter hardly looked up from his notebook. 
“Working?” Y/N repeated with confusion, wondering if he was writing a musical or something. 
“Yeah, tuning it. You had a kit in the compartment under the piano bench, and some of the keys were a little flat,” Yoongi explained patiently, tracing a dainty pinky finger around the lip of his coffee mug while he spoke. This sparked excitement within her, thinking once again about lessons to inquire about at the music store later that afternoon, especially now that the piano was getting looked after by someone like Yoongi. 
“That song you were playing when I came home was very pretty,” Y/N complimented, hoping she, too, could play half as well as Yoongi one day. His cheeks turned pink, murmuring a thank-you, studiously staring out the window. 
Y/N passed her fingers over the glossy credit cards, the ridges of Namjoon’s name on the top card making her wonder where he had ended up. With Hoseok next to her, definitely more quiet than usual, she made a mental note to keep an eye on the fox hybrid that afternoon now that Namjoon would be joining them on their outing, or so she hoped. She still didn’t know if sad-sack Jeongguk would come with them, but leaving him alone in the house made her feel melancholy, even if he was a brat. 
“Hoseok, are you going to shower before we leave? I can smell the sweat coming off of you all the way from here,” Seokjin suddenly complained, leaning forward on the island to sniff in Hoseok’s direction dramatically. Hoseok let the comment roll off his shoulders, patronizingly stroking Seokjin’s hand from across the island with a grin. Displeasure washed over Seokjin’s lovely face comically.
“I’ll make sure to wait for you in the shower, cupcake. Maybe you should join me for a morning workout next time,” Hoseok pushed himself off of his barstool with a great heave, chuckling at Seokjin’s angry barking insults as he vanished from the room. 
“You should know by now not to try and out-fox the fox with verbal shell games, Seokjin. It’s getting embarrassing for all of us, at this point,” Yoongi called out from the breakfast bar, making Y/N chortle loudly. Seokjin frowned, his tail flicking back and forth in an agitated manner. 
“Alright, come on,” Y/N sighed, brushing away a tear of amusement from the corner of her eye, “I’ve got something for you guys. Figured you’d need these in this great age of technology,” she stood, scooping up several phone boxes from the open package to deal out like cards, sliding one each across the island to Jimin and Seokjin before delivering two more to Yoongi and Jeongguk at the breakfast bar.
The room was so quiet, a pin could drop and it would sound like a gunshot as each hybrid stared at their phone boxes, Y/N biting her lip as Jeongguk took his phone from her like a live grenade. 
“Uh, remind me to give you my number when you set the phones up, just in case anything happens and you can’t find me physically, or something,” Y/N babbled, wondering if now was a bad time to pass out the credit cards, considering the astounded looks on everyone’s faces. “Hmm. I guess I should look for Taehyung… Namjoon too. We’ll leave in about a half hour?” She continued upon further silence from the hybrids, catching Seokjin examining the box of his new cell phone like it was an exotic insect. 
Yoongi nodded robotically, Jimin whispering something to Seokjin as they both read the back of their phone boxes. Tucking the credit cards in her skirt pocket and scooping up the remaining phones, she offered the stunned hybrids a warm smile before heading towards the hallway. Jimin looked like he wanted to follow Y/N, but Seokjin caught his wrist and started to point at something on the box. 
In the hallway, Y/N took a deep breath, nearly stumbling over Namjoon’s box of items by the stairs. Cursing, she regained her balance, almost toppling over again as she heard the door to the green room from behind her creak loudly. Dread flooded through her in an instant, praying the old hag ghost wasn’t two paces from breathing down her neck. Spinning around, she was relieved to see Namjoon peeking his head out from behind the door, an eyebrow raised. 
“Sorry, you startled me,” Y/N breathed, Namjoon stepping out into the hall with a grunt of acknowledgement. 
“I think the sooner you do that protection ritual, the better you’ll feel,” Namjoon remarked, hands on hips. He wasn’t wrong about that, Y/N thought. “This room taken?” He nodded towards the green room where Seokjin had stayed. 
“No, you can have it,” Y/N tried her best not to shy away from his close proximity, the sensation of him towering over her a bit overwhelming. “This box is for you, some clothes to get you through the next couple of weeks and toiletries. Oh, this too,” Y/N nudged the box on the floor before remembering the phones in her hand, hastily handing one over to him. Eyebrows furrowed, he pocketed the phone swiftly, more interested in the contents of the box of clothes he kneeled down to take a look at. 
“Hey, we’re all going to head out into town in a bit to get some fresh air, and you’re invited as well, of course,” Y/N said, suddenly feeling shy as he leafed through some of the shirts she had chosen for him. Namjoon hummed, the sound slightly gravelly, his ear flickering. 
“I’ll go with you,” Namjoon agreed, stretching back up to his full height, his face softer than she had seen it before, at least directed towards her. “Thanks, by the way,” he added gently, lifting the box off the ground, taking one last look at her before hauling it into his room.
Reeling, Y/N absently trudged up the stairs, unable to get the look he had on his face out of her head. A ghost of the fondness he had shown for her mother reflected in Namjoon’s expression, and even if it lasted for a moment, it felt precious to her. As she reached the second floor, she heard Hoseok’s whistling from the basement. Hastening to Taehyung’s room, Y/N paused to listen for any movement, but heard nothing. Before she could knock, the door flung open, Y/N’s jaw hanging open as she dropped her hand limply. 
“Are we leaving?” Taehyung leaned against the door jamb, dressed in his blue long-sleeve and dark jeans. His hair was still wet from the shower, ringlets surrounding his face like a cherub. Tapping his foot, Taehyung seemed eager to embark on their outing as he peered out into the hallway, scanning the surroundings. 
“Shortly, yes,” Y/N replied, the scent of sandalwood coming off of him powerfully. As they started down the hall together, Y/N chatting mindlessly about the events of the morning and giving him his phone, she couldn’t help but think that Taehyung had to be one of the easiest to talk to. 
Like Jimin, Taehyung listened intently, but wasn’t so intense in his gaze as she talked, having more of a calming– as opposed to dazzling– effect on her. Out of everyone, he seemed to be the most excited about the phone, opening it immediately and passing it to Y/N to plug in her phone number. She did so blindly as they reached the kitchen, Taehyung sticking to her side closely as she created a contact for herself. 
The kitchen was in a bit of commotion as they entered, Hoseok loudly complaining about Seokjin polishing off the bacon, and Jimin trying to keep up his carefully-constructed patience as he told Seokjin how to turn on his phone. Yoongi had migrated to the coffee bar, apparently making himself a to-go cup, and Jeongguk was already typing away on his new phone at the breakfast nook. 
Y/N made her rounds putting her number in the other’s phones, Jeongguk reluctantly parting with his when she reached him. She endured the awkwardness of their interaction, the words he spat the previous night hovering in the air starkly. She could tell, by the set of his jaw, that Jeongguk was likely recalling the events, avoiding her eyes expertly. Feeling Taehyung breathing down her neck as she punched the digits into Jeongguk’s phone, Y/N hurriedly handed it back to the elk hybrid, who was huffing impatiently. At least, she thought distantly, he had the decency to look a little sheepish when she smiled at him sweetly. 
When Namjoon entered the kitchen, every head turned to look at him. Y/N only registered the disturbance when she couldn’t hear Hoseok and Seokjin bickering anymore, looking up from Jimin’s phone with interest. Namjoon, standing stiffly at the threshold of the kitchen, scanned each hybrid briefly, spending a little more time watching Taehyung linger at Y/N’s side at the sink. Returning Jimin’s phone to him, Y/N cleared her throat, nervously shooting a glance at Hoseok, who had either subconsciously or accidentally pulled Seokjin in front of him like some kind of meat-shield. Even Yoongi, wiping down the counter, seemed perturbed by the wolf hybrid’s presence, his ears turned downwards. The tension in the room was nearly suffocating, all of the ease vanishing as soon as Namjoon walked in. 
“Well, now that everyone’s here, we can head out now,” Y/N clapped once in an attempt to dissolve some of the tension, only succeeding in making Jimin jump in surprise. Patting his back gingerly in apology, she inched towards Namjoon without Taehyung following her like a shadow, to her surprise, while desperately hoping to corral everyone out to the car in one piece. “Ready?”
Y/N walked in tandem with Namjoon out the front door, counting heads like a school teacher as each hybrid exited the house. They grouped together in cliques, Yoongi and Jimin, Seokjin and Hoseok– Jeongguk, of course, was by himself but stayed close to Yoongi curiously enough. The five lingering by the Land Cruiser kept considerable distance from both Taehyung and Namjoon, who also appeared to stay clear of one another. 
Without a question, the rest of the hybrids said nothing as Namjoon slid into the passenger seat promptly, Taehyung reluctantly climbing into the seat behind Y/N. Seokjin, mumbling about Hoseok pushing him too harshly, crammed himself in the third row of the car beside Jeongguk followed by the fox hybrid. Before Namjoon could put the horrid Rolling Stones tape on again, Y/N switched on the radio, a Britney Spears song filling the car with a bit of sunshine. Once again, Yoongi found himself in the center seat of the second row with a grimace on his face, making eye contact with Y/N in the rearview. Trying to appear apologetic, she gave him a half-smile as she pulled out into the street. Hoseok began to whistle along to the tune of Gimme More. 
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After finding a decent parking spot at the cluster of shops in the middle of the town and passing out the hybrid’s new credit cards, everyone flooded out into the square in a mostly orderly manner. They parked closest to the music store, which was right across from Judy’s metaphysical shop where Y/N was planning to pick up hours to pay for all future expenses. Seokjin, kindly, held the door open for everyone to enter the dusty-smelling music store, smiling politely at an elderly woman ambling in behind Y/N. 
Upon entering the store, everyone peeled off in different directions. Shiny electric guitars, polished brass trumpets, and long coiled bunches of cables hung from the pegboard walls, large drum kits and cases of vinyls were strewn in every direction. The place was sensory overload, positively crammed with inventory and unique looking people working behind the counters, unfazed by the seven hybrids running all over the place. Namjoon, of course, was by the single small bin by the front door overflowing with two dollar tapes. Passing by Taehyung at the jazz vinyl shelf, Y/N made her way to the far corner of the shop where the piano sheet music was displayed in crates, Yoongi scanning a thin booklet in his delicate hands, his spotted tail curling around his leg placidly. 
Curiously, and not without the feeling that she had no idea what she was looking at, Y/N pawed through a crate of piano music from movies, trying her best to give Yoongi enough space to move around in the tight corner. She fumbled with a book filled with the score from Grease, suddenly aware of the gold-green eyes burning a hole into her cheek while she was trying to decipher the foreign symbols evidently depicting musical notes. Glancing at Yoongi out of the corner of her eye, she sighed, putting the book down upon seeing his wry grin.
“I have no idea what I’m doing,” Y/N groaned, too shy to venture up to the counter and ask the middle-aged man with a graying ponytail and scally cap about lessons. “I can’t even read sheet music– the guy giving me my lessons would probably laugh me out of the practice room. The window of learning this type of thing has probably closed for me anyways.”
Yoongi scoffed, leaning his hip against the crate he was previously leafing through, a stack of booklets tucked under his arm. With narrowed eyes, he scanned the pout shadowing Y/N face. 
“That’s all bullshit, anyone can learn to play an instrument at any age,” Yoongi started, tucking a long strand of hair behind his ear, “You know, I could just teach you piano. We can do weekly lessons, and start small. Why bother paying someone here when you have a piano and a teacher already at home?” 
Mouth opening and closing, Y/N squeaked out something like what, realization crashing down on her embarrassingly. She hadn’t even thought to ask Yoongi, and he brought up an excellent point– for what reason should she drive down to the music shop weekly for lessons when she could play the old piano at home that sparked the interest in the first place. Expectantly, Yoongi searched her face, waiting for a coherent answer to his proposition. 
“You’d do that? I mean, that would be great– I’d really love that,” Y/N managed, Yoongi nodding purposefully. Showing her a booklet from the stack under his arm, Y/N read the title: Piano Classics for Beginners. Heat blooming in her cheeks, she realized Yoongi must have hatched this plan on the ride into town. 
“We can start with this. I think Fridays would be good for lessons, that way you’ll have all week to familiarize yourself with the piano until our first one,” he tapped the cover of the book as he spoke, thinly veiled excitement showing on his expression. Glowing, Y/N agreed fervently, absolutely enthralled to have both lessons and an opportunity to bond with Yoongi on her horizon. 
Yoongi went back to sorting through the piano books, eyeing each title carefully. Still riding the high of his offer, Y/N left the leopard hybrid in search of Seokjin or Hoseok. The two were arguing by the counter, Hoseok audibly more loud than the jaguar hybrid, one of the women working behind the counter awkwardly fiddling with a roll of quarters as she witnessed the dispute. Frowning, Y/N approached, trying not to panic that Hoseok was leaning his back against a wobbly and expensive looking French horn on a stand. 
“How could you just watch him stroll right by and out the door? You were right there next to the bulletin board, Hoseok,” Seokjin pointed to the front of the shop, eyes bulging out of his skull as his tail flicked back and forth in an urgent manner. Hoseok groaned, arms crossed over his chest as he noticed Y/N standing in front of them. 
“What happened? Hoseok, please, you’re going to knock that over,” Y/N pulled him closer to her by his upper arm, away from the French horn the woman behind the counter was anxiously staring at. 
“Jeongguk left, like five minutes ago. Hoseok just told me,” Seokjin pushed a worried hand through his blue-black waves, eyebrows pulled together in distress as if he was about to be scolded. Not ideal, Y/N thought.
“It’s okay, he has a phone now, remember? He probably went out for a smoke or to check out another store. I’ll give him a call if he doesn’t turn up in the next fifteen minutes,” Y/N tried her best to soothe Seokjin, although she was worried herself that Jeongguk was already hitchhiking halfway to Vermont. 
“That’s what I tried to explain to him, but he managed to blame me for Jeongguk’s departure,” Hoseok groaned, clearly exasperated by the whole conversation. Seokjin shot him a thanks a lot look. 
Scanning the shop, Y/N realized that Jeongguk wasn’t the only one missing. Jimin, too, had vanished, and Namjoon looked ready to leave by the door with a plastic bag full of tapes as well. Taehyung and Yoongi were in line around the opposite side of the counter ready to make their own purchases. Chewing her lip, she turned back to Hoseok, knowing he had likely seen Jimin leave as well. 
“Did you happen to see Jimin leave?” Y/N asked, catching Hoseok’s attention mid-glare directed at Seokjin. 
“Yeah, he went to go look for the elk,” Hoseok rolled his eyes, finally maintaining distance from the French horn as Y/N yanked him away from it once more. Breathing a small sigh of relief that she already had someone out there searching for Jeongguk, Y/N waited patiently for Taehyung and Yoongi to check out and make their way to Namjoon by the door. 
“Find anything good?” Y/N asked both Taehyung and Namjoon as they exited the shop, trying to ignore the bickering behind her coming from Seokjin and Hoseok, even Yoongi joining in on the pettiness. 
Taehyung clutched his flat paper bag filled with his goods close to his chest, a warm smile across his lips, slightly pulling one of the vinyls out to show her a Mad Season record. Y/N recalled she never asked him what he was going to say about that band. Namjoon, swinging the bag in his fist as they walked out into the bricked courtyard, looked down at Y/N in a detached way. 
“They had folk tapes, mostly. I saved the least… grating ones from the bin,” Namjoon replied slowly, eyes going from her face to Taehyung’s, an ounce of suspicion in his voice. 
Nodding, Y/N could palpably feel ice forming between the wolf and Kodiak hybrids as they stared at one another, wondering what possibly could have happened in the short span of time spent together to warrant the hostility in their eyes. Considering the amount of the hybrids that already disliked one another; Hoseok and Namjoon, Jeongguk and everyone else, and now Namjoon and Taehyung, Y/N felt that she might have bitten off more than she could chew. She held no regrets, of course, but she definitely had the feeling that she’d need some help from her friends to get the hybrids to loosen up a bit at the cookout on Friday to prevent a bloodbath. 
Shivering at a particularly brisk breeze rolling by, Y/N searched the courtyard for any sightings of Jimin or Jeongguk, spotting Jimin’s honeyed head of hair peering into the window of the bookstore. Ditching the two hybrids in their icy stare-off, she hurried over to the coyote hybrid, his hands tucked into his jeans pockets as he strolled further away from her to the next storefront. 
“Jimin!” Y/N called after him, his ears immediately perking up as he swiveled around to look at her. His expression changed from happy surprise to guilt almost instantly, halting his movements as she made her way to his side. “Any luck finding Jeongguk?” 
“No, I’m sorry, Miss Y/N,” Jimin wrung his hands together, eyebrows pinching together in likely annoyance towards the elk hybrid. Patting his forearm gently, Y/N sighed. 
“It’s alright, Jimin, I appreciate you coming out here to look for him, though,” Y/N fumbled for her phone in her tote bag, ready to find Jeongguk’s number and call him. In the car earlier, she had each of them send her a text so she’d have all their contacts as well. Hoseok sent her a fox emoji, Seokjin and Jimin a simple “hello”, but all Jeongguk had sent was a period. 
“Y/N, I think he’s in there,” Hoseok shouted from across the courtyard, pointing dramatically at the storefront towards the exit. Squinting, Y/N barked out a laugh in disbelief, because of course Jeongguk had wandered into the metaphysical shop that happened to be her future employer. 
“Thanks, Hoseok!” Y/N panted, jogging over with Jimin to where most of the hybrids had clumped around by the metaphysical shop. “You guys can go into whatever store you like now– I have to stop in here anyways, and it’ll probably be for about a half hour. We can meet up after by the fountain over there, and get some ice cream before heading back. Okay?” 
Hoseok took one look at the sign for the metaphysical shop, frowned, before giving her a thumbs-up and dragging Seokjin towards the chocolate shop two doors down. Taehyung, still glaring at Namjoon, followed Yoongi and Jimin to the bookstore, while the wolf hybrid remained by Y/N’s side. Watching the others go made a smile grow across her face, the tension dissolving from the air as Y/N could see closer bonds already being formed– Hoseok’s arm slung around Seokjin’s shoulders, Jimin laughing at something Yoongi had uttered in his ear. 
“You coming in with me?” Y/N nodded towards the tinted glass door of Judy’s metaphysical shop upon noticing Namjoon not budging from her side. 
“I’d prefer to keep an eye on that elk hybrid. Him slipping away again might cause another fiasco,” Namjoon replied calmly, Y/N raising her eyebrows. She wouldn’t have categorized the last fifteen minutes as a fiasco, actually congratulating herself for remaining calm, however perhaps he could sense the underlying dread that had been flooding through her. Shrugging, she mumbled a “thank you” bashfully as he opened the door for her, the jingling of the witch bells fastened to the door announcing their arrival. 
It was dark in the small shop, and absolutely reeking of myrrh incense. Enya played on a CD player by the door, dim fabric colored lamplight allowing some visibility for the crowded shelves of candles, books, statues, and other oddities. In the corner of the shop, by the table of amulets, was Jeongguk, turning over a silver object between his thumb and forefinger. Not even bothering to inform him that they had formed a search party after his unannounced departure from the music store, Y/N found her way to the case in the back of the shop, which served as the checkout counter and a jewelry display. No one was behind the case– Judy must have been in the back room where tarot readings were held. Namjoon shuffled his feet behind her, running his fingers over a beautiful chunk of amethyst on the crystal table. 
Leaning on the case, Y/N admired bejeweled athames within it laying on beds of velvet. The shop was filled with so much inventory, and judging by the humongous book by the ancient register, it seemed everything was cataloged by hand. Y/N would certainly have her work cut out for her learning all of the wares, not to mention trying to recall what everything was used for or even called. 
“Oh, the wolf. How nice,” Jeongguk suddenly commented, noisily setting red candles, a stack of incense, and the silver amulet he had been holding when they came in on the checkout case. The amulet was some kind of saint medallion, but because Y/N was unfamiliar with Christianity, she had no idea who it was. Namjoon said nothing, heading over to the bookcase and pulling out leather-bound grimoires at random. 
“Hmm. These are pretty,” Y/N remained civil, examining one of the beautiful hand-dipped candles Jeongguk picked out. He grunted in response, impatiently tapping on the glass of the case and staring at the beaded curtain to the tarot reading room. 
Sighing, Y/N set her gaze on Namjoon while he was turned away, the muscles of his back flexing and relaxing as he hefted a large book off the shelf to leaf through. As if sensing that she was staring, Namjoon’s face tilted to the side, the length of his eyelashes catching lamplight as he locked eyes with her. Reddening, Y/N broke eye contact, not being able to shake the feeling that there was a certain familiarity in the color of his eyes. She could hear Namjoon approaching the case once more, Jeongguk groaning as he pulled a tattooed hand through his hair in exasperation. 
The clattering sound of wooden beads knocking together made for a good excuse to ignore the fact that Namjoon had returned to his spot behind her, once again crowding her against the glass case like he had at the library cafe. Judy, the shop owner and close friend of her mother, abruptly barrelled into the room from the back, carrying a large, old wooden chest she heaved onto the workbench behind the case the three of them were standing in front of. Pushing her rectangular spectacles up her nose distractedly, Judy’s crystal bracelets made clanging noises as she held up a single sun-weathered finger up to the three patrons waiting for her attention. 
Jeongguk shifted next to Y/N, looking aggravated as the woman began to leaf through the contents of the wooden chest. From behind her, Namjoon slid a well-worn copy of some sort of supernatural encyclopedia onto the case, his fingers accidentally brushing her forearm leaning onto the glass before yanking his hand away like he was burned. Gritting her teeth, wishing that either Hoseok or Taehyung were there to bring her a sense of ease, Y/N coiled her arms around her midsection as she tried to get space sandwiched between the elk and wolf hybrids. 
“Y/N, wonderful to see you after so long. Gentlemen,” Judy began after several moments of muttering to herself looking through the wooden chest, finally facing and greeting them standing before her. “Sorry for the wait. My assistant– er, son– recently went off to college, so it’s been difficult for me to keep track of my papers and whatnot…” 
Judy rang up Jeongguk’s items as she spoke, punching numbers into the old cash register noisily and pulling out tissue paper to wrap the candles. Glancing at her watch, Y/N made sure they still had time to meet the others without having to scramble. 
“My mother came to see you, am I right?” Y/N smiled at Judy, who was carefully tucking Namjoon’s book into a paper bag. Nodding with a chuckle, Judy pushed a curly strand of sandy hair from her face. 
“Oh, yes. Making promises without you being here– can you start next week?” Judy pulled out a packet of paper she had retrieved from the chest earlier, handing it to Y/N promptly. Snorting, Y/N flipped through the packet of inventory she was to learn, nodding sagely. Hopefully, by next week, the hybrids would be fairly settled in enough for her to leave them for a few hours. 
“How many days a week would you need me?” Y/N absently handed her credit card over to pay for Jeongguk and Namjoon’s items, forgetting that they had their own. Jeongguk made a noise of surprise, stuffing his card back into the pocket of his black jeans. 
“Only three; Monday, Wednesday, Thursday. Business has been slow ever since the colleges are back in session, and my son can come back on the weekends to help out. Sounds good?” Judy returned Y/N’s credit card to her, sliding the bag of items across the case towards Jeongguk, who she eyed in a thoughtful way. 
“That works for me,” Y/N agreed, although partly concerned that a three day work week wouldn’t garner much for a paycheck. 
“Here, honey. I think this will help you. Wrapped it up for you this morning,” Judy added suddenly, reaching behind her desk in the corner for an item. Accepting it, Y/N turned the smoke cleansing stick of cedar and rosemary over in her hands, positively amazed. She had forgotten Judy was a psychic medium, likely picking up on her need to cleanse and protect her home, and chose the perfect botanicals to assist her in that endeavor unprompted. 
“Thank you, Judy,” Y/N said sincerely, carefully tucking the herb bundle into the bag Jeongguk had in his hand. Judy waved her off, thanking her for picking up the hours at the shop, before a young woman came through the shop door for a scheduled psychic reading. Taking it as their cue to leave, Y/N corralled Jeongguk out the door, Namjoon following close behind her. 
Taking a lungful of incense-free air outside, Y/N felt hopeful about her new job. While it was likely an in-between before her next career move, it was refreshing to work someplace so vastly different. Jeongguk asked where they were meeting the others, walking very quickly to the fountain that Y/N had pointed to and away from her and Namjoon in a seemingly disturbed manner. Craning her neck up and back to look at Namjoon, she caught his narrowed eyes following Jeongguk’s form, jaw set dangerously. Clearing her throat, she managed to snag his attention, a degree of hostility slipping from his expression as their eyes met. 
“You’re going to work there?” Namjoon asked questions in the form of fact confirmation, Y/N noticed. 
“Mm-hmm. Just until I figure out what to do next,” Y/N replied, Namjoon’s half-torn ear fluttering lightly as she spoke. She wondered what had happened to it, with a feeling of melancholy flooding through her. “Gotta pay the bills in the meantime.”
“Things would be better, if the rest of us could actually get jobs,” Namjoon bit, Y/N feeling a tad awkward in his reference to the law forbidding hybrid employment. Not that it stopped certain businesses from exploiting hybrid labor illegally, which is what happened to Yoongi and likely some of the others. 
“I won’t deny the truth in that, Namjoon,” Y/N muttered lamely, not really knowing what else to add. It’s not like change in the medieval laws about hybrids would happen overnight, as much as she wished it would. All she could do was take the best possible care of her hybrids, and hope that as time passed things would change for the better. 
Namjoon was quiet after that, walking slowly by her side as they made their way to the fountain at the center of the courtyard. Everyone was waiting for them already, each with a bag or two of things that they had bought from various stores, Yoongi lazily lying on his side on the ledge of the fountain and enjoying the afternoon sun. 
“Y/N!” Hoseok sang, startling her as he skipped from around the fountain once her and Namjoon approached the meeting spot. Aggressively, Hoseok grabbed her wrist, yanking her away from Namjoon without sparing him a glance and pulling her to the opposite side of the fountain. Heart slamming up into her throat at Hoseok’s firm grip, she barely registered him straightening her out by her shoulders as he pushed her in front of Seokjin. 
“Look, Jin got these for the cookout you’re having,” Hoseok nudged Seokjin, who was holding a startlingly large bucket of toffee from the chocolate shop. Seokjin looked embarrassed, his cheeks pink and rounded as he sheepishly held out the bucket for Y/N to see. Immediately, she turned to mush at the thought of Seokjin picking out something to contribute at the cookout, and he was clearly proud of his choice, particularly when he gauged the joyful reaction on her face. 
“Wow Seokjin, everyone will love those, they look delicious! That was so kind of you, honey,” Y/N gushed, the red in Seokjin’s cheeks deepening as he lifted the lid off of the toffee so she could take a look. The slabs of toffee wafted a buttery scent, making her mouth water. Seokjin plucked a small shard of the toffee out of the bucket, suddenly grinning slyly. 
“Here, try some,” Seokjin lifted the piece of toffee to poise inches from her lips, stunning Y/N as her mouth dropped open involuntarily in shock. Absently hearing Hoseok chuckle, Y/N stood stunned as Seokjin pushed the toffee between her lips, the confection immediately beginning to melt in her mouth as he pulled his hand away. 
“Good?” Seokjin mused, tilting his head playfully. Positively burning up, Y/N carefully chewed the toffee as Seokjin smirked at her, closing up the tub. Tearing her gaze from him, her eyes regretfully landed on Hoseok, who sent her a cheeky wink. 
“Delicious,” Y/N murmured, feeling scandalized in front of the two hybrids clearly enjoying her flustered reaction. Did she really just let Seokjin feed her?
“Shall we get ice cream now, darling?” Hoseok shoved his hands in his pockets, still grinning at her smugly. Rolling her shoulders back, she agreed, casting a look over her shoulder as she felt someone approach from behind. To her relief, it was Taehyung, shooting a wary look at the peanut gallery in front of Y/N. 
Hurrying to Taehyung’s side with her cheeks still aflame, Y/N did her best to round everyone else up and usher them into the old-fashioned ice cream parlor to wrap up their afternoon outing. The parlor was filled with the scents of rich fudge and waffle cones, and the space was quite limiting with the eight of them jammed against the glass display case of gallons of ice cream. 
Y/N was pushed by Namjoon’s frame behind her into Jimin’s side by the register, patiently relaying each ice cream order as Jimin calmly repeated them to her in her ear. The teenaged boy taking the orders seemed to be overwhelmed by the amount of hybrids in the parlor at one given time, staring at Jeongguk’s antlers with shock as the elk hybrid elbowed his way towards Y/N to request some mint chocolate chip ice cream, which made Namjoon make a sound akin to gagging from behind her. 
Since there was hardly any room for everyone to sit inside the shop to enjoy their ice cream, Y/N opted to bring everyone back to the fountain to eat. She sat in between Yoongi and Taehyung, managing to keep her distance from Seokjin and Hoseok for the moment. They appeared to still be yucking it up at her expense, sitting together on the grass a little ways from her feet. Jeongguk took his ice cream to the opposite side of the fountain, playing some kind video on his phone in a foreign language; one that sounded pretty close to Latin. 
Namjoon had found a spot to enjoy his coffee ice cream on a bench not too far from the fountain, Y/N able to keep an eye on him. She regretfully realized she did nothing but fill him up on sugar and coffee since he had come into her care, as she shoveled a spoonful of ice cream into her mouth, watching the wolf hybrid admire the yellowing leaves of the tree he was under. 
“Hmm. I forgot to ask… Do you have a record player back at your house?” Taehyung spoke lowly, his voice hard to hear over the babbling of the fountain behind them. He had long finished the small cup of strawberry soft-serve he held balanced between his knees, his records placed neatly by his feet. 
“Yeah, there’s a set-up somewhere in the room with the piano. It’s likely in one of those big cabinets, my uncle was a vinyl collector when he grew up there in the 70’s. His collection of records is in the garage, too, if you wanna pick through that when you get bored,” Y/N recalled, licking some cream from her lips in thought. She prayed that the record player still worked, although a new system would make an excellent Christmas present for Taehyung. 
Taehyung leaned back on his palms, gazing at her through the thick of eyelashes. His hair was dry by now, curly and wild with the wind that mussed the strands, hiding his rounded ears in the volume of it. Y/N noticed that Jimin, who was sitting beside Taehyung, had very obviously placed his shopping bag of books between them to get some space. She could tell he was listening to their conversation, with the way Jimin’s ears were angled forward and alert, twitching to the sound of Taehyung’s deep tone. 
“How was the ice cream, Taehyung?” Y/N crumpled up her napkin into her own empty cup, sighing contentedly. 
“Very good,” Taehyung murmured, suddenly dropping the eye contact he’d been maintaining. Like all of the hybrids, Y/N swore that they held some sort of spellbinding power in their gazes. “Thank you,” he added, absently clicking his heels together while staring at his sneakers. 
“Don’t mention it,” Y/N waved her hand, feeling embarrassed. 
“Ah, maybe I should have gotten the matcha ice cream…” Yoongi suddenly lamented beside her, elbows leaning on his knees. Frowning, Y/N turned to him, forgetting he was so close as her thigh pressed into his. Immediately, Yoongi stiffened, peering at her intensely through the corner of his eye. 
“Oh no, was the lemon sorbet gross?” Y/N felt her lip jutting out in a pout, disappointed Yoongi was unsatisfied with his half-melted treat. Yoongi cleared his throat awkwardly as he tore his eyes from her face, choosing to glare at Hoseok on the ground instead. 
“No–” 
“You should have gotten the matcha. It’s amazing,” Hoseok insisted, a smugness worming its way into his tone as he both cut Yoongi off and took a loud bite of the waffle cone he was eating. “Want some?” 
Hoseok extended his mostly-devoured cone towards Yoongi, who screwed up his face in disgust. Snorting softly, Y/N shook her head at Hoseok, his cheekiness seeming to get under everyone’s skin– Y/N found it endearing. 
“Get that out of my face, Foxy,” Yoongi complained, leaning closer to Y/N and firmly pressing his thigh into hers as he extended his leg to push Hoseok over with his foot. It was Y/N’s turn to go stiff, the warmth of Yoongi’s leg against the flimsiness of her tights overwhelming. She barely registered Hoseok tumbling over into Seokjin’s lap with an evil cackle, Seokjin nearly choking on a bite of his chocolate ice cream cone as he tried to fling Hoseok’s head off of his leg.
Feeling a chill wash over her despite the warmth coming from the contact with Yoongi, Y/N furrowed her eyebrows, rubbing her arms to rid herself of goosebumps. She had no idea why she was feeling uncomfortable all of a sudden, the sensation close to how she felt moments before the incident with the ghost the night before. Trying to nonchalantly take in the surroundings, praying that there wasn’t some sort of apparition following her around now, Y/N’s breath caught in her throat as she locked eyes with Namjoon from his spot on the bench. 
Oh, so that’s where the chill was coming from, she realized, the expression on Namjoon’s face icy and closed off as he glared at her. His body language was coiled and tense, jaw clenched as his eyes narrowed fractionally once they caught hers. Hair stood up on the back of her neck as she was unable to look away from him, absolutely at a loss for why he seemed so pissed off at her. She hadn’t even spoken to him in at least twenty minutes; perhaps he was feeling left out? Y/N cocked her head at him, mouthing are you okay? 
Namjoon simply sucked in his cheeks, getting up from his seat and tossing his ice cream cup in the trash by the bench. Concerned, Y/N watched him storm off in the direction of the car, torn between wanting to go after him and not wanting to rush the others who were still eating and enjoying their afternoon. After a few more moments of distractedly listening to Hoseok tease Yoongi, who had thankfully inched away from her, she got up with Jimin to gather up trash and dispose of it where Namjoon had minutes prior. Namjoon had left his bag of tapes on the bench accidentally, as Jimin pointed out keenly. 
“How are you doing, Jimin? Find some new books?” Y/N tried to stop worrying about what she had done to tick Namjoon off, scooping up his bag of tapes carefully. Jimin held his book bag behind his back in his clasped hands, grinning down at her kindly. 
“Sure did, Miss Y/N. I wanted to pick up some local interest literature, to get an idea of what this area is like,” Jimin explained as they headed to the car, quickly placing a gentle hand on her back to direct her away from a divot in the grass that would have caused her a rolled ankle. “Watch your step, there.”
“That’s right, you’re not from around here. How long have you been away from Montana?” Y/N wondered, breathing a sigh of relief that she could spot Namjoon leaning against the car from about twenty feet away. Jimin was quiet for a moment, a sort of sad look in his golden eyes while he processed her question. 
“A little over a month, now,” Jimin responded wistfully, the corner of his mouth turning upwards as he met her eyes. Y/N recalled that there was a possibility Jimin had a family back in Montana, one that had no idea where he had ended up. The thought pierced through her heart painfully. 
Jimin helped her load everyone's bags into the trunk, Y/N carefully avoiding Namjoon as she took Jeongguk’s bag from him gingerly, offering him a small smile. He was truly becoming an expert in abstaining from eye contact with her. Closing the trunk, she stretched her arms out as she waited for everyone to get into the car, Namjoon still leaning against the passenger door with a scowl. Steeling herself, she approached him. 
“I grabbed your tapes, you left them on the bench,” Y/N started, Namjoon’s eyes narrowing at the sound of her voice. He looked her up and down, seemingly analyzing the way she was nervously rocking back and forth on the balls of her feet. He didn’t respond to her, increasing her anxiety while he simply stood there imposingly.
“Is everything alright, Namjoon?” Y/N managed to squeak after a beat, the impulse to squirm under his scrutinizing extremely overpowering. His ears were turned back, straightening up to his full height to grasp the handle of the car door.
“Sure,” he replied flatly, yanking the door open and heaving himself in, slamming it in her face as she flinched backwards. Even more confused than she was before trying to speak with him, Y/N numbly got into the driver’s seat, feeling the tension between her and the wolf hybrid beside her so intensely it nearly took her breath away. 
Shakily, Y/N turned the radio on as per Hoseok’s request from the back seat, somewhat relieved that the others didn’t seem to sense her discomfort from what she could tell. Before pulling away from the plaza, Y/N checked the rearview to make sure everybody was accounted for, locking eyes with Yoongi accidentally. He had a knowing look on his face, gaze flicking between her and the back of Namjoon’s head, tracing a finger over his lower lip. Grimacing, Y/N threw the car in reverse, promptly ignoring the wolf hybrid next to her for the short duration of the ride back to the house. 
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After pulling into the driveway back at home, to Y/N’s surprise, everyone divided off in different directions. Yoongi had gone up to the piano with Taehyung in search of the record player, Hoseok to the basement with Seokjin, and Jeongguk had disappeared in the backyard with a cigarette and one of his new candles. Both Jimin and Namjoon had retreated to their respective bedrooms, leaving Y/N by herself standing awkwardly in the foyer. 
Kicking off her shoes, Y/N figured she could take a shower and cozy up in bed with a movie before one of them sought her out again. She tiptoed past Namjoon’s room on her way to her’s, hoping that she wouldn’t provoke him into further annoyance considering their rooms were so close together. Even with his door shut tight, Y/N felt like he could see through the wood as she went by. Shivering, she recalled the small, sweet smile he offered her just hours ago, trying to wrack her brain to come up with an explanation of his soured mood. 
Perhaps she should have articulated her thoughts better during their conversation surrounding the hybrids getting jobs, but there was not much she could do about that now that so much time had passed. Entering her room, she rubbed her eyes, feeling the chill from the drafty bathroom window enticing her to curl up in bed with sweats. To her shock, either Jeongguk or Namjoon had left the herb bundle from Judy on her nightstand, although she caught neither of them sneaking into her room when they arrived home. She was a bit distracted, however, telling Taehyung exactly where to look for the record player upstairs. Either way, her heart squeezed, fingers brushing over the herb bundle.
After a brief shower, Y/N hightailed it out of her bathroom to prevent another ghostly encounter, dressing in her softest sweatpants and crawling into bed with her laptop. Supposing that now was as good a time as any to figure out how to cleanse the house, Y/N put a Halloween movie on while she scribbled out her general plan for the ritual. Between the campy noise of the film she had on and the tinkering sound of the piano from upstairs, Y/N began to feel ease slip into her body. The fact that the house was so full of life now was hard for Y/N to believe, even if it came with some difficulties so far, it felt so right. 
Just as she had finished the steps for her ritual, which she had planned to do the following morning at dawn, her phone pinged. Thinking it was one of the hybrids, Y/N fumbled for her phone tangled somewhere in her quilt, pushing wet hair out of her face. Humming in excitement upon realizing the message was from Alice, Y/N shut her movie off, scooching down further in bed. 
Alice Santos: facetime now okay?
Without responding, Y/N clicked the icon to call her, both excited to catch up with one of her closest friends and nervous to announce her adoptions of all the hybrids. She had a feeling Alice would be a bit more dramatic than Ben had been. The phone rang twice before Alice’s face appeared on the screen, squealing upon seeing Y/N. 
“Hold on, hold on. Before you say anything, I’m adding Laura to the call,” Alice’s raspy voice filled Y/N with warmth, her nails clacking against the screen as she searched for her twin sister’s contact. Y/N could hear Alice’s cat, Heathcliff, mewing loudly at her from his spot on the couch beside her. 
Seconds later, Laura, lovely as ever, popped onto the screen as well, sitting in a rocking chair with her son Kai on her lap. Both Y/N and Alice cooed at the boy, just shy of two years old, his chubby little cheeks smeared with a bit of applesauce Laura was trying to feed him. 
“I miss you guys so much!” Y/N whined, recalling the last time she saw both of them– a little over a month ago at Alice’s poetry book release party. 
Alice worked as an editor for a local paper, which often took up most of her time, up until she published her book. Now, she was busier than ever doing pop-up readings and working on her newest book, on top of the work from the paper. Y/N was extremely proud of Alice’s accomplishments; her dreams of becoming a successful writer as a kid started to come true right before her eyes. 
Similarly, Laura had her hands full with not only her two year old son, but the vlog channel she created after Kai’s birth to document motherhood with her husband Tyler as the faithful cameraman. The channel took off, thanks to Laura’s infectious sunshine personality and creativity, her videos featuring recipes, craft tutorials, and Q&A’s. 
“I miss you more, Y/N, how did the job exit go? Are you free finally?” Alice produced a bowl of ice cream from behind the phone camera, curling into a ball on her tiny couch to tuck into it. Alice, the more forward of the two twins, never liked how much Y/N’s job at the vet clinic had drained her. 
“My last day was Friday,” Y/N confirmed, pouting slightly. She had to admit, she felt guilty that she didn’t even miss working at the clinic yet, quickly chalking it up to how busy she had been with the hybrids over the weekend. 
“Thank the Lord for that,” Laura chimed in, bouncing a babbling Kai on her knee while adjusting his tight brown curls. “That place was sucking the life out of you, honey.”
“Hey, you’re doing the cookout this Friday, right? Ben texted me… what should I bring? I was going to make a sangria or something,” Alice pondered, giving Heathcliff a scratch under his chin. 
Discussing the details of the cookout for a few moments, she and the twins decided on what they’d bring, the conversation turning towards Ben and Roy’s adoption of Daisy pretty quickly. Y/N brought up her idea for introducing Kai to Daisy, which Laura was already onboard for. 
“I’ve been meaning to introduce Kai to hybrids for some time now. Children really seem to love them, and there’s so many hybrids in Boston these days,” Laura explained, tugging on the end of one of her collarbone-length twisted braids. Y/N sucked in her cheeks, nodding. Would now be the time to tell them about her hybrids?
“Y/N, by the way, when Ben texted me… he said you had news,” Alice raised a manicured eyebrow, setting her bowl down with a mischievous smile. Heart plummeting to her ass, Y/N cursed in betrayal. 
“Ugh! He can never keep his mouth shut, I swear!” Y/N groaned, shoving her face into a pillow in dismay. Her heart began to race, knowing that if the twins began to shout at her through the phone, the hybrids would hear every word. Her headphones were missing from her nightstand, so unfortunately there was nothing she could do if that possibility came to fruition. 
“So, what is it? Are you dating again?” Laura urged gently, getting up to put a sleepy Kai in his crib. 
“God, no. I, uh…” Y/N began, sweating profusely, “I adopted hybrids. Friday.”
Silence rang out on the other ends of the lines, Y/N biting her lip hard enough to draw some blood. And then, deafening chaos. 
“You WHAT?” Alice roared, spooking Heathcliff off of the couch and out of view. Cringing, Y/N watched Laura scramble out of Kai’s room to bolt into her own, shutting the door so she could join in on the yelling. 
“I thought hybrids weirded you out?! Y/N, what happened? Are you going through a quarter-life crisis?” Laura enunciated in an intense tone, looking like a stern school teacher. 
“Guys, please! They can probably hear you,” Y/N begged desperately, pulling her quilt over her head in an attempt to muffle the sounds coming from her phone. 
“How many? Y/N, I can’t even begin to articulate how insane this is for you. I mean seriously, are they kids? Do you have men living in your house right now?” Alice began to panic, running a hand through her bouncy curls in distress. Cringing, Y/N turned the volume on her phone down to the lowest possible setting, trying to ignore her bloody lip in the reflection of the camera. 
“Y/N. How many? You know what, fuck it. I’m coming over and canceling my reading tonight,” Alice continued after Y/N’s tense silence, the window showing her frantically getting off her couch to yank her car keys from the hook by her apartment door. 
“Alice, no–” Y/N yelped, bolting upright in bed as Laura joined in on the chaos. 
“Alice, relax! You can’t cancel that reading, your publisher’s going to be there,” Laura reminded her twin, her pretty face pinched in concern as she continued to tug on her braids anxiously. With a groan, Alice dropped her keys on the phone, giving Y/N a scathing look. Taking a deep breath, Y/N decided to give all of the details to prevent any more rash ideas. 
“There’s seven of them, and yeah, they’re men…” Y/N began in a shaky voice, trying to ignore Laura’s gasps of horror. “They’re really sweet, all of them, and I think things are going very well so far.”
“Yeah, until one decides to enter your bedroom in the middle of the night!” Alice interjected, shaking her head constantly. Blanching, Y/N coughed, wondering how the hell she was going to face the hybrids later that evening, God forbid they heard the conversation. 
“No, that’s not going to happen. I… trust them. Listen, they were all going to be sold to a hybrid hunter, and I just couldn’t bear the thoughts of what would happen to them after I saw them at the shelter. No one should have to live like that, running for their lives, an object of sport,” Y/N defended the hybrids, thinking about shutting herself into her closet to lessen the chances of Namjoon hearing her just a few feet down the hall. 
“Well, that’s all very valiant of you, Y/N, but let’s be real, here. They’re still men that you just met, living in your home!” Alice spat in a more hushed tone, as all of their yelling had woken Kai up even through the phone. 
“I hate to be a bummer, too, Y/N, but Alice is right. I’m really worried for you. Hybrids are very strong, and they still have animalistic instincts. You’re not used to being around hybrids, you’ve practically avoided them your entire life, apart from Keaon when we were little,” Laura added, trying her best to soothe Kai wailing from his crib. 
“God, what’s with people bringing up Keaon lately, I swear…” Y/N huffed, so aggravated that she was thinking of asking Jeongguk for a cigarette after she hung up. “I’ll be fine! I was a vet, remember, that has to count for something. And my parents already met them. There's the cookout on Friday, too, so you guys can meet them and make an assessment then.”
“Oh, so you want us to wait four more days for the cookout to feel out whether they’re creeps or not?” Alice deadpanned, Y/N yanking her hair at her roots. 
“C-creeps,” Y/N squeaked, tearing a bigger hole into her bloodied lip. 
“They might be! For all you know,” Alice replied, though her tone began to soften when realizing how upset Y/N was becoming. “Just please be careful, Y/N. You’re known to be too trusting.”
“Yeah, honey. We just want you to be safe,” Laura grit out, hefting Kai out of his crib and trying to juggle the phone while she pat his back. Y/N sighed raggedly, grateful for her caring friends, but quite sad that she seemed to be one of the only people so far to actually believe that the hybrids were non-threatening. 
“I’m safe, I promise,” Y/N murmured, gathering up her quilt to combat the chill she felt washing over her. The drafty window in her bathroom had to be tackled this week. Alice audibly cringed at Kai’s sobs, increasing in volume steadily. 
“I gotta go, my loves. I think he needs to be changed. Be safe, Y/N, and good luck tonight, Al,” Laura shifted Kai to sit on her hip, his tear-stained cheeks wobbling as he cried. 
“Shit. I should start prepping for my reading, too,” Alice began ruffling some papers off-screen, though Y/N could tell she was still unconvinced by the whole hybrid thing. 
“Call you guys on Thursday?” Y/N asked in a small voice, guilty that she had upset her friends. 
“Of course. We need regular status updates or I will come over there,” Alice threatened, the edge in her tone gone, however. She offered Y/N a half-smile, the three women exchanging “I love you”s before hanging up. 
Groaning as her phone hit the pillow beside her, Y/N ran a palm over her face tiredly. She strained her ears for a moment, trying to locate where the hybrids were in the house, but she was met with complete silence. Frowning, she decided there was no way she was going out there so soon after the messy phone call, pulling her laptop onto her chest and fumbling blindly for the thick envelope of adoption certificates she had received at the shelter that morning resting on the nightstand. 
The papers were weighty, a gold seal stamped over each one and the thick script of both her name and the hybrid’s name printed in stark black ink. Squinting, she searched for the ID number on the certificate she was holding– Yoongi’s, spotting it with an ah-ha at the bottom left corner of the paper. Excitement surrounding learning some new things about the hybrids, taking over the discomfort she was feeling over the phone call with her friends, Y/N brought up the hybrid database on her laptop, plugging the 9-digit ID for Yoongi into the appropriate search bar. The screen took a few moments to load, before a spreadsheet flashed onto the page. 
The first thing she noticed was an outdated picture of Yoongi, from probably about three years ago. His cheeks were filled out, and he looked a lot healthier, it dawning on Y/N that he now had dark circles under his green-brown eyes. Pouting at the picture, she recognized the second as him in his leopard form, the background most definitely of the shelter she had adopted him at. The rest of the spreadsheet had information. 
Yoongi, Min; panthera pardus. DOB 03/09/93. Place of Origin: unknown. Was illegally claimed without formal adoption by Boston, MA “The Black Lodge” bar and nightclub owner **** ******, along with hybrid’s mother of same species. Performed illegal hybrid labor since childhood at the place of business. Mother now deceased. Was turned into Gerry’s Hybrids by nightclub owner’s son upon his father’s death. THREAT LEVEL: 6/10 - HYBRID PHYSICALLY RESISTED APPREHENSION ONCE REPORTED, TWO AGENTS INJURED. 
Hand over her mouth as she read, Y/N couldn’t help but feel like her heart was breaking. Even with the small amount of information on Yoongi, it was deeply personal; she didn’t even know Yoongi had a mother, as the majority of hybrids were lab created. Anger rose up in her when she thought of Yoongi being kicked out of a place he had known all his life, saving the form to her computer and reluctantly moving to the next certificate at random. 
Jimin, Park; canis latrans. DOB 10/13/95. Place of Origin: Yellowstone National Park Hybrid Lab. Worked as ranch hand in the Yellowstone National Park from birth, up until 07/22 of the current calendar year. Abandoned position, and illegally crossed-country by bus, was found wandering streets of Boston, MA in a frantic manner. THREAT LEVEL: 6/10 - HYBRID HAS BEEN TRAINED IN SEVERAL FORMS OF SELF DEFENSE AND IS EXPERT IN SELF PRESERVATION, AS PER HIS PREVIOUS EMPLOYMENT TRAINING. EXHIBITS ANXIETY IN CLOSED SPACES. 
Eyebrows pulling together, Y/N examined the lovely picture of Jimin on the form, his smile just as blinding through the screen. He had on the hat that she had returned to him upon taking the hybrid’s previous belongings back from Gerry. Jimin, nor Yoongi, for that matter, seemed to strike her as a 6/10 “threat level”. Shaking her head, she figured that whoever wrote the spreadsheets were likely biased against hybrids in general, how ironic. Eagerly, she moved on – Hoseok’s sweet face filling her screen with an extremely old picture of him, perhaps during his adolescence.
Hoseok, Jung; vulpes vulpes. DOB 02/18/94. Place of Origin: Paris Hybrid Lab. Raised in labs internationally since birth. Transferred 24 times. Remained unadopted throughout, despite several possible adoptions that ultimately fell through. Has aged out of lab adoption centers by the time he had reached Boston, MA. Upon unsuccessfully meeting requirements for shelters in MA due to temperament, hybrid was brought to Gerry’s Hybrids. THREAT LEVEL: 5/10 - HYBRID KNOWN FOR DECEIT, CUNNINGNESS AND ATTEMPTED ESCAPE OF SEVERAL SHELTERS. HYBRID EXCELS IN ATHLETICS AND CAN SUCCESSFULLY OUTRUN PURSUERS. FLIGHT RISK.
Eyes bugging out at the “24 times” Hoseok had been moved around the world, from shelter to shelter, Y/N muttered a colorful cuss. It was no wonder Hoseok had been so weird when Jimin asked where he was from, Hoseok was seemingly from both everywhere and nowhere. 
Next, Y/N plugged in Taehyung’s ID number, thrumming her fingers against her laptop while the page loaded. Taehyung’s picture was extremely blurry, almost akin to a mugshot. Taehyung’s eyes looked vacant in the photo, Y/N shivering, then gasping when she saw how little information the form had. 
Taehyung, Kim; ursus arctos middendorffi. DOB 12/30/95. Place of Origin: unknown. Report called in anonymously that an unadopted hybrid had been hiding at a 24-HR cafe for several weeks in Boston, MA before the hybrid was dropped off at Gerry’s Hybrids. THREAT LEVEL: 8/10 - HYBRID EXTREMELY UNWILLING TO BE APPREHENDED, COMBATIVE. DUE TO SIZE OF THE HYBRID WHEN SHIFTED, HYBRID IS TO BE REGARDED WITH CAUTION. MULTIPLE INJURIES TO AGENTS UPON APPREHENSION. 
Frowning, Y/N was disappointed she couldn’t glean more information about the already elusive and enigmatic Taehyung. He had told her he was from Alaska, which was missing from the form. Other than that, all Y/N gained from his form was his whereabouts just before his adoption. Again, she wrote off his ‘threat level’ as an over exaggeration; Taehyung was so gentle.
Grasping Jeongguk’s certificate while twisting her mouth, Y/N waited to see his smug face show up on her laptop screen. Like Taehyung’s, Jeongguk’s picture looked like a mugshot, his serious expression making her snort a little into her palm. Part of her wished it was an older picture– she loved seeing Hoseok’s from youth. 
Jeongguk, Jeon; cervus canadensis. DOB 09/01/97. Place of Origin: Los Angeles Hybrid Suppliers. Raised with others of his species in the supplier lab, hybrid was noted as uncharacteristically aggressive compared to kin. Hybrid is known to have escaped from Los Angeles Hybrid Suppliers at age of 20 and has been at large since. Was caught by hybrid patrol in abandoned Steinert Hall (Boston, MA) with several thousand dollars worth of recording equipment and other oddities. Hybrid was promptly brought to Gerry’s Hybrids due to extremely volatile behavior during apprehension. THREAT LEVEL: 9/10 - HYBRID CONSIDERED HIGHLY DANGEROUS. WAS ARMED WITH WEAPONS AT THE TIME OF APPREHENSION, SKILLED AT FIGHTING, ERUPTIVE PERSONALITY. FLIGHT RISK. 
Y/N was rigid in her spot on her bed, not quite expecting so many brand new details into who Jeongguk was. Perhaps in her let-down of Taehyung’s report, she had expected Jeongguk’s to be similar. Biting her nails, she scanned his information again, wondering if everything she had read so far was overstated. While Jeongguk was certainly rude, he had yet to demonstrate dangerous behavior. Additionally, she had no idea what a supplier lab was.
Besides, what piqued her curiosity the most was not only his journey from Los Angeles to Boston, but how he was caught. Steinert Hall was an old piano concert hall in the heart of Boston that had been abandoned for years– he must have broken in– but why? Further, she wondered about the items he was caught with, recording equipment and “other oddities”. Was he filming a movie? The thought made her even more confused, and it was not like she could ask him yet. She had a feeling she’d be met with anger. 
The room began to get a little darker, late afternoon creeping up on her as she hurried to get through the last two hybrids. Setting the others aside carefully, she picked up Namjoon’s certificate, sliding a finger over his ID number. To her shock, barely anything showed up for Namjoon, not even a picture. 
Namjoon, Kim; canis lupus occidentalis. DOB 09/12/94. Place of Origin: unknown. Report called in that an unadopted hybrid was participating in a club illegally. Hybrid was apprehended in shifted form around the outskirts of Boston, MA, outside of a mobile home. Brought to Gerry’s Hybrids promptly due to shifted state and volitility. THREAT LEVEL: 10/10 - HIGHLY DANGEROUS. INJURED 6 AGENTS SERIOUSLY. BEHAVIOR IS EXTREMELY AGGRESSIVE. SUSPECTED TO BE RAISED IN WILDERNESS DUE TO BEHAVIOR. 
Swallowing hard, Y/N cast a look over towards her bedroom door, convinced that Namjoon could hear her thoughts as she read through his information. She had only interacted with Namjoon for only a few hours, and he didn’t seem as though he had been raised in the wilderness; Y/N just assumed he was slow to hand his trust over. Though– he injured six agents? This came as quite the surprise to Y/N, as she had naively thought that agents that brought in stray hybrids were trained to be cautious; however, she had come to a strong conclusion that the agents were likely people who provoke stray hybrids into aggression. Thinking once again about Yoongi, who was one of the most gentle of the hybrids so far, she couldn’t imagine him injuring somebody unwarranted. 
Heaving a great sigh, she plugged in Seokjin’s number before tucking all of the certificates safely back inside the envelope on her nightstand. To her sudden delight, a very old picture of Seokjin was attached to the page, estimating him to be about twelve in the photo. His cheeks were cutely rounded, though his expression was quite stoic. 
Seokjin, Kim; panthera onca. DOB: 12/04/92. Place of Origin: Milwaukee Hybrid Lab. Raised in a group of over 300 exotic hybrids to be sold to circuses and zoos. Hybrid was exemplary subject at lab, was sold to Cirque ******* at age of 22. Traveled and performed with the circus up until 08/13 of the current calendar year following incident at a show in Boston, MA resulting in hybrid injury. Hybrid was left at Gerry’s Hybrids, consequently. THREAT LEVEL: 6/10 - HYBRID DOES NOT HAVE A PAST OF AGGRESSIVE BEHAVIOR PRIOR TO INJURY. SUFFERS FROM EXTREME PTSD, ANXIETY AND PHOBIAS - IF TRIGGERED, HYBRID BECOMES ALARMED AND POSSIBLY DANGEROUS. FLIGHT RISK. 
Y/N felt nauseous reading about Seokjin’s past, wanting to hurl her laptop clear across the room. Sweet Seokjin, the one who didn’t mind when she grabbed his wrist to pull him along, the one who polished off the bacon that morning, had suffered such an abrupt abandonment recently. To learn that was how hybrids were treated by a company that was entrusted with his care, with such little regard to what happens to them after they are no longer “of use”, made Y/N sick to her stomach. All she wanted was to dash into Seokjin’s room to gather him up in a hug, recalling how feverish and dismayed he was the day he had arrived in the house. He had recovered remarkably well, considering, but Y/N still felt he’d have a long way to go before he truly recovered from the experience. 
Laying back in bed, desperately trying to process everything she’d read, her brain was a jumbled mess. Echoes of her friend’s valid concerns on whether or not she could handle the seven hybrids bounced around in her skull; and guilt crept into her body as she doubted whether or not she could. Of course, she would never consider bringing them back, abandoning them again, but she wanted them to live happy lives. Y/N wasn’t entirely sure if all of them would truly ever be comfortable around her, considering their past treatments. She worried that she wouldn’t be able to hide her anxiety from them that night, Yoongi’s conversation with her the previous night coming back to her once more. They’d be able to sniff out her nervous sweat from a mile away. 
The more she thought about her conversation with Yoongi, minor details came back to her. Namely, before they were interrupted, Yoongi had begun to talk about something called scenting. She never got around to asking him about it earlier that day, as he had promptly dashed up to the piano after returning from the shopping center. Curiously, she reached for her laptop she had pushed off her legs in disgust, googling “hybrid scenting” and clicking on a wiki page at random. 
Again, Y/N’s nausea returned. According to the article, hybrids, in order to properly bond with the humans that adopt them, must “scent” the human to feel secure. Hybrids are known to be possessive over the humans in their lives, particularly their adoptive human, and will initiate their scenting ritual once comfortable enough around the human. Scenting can happen often or rarely depending on hybrid type, predators are likely to scent more frequently, but it wasn’t an exact data collection. The actual ritual included a bite, one that drew blood from the human and in a location close to arteries (where scents are apparently “concentrated” to hybrids), before saliva from the hybrid soothes and “cauterizes” the wound. Feeling her stomach flip at the thought of any of the hybrids not only biting her, but then soothing the wound with a swipe of a tongue, was so overwhelming she had to shut her laptop and bolt out of bed. 
Cursing Yoongi internally for not disclosing scenting first, Y/N fanned her face frantically while she paced about the room. Should she bring it up to them? The thought was humiliating, but the article stated the longer the hybrids wait to scent their adoptive human, the more uncomfortable it gets for them. Apart from Yoongi, none of them even mentioned it yet, which was concerning to her. She knew that the shame fell on her, for not knowing basically a thing about hybrids in general. However, she still didn’t feel ready to bring it up over dinner. 
Yelping at the sound of a large thump coming from above her, Y/N slapped her palms over her face a few times to return the color back to her cheeks, her appearance in the full-length mirror positively scandalized. The sound of Jeongguk’s heavy stomping from back and forth into his bathroom made her spring into action, wanting to bolt into the kitchen and work on dinner so Yoongi wouldn’t have to. Casting one last look at herself in the mirror, feeling like she looked calm enough to bump into one of them without raising suspicion, Y/N slowly pushed her bedroom door open and peeked her head out. The hallway was empty. 
Taking a deep breath, Y/N marched out into the hall, skipping past Namjoon’s door; unsurprisingly it swung open once she reached the end of the hall. Pausing, she looked over her shoulder, offering Namjoon a tiny smile as he poked his head out of the door. His silvery hair was damp and in his face, likely from the shower. She hadn’t even heard it turn on. Y/N waited for Namjoon to catch up with her, his expression hard to read once he was inches away. Finding it hard to look him in the eyes, Y/N resumed her route to the kitchen without a word, Namjoon hot on her heels. 
“Who was on the phone?” Namjoon demanded, a slight edge to his voice but the volume of it was not enough to frighten Y/N. Blowing hair out of her face, she knew Namjoon could hear her, but she could still pray the others hadn’t. 
“My friends from childhood, they’re twin sisters, Laura and Alice,” Y/N answered simply, not wanting to over explain. The kitchen was dim, Y/N flicking on all the lights and gesturing for Namjoon to sit on one of the barstools. Lifting a brow at her, Namjoon hesitantly sat down, Y/N trying to keep the mood light. At least he seemed to have cooled down from whatever ticked him off after getting ice cream. 
“They don’t like us. They think you’re in danger,” Namjoon leaned back on the barstool, arms crossed over his chest. Sighing, Y/N retrieved two wine glasses from the cabinet, pouring a healthy amount of Cabernet for the two of them and sliding the glass for Namjoon across the island. Eyebrow shooting up further into his hairline, Namjoon watched her take a hearty swig. 
“What do you want me to say, Namjoon? I made an uncharacteristic decision, and to be fair, you are all men. They have a right to be worried about me, no matter how unfounded it seems to you. It’s not that they don’t like you, either. I think if anything, they’re questioning my sanity,” Y/N stated calmly, finally mustering up the courage to stare at him directly in the eyes, leaning over the island. Taking another sip of wine, she waited for the wheels to turn in his head. 
“Do you think you’re in danger?” Namjoon continued to interrogate after a few moments, long fingers running up and down the stem of his wine glass. Humming, Y/N felt the red wine warm her belly, close enough to Namjoon to feel his breath fan over her face. 
“No. Should I?” Y/N countered, pushing herself off of the counter in search of something to scrounge up for dinner. She heard the scrape of glass across the granite island, peeking over her shoulder to catch Namjoon, eyes cast upwards mid-eyeroll, glass to his lips. 
Silent for a few moments, Y/N started to hum a tune suspiciously close to Smells Like Teen Spirit, rummaging through one of the lower cabinets for a rice cooker. Wondering just how much rice she’d have to make for eight people, she hefted the appliance and a 15 lb bag of sushi rice onto the counter beside the stove. Biting her lip, then wincing at the pain from the hole she had bitten into it earlier, Y/N estimated around 3.5 cups of uncooked rice in the pot, before bringing it to the sink to rinse it a few times. Pulling up the sleeves of her thermal, washed the rice until the water ran mostly clear. 
“I think you’d be a fool if you didn’t,” Namjoon suddenly pointed out, Y/N looking at him with surprise. His wine glass was empty, his eyes narrowed at her. Scoffing, she placed the pot of rice into the appliance, drying her hands on her sweatpants and switching on the rice cooker. Taking a deep breath, she painted a lopsided smile on her face, pouring Namjoon and herself a second glass. 
“Well, call me a fool then, for being optimistic,” Y/N muttered over the rim of her wine glass, Namjoon’s shoulders stiffening a fraction, his ear flickering. “Besides, the twins will be here for a cookout on Friday. If you’re still upset by then, you can talk it out with them. I think they’re scarier than you, Namjoon.”
“Please,” Namjoon snorted humorlessly, turning his head to drink from his glass. Shrugging, Y/N returned to the dinner making process, pulling vegetables, sauces, and a package of flank steak and the egg carton at random. She decided to make a bunch of things to stick in a rice bowl, and the hybrids could choose what they wanted. 
While rinsing some green onions, thankfully without any more questioning from the wolf hybrid brooding on the barstool across from her, Y/N heard footsteps approaching the kitchen. Perking up a little, perhaps hoping for someone to brighten up the mood, Y/N craned her neck towards the kitchen entrance. 
“Hey Seokjin! How are you doing?” Y/N grinned, pushing down the sadness that surfaced when she remembered the information she had just learned about him. Grinning back, Seokjin came up to her side, watching her chop the green onions, nodding once at Namjoon. “Wine?”
“Hmm, sure. I’m good, also. What are you making?” Seokjin cocked his head, putting his hand on her shoulder to reach a wine glass for himself when it was too high and far back for Y/N to get on her own. Shuddering at the sudden contact, Y/N hurriedly poured him a glass of the Cabernet, returning to the vegetable prep. 
“I’m making some vegetables, some beef, maybe a few fried eggs… figured we can just make our own rice bowls with ingredients you like,” Y/N explained, slicing through a bell pepper. Seokjin leaned his hip against the counter beside her, watching carefully. 
“What happened to your lip? Are you okay?” Seokjin asked, a strong current of concern in his voice. Absently brushing her fingers by her lip, but not touching the skin, Y/N tried to shoot him a comforting look. 
“Oh I’m fine, don’t worry about me! I just bit it too hard. Happens all the time,” Y/N waved her hand, sliding the sliced peppers into a bowl with the flat of her knife. Seokjin grunted softly, apparently unconvinced, eyeing Namjoon distrustfully. The jaguar hybrid moved to sit on a barstool as well, a few away from Namjoon, settling in to watch her cook. 
“Hoseok made me do “yoga” with him,” Seokjin informed her, his lips curling around the apparently unfamiliar word, making air quotes simultaneously. Using her elbow to wipe a stray tear from her eye chopping an onion, Y/N giggled picturing the two hybrids meditating side-by-side. 
“Really? I love yoga, though I haven’t done it in a while…” Y/N tried to subtly monitor the two hybrids sitting across from her in case of an incident, Namjoon leaning his body across the island to help himself to more wine. Finding the bottle empty, he heaved a sigh, getting to his feet. 
He was easily able to find the wine cooler, carefully reading each label before selecting the same brand the three of them had been drinking, Seokjin and Y/N exchanging surprised looks. Namjoon used a sharp thumbnail to slice open the foil covering the cork on the bottle, frowning once he realized the bottle wasn’t open completely. He began opening drawers at random, likely searching for the opener, Y/N eyeing him while she began stir-frying some of the vegetables. Each time he came up empty-handed, his ears drooped further, looking almost adorable. 
“Need some help?” Came Yoongi’s gruff voice suddenly, pretty much materializing from the entrance to the kitchen from the parlor. Already feeling the wine dizzying up her head, she was grateful for any help at all to finish dinner. Making a small noise of delight, Y/N nodded, and Yoongi immediately began to assess the marinades and flank steak she had brought out from the fridge, using a rubber band from his wrist to tie up his long locks. Y/N made a mental note to dig up her bag of scrunchies to offer him later that night. 
While Yoongi and Seokjin began to chit-chat about the jaguar hybrid’s yoga experience, Namjoon had successfully located the bottle opener in the drawer beside where Y/N was stir-frying, aggressively trying to jam the corkscrew into the cork with gritted teeth. He definitely didn’t know how to use it. Taking pity on him, and more or less wanting a fresh glass of wine for herself, Y/N set her wooden spoon down, holding her palm out for the corkscrew. 
“Here, let me, honey,” Y/N stepped to the side, taking the wine opener from the wolf hybrid’s slackened grip, his entire body locking up at the sound of the pet name. Internally, she scolded herself as heat crept up her neck, but it was hard to resist the term of endearment when he looked so cute when he was frustrated. Hopefully, he wasn’t insulted. “It’s tricky, I’ll show you how my dad taught me.”
She briefly explained the steps, pulling up the cork halfway, before stepping away once more and talking him through the last step. Y/N could have sworn his ears, the human set adorned with simple silver hoops, turned a faint shade of pink, but she also could have imagined it. Namjoon muttered a thanks, swiftly refilling her glass for her, before dashing away a bit clumsily back to his own seat. Chuckling, she took a sip of her wine and returned to the frying pan, her elbow brushing Yoongi’s as he began both cooking the steak and making what appeared to be tamagoyaki in a second rectangle pan she didn’t even know she owned. Damn, she thought, he works fast. 
“Can I try some of that?” Yoongi jutted his chin towards her wine glass while he reached for the salt pinch bowl, his tail brushing the back of her knee with the movement. Wordlessly, she passed her glass over, Yoongi grinning slyly as he took a delicate sip. A low hum of enjoyment came from the back of his throat, Y/N hurriedly cracking some pepper into her frying pan to cover up her fluster. 
“Want a glass?” Y/N cleared her throat, Yoongi taking another sip and raising his eyebrows at her. 
“No, we can just share this one,” Yoongi chuckled, setting the wine glass on his side of the counter with a clink. Eyes bugging out of her skull, Y/N squeaked out an “okay”, trying her best to focus on finishing up her part of the meal prepping. Yoongi seemed to enjoy her reaction to his words, snickering every few seconds as he rolled up the tamagoyaki with a pair of chopsticks. 
“You had an interesting phone call, huh?” Yoongi passed her the wine glass after several moments, Y/N reeling as she was snapped out of eavesdropping on Seokjin’s attempts to initiate conversation with Namjoon. 
“Shit. Did everyone hear it?” Y/N hissed, after almost choking on her mouthful of wine. “You were upstairs, for Christ’s sake, weren’t you?” 
“Yeah, we did. And yes, I was,” Yoongi answered playfully, covering his completed steak dish and moving to slice the tamagoyaki. “I mean, your friends weren’t exactly speaking softly.”
“No, they weren’t,” Y/N agreed mournfully, wondering if the remaining hybrids had their feelings hurt, due to their absences. Currently, it was the longest she had gone without seeing Taehyung, other than when she was sleeping, since she brought him home. “Next time I’ll wear headphones,” she added determinedly. 
“Mmm… that might help. Might not. Super hearing, remember?” Yoongi pointed to one of his spotted ears, a teasing lilt to his voice. Y/N rolled her eyes dramatically, abandoning him by the stove to check on the rice. Muttering to herself, Y/N turned to the island with a rice paddle, wishing Yoongi hadn’t stolen her wine glass for the time being. Out of the corner of her eye, she spotted a third person sitting at the island beside Seokjin, swirling a whiskey glass in his hand.
“Oh! Didn’t hear you come in, Jimin!” Y/N exclaimed, catching the coyote hybrid’s attention at once. Flashing one of his beautiful smiles, Y/N relaxed a fraction. Jimin was so polite, even if he had heard Laura and Alice over the phone, Y/N hardly expected him to say anything about it. “You guys have a knack for sneaking up on me.”
“Darling Y/N, it’s not our fault you have plain old human ears,” Hoseok’s voice suddenly came from her left, making her flinch so hard she dropped the rice paddle on the floor. Gritting her teeth, she turned to scold him for being mean, his face apologetic as he bent to get the rice paddle for her. He was dressed in a set of pajamas, with his new slippers on, freshly showered; grinning at her as he extended the rice paddle out to her. “Whoops, sorry. Forgot you were clumsy, too.”
“Hoseok!” Seokjin barked from his seat at the island, corners of his lips turned downwards in disapproval. Hoseok made that strange whistle tone Y/N was becoming increasingly familiar with, his expression becoming uneasy once his chocolatey eyes landed on Namjoon sitting at the end of the island. “Knock it off,” Seokjin ordered. 
“Relax, Jinnie, I’m only teasing,” Hoseok replied, his voice a little strained as he patted Y/N on the back. Grimacing, she went back to fluffing up the rice in the cooker, Yoongi shooing Hoseok over to the breakfast nook by handing him the platter of sliced tamagoyaki. Starting to feel a bit sweaty, the red wine coursing through her with a vengeance, Y/N polished off her shared glass of wine much to Yoongi’s dismay. 
Y/N snuck a look at Namjoon, who had turned his head to stare at Hoseok with mild interest. Namjoon’s cheeks were pink with the alcohol, and a majority of his steeliness had softened. Absently, Y/N found herself pouring him a glass of water from the fridge door dispenser, sliding it across the island to the wolf hybrid while Seokjin continued to scold Hoseok from his seat. 
Her and Yoongi worked quickly to place everything on the breakfast nook, Y/N feeling quite tipsy suddenly as she found herself giggling at everything that came out of Yoongi and Seokjin’s mouths. Vaguely, she heard Yoongi ask her if she could call upstairs for Taehyung and Jeongguk, obediently following his direction and slightly swaying her way to the foyer. The loud voices of the hybrids from the kitchen had her practically squealing like an idiot, so pleased that she wasn’t alone in that big house anymore. Upon reaching the banister of the stairs, Y/N gripped one of the carved balusters with clammy hands. 
“Jeongguk, Taehyung! Dinner is ready,” Y/N shouted up the stairs, probably more loudly than necessary. Humming to herself, she caught an image of her reflection in the hallway mirror, her cheeks flushed and eyes a bit squinted. Two sets of footsteps bounded down the wooden staircase rapidly. Without wasting a second, Jeongguk flew right by her, head turned to look at her suspiciously as he passed. Pouting at his frame retreating into the kitchen, she turned back to Taehyung, who was leaning over the banister she was gripping, staring at her curiously. 
“Were you drinking wine?” Taehyung cocked his head, a ghost of a smile across his lips as he leaned in close to her. Both overwhelmed and overjoyed to see him, Y/N nodded enthusiastically. 
“Did you find the record player, Tae?” Y/N asked eagerly, wanting to push a stray curl out of his face to see his pretty garnet-colored eyes better. She didn’t even register the nickname for him that had easily fallen from her lips, but Taehyung certainly did. 
“Tae?” His deep voice rumbled with amusement, leaning even closer to her, Y/N widened her eyes, practically able to count his eyelashes. For a moment, she thought he was going to kiss her. 
“Y-yeah, sorry, it just sort of fell out,” Y/N spoke nervously, barely above a whisper due to his proximity. Taehyung shook his head, chuckling, his curls brushing her forehead with the moment. 
“No, I like it,” Taehyung quickly assured her, pulling away from her personal space and descending the remaining stairs. “Let’s go, Jimin is wondering where you are.”
Trying to catch her breath, Y/N turned to gaze into the kitchen, noticing Jimin heading to the foyer with his whiskey glass in his hand, a quizzical expression on his face. Hurrying after Taehyung, who kept shooting her mirthful glances, Y/N swore under her breath. Those hybrids were definitely trying to mess with her, she concluded, stumbling over her own feet to catch up with Taehyung’s long strides. 
Thankfully, when she felt herself nearly toppling over by the coffee bar, Jimin caught her by her elbow, tutting in disapproval with a touch of merriment in his eyes. Sheepishly, she let him steady her, feeling like she was being herded as he walked behind her with both hands around her upper arms to steer her towards the breakfast nook. Waving Jimin off, embarrassed, Y/N slid into the booth next to Hoseok. Jimin, snickering, returned to his barstool beside Seokjin. 
“You should take it easy with that red,” Hoseok murmured into her ear, scooching his own glass further away from her when she surreptitiously tried to sneak a sip. “One of us is going to have to scrape you off the floor.”
“No you won’t. I can drink,” Y/N insisted, slightly offended. She stuck out her lower lip at the fox hybrid, who appeared to be trying not to laugh at her. Muttering something like “mean fox”, Y/N begrudgingly took a gulp from a glass of water that had somehow appeared in front of her as if by magic. 
“Sure,” Hoseok hummed, accepting two bowls of rice from Yoongi, ferrying them back and forth to everyone in the kitchen. Hoseok set a bowl gently in front of Y/N, his arm pressing into her’s with how close she had sat next to him. 
As she was piling on some vegetables into her bowl, a couple of the hybrids leaned across the breakfast nook to add an ingredient to their own dishes before returning to a barstool. Unfortunately, not all of them could fit in the breakfast nook, Taehyung across from her, Jeongguk squeezed in between the Kodiak hybrid and Hoseok. Munching on a piece of tamagoyaki, Y/N flinched when she felt the empty space beside her fill up clumsily by Namjoon, who had inelegantly toppled into the booth with his bowl. Surprised, Y/N pressed closer to Hoseok, trying to free up more space for Namjoon’s large frame. Namjoon must have been more tipsy than she thought, barely even noticing Taehyung scowling at him from across the table. In fact, Namjoon seemed completely relaxed for once, his cheeks full of rice and meat as he ate. 
“Ugh,” Hoseok groaned lowly, blood in his face draining as he pushed food around in his bowl with his chopsticks. Y/N patted his back soothingly, hoping he’d be able to push past his fear of Namjoon enough to eat. Especially considering Namjoon had rice stuck to his face, he wasn’t exactly threatening at the moment. 
“The tamagoyaki is delicious, Yoongi!” Y/N called over to the island, the leopard hybrid’s ears immediately perking up. Looking over his shoulder, he smirked at her, holding up a stir-fried pepper with his chopsticks. 
“Good job with the vegetables, yourself,” he returned, his sharp incisors flashing as he took a bite of the pepper. 
Luckily, the meal passed by amicably. Taehyung had worked up the courage to start a conversation with Hoseok, likely due to noticing the fox hybrid’s discomfort with Namjoon’s presence. As always, Jeongguk mostly kept to himself, but very visibly enjoyed the contents of his meal, even asking Yoongi for more rice. Y/N eased off of Hoseok a bit, his skin far too warm for her to comfortably lean against for a second longer, forcing her to be pressed closer to Namjoon. Thankfully, he seemed to be running a bit cooler than the fox hybrid, the fabric of his thermal soft against Y/N’s forearms. At the contact with her body heat, Namjoon jumped a little, his hand knocking over Y/N’s empty water glass. 
“Whoops! Good thing it’s empty,” Y/N giggled, righting the glass and peering at Namjoon’s startled face. He was staring at where their arms touched, tongue peaking out to catch some steak sauce on his lower lip. Making eye contact with her, Namjoon actually chuckled over his minor blunder, to Y/N’s delight. 
“Is this your first time drinking, or something, wolf?” Jeongguk suddenly accused, eyebrows lifted as he witnessed Y/N and Namjoon drunkenly giggling at nothing. Y/N frowned, hoping that he wasn’t about to sour another evening. Namjoon stopped laughing, setting his chopsticks down in a wobbly manner. 
“Yeah, actually,” Namjoon answered, Y/N’s eyes bugging out of her skull while Jeongguk pounded on his chest, a mouthful of rice going down the wrong way at the wolf hybrid’s response. 
“Wait, seriously?” Y/N gasped, a hand over her mouth in surprise. Namjoon nodded somberly, his lips pursed. Hoseok, quietly, tugged Y/N sweatpant leg, giving her a disbelieving look and mouthing what the fuck. 
“Yes, seriously. I didn’t really have many… opportunities to drink alcohol in my life,” Namjoon explained, eyes narrowing at Taehyung from across the table. Taehyung looked unimpressed with the conversation, sipping on his own glass of wine silently. 
“Jesus. I should have asked before liquoring you up earlier,” Y/N rubbed the back of her neck, swearing to herself to try and make more healthy choices as far as food and beverages go for the hybrids. Hoseok snorted next to her, draining his wine glass less shakily than he had before. At least he was loosening up, and she counted it as progress. 
“It’s alright. I knew what it was when you poured it, I could have refused,” Namjoon sighed, a small smile across his face as he pushed his empty rice bowl away. Glancing sideways at Jeongguk, Y/N watched him try to bite back laughter, crumpling up his napkin into his bowl.
Stirring ingredients into her bowl, Y/N tried her best to finish everything in it. Yoongi was truly an amazing chef, the seasonings on the steak were perfect and paired very well with the sweetness of the tamagoyaki. She could definitely get used to his cooking, thinking that he could even help her out with some of the food for the cookout on Friday. Additionally, she had the piano lesson with him on that day, the thought making her squirm in her seat with excitement.  
At the island, upon checking on the other three hybrids from her spot at the breakfast nook, it appeared that Yoongi and Seokjin were fighting over the last bit of steak. After a few moments of bickering, Seokjin reluctantly placed the piece of meat in Yoongi’s bowl, to Y/N’s relief. Jimin had finished his meal, and was by the fridge putting ingredients back in their places. 
After asking Namjoon to scooch out of the booth so she could help with clean-up, Y/N had to resist helping him get his footing, not wanting to push her luck with him that night. He caught himself on the frame of the door to the patio, Y/N truly amazed just how friendly he got with just a few glasses of wine. She wondered if in the morning, he would go back to being steely and interrogative. Hoseok, leaping out of his seat, immediately put distance between himself and the wolf hybrid, traipsing over to Jimin to chat. 
Moving to the island, she asked Seokjin if he ate enough while he bashfully nodded, not a speck of food left in his bowl. In fact, they had no leftovers, Y/N realized as she collected serving dishes, trying to be as balanced as possible so Hoseok wouldn’t accuse her of being a lightweight again. Squeezing past Yoongi at the sink, she deposited the dirty dishes beside him, searching for the granite cleaner. However, she didn’t get very far in her pursuit to clean up. 
“Hey! You two cooked, we can clean,” Jimin suddenly complained, pulling Yoongi away from the sink. “Miss Y/N, you should sit down, before you injure yourself,” he added calmly, snapping his fingers and pointing at her while shooting Seokjin a look. 
Opening her mouth to protest, she felt herself getting dragged away by the jaguar hybrid, who promptly lifted her off of her feet and planted her on a barstool. Squeaking when Seokjin wrapped his hands around her waist to lift her, Y/N felt torn that his hands were gone as quickly as they were there. Face on fire, she watched Jimin push Yoongi onto the seat next to her, the leopard hybrid rolling his eyes and instructing the coyote hybrid to not use steel wool on the ceramics. 
Forced to watch Jimin, Hoseok, and Taehyung tidy up the kitchen, Y/N drummed her fingers against the granite of the island, craning her neck to locate Jeongguk and Namjoon. The wolf hybrid, to her surprise, was viewing a video that Jeongguk was playing on his phone over the elk hybrid’s shoulder, his eyebrows pulled together in thought. Jeongguk, very quietly, was murmuring something urgently to Namjoon. Y/N wondered if hell froze over, or if she should go to the liquor store the following morning to pick up more cases of that particular Cabernet. 
Taehyung, returning an unused bag of edamame to the freezer, pulled out a popsicle for himself, leaning on the island beside her to enjoy it while Jimin and Hoseok finished the cleaning. Seokjin, who had excused himself to the bathroom five minutes prior, returned with the ends of his bangs wet, like he had splashed water on his face. 
“Taehyung, where did you get that? I want one too,” Hoseok whined, eyes zeroing on the frozen treat in his hands. Taehyung pointed to the freezer drawer with the treat, Hoseok scoffing. “Thanks, real specific,” He mumbled, rummaging through the freezer to locate one of the mango popsicles. 
Seokjin, wiping down the breakfast nook, began humming a tune, the timbre of his voice sweet, though the song was quite melancholy. Y/N gazed at him over her shoulder, catching the bittersweet smile on his face while he hummed. Sighing, Y/N settled into the barstool, enjoying the sounds of everyone’s voices as they bantered. Her eyelids felt heavy, her palm leaning on her cheek, her brain yelling at her to stay awake to enjoy more time with her companions. 
After a few moments, her eyes snapped open, an eerie silence filling the room. She registered Jimin, across from her at the sink, his eyes trained at the threshold of the kitchen and his ears perked up in alert. Blinking, she noticed Hoseok was locked up rigidly in the same manner, opening her mouth to ask what was wrong. Swiftly, she was cut off. 
From upstairs came a large thump, Y/N’s blood running cold. Yoongi, from beside her, wrapped a hand around her wrist, putting a finger to his lips when she looked at him in panic. Silent again, for a moment, she strained her ears the best she could, her heart racing. Was there an intruder in the house? Or worse, was the paranormal situation escalating before she could tell them about it? 
Breaking the silence came the sound of the record player in the piano room crackling to life, the sounds of an old jazz record floating down the stairs hauntingly. Feeling the room grow several degrees cooler, Y/N began to hyperventilate, totally unprepared for the night to take a horror-movie turn. Squeezing her wrist in an attempt to soothe, Yoongi gave her a pleading look. In addition to the record player going off on its own, several pitchy notes on the piano began to ring out periodically. Nausea welling up inside her, Y/N began to shake, praying to the sky an apparition wouldn’t appear in front of everyone. She had not the faintest idea of how to handle the situation, let alone correct it, in her current state. 
“What the fuck is going on?” Hoseok spoke first, baring his teeth and gazing towards the stairs. Jeongguk, who had moved away from Namjoon in the commotion, ran a hand through his hair in stress. He began to chuckle humorlessly, locking eyes with Y/N. 
“There’s a fucking spirit on the grounds, and now it’s inside,” Jeongguk pulled out the silver amulet from his pocket, turning it over between his thumb and forefinger. “I’ve been trying to exorcize the house since I got here.”
“What?” Y/N breathed, feeling faint and overwhelmed. Yoongi moved to rub her back soothingly, but not much could be done to calm her down. She was already seeing spots of darkness in her vision. 
“It’s malevolent. It’s been following you around since you were a girl,” Jeongguk added distractedly, rolling up his sleeves, revealing tattoos that Y/N realized seemed to be made up of religious symbols from several cultures. With that, he squared his shoulders, exiting the kitchen and bounding up the stairs with determined confidence. 
“Jeongguk, don’t go up there!” Y/N cried, stumbling out of Yoongi’s embrace and fleeing after the elk hybrid. Between the shouts from the rest of the hybrids in the kitchen and the increased lack of oxygen she wasn’t getting, as soon as she reached the foyer, Y/N felt her body hit the marble before she felt nothing more. 
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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
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leilakisakabiri · 8 months
Text
Haunted House (Gavi)
Summary: You’re Gavi’s hometown friend and connect after months apart. One thing leads to another and soon you’re acting a little too friendly in a haunted house. 
Warning(s): None 
A/N: Surprise it’s me! I’ve missed you guys so much. Here’s a draft I had from a while ago. I heard there was a little Gavi drought so I’m here to provide. Also working on new stuff right now. Getting to requests soon!
Word Count: 2k+
Masterlist
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“Oh my god, you’ve grown so much!” You exclaimed, hugging Gavi as you got off the train.
“Shut up Y/n. You saw me last summer.”
“No seriously. Last time you were down here.” You retorted, moving your hand down near your shoulder to show how short he once was.
He let out a dry laugh, “Haha. Well, I’m still taller than you.”
“By an inch. And I’m a girl!”
“Wow I thought you were all about feminism Y/n wha-,”
You hit his shoulder in annoyance, cutting him off, “Not like that! I mean I’m on the taller side for girls, and you’re on the..” you trailed off a smile taking over your face as you saw him give you the dirtiest side-eye.
It was October in Barcelona and Autumn was in full swing. The wind wrapped around the both of you as you walked, the leaves falling encompassing the city in shades of orange and brown. The air was crisp, and the smell of hazelnut and toffee wafted through the air from various street vendors.
You finally approached your destination and you let out a squeal seeing how massive it was, “Holy shit I don’t think I’ve ever seen a bigger haunted house!”
You felt Gavi stiffen beside you, “Yeah it looked a lot smaller in the photos.”
You turned to look at him, eyes gleaming, “Oh c’mon tell me you’re not scared.”
“Pfft. What no way!”
You narrowed your eyes at him but let it slide. 
“Let’s go.” You said grabbing his wrist and pulling him along with you.
Once you had made it through the queue and got your tickets, the reality of the situation began to set it in.
The two of you were at Barcelona’s scariest and most famous haunted house. In years past attendees had fled the property saying they were too shocked and mentally scarred to recall what they saw. People had speculated for years that those customers had been paid off, and you believed it, now, however, standing in front of the gloomy house you were beginning to realize there could have been some truth to the story after all.
You were always a big fan of anything scary – after all Halloween was your favorite holiday for a reason. You were known in your friend group as the only one that would willingly watch horror movies, and play ‘supernatural’ games, always interested in the slightly darker things in life. However, even you, who could handle all of that, were a wee bit scared of the haunted house in front of you.
It was one thing to watch movies where you could predict what was going to happen, and yell at the main character through the screen, but to actually live through it, where someone could jump out at you around every turn was a little unnerving.
Especially since you were going with Gavi, someone who was notoriously known for avoiding those types of things at all costs. The only reason Gavi had agreed to come with you was because he had been asking you to come to Barcelona for weeks and this was the only way you would make the trip up. A compromise you could say. But now even you were wishing you took up Gavi’s offer to go to the aquarium instead.
The worker operating the front of the house called you over, pulling you from your thoughts.
“2?” He asked.
You both nodded, and he opened the door allowing you to enter.
You were greeted with a vast entry room with ceilings extending about 30 feet up and walls covered in cobwebs. The only light source was a barely there candlelight flickering in and out.
The monitor in front of you started playing. It explained the rules of the haunted house, and you felt yourself become more nervous once they started talking about the former customers they had tormented hard enough into leaving.
Suddenly the monitor cut off, leaving only the candlelight as a light source. You both watched as a new door creaked open.
You felt your palms begin to sweat.
You both stood rooted in place.
“Gavi,” You finally spoke, “Don’t take this the wrong way, but I’m kind of scared.”
Gavi whipped his head to look at you, panic already visible in his eyes, “Wait what?! Don’t say that Y/n, I’m already scared! You said you liked haunted houses!” He exclaimed.
You pursed your lips, “I usually do, but I feel on edge.”
The candlelight flickered off, leaving the two of you in complete darkness aside from the green glow of the open door.
“Oh shit Y/n I knew this was a bad idea. Fuck, what do we-?”
He didn’t even get to finish his sentence before a man with a chainsaw and a painted clown face jumped at him, sending the boy into overdrive.
He screamed, hands scrambling to grab your body as he rushed forward into the green glow, desperate to escape the killer clown.
Gavi’s scream set you into a fit of laughter, and you let yourself be tugged by him, too weak from laughing to stop him.
“Joder I swear I just went into cardiac arrest.” He said letting go of you and catching his breath.
You contained your laughter, only a few giggles escaping, beginning to feel at ease again now that the haunted house had officially begun.
“At least the first scare out of the way! The first one is always the scariest!” You said brightly walking forward, further into the house.
You felt him mutter something behind you, probably about how you were such a good friend for caring so much about him, but you didn’t give it a second thought too engrossed in the house.
You continued walking as random creatures jumped out of broken windows and walls trying to grab you, but you were quick to sidestep them. You noticed Gavi walking extremely close behind you to the point where you were sure that if you let your foot rest for a second longer on the ground he would step on it.
You finally stopped when you could feel him breathing down your neck, the little puffs of warm air sending tingles down your spine. 
“Y/n don’t make fun of me but I’m kinda scared.”
You just stared at him.
“Ok maybe really scared. This isn’t good for me you know, I have training I can’t be getting my blood pressure up like this.” He persisted.
You groaned, “Oh my god – fine just hold my hand.” You tried to remain annoyed but you couldn’t stop the flutter in your stomach when his warm hand enveloped yours.
You stared at each other and you debated saying something before the moment was cut short by Gavi’s shrill scream, having gotten scared by an actor that jumped out of the wall.
You pulled him along with you as you entered a vortex tunnel with a faulty bridge.
“Nope. No way, I’m going to have an aneurysm.” Gavi spoke once seeing the path, trying to pull his hand away but you held on tighter.
“There’s only one way to go. Just close your eyes and give me your other hand.” You argued.
He groaned but did as he was told, “I hate you.” He muttered as you moved to grab his other hand and put both over your shoulders standing in front of him.
“Oh please you love me.” You smirked, starting to make your way through the tunnel.
He didn’t answer but you felt his grip on your hands tighten and you smiled softly.
You were almost done with the tunnel when you abruptly stopped causing Gavi to run into you.
“Why are we stopping?” He asked.
You bit your lip, not wanting to admit the truth.
“What? Is it that scary?” He questioned opening his eyes.
“I don’t see anything?”
“There’s a bird.” You whispered, eyes never leaving the small bird flying manically around the hallway, seemingly trying to find its way out after getting trapped.
“Y/n Don’t tell me you’re still afraid of birds.” Gavi shook his head smiling.
You sneered, “Of course I am. Those things are demonic.”
He rolled his eyes at your antics.
You had been terrified of birds since the day you were born, anything that could fly, peck, and chase you scared the shit out of you. And now the fact that a bird was flying around frantically, in an enclosed space, that you had to walk through- oh shit, you were going to die here because there was no way you were walking past that bird on your own free will.
“Please keep moving.” An operator’s voice sounded.
You groaned, putting your head in your hands as you decided what to do.
“Y/n we have to go.” Gavi urged, attempting to move you forward but you stood still.
“Just give me a second.”
“Here I’ll hold you, ok? That way the bird can’t get to your eyes. Only mine.” Gavi spoke.
You laughed at his weak excuse for a joke, weighing your options, “Fine but if that thing even touches me I’m shoving you into it and running.”
Gavi smiled down at you as he wrapped an arm around you, “Oh Y/n what a sweetheart you are.”
You stuck your tongue out at him before curling into him, snuggling your face into the side of his sweater, and squeezing your eyes shut so the bird couldn’t claw them out.
He wrapped both arms around you, shielding your head and shoulders from the bird.
You felt the birds squawking get closer and pulled him even closer, “I got you linda relax.”
His voice was soft in your ear, and you focused your attention on him and the beating of his heart rather than the manic bird two inches away.
Once the threat had been cleared you lifted your head in disbelief, “You’re alive! I can’t believe it, I thought for sure the bird would have had one of your eyes at least.”
He gasped at you, his arms loosening around you, as he dropped one, the other sliding to rest on your waist, “Oh please. It wasn’t even bad, poor birdie just couldn’t find the exit.”
“Yeah poor birdie.” You muttered sarcastically.
The rest of the haunted house passed uneventfully, and thankfully there were no more jump scares, saving Gavi from the cardiac arrest he claimed would be happening any day now.
Gavi’s hand stayed around your waist for the remainder of the house and while you could lie and say it was because he was still scared, you knew that the way he was holding you and the way you were leaning into him was a little too friendly to just be because of ‘nerves’.
Once you got to the outside world again you moved away from him, your eyes adjusting to the light.
“Well, thanks for coming with me Gavi.” You said, feeling grateful that your blush had faded when you were still in the dark.
“Woah this again! What’s with Gavi?” He asked you, an irritated look on his face.
Your eyebrows rose in shock, “That’s your name?” You asked confused about why he seemed annoyed.
“No I’m Pablo.” He said referring to the name that nearly no one called him anymore.
“Pretty sure the whole country knows you as Gavi estupido.” You rolled your eyes, hand coming up to hit his head playfully.
Gavi grabbed your hand, squeezing it, “Yeah but to you, I’m Pablo, ok?” His voice was sincere, and his eyes were shiny and bright.
You gave him a puzzled look, but still squeezed back, “Ok.”
You went to drop your hands, but he caught you by surprise again, holding yours firmly, “I think I like this better. My hand’s a little cold. You know it being fall and all.”
You smiled biting the inside of your cheek to not give yourself away, stay cool Y/n! 
You nodded at him, “Oh for sure. Can’t have Barca’s golden boy falling sick.”
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hhhhleb · 25 days
Note
So…do you have any in detail things about the asylum AU? Like has Lyla met all the Mk boys? And the knows they are all different?
Hi! Thanks for the question!:3
I didn’t really thought it through as I drew, but your question made me think quite hard about it for a few days haha!
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I’m no psychologist and not nearly close to the level of knowledge in this sphere that requires that kind of au, so I’m really unsure of anything I can potentially write about it)) thus I’ll try to be as shallow as possible in everything that concerns mental health issues.
In this au there is no such thing as superpowers or anything supernatural. Marc&Layla are simple people in a simple mental hospital. They met and with time and lots of long conversations befriended. I know that the last point seems controversial to pt2 of my comics but,,, they builded their deep connection with each other with time. That’s how I see it at least.
Answering your questions, I think for her it’s like: sometimes this guy mumbles in Spanish and sits somewhere in the corner, sometimes he quotes some French poetry and bubbles tons of facts about Egyptology, sometimes he talks with her about everything in the world in her mother tongue, because he knows it makes her feel less anxious, feel like home. Maybe on some unconscious level she understands that there are three of them, but on a conscious level she doesn’t strictly distinguish them. It’s something like: ‘seems like today all he wants is to silently draw stories with me’ or ‘he called me ‘chérie’ so we can discuss some interesting moments in Egyptian philology’ or ‘oh there is this little worried frown on his face, he would love to braid my hair rn, it’s always soothes him’
For MKsystem(particularly for Marc) she’s just a ray of sunshine in the dark kingdom(named his ‘life’). He likes to see her happy and just be with her in a same room, likes to listen to her, to see sparkles in her eyes when he stumbles through Arabic to ask how she’s doing.
For Steven she’s a pure inspiration, he admires her sharp intelligence so much, he feels so cheered up by their crossed interests, and he really values how she genuinely likes to listen to him.
For Jake she’s someone who sees him, who respects him, someone who really cares about him. If he asks her not to touch him, she never does, but she’ll be still somewhere near so he would not feel lonely. She gives him all new pencils she finds, she asks about all lil drawings he does. And he respects her in return, when everything is too much he silently leads her to some quiet safe space, when she’s upset he gives her some vivid photos of the sandy country he got after some agressive bargaining in exchange for his things.
I’ve pondered how and why Layla got there, because for MK system it’s already clear(Harrow-with-moustaches said that Steven brought them there, ‘cause of their mom) Maybe she’s there because of her dad? Maybe she was a witness of his death(like in comics) and it changed her on some level or brought to the surface what’ve always been there. Idk I’m not really into headcanoning mental illnesses to characters,, so I guess it can remain a mystery to us)
So, all I know they’re married and make each other's days much more bearable and brighter:) There is really nothing else to do in this place except spending time with each other(it’s fun at least) so I feel like they talk a lot. Therefore Marc SIGNIFICATLY more open to her and she displays her real emotions more often, not trying to hide by some mask of a tough lady anymore. So I suppose their relationship in this au much healthier then in pre/during s1,, quite ironic innit (^^ゞ)
Well, there is still a huge field of questions in this au but I hope this little weird essay of mine made some things clearer for you:3
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strawberryya · 4 months
Text
The art of seduction - part one
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pairing: jeong yunho x reader
synopsis: Since she left you, it feels like your life has been turned upside down, and you're struggling to find your footing. He sees that, and he wants to help. Or maybe it's not as pure as that. Perhaps he's just looking for a new plaything — an artist to inspire, or someone to slowly destroy.
word count: 4.5k
genre/cw: angst, smut, suggestive, fantasy, thriller and/or romance, yandere themes, supernatural au, faery au, leanan sídhe!yunho, human!reader, they/them pronounces for reader, I tried my best to keep all descriptions gn as well - I welcome all feedback on this area ofc, grief and death depicted/mentioned, specific smut warnings will be listed in each part.
rating: 18+
a/n: this has been a big project for so many people this year, and I would like to thank all of the inspiring people in this collab for all the fantastic ideas that has been contributed to make all of these fics possible. it has been a journey writing this, but this fic is only the beginning of the even longer journey that yunho and our mc will be going on ;)
this is part one of my first fic for the wonderful collaboration thrill of the hunt, hosted by @cultofdionysusnet - check out the other exciting and thrilling stories on the official master list here!
the second part to this story will be found here once it's posted. if you wish to be tagged in the continuation you can dm me, send an ask, or comment on this post <3
network tagging: @svthub @cultofdionysusnet @k-labels @kvanity-main
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“Oh, he’s the most wonderful man I’ve ever met, y/n! He’s perfect… I didn’t think anyone could be so perfect until he came into my life. He makes me feel like I’ll never need anything ever again… like he and I are enough forever. I need you to meet him someday soon! I wanna introduce you to him, I promise you’ll love him too!”
You never got the chance to meet him. The more you think about it, the more you regret not making more of an effort to do so. Your best friend Anna had been in love with someone, and you hadn’t even had the chance to meet the man she spoke so fondly of. 
“I haven’t been feeling very good lately, y/n… I’ve been to the doctors and they say there’s nothing wrong. They said it’s all in my head, that I should go talk to someone… y/n, do you also think I’m making myself sick?” 
She only got weaker after that. 
And he had seemingly fallen off the face of the earth after she became bedridden. 
She said he came to visit, but she wasn’t in her right mind in those final weeks. Nobody had signed in at the reception. Nobody had seen a beautiful man with dark brown hair that gleamed blood-red when the sun shone. During all that time when she was admitted into the psychological ward at the city’s second-largest hospital you and Anna’s mom were the only visitors. 
They said she was mad…
You had wondered a lot about who he might’ve been during those times when she had talked about him as if she had just spoken to him, but nobody had seen anyone in her room. Had he been a fraction of her imagination the entire time? Or had her mind created a lie based on a man who had left her before her illness took over her mind and body? 
When she passed he was the one piece of the puzzle that you couldn’t let go of. If you had tried harder to meet him, would her illness have been caught earlier? Could it have been found and treated before it took her life…?
You’ve been staying late at the studio lately, trying to get through your feelings about losing her through your art. The shadows in the room seem to close in on you at every chance they get, and you don’t fight them. Hugged by the darkness is somehow better than being left so completely alone. 
The brush strokes soothe you like nothing else is able to. Fizzling seas crash along the shore, a looming tree stands barren and alone, and her face appears in the dark clouds. 
The only things you know to be true are that: she is gone, you are in pain, and you can only paint this one single picture. The lonesome tree at the cliff, watching the storms and waves trying to pull the ground away from beneath the large oak tree. You paint it over and over again, day after day, and you haven’t even paid any mind to when other artists have come and gone through the studio. People painted right next to you, people posed on the podium in front of you, and you didn’t care about any of it. All that matters to you is that you have been left all alone. 
Your best friend has died, and you can’t even do the one thing you have been able to do your entire life ー paint. You had pursued your passion fiercely, not budging even as your parents pleaded with you to be reasonable and try “having a career worth having”, and let painting stay as a hobby. It was how you had met Anna. She was a dancer, and she had gotten into the same art college as you. Back then you had both been carefree young adults, simply trying your best to survive on your own for the first time in your lives. Now, she has left you, with the bittersweet taste of the last conversations you had had with her on your tongue. 
“He inspires me you know, I’m just a dancer anymore when he looks at me, I become the air itself.” 
You had smiled and nodded at her nonsense, she seemed to be dreaming of it. Her limbs were too weak to be of use, but she had the same smile on her lips as when she performed. You had tried your best not to be mad at her for only speaking of this man even as she lay dying in a hospital, dreaming of her passion was at least better than dreaming of him. The tears had stung your eyes as you held her hand before leaving her to her rambling. 
It has been a while since her funeral, and you have practically been living at the studio. Home doesn’t make you feel any better, so you sleep on the small pullout couch in the corner instead. It isn’t meant to be slept on and your back is sore from the many nights in a row you have spent on it. But the art studio is at least comforting you more than home. You have too many memories of Anna in your apartment. Here you can focus on your art. At least, that’s the idea. You have had no inspiration since her death. It’s strange, she hadn’t exactly been the reason you painted, but everything that happened still affected even that part of you. 
You had begun questioning if you should give it all up, move home to your parents for a few months, and go back to your waitress job until you had processed all of this. But could you give up on your passion? After years of struggling to pass courses and hustling on the side of your studies just to make it all work? What would Anna say if she knew…?
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You aren’t sure how it happened, it might've been a dream. It’s barely been three weeks since Anna’s funeral and you woke up with the clearest picture of a man you had never met in your mind. 
He’s handsome, just like she had told you. He has gentle features, and dark, captivating eyes that catch hold of your mind and refuse to let go. You can’t seem to escape the image of the stranger you know in your bones is the same man Anna had known. 
Sometime after the day you had first seen him in your mind, after hours in front of your easel and a blank canvas, you finally force yourself to pick up the brush. This couldn’t be the end of pursuing the only career you had ever wanted. You need to get over it and paint something, other than that stubborn tree and the punishing sea. His features burn your eyelids, and you see him as you blink and dream of him as you sleep. You can’t escape the visions, so you make him real, tangible. You create a portrait of the man in your head. Watching the finished portrait once you put down the brush. 
You look at it until it gets dark again, staring into his eyes until you fall asleep on the couch in the corner. 
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You wake up with a headache. You groan quietly since you neither have the energy nor the will to get up and take something for the throbbing pain stemming from the sides of your head. Before you could even summon the will to get up despite this, you almost jumped off the couch in surprise. There is another person in the room. You’re still in the corner of the room, so the stranger might’ve missed that you were even there, you reason. It looks like a man from behind. His short dark hair lay in a rather messy way against the back of his head. He’s turned away from you, watching the painting you had fallen asleep staring at. He’s tall, his shoulders are broad. You panic, because what did this man want, and why was he here in the middle of the night?
“Who are you?” you ask breathlessly, jumping up from the couch, trying to see if he’s someone you know in the dim light. Could he be another artist here to paint at an odd hour? You don’t recognize him, but you aren’t the best at remembering people, so you’re not sure if you should be screaming or apologizing for your hostile greeting. 
The man didn’t even flinch at the sound of your voice. He didn’t seem like a threat, but then again, something about him creeped you out. You ignore the fact that he also intrigued you, and try to catch his attention again. “Hey, I asked you a question.” In response, he simply raises a hand as if to shush you. 
This man hadn’t just broken into the studio late at night – he was also incredibly rude. The air around him is so still, so calm that it’s giving you chills. You want to see his face. If he was going to murder you, you want to have looked the fucker in the eye so you can, at least, curse his existence. You take a step forward, grabbing a long paintbrush from the drying rack. Maybe you can get his eye if you’re fast enough.
“So aggressive, little dove,” the man finally says. His voice is smooth and deep. It’s an attractive voice, at least your murderer has a nice voice, not that that makes this situation salvageable. You’re still prepared to stab him with the wooden brush in your hand. 
“Wouldn’t you be aggressive if you woke up to a stranger in your bedroom as well?” 
You had tried putting on a brave face, hoping that he wouldn’t notice how scared you were. He seemed to see through this facade easily though, chuckling at your attempt instead of turning around to face you. “Not your bedroom. I’ve been to your bedroom and this isn’t it. Also, not really a stranger, am I?” 
Your breath won’t calm down, and your heart is beating mercilessly in your chest. This man had been in your apartment? And you know him? What the hell is he talking about? “Are you some kind of stalker you fucking creep?” you wheeze out, taking a step away from him. 
You desperately wish for this to be some kind of nightmare. 
When he turns around you’re sure it is because there’s no way the man you see in front of you isn’t just a fiction of your imagination. Dark hair, streaks of red when the light from the window hits it. Perfect lips, and captivating eyes. It’s him. The man in your painting, alive right in front of you. Your grip on the brush tightens, the bristles folding backward from the pressure of your palm. The world began to spin, he wasn’t real, he couldn’t be real. You see the edges of your vision blur and his smile widens at the visible panic you were displaying. 
He was right, he isn’t a stranger. 
“I think you might’ve heard about me, little dove. She used to talk about you ー the talented artist she had met in college.”
It couldn’t be, you hear the blood rushing in your ears like thunder. “Who?” 
He smiled innocently, “Don’t you remember your friend? Anna, I think her name was.” 
No. It couldn’t be true. The brush fell from your hand as you fell to the ground. Your already sleep-deprived mind couldn’t handle the thought that maybe the man Anna had spoken about was real, and right in front of you. Knocking yourself unconscious was the only thing your body could do to stop your heart from giving out. 
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Have you gone mad as well? Maybe this was your way of grieving? Should you go to the hospital?
The questions spun in your mind. He was gone when you woke up. But the long brush in your hand and the bruises on your knees and shoulder felt like substantial proof that you had not lost your mind. He had been here, you know it, but who would believe you if you told them? Who would even care?
You decide to let it go, instead, you force yourself to go back to your apartment. A change of clothes was needed and you know that the lady down the hallway will be worried after not having seen you for days yet again. She had been at Anna’s funeral, wondering how and why your roommate had passed so quickly at such a young age. You hadn’t known what to answer. You still didn’t have your own answers as to “how” or “why”. At least, none that you could share…
You had managed to shower and get into some clothes when your neighbor knocked on the door. 
“Hi, Auntie,” you greet her as she had insisted you do ever since you and Anna had first moved in. She’s older than any of your real aunts, but remarking on that had felt incredibly inappropriate, so you had both simply accepted your fate and begun calling her “Auntie”. 
"Darling!" How are you? I haven't seen you here in days! I was beginning to worry. You know, this was just how it was with Anna, I didn’t see her for days and then she would show up saying she had been busy practicing and dating and whatnot!”
You don’t respond, forcing a smile. She meant well, but when she insisted on bringing you some food you wanted to refuse her. She didn’t mind your protests, “Oh, dear child, you don’t even know how sunken your face looks. You need some of my home-cooked food to get your spirits back up!” 
In the end, your refrigerator was filled with casseroles and little boxes of different dishes, and a bitter feeling, knowing you wouldn’t be here to eat it. You left your apartment as swiftly as you had arrived, not wanting to stick around long enough to see the traces of a life lived – a life you didn’t feel belonged to you anymore. You brought what you could carry in your bag back to the studio. 
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You fall asleep again, after hours of trying to create something, only creating more pain in your back from sitting on the wooden stool all afternoon instead. It’s not like you hadn’t tried your best to think about anything else besides him, you had actually tried your very best! But in the end, your mind kept wandering back to the dip of his lips, and the grin on his face as you fainted. You painted the outline of his lips, over and over again. 
You hated him. 
Would he come back?
He had mocked you with his words.
Why had you felt such a rush when he spoke?
You never wanted to see his perfect face ever again.
Why couldn’t you stop wishing to see him just one more time? 
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You woke from a cool hand on your hair. Slowly and gently he patted your head until you opened your eyes. It was still dark out, and he was back. Leaning over your sleeping body, a large hand caressing the side of your head. You scream, and he smirks. He shushes you, and you push him away angrily. 
“What the fuck are you doing?!” you shout. 
“You wanted to see me again, I thought it best to wake you so your wishes could be fulfilled.” His voice coursed through you, giving you goosebumps again. “Don’t be angry with me, little dove.”
“I don’t want you here.”
“Don’t lie. It’s not polite,” he retorts as soon as the words leave your mouth. 
“I don’t care, I hate you. Leave me alone!” You bark out the words, tears stinging your eyes. You don’t know why you’re reacting so strongly to him. 
His tongue darts out to lick at his lips in annoyance. “Little dove,” he chirps menacingly, “Lie one more time and I won’t help you anymore.”
He terrifies you. He’s beautiful, but nothing about him feels true. He’s like those beautiful flowers forever trapped inside glass orbs. You wanted to protect the frozen beauty from getting the slightest scratch and smash it to pieces, all at once. 
“Help me…?”
The gentle smile on his lips came back when you revealed that he had managed to pique your interest. “Mm, I help people. Artists, especially… it’s an interest of mine, the arts.” He winked at you, which caught you off guard. 
“And you came here to help me?” 
He nodded, but you weren’t convinced. 
“Why? I didn’t ask for any help from you.”
He looked around the room, gaze wandering over the canvasses you had painted in the last couple of weeks, all depicting the shore and the dead tree. All except two. The portrait of him, and the sketches of his lips. 
“You did that?” You ask incredulously. His gaze snaps back to you sharply. 
“Of course. Didn’t it feel different? It felt like you had been inspired by something again, did it not?” His voice is honey in your ears, but the sticky feeling is making you want to flee for your life. You don’t. 
“Want me to prove it?”
You frown, “What do you mean prove it? Are you going to inspire me to paint something on the spot in the middle of the night?”
“Tell me you want it and I’ll make sure you feel inspired for the rest of your miserable human life, little dove.” 
His wording is so unnatural, you think for just a moment. You don’t trust him one bit, but perhaps this is the way to convince yourself that he is indeed just some creep that you need to get away from. You take a deep breath before answering, “I’ll agree if you tell me your name.”
The man stepped back, you had made him flinch. You don’t know why you made that exact demand. Maybe you had just really wanted to call him something other than “the one Anna spoke of” in your mind. It hurt each time you remembered her name.
“A name can be more powerful than you think, little dove,” his tone warned you of something. He seems on edge for the first time since you met him. 
You don’t budge, his reaction only makes you more sure that you need to follow your gut. “Tell me, and you can help me.”
He hesitated before seemingly giving in to some innate need that you didn’t understand yet. “Yunho. That’s one of my names… Use it with care, little dove.”
You turned his name around in your mind, tasting the sweet taste on your tongue as you said it out loud. “Yunho… Sure, help me find inspiration to paint again.”
The same excited and menacing grin he had worn the last time you spoke now grace his lips again, and you feel you have committed a horrible mistake. 
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You look around the room, the sun is rising and casting long shadows from the easels placed around the podium. How has the entire night already passed you by? You have no memory of sleeping. You look at your hands, they are covered in paint. Why had you been so messy? You couldn’t remember right away. You know that you have painted. Yunho had kissed your hand, you can still remember the heat of his breath on your skin. Then you had picked up your brush. You hadn’t been frightened by the fact that you weren’t in control of your actions. After the weeks of forcing yourself to do the most basic human functions to stay alive, having something else move your hand in your stead was somehow freeing. 
When you look at the canvas your breath stops. It’s him, you have painted him again. He’s not completely like himself, however, he is just as captivating in the picture as he is in reality. You had managed to capture his beautiful features, from the way his cupid’s bow dips graciously on his lips, to the way his hair gleams blood red when light shines through it. But behind him is something new, something you have never seen belonging to a human before. Wings, almost translucent wings, appearing on the canvas as a shimmer of light blue and white, adorned with shimmering ruby gemstones. He looked magnificent. 
“Pretty,” you hear his voice whisper on your neck before you feel his soft lips press against your skin. You shiver, it feels good but you’re still in shock, watching the man who’s behind you on the canvas in front of you. 
“How is this possible?” you mumble.
“You were inspired,” he responds calmly, brushing your hair away from your face from behind. “Did you enjoy it?”
You have a feeling that the answer to that is yes, but you also know you shouldn’t reveal that. “I don’t remember.”
“I think you did… I know you did.” 
The way he seems to know everything, even the things you don’t, scares you a bit. But you might be addicted to the feeling of his touch, you’re addicted to what he can do to you, addicted to what he makes you feel deep inside. He has given you your passion back, he has helped you paint again, and you had enjoyed it this time. This shouldn’t be possible. Why does this man have so much power over you that he could help you paint as you had used to, for the first time since Anna’s passing? 
There’s no way he’s human, no human looked like he did. In the morning light, he was even more dashing, even more unreal. You want to smash his perfect exterior to pieces and see the flower inside rot as the air hits its delicate petals. 
“Go away. I don’t want this,” you choke out, pushing down the sobs that threaten to escape your throat. He kisses your neck again, but you don’t move. “I think I’ll die if I don’t end this Yunho. Please, just leave me alone.”
“It’s possible, but maybe you’ll be the one who makes it out alive.” His honey voice rang in your ears as the day began and his touch against your back disappeared. You cried yourself to sleep. You knew everything was wrong, Yunho was wrong. But there was nothing you could do about it anymore. 
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Two days passed without so much as a glimpse of Yunho. The hours of the night when he didn’t come to see you had almost been enough to convince you that you had truly gone mad. But then, suddenly, there he was, as dashing as ever. Pretty eyes watching you stare at an empty easel. 
A chilling chuckle escaped him, nothing more. He stands and gazes upon your hopeless state for a while in silence. You will never get rid of him, you realize. You’re not upset about it. You can’t be upset. Nothing feels real anymore. 
Yunho circles you, a predator watching his prey. You don’t flinch under his gaze this time. When he leans his lean body against the stool next to yours you feel disgusted. You weren’t upset that he would never leave you alone, but you deserved to know why, at least. 
“What do you want from me?”
“Want?” He sounds almost offended. 
“You’re not here just because it’s fun to sit around and watch me paint all day.”
He didn’t give you an answer, he just smiled at you with that perfectly enchanting smile of his. He’s dangerous, his beauty is dangerous. He leans forward on the stool, his face now scarily close to yours. Will he kiss you…? You can feel Yunho’s breath, hot against your lips, his gaze burning as he stares into your eyes and flickers down to your mouth. Do you want him to kiss you…? 
What do you want from him?
You almost forget that he hasn’t given you an answer when he bends forward, his lips inches away from yours. This time you do flinch. Can he read your mind too? No, your eyes stare right back into his, a flash of maroon tints his irises an unnatural color before it disappears just as fast as it showed up. 
His thumb drags across the side of your cheek, a small smirk plays on Yunho’s deceptive lips. “I’ll make you a promise,” he whispers, “I promise to make sure you’re motivated to do what you love the most, for the rest of your life.”
His breath burns hot against your wet lips. You want to kiss him. “A promise…?” you exhale, mind not quite able to focus on his words, but they sound good to you right now. You swallow, eyes flickering to his perfectly shaped cupid bow, his rosy lips, and the tongue that teases behind his plump lips. “What… what would I have to do…?” 
“A clever dove, I knew you would ask the right questions.”
You didn’t truly understand though, too distracted by Yunho’s eyes mirroring your flickering gaze, teasingly watching the way your hands fiddled with the brush in your hand. 
“All you have to do in return is say that you agree, and I will fulfill all of your wishes.” His soothing hand moves around to the nape of your neck, his grip gentle but secure. 
Will he fulfill them all? 
Does it even matter? Almost anything would be good enough to accept right now, at least you can’t think of something that would be worse than walking through life as the zombie you had been since… Since Anna’s death. If you accept his proposal, will you find out what happened to her? 
“I agree.” 
Your stomach flips when plush lips are pressed against yours. It seems he had already begun living up to his word. At least he wasn’t playing a trick on you when it came to that part. His hands travel over your body, he knows exactly how to touch you the way you like it. Has he been watching you for a long time? Or is it something magical, like those shimmery wings you had imagined he had? You’re not sure, but knowing could wait until later. Right now you have a couple of needs. Needs that Yunho had promised to fulfill. His leg firmly presses open your legs, strong muscle relieving some of the intense pressure that had built up in your lower abdomen since the thought of having him in this way had sprouted in your mind. You need more. You close your eyes even tighter as you let the brush fall from your grip. Hands moving across Yunho’s perfect form without hesitation. 
The sound of the brush hitting the floor didn’t reach your ears. You were already lost to the world of humans. 
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“Do you believe in fairies? I do. I think there are things we don’t know in this world. Magical things. If I could go there I would, I think it’s a beautiful place, nothing like Earth. I’d want to dance for them…”
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