Tumgik
#bts werewolf fic
hollyhomburg · 3 months
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Before I Leave You (Pt.66)
(Omegaverse au, Mafia au, Bts x Reader)
Summary: Wolves always go for the throat, whether they’re cornered or hunting.
Tags: Blood, Guns, violence, near death experiences, everyone lives nobody dies...but someone does die this chapter, horror, non-lethal injury, talks of death and dying, a bit of body horror, Trans! tae, Tae is briefly dead named in this, implied/referenced intimate partner violence, flashbacks, brief suicidality.
W/c: 8.3k
A/N: ahhhhhh <3 we're finally ready for this part of the story <3 i wonder what your guys reactions will be, i'm really glad i decided to split this chapter into two peices! it's much cleaner this way. don't be 🥲 too mad at me.
Previous part - Masterlist - First part
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(Four years prior, Hoseok)
Today is the day that Hoseok will meet his future pack, he just doesn’t know it yet.
It always feels like a bit of betrayal but the worst and best days of your life often come close together. Maybe just for contrast. A bit of good in the bad. A slice of cake in a feast of raw meat.
This starts as just another bad day in a long stretch of shitty days. The kind of days were anxiety bubbles up and how afraid you are is all you can think about. Taking one breath and then another like just staying alive means you're guaranteed to get better.
The only place to go from rock bottom is up, and hoseok's sneakers are firmly on the concrete, standing outside of the record store in the rain with no place to go.
Hoseok has been afraid for a long time. He can't really remember even if he thinks hard, the last morning he woke up not afraid.
What hoseok really needs is a day off, but he really can't fucking afford it. He can't afford anything- certainly not a one-bedroom apartment on his own. If he's really really lucky maybe he'll be able to find a closet room somewhere that will cost almost his whole paycheck. Because after today-
After today, Jung Hoseok will be homeless, packless, and alone. His pack dropped the news on him last night…or well ex-pack.
He doesn’t expect that he’ll be moving into the pack's house on this rainy day, he doesn't expect that by the end of the week, he won't be worrying about where his next meal will come from because Jin will be there with it ready. Jimin sometimes too.
He won't be worrying about where he'll sleep because the bed in their spare room that smells like tae tae tae will be his. He'll roll around in it when the door is closed, shy about it because Hoseok has never liked other alpha's scents so much before. And when he comes home and Jungkook has made a nest in it, it will feel like a bit of an impossible silver lining, a bit too much- to have an omega making him a nest, making something special just for him
It takes three weeks for Namjoon to make him a house key for himself. After he gets left outside in a very similar storm to this. The doctor will touch his cheek, thumbing at the dimples that they share. how special is it that each smile gets cradled like a crescent moon? the heavens have left imprints on both of their skin. Freckles for stars and dimples for moon's.
"I don't want you to get sick pup."
"People don't get sick from wet heads anymore hyung."
"They don't. But I want to keep you dry and comfortable in my den. i know you still want to look for apartments but...what if you didn't?"
But neither the weather nor Hoseok knows to prepare for good news. Right now the heavens open up and release its deluge, thick rain the way that only happens at the start of summer. Worms and other wriggly things crawl their way out of their holes to find a good spot to die next to Hoseok's shoes. Worn fancy sneakers that his pack-omega had gotten him a few months ago for their anniversary. They're the nicest thing he's ever owned.
His ex-pack omega.
It's hard to rewire your brain, especially for alpha's. Hoseok is a lone wolf. He hasn't been without a pack in so long, it feels weird to not have someone to call, someone he needs to trail after and cling to. He checks his phone but he doesn't have a single notification from them.
He doesn't have a single notification from anyone.
Hoseok is glad he doesn't feel his instincts as keenly as other alphas do. Otherwise, he might be inclined to gnash his teeth at the people who pass by him on their way to work, umbrellas almost bumping him, perceiving even closeness as a threat. So vulnerable without a pack (lone alphas are always the first to starve in winter).
Hoseok shivers even though its summer, he's soaked to the bone after a few minutes.
He has a key to the record store. He could go inside. Granted- he should be inside already. Opening up shop, making coffee, and letting the place warm up. But standing out in the rain feels too much like penance.
Hoseok likes the rain. The smell of it. The way it makes the whole world ache and go still. He feels every drop on his dark hair, soaking through his thin hoodie. It's cleansing almost, letting the rain soak him through.
(The end of relationships is always hard, let alone the end of abusive relationships, they’re downright terrible).
Hoseok keeps replaying their words in his head, with every slosh of a nearby car, every honk of a taxi. The stoplight red and green bleeding onto the wet concrete. Yellow flashing in contrast with hoseok's dark memories.
“You’re welcome to stay here until the lease runs out, but the four of us need to move back home. You understand Hobi don’t you? We’re just omega’s- we’re just girls- and we think this could be a clean break for all of us. We just don't want to lead you on any longer.”
The worst part is that Hobi had sort of known, had sort of already realized what was happening. he’d seen it in their looks; distant and despondent. Their touches that did not linger longer than necessary, cheeks turned as he comes in for a kiss. The phone calls hushed in the other room that cut off abruptly when he entered.
The lease on their apartment ends today. The place has already been professionally deep cleaned and Hoseok's things are packed in his car in plastic bins. He has 6 of them to his name.
He doesn’t have a place to go yet, he might just sneak into the back room at the record store and sleep there until he figures something out. Hoseok drove to work early because he didn't have another place to go.
This version of Hoseok is not the one you know, this version of Hobi is 23 and hopeless, can’t think about moving back in with his parents a city away, with nothing but a rusted-out Corolla that barely gets him to work let alone through the 200-mile trip. It will die on him in about 6 months and Namjoon will be thankful that Hoseok no longer is driving around in a deathtrap.
He hadn’t even gotten this job by himself, his pack omega- his ex-girlfriend had gotten him this job almost 4 months ago after his last one didn’t pan out. Temporary work for temporary people.
Nothing feels like his. Not his body and certainly not this job.
Hoseok hasn’t smoked in months, but something that feels an awful lot like self-disgust worms under his skin and he can’t resist. Not today of all days. Smoking is something that he doesn’t indulge in often, and hasn’t indulged in since… becoming an alpha to someone. But he guesses it doesn’t matter now without anyone to complain that they don’t like the smell.
The cigarette mixes with the smell of petrichor and Hoseok’s own acidic scent. The smell of a terrified alpha draws him more than a few looks but he pays them no mind. He's thankful for his soaking face, at least the rain keeps out the tears. Cool and soothing against his face.
Hoseok just wants- Hoseok just wants to call them. To talk to someone.
Ending relationships is always like this. You want to keep being good, keep being what they want, but that’s impossible. You can’t act or behave right and dupe someone into loving you. Sometimes the love just isn’t there. (A smaller shyer voice says it was never love at all, you can't possess love, only be given it and Hoseok feels like a cast aside possession. Love and abuse cannot coexist).
Hoseok should have known. He keeps replaying the moments in his head. He’d seen them exchanging knowing looks when they thought he wasn’t looking.He thought he was just being paranoid, until yesterday morning when they’d taken him aside.
“You knew this had to end one day Hoseok" "You knew one day we'd move on." "As much as we appreciate what you’ve done for us, we think it’s time for us to move on.”
“What do you mean? I thought we were leaving next week, you really left me with only a day to find a place to go?”
“We’re sorry Hoseok, your last rut was just too much to deal with. We think it's best if we just stay on our own. It's a clean break this way.”
"Wait, please- I love you."
"We know. We're sorry."
Hoseok is too much for anyone to deal with. He doesn’t call his friends (he hasn’t met up with any of them or returned their texts in months thanks to several pointed words from his pack omega). He doesn’t go inside yet because he deserves the rain. He sits out front of the record store, smoking a cigarette that will probably end up killing him down the line, and thinks Good.
He tells himself the irritation in his eyes is just because of the cigarette smoke blowing in his face, even though he knows it's not. He's not even inhaling right because his breaths come all hitched and pathetic. Anyone would be sad if their relationship of several years had ended. Anyone would be devastated.
Hoseok checks his phone again. Nothing.
Most people on the crowded street ignore him. Though the thick throng of people going about their business, probably going to work at their 9 to 5 jobs that pay enough to afford apartments and packmates. Hoseok is the one soul that stands stationary.
Until one, someone a few feet back stops, tipping their face through their hood to look at him. The only other person without an umbrella.
Hoseok knows his face and his name. It’s just Min Yoongi- his coworker and sort of friend who's coming in for his shift. Hoseok doesn't love Yoongi yet but they're sort of friends already. They might be better friends if Hoseok could get over his admiration and jealousy.
Yoongi has this way of quietly taking care of the people around him. He picks up Hoseok's jacket when it slides off the hook at work, asks him if he wants coffee and even pays for it when he goes to the coffee shop next door. He compliments Hoseok's music tastes when it's his turn to play something, he gives Hoseok the aux frequently in a way that feels a little bit like flirting.
The only two good things about Hoseok's job are the music and Min Yoongi.
He even laughs at Hoseok's shitty jokes when they're stacking new inventory saying cryptic things like "they can't be worse than my omega's jokes."
That's why Hoseok's jealous. Yoongi gets packmates, five of them who make him lunch even when he's only got a four-hour shift. that often linger outside to walk him home or pick him up in their shiney not new not old cars.
(Yoongi's packmates certainly have better things to do than send Yoongi to work with a second packed lunch. "Jin-hyung caught a glimpse of you through the doorway, the only thing that he hates more than Namjoon's snoring is skinny Alpha's.")
Min Yoongi has that look that people do when they're well-loved by packmates. Hair ruffled and neck dotted with bruises that might as well be mating bites for a beta. Beta's don't mate, but these ones certainly keep him close. He wears their scents like a shield. Sometimes so thick that Hoseok can't even smell any of his chocolate scent.
Right now, staring at Yoongi a few paces into the street, all Hoseok can smell is the rain.
When Hoseok had been introduced to him it had felt strange just by virtue of Yoongi's sub gender. A beta? Working somewhere so normal? Weren’t beta's supposed to be like- financial advisors or assistants to the president or something? Betas are supposed to have more important jobs than pushing vinyl and bumping Hoseok's shoulder playfully.
(Hoseok hasn’t seen it yet, the way that the owner hands over little white baggies to people who come in looking hungry for a high that cigarettes or alcohol can’t fix. Hoseok hasn’t yet realized that the record store isn't just a record store. This is just one front business of many that the family has organized across this city and the country for distribution of some of his most precious inventory). Yoongi has worked her for the last year, takes calls in the back for the family. The owner only bows to him when Hoseok's not around.
They only hired hoseok for tax purposes. Having three employees looks less suspicious than just two.
The beta looks concerned, and Hoseok knows he can’t hide the fact that he’s been crying as the beta steps up and pushes Hoseok back under the awning. Out of the rain and into the warmth of the doorway. This kind of movement would make any alpha snap, but not Hoseok. Hoseok just tucks his chin down and starts to cry.
“Oh Hoseok.” Hobi sniffles, and wipes his runny nose on his sleeve. Yoongi's hand curls against his throat, chocolate scent spiking to soothe. “You’re soaking wet."
Yoongi grabs his wrist and Hoseok almost keens at the gentle touch. Whole body shaking, shoulders curling in Yoongi's direction. Yoongi’s lips press into a thin line and then tugs him inside.
~-~
(Now, You)
You hold your breath. Still peering around the corner, watching and waiting for the man to spot you.
But he doesn't, after a breath where his soft footsteps echo, you wait, but nothing happens. You peak back around the corner.
You absorb and catalog the details as fast as you can; the black ski mask, covered by one of those traditional Korean masks, wooden with red lacquer. This one is a little different than the one that Jimin had; not twisted with thick eyebrows in a snarl. This one is white with red splotches on the cheeks, like a ghost sent down from above to rob you of your humanity.
The bulletproof vest stops at the collarbones. The gun itself is a black generic model. The long end is extra bulbous with something that might be an attached silencer. His hands covered in black nitrile gloves, leathery at first glance. There is a knife at his waist along with a barrage of other small things; rope and a knife, duct tape and handcuffs. His heavy boots look steel toed and reinforced.
The man (because it is a man you realize; tall, maybe taller than Namjoon) trains his gun at the landing on the top of the stairs. Pointing it in the direction of Hobi, Tae, and Jin’s hushed voices.
Hobi giggles and it sounds so bright. Echoing off the walls and filling the house with his musical laughter.
There is a phone cord tangled in your hands, long and white. You grip it tight.
This man might be silent but you’re quieter as you slide your bare feet across the smooth floors. Your strides are so quiet. You take one step and then another until you're behind the man, mirroring him.
You remember when Yoongi redid the floors, it was one of the few things that he did right away; before the pack came to live here (to love here). It took him weeks and weeks of sanding before he got them to his liking. Days more of brown dark stain that colored his hands ruddy until the soft matte finish stuck. Every pass with the belt sander and dirty rag a movement of love, a meditation for it.
Yoongi made every inch of this house with the same loving intent; to make it a home for all of you. a place to be safe and nurse your wounds and hearts. You won’t let it become a grave. You won’t let this person stay here and ruin it.
Most people get it wrong; In order to kill it is not a matter of elegance or effort. There is no such thing as a perfect kill either. Emotionless and analytic isn't enough and being justified only gets you halfway. There is no way to do it cleanly. People die just as they live, messy and hopeful and dirty.
Murder isn't a matter or wanting or wishing, It’s a matter of rage.
It’s always been this way. Rage has been chewing a hole through you from the moment that you pulled the trigger with Geumjae. From the moment you said ‘I do’. Rage that these violent things have been done to you, that they continue to happen, that you can’t just get away from all the hurt and trauma.
Rage has eaten you clean through to the bone. Rage has made you skinny and starving, rage has made you timid and fragile. But now you're the hungry one. Right now, only three words run through your head;
How dare she.
How dare she send this man into your house. How dare she point a gun at the upstairs, in the general direction of your nest and your packmates. The altar at which you so desperately cling to, for sweet dreams and sweeter worship (There is no deity above the god of love, not even death. Death cannot take the love from your chest, someone dying does not make you stop loving them).
How dare she even think about hurting the people you love.
There is no courage, no bravery, no thought in your head about how stupid it might be as you step closer behind the man. You are not a trained assassin. You’re just an omega.
The adrenaline rush is an old friend, a thrall both intoxicating and unnerving. Your heart beats loud in your ears. You grip the phone cord in your hands and take a quiet steadying breath. He doesn't see you, he doesn't hear you, he doesn't know that you're behind him.
Wolves always go for the throat, whether they’re cornered or hunting.
The assassin’s foot ascends the bottom step. You don’t let him get to the second before you’re moving, hurtling forward. Footsteps no longer light. Your hands go over the man’s shoulders. The cord no more than a white flash across his vision before you draw it tight across his neck.
The pain and panic are instant as you’re suddenly tethered to a six-foot-four assassin and struggling to stay on your feet as he stumbles back. You’re pulled off your feet and down the stairs, but you keep it as tight as you can and you don’t let go. Fighting to keep your makeshift garrote tight as he scrambles to get his fingers around where it digs into his skin. Spluttering loud.
The hard wire digs, cutting easily through plastic and then your skin as he tries to pull you off. You don’t let go until he backs you into the entryway wall and slams you against it with a dizzying clang of bone and body hitting something solid. Your head narrowly avoids one of the hooks that the pack hangs their coats on. An inch to the left and he'd have impaled your skull on it. An inch to the left and you'd be dead.
A single inch.
His head slams into your face, and you feel something in your nose pop, flooding your mouth with blood so thick you choke.
He slams you against the wall once, twice, and then a third time until your grip goes slack and slippery with blood. It knocks the breath out of you, and he finally throws you off. You both fall to the ground like stones. Both of you gasp and struggle for breath. At least one of your ribs it broken, but because of the adrenaline you can't even feel it.
When the man lifts his black gloves to his throat, they come away glossy with blood.
(It’s crazy how you never notice the change from the day to day, one day you are begging for a reason to hold on, a reason to live, and the next you’re fighting tooth and nail to keep going. Just about gnawing your own arm off to get out. To survive and live to see another day. Another sunrise.)
By that time the air has returned to your lungs it’s enough for you to scream. “Jin! Jin! There’s someone in the house there’s-”
You try and inhale through your nose and blood makes you choke. You push at the floor with your hands, struggling to stand, fingers slippery and tacky with your blood.
The man tries to scramble up the stairs but you latch onto his legs and make him drop. Doing everything in your power to keep him from going up to them, to your packmates. Hugging his ankle to your chest to slow him down (the same way you’ve hugged Namjoon’s arm and Yoongi’s, the way you held Hobi in the nest on the couch just a few shattered days ago).
The man turns the gun on you, pointing it to your head, you flinch, waiting for the shot-
and open them as He heaves a frustrated roar before he wheels away and turns, aiming at the top of the stairs instead of right in your face.
You could have died right then. could have and should have, but you didn’t. Your brain is too messy with adrenaline right now to make sense of it.
Why didn't he shoot?
The gun goes off, a bullet whizzing by Jin’s head. His face, scared, on the stairs flashes ever briefly. Ducking for cover just in time. The doorframe explodes in a cacophony of dark wood splitters. The doorknob sparks and bursts into a million pieces with another shot. metal clanking against the ceiling, the walls, down the stairs.
One second, you’re holding onto his heavy leather boot, and the next it’s colliding with your face and you’re out like a light.
Getting hit in your face is always such a disorientating experience. You’d never gotten used to it, even with Geumjae. Granted it’s hard to get used to the stomach-churning low vision feeling of weightlessness, like vertigo only worse.
"Hobi! don't- jesus fucking christ-"
You’re not quite sure what happens next only that you can’t see for a moment after the boot hits your face, and you take big breaths through your mouth. Blood, you taste blood. And then your vision comes back. Black spots and all and there’s Hobi’s face in front of you. No assassin, just him, helping you up from the floor. You're not on the steps anymore but at the bottom of them.
“The kitchen, the kitchen," Blood rushes over your bottom lip. Hoseok wipes it away, inhaling a jagged breath. "He’s-”
He pushes at your shoulders. “The car- get to the car.” It feels impossible. This can be happening in your house. Are you about to have a shoot-out in the street? On your quiet cul-de-sac? But then, in the corner of your vision dark movement.
You tug Hobi’s head down the second that the gun goes off- probably saving his life, definitely saving it as the bullet tears through the banister and ends in a hollow thump in the wall. he may not have shot you but he has no quams shooting at Jin and Hobi. The bullets hit the wall- Maybe 6 inches above your bent heads. Too close, close enough that Hobi trembles in your hold. And he rips something- a piece of the doorway, out of his arm with a wince before he covers your body with his own.
The volley of gunshots are so loud, so vicious as they blow things apart, tearing holes through Yoongi’s coat, the doorway, the banister, and the narrow stairway rungs. Pieces of wood hit your curled forms. Hobi shoves your head down when you try to look.
There is wetness, hot, something hot on your hands, your neck, you know it’s blood before you look. You think it’s from you until the Gunsmoke clears and you realize- fingers skimming across hoseok's forehead, a gash above his eyebrow.
A bullet graze by his hairline thats bleeding profusely. head wounds always bleed a ridiculous amount.
There are more bullets behind you but it’s just Jin returning fire.
Jin’s got Tae behind him. Her face ashy and pink from the shower and panic, her mid-length dark hair such a tangle, cowering behind his back. Jin's gun is so much louder without the silencer. Did he bring one upstairs? Or did he get it from Jimin’s stash?
Jin nearly drags Tae to the three of you, and she clings to you. Your hand finds her face. Fingers are red and bloody smudging against her cheek, blink and you're back there a million moments in the past; dotting red blush across her cheeks with a brush- your fingers- kissing it into place with your lips- painting a line of maroon across her eyelids to bring out the lighter flecks in her eyes- Watching her twirl in a red dress. Pressing your red lips against hers in a quiet dark moment in the library room. With her in Hobi's red car- Everything red.
If it starts with red, maybe it's fitting that it ends in red too.
Jin doesn’t give you time to reminisce. Pushing her shoulder down hard. His bare chest splattered with splinters from the door. Covered in wood fragments that stick to his black sweatpants and damp feet. Shouting, “All of you get down!”
You follow your pack omega’s words. Hobi and Tae With their damn alpha instincts blanket you as Jin fires again. The shots are so much louder in the small space. Another shot, another thunder strike. tae grips your wrist tight, your hands.
When you look down, they look mutilated. you can see bone in one place, deep gashes across the centre of your palms.
Your ears ring and you can't make sense of anything over the noise. Jin returns every bang with a boom of his own, bright flashes lighting up the dark staircase. Casing after casing tinkling down to the floor, rolling across the floorboards
But then, for a second- the gunfire goes quiet.
The house creeks and the three of you hold your breath. Jin's still half-concealed. The air heavy and clouded with gunsmoke and the smell of blood.
Hobi tentatively gets onto his knees and then stands when he doesn't immediately get shot at. You make a small noise in your throat, the loudest that you dare, but he’s looking after Jin, standing in the darkness, hackles raising his angry scent of burning sugar acrid in your nose. His hand slides out of yours, your blood on his palms.
And then you hear the rush of boots, echoing in the living room, near your nest- you’d never unmade it after you and Hobi fucked there. You'd been too busy taking care of Jimin. Hoseok bears his teeth.
Hobi turns, sliding out of your hands quicker than you can grab him. Quicker than you can tell him that he’s being dumb, that he’s being suicidal.
“Not my girlfriend! You asshole!”
The world is a dizzying cacophony of gunpowder, pain, bullets, and shouting. Jin yells Hoseok’s name. But the alpha heads after the assassin regardless of your cries. Jin narrowly keeps him from running headlong into no mans land. the open area by the door that would leave Hoseok a sitting duck.
Tae’s standing up on unsteady legs as you all spill out of the stairs into the narrow hall. Out from her hiding place cowering behind the banister. Your attention isn’t on her it’s on Hobi. Neither you nor Jin are looking at her. You’re running after him on shaky legs. Jin holds you both back, trying to corrall you. The air is cloudy with Gunsmoke, hazy and heavy. Her eyes are wide and pretty like dark marbles as she watches Hobi.
They’re just as pretty when the gun presses to the back of her head.
Everyone turns and goes still. The man has Tae in his arms, hand in her hair making her neck arch. The gun pressed to her jaw. Finger on the trigger.
Her body trembles and she doesn’t turn, frozen still in fear a shallow whine building in her throat.Jin has the gun trained on the man faster than you can make to step in Tae’s direction. But it’s no use.
He must have gone around, run through the livingroom through your pantry. A similar path that you took to surprise him. He must know the floor plan of the house, must have studied it to prevent situations like this. You have no upper hand here with tae in his arms.
Tae’s mouth is buttony and parted, but it settles into a resigned line.
Jin’s never been a good enough shot- not for one like this, even barely 10 feet away. He might hit Tae. Shaky, Jin takes his finger off the trigger and stoops down to put the gun on the floor. His other hand is up, already surrendering when the man jerks Tae's head back by her hair. Rougher than he needs to be.
“Don’t shoot her, please don’t shoot- please.”
The man juts his chin at the gun on the floor. “Kick it away now, be a good omega.” Jin grits his teeth but does as he says.
The man’s voice is rough as gravel. Dignified, but with no obvious accent. Not the quiet cadence that you’ve come to expect from the family. Neither posh nor lowbrow. Something in between. Flat and monotone. You're sure that you've never heard his voice before.
“I have to admit, your file said you’d be resistant, but it said nothing about you being dumb as fuck and a poor shot to boot.”
Jin licks his lips and bares his teeth, “Put that gun back in my hand and then say it again.” The masked man cocks his head to the side and then shrugs as if Jin's fury doesn't mean anything to him.
But He’s bleeding, it trails down to the floor so the words can't be genuine. It's a small wound, a graze on his right thigh. Red bright and hot that drips in onto the floor from his pant leg.
His hand tightens in Tae’s hair. “Line up against the wall. Now. Or I’ll blow her brains out in front of you."
You move first, eyes trained on Tae. But he snaps, eyes unreadable behind that mask, “No- not you. I’m not here to kill you.”
He tosses something to Jin and he catches it. Handcuffs that jingle and clink. Your foot hits an errant bullet with a similar tinkle. “Handcuff Jin to the stairs Hoseok.”
Your names, he knows your names. Your mind races over every detail, every moment trying to piece together a way to get out of this. a way to save them.
“Why are you doing this?” Hobi’s trembling, shaking. “Did Jimin-”
“Jiminie did nothing.” The man croons dragging the barrel of the gun down Tae’s cheek leaving a dark smudge in its wake. It's red on her face, the barrel must still be hot, your blood crusty around her lips.
“Honestly though, you should know he was a shit assassin. Truly piss poor even by industry standards. They always threw him the easiest kills."
The three of you are quiet, if he was hoping to elicit a reaction or more of a fight You don’t give him the satisfaction. Although jin grits his teeth, gnashing anger and an omega's feral instinct to protect their pups.
You step forward hands open, barely two steps from Tae. If you can just get to her maybe you can-
“Please- please don’t kill them."
He cocks his head at you, and you can hear the grin in his voice. “Oh no, you misunderstand me I’m not going to do any of it.”
He taps Tae’s head once again with the gun and Tae starts to truly struggle. You tremble in fury and horror as you realize what he means with a sickening lurch in your stomach.
“This is how it’s going to work Y/n” You still at the sound of your name. “Taehyung here is going to shoot Jin and Hoseok. And then once we’re sure they’re good and dead, I’ll kill her.” He tosses you another pair of handcuffs, these ones are meant for you.
You take one step closer; Jin's gun is between your feet now. But you couldn't pick it up or else he'd shoot Tae. Time, you just need a minute to figure out what to do. How to get them out of this.
Yourself now, that's a different story. If you where in Tae's position you'd turn your face to the side and bite the mans hand.
“And what about me then? If they're all dead what’s to stop me from fighting?” he seems to consider it only briefly, the gun in his hand tilting so that you can see the dark oval where the bullet will come out, where it will rocket through Tae's skull and take all the little worlds she dreams of, all her poems and words and make them nothing.
“You think you're so precious? I’ll just kill you.” he says it like it's nothing. like you're nothing. He nods to the others, appealing to them and not you. “What do you want? All four of you to die? Or just three? What will hurt Namjoon the least? Do you think Yoongi will survive loosing his mate? What do you think Jinnie?”
You think of Yoongi's mating mark, the spot on his hip where your small curved semi-circles sit. You think of them turning black- a brand of a dead mate. You think of Hobi's eyes opening and never closing again. You think of Jungkook nesting without Jin and you. Of Namjoon holding out his hand and having no one to take it without Jin there.
You won't let any of this happen.
The others shoot each other unsure glances but you shake your head. you shake your head because earlier on the step, the man didn't take the easy shot, the easy kill.
If he really had orders to kill you, he would have done it then.
you step forward and shake your head. “I don’t believe you. I know your orders are to take me. That’s what all of this is about isn’t it?” The man doesn’t drop his weapon. Just presses it tighter to Tae’s jaw.
“Handcuff Jin now Hobi. Or else I’ll-”
You see the darkness settle in Jin’s eyes and before you know it he's turning to you, eyes flat. Endless in their darkness, the way they might if-
You don't let yourself consider it. You won't let it get to that point.
“Pup-”
You guess it does make sense, having you kill each other as opposed to the assassin doing the dirty work and implicating Moonbyul. If you really are on that ‘no kill list’ like Yoongi said at the hospital, having you take out each other is the only logical course of action. Once Tae kills Jin and Hobi, she'll be free game. This is the only way retribution won’t fall back on her. This is so similar to what she tried and failed to do with Jimin and Jin. This is a second attempt.
Only-
Only this time, you have a bargaining chip.
You step forward, in front of Hobi and Jin, blocking them from his line of sight. Barely a pace in front of Tae, but from the way he tightens his grip on her you know that you can go no further.
“You can take me; I’ll go with you. Willingly.”
Jin makes a noise in his throat and tries to move, but dares not when the man tightens his grip on Tae’s hair hard enough to rip a bit of it out.
“That’s what she wants, isn’t it? If you just let them live I’ll go with you.”
The man is silent for a second. Hobi trembles and so does Jin. For a second, you truly think that he’s going to take the bait.
But the mask is directed towards the floor, then back up at you. “Those aren’t my orders.” His finger is on the trigger so close to Tae’s head. “Now cuff him, I don’t want Jinnie getting any ideas.”
Hobi’s hands are shaking as he unwillingly shackles Jin to the steps as slowly as he can. He's buying time too. Every second and every heartbeat is precious. Both ends loop around a single rung and click closed. The rung itself is a little loose from a bullet that blew it apart near the bottom, it’s got to be the loosest one. Hobi turns, and you see the pre-meditation in his eyes; he chose that one so that Jin could still get free if he tried hard enough.
Everyone is trying. Everyone is defiant. The quirk of Jin's eyes as he settles, staring with rage at the man, his voice a quiet croon when he says what might very well be the last words he ever speaks.
“Tae you can close your eyes honey, it’s okay.”
"No I can't" She struggles harder against his hold, but it only gets her part of her hair pulled out with how rough the man jerks her, tears clouding her vision. "I can't- don't- please-"
Tae's soul has always been butterfly soft and flower tender. She's not made for this. She's not made for murder or pain or anything that lacks softness. She's never been a killer; Jimin was always that side of their coin. Saint and sinner.
Your body goes cold and for a second, you think you just might pass out, especially when Hoseok grips your wrist. One final squeeze in what can only be goodbye before he steps away and in front of jin. Hair puffed up. Jin is lowering his eyes and no no no.
No.
Tae is staring at you, eyes wide and scared, but you watch in total powerlessness as her eyebrows lower. You see the moment Tae thinks it. Eyes meeting yours, lips mouthing something that you can’t read. Maybe I’m sorry no.
I love you. Sorry.
The truth is that Jimin drilled this with her years ago before she left for college and he couldn’t follow. When Jimin first realized that for the first time in their lives she’d be without him as a constant protector. Delicate delicate Tae with her delicate pink soul. So vulnerable to the world and all its wickedness.
Tae didn't confront him about it until the nightmares were waking him up regularly. They were simple nightmares back then; images of Tae hurt and mugged. Tae beaten and left in an alleyway. Tae stalked through the night. Simple, but enough to keep him awake. Enough to torture him in his wakon hours as well as the nighttime.
If Jimin saw her now he'd pull the heavens down and demand something truly awful in exchange. He'd take one of the knives from the kitchen and gut him from belly button to addams apple. He'd eviscerate him- and Namjoon might help.
Hut there is no one here to do any of that, there is only Tae in the man's hold.
“What are you so scared of?” She’d asked one morning, trailing endless patterns on his chest in an effort to soothe him back to sleep.
“Something happening to you while I’m not there, mostly.”
“Would it make you feel better? If you taught me the basics?”
Jimin's pause is telling, more telling are his eyes, hopeful when he looks up at Tae. “Yes, it would.”
It’s been years and years since Jimin Tae have bothered to drill any self-defense sequences it at all. Since he stopped asking her to refresh the basics with him once a year just to make sure. Jimin never thought that Tae would have to use those skills. Like with most things, you just sort of hope you don't have to fight.
But Tae knows you did fight. It's written all over your bloody face and your bloody hands, tightened to fists by your side. If you fought tooth and nail to save them she should fight too.
Tae has written fight scenes like this before. If she survives the press of the gun to the back of her head, she’s gonna have one hell of a personal experience to pull from for her book. The content will be endless.
She seems to swell in the space, alpha shoulders settling back. Her mouth is moving, mouthing words her eyes on you. Just in case this is the last thing she ever does.
I’m sorry, I love you.
“Be a good boy and pick up the gun Tae.” Tae bends down, syrupy slow. Intentional with her every movement. One heartbeat. Another. Tae's fingers are maybe an inch from the gun when everything goes haywire.
When she's about halfway bent she uses her momentum to hurl her body back, slamming her head into the gun and then into the man’s face. Cracking the mask and from the sound of it, the man’s nose. Tae's almost knocks herself out with the force of her own head colliding with the man’s face.
She turns, she’s not finished, not even close. She might be a woman but she’s an alpha too. Alphas always always fight to protect their pack. She turns and swings.
And drives her elbow as hard as she can between the alpha’s legs.
Hobi can’t stop his flinch. That has to hurt.
The assassin’s gun goes flying, skittering across the dark floor and under the bookcase and Hobi ends up lunging for it. You go after it too but you end up holding Tae instead, crumpling to the floor without anything to hold her up. She’s holding the back of her head, eyes watering.
The traditional mask lyes in pieces around you, shatered by the force of tae's headbut. The man clutches his nose, features still covered by the ski mast. Growling out- "Bitch- fucking bitch! I'll kill you. I'll fucking kill all of you-"
Jin struggles yanking his cuffed hands down as hard as he can- in another minute he might get loose, but not quick enough as Hobi finds the gun and raises it. The bullet hits the molding beside your pantry, missing the man by inches as he dives away to safety. A lucky shot by any standard, let alone for a beginner. Hobi shoots off after him. knocking into the wall before he's up and chasing it.
“Are you okay, Tae, Tae- look up at me.” Tae is clutching the back of her head. Blinking rabidly. That fucking hurt even if it was worth it.
“I’m fine just-” She leans over your legs and vomits, retching loud and horrible. Concussion- she must have given herself a concussion. Namjoon told you months ago how to read the signs of them shortly after the first time Jungkook ever had a seizure in front of you.
You hold her shoulders, watching Jin try and break himself free, yanking his wrists hard enough that it has to hurt. Moving to try and help him.
And then Hobi makes a noise in the other room, a pained ghasp, A thump and then-
Tae is already up and running, stumbling into the wall. You glance at Jin. "Go- just go" Jin grinds out. But Tae has longer legs than you do even concussed.
By the kitchen, Hobi slips on a fallen tangerine. (You remember then, Yoongi clearing the table with a brush of his hands for Jimin, tossing a whole bowl of them onto the floor. Where they've stayed since then) they're fighting, the man must have managed to disarm Hobi somehow because the gun sits under one of the chairs. Both of them are fighting just beside the dining room table. Part of it splintered and broken where someone broke it.
They're grappling on the floor now. Pushing against each other trying to gain the upper hand. you've watched the alpha's wrestle before- small disputes to settle and reaffirm the hierarchy, but you've never seen hobi move like this. You watch the man grasp at his waist reaching for the knife. His hands so slick with his own blood that it clatters to the floor. Hobi may not be trained but he's a fighter too. Gnashing his teeth and growling. Reaching up into the shallow gash at the mans throat and digging in his fingers.
And then he’s got Hobi on the ground and his hands around your alpha's throat. Tae tries to get him off but he backhands her, sending her sprawling to the ground and clutching her cheek. Too dizzy to stand. Big hands that squeeze and squeeze and squeeze Hobi's narrow throat. Spit at the corner of his lips turning frothy as hoseok tries to breathe and can't.
“I didn’t come this far to get killed by a bunch of family rejects; 11 years and 1458 kills later and I will not die. Just give up already- I didn’t come this far to-”
Hobi’s face is turning purple, hands scrabbling, pushing against his face trying to get him off unsuccessfully. Dying there on the floor. Hobi is going to die right there if you don't do anything.
Jin is shouting from the other room and there is a frying pan in the kitchen. On the countertop that you snatch on your way past, winding up for it before you swing it with all your might at the man's head and-
At the end of the day, it’s hard to say exactly what kills him. Whether it's you or Tae who wields the killing blow. It’s more of a group effort between you and her.
Tae has read countless books that described love as some gentle force, but this love has not made her gentle. Tae cannot sit there on the floor and watch Hobi die. She'd do anything to protect him and the pack. She’d kill people like Minnie did, would lie just as Jin had, would have sacrificed anything- even herself just like Yoongi.
Love had always been giving in Tae's mind, and she would give countless sins and untold violence, to have this not be the last day with you and the pack.
The gun is just sitting there under the chair. tae hardly has to lean over to get it. (If she makes it out of this alive, she swears to himself that she'll finally start taking those kickboxing classes that Jungkook teaches.) Tae lifts the gun at the same moment that your hand descends with the frying pan.
Tae turns, points, aims, and fires. She doesn’t even think twice about it. The trigger goes down as easily as breathing.
Getting shot in the throat definitely distracts him enough, definitely makes him let go of Hobi, clutching at his own throat instead of his. blood rushing over his hand and down onto hobi's face. So much that it almost splashes.
And then the frying pan hits his head with a hollow final thud.
There is a placid terror in things like this, a quiet as things go and come. The thumping, the sobbing breaths you let out, the descent of your hand, beating out your terror on the body below, a vessel for all of your fear.
The handle of the frying pan is thick and heavy in your hands. You bring it down on the man’s head, the curved edge of the cast iron connects with the plate of his skull with a hollow thud. One second, he's clutching at his blown-apart throat, and the next he goes limp, blood and brain matter splatters loud and heavy along the floor. Falling on top of Hobi like a lead weight.
Hobi's brown eyes are bloodshot and red in his mouth, heaving one big breath that sends the room spinning. Sends vertigo into his veins and panic-running adrenaline. You lift your arms up again and hit him, descending again and again.
His body is still, so still. His chest gives one open shudder and then goes truly quiet. Frozen in time. You are covered in blood, in your mouth, on your hair, on the ceiling. More and more splatters as your hand goes up and then down in an endless loop.
Dark cotton soaks, matted with blood and brain matter, blurry from your tears. A bit of it hits your face, wet and stinky. People never tell you how horrible it smells when people die.
You don’t stop hitting the man, even when it's clear he's dead. Even when you glare down at him through the tears in your eyes and see half a face staring up at you. An eyeball rolls across the floor.
There are arms around you pulling you off of him eventually. Dry warm arms, big and heavenly. One wrist dangles with a pair of handcuffs as Jin yanks you back from the man. The body.
“Pup- It’s done, pup- he's gone- Stop.”
There is blood all over you. On your face, on your hands, around the frying pan. Tae too, sitting just beside you. Half of her body splattered. Hobi's soaked with it and still struggling to breathe. But both of them, the three of them are alive.
“It’s over pup.” Jin sounds like he might be crying. Tae definitely is.
Hobi puts his head between his knees, gasping for every breath but still breathing. Tae's got him in his lap. Holding on to him as he splutters. face so soaked with blood he can't open his eyes without blinking rapidly.
It’s anything but over you think as you let go of the handle of the frying pan.
It clatters to the ground with a bloody and final thunk.
~-~
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Notes:
if the beginning of the chapter feels weird/different in terms of narration that is because it was mostly written 3+ years ago and my writing style has changed alot! kinda crazy! hopefully people will just attribute it to hoseok's internal monologue. it might be meandering but i kept reminding myself that this is hoseok at his lowest you know?
One thing i want you guys to realize is that the m/c may not be smart, but holy fuck can she take a beating and still get up.
Gun shoot outs are uniquely hard to write because like, just bang and it's done right? idk why part of this writing just felt so tedious usually i love writing stuff like this :(
hobi calls the m/c his girlfriend 🥺 did you guys notice???? he's such a cute pup charecter.
i have more notes for this chapter BUT i can't share them until the next one is out because it involves hobi's secret.
i hope you guys see like- how good the m/c actually is at the crime and thinking on her feet shit- i think that this chapter above all others shows her street smarts. she knows to keep the guy talking and distracted- i think it compliments her similarities to jimin and jin like. the trio of them are very capable people you know? vs hobi who just headlong rushes the assassin and fucks shit up. i'm not saying it's his fault- he does the best that he can in this chapter.
I'm trying to pull from my actual knowledge of how guns work but fun fact, silencers are still fucking loud, like still so loud that you need ear protection. and even blank bullets can still cause serious injury at close range.
I'm again at the stage where i can't tell if the gun shooting scene is clunky and too predictable or if it's actually as creepy as i've made it out to be.
This is one of those situations- the bargaining for each others lives, that i've actually never had to handle. it's actually pretty unusual for me to write about things that i haven't experienced in some way shape or form.
i've only written a few scenes in my life that have made me wonder like "huh- i wonder if people might actually think that i've seen a dead body, been around a dead body, or killed someone before?" and ngl, the scene with the assassin dying is one that makes me wonder that... i promise i just have a scarily vivid imagination.
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bonny-kookoo · 7 months
Text
Jungkook
𝐒𝐭𝐞𝐫𝐞♡𝐭𝐲𝐩𝐞𝐬 🔞
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Who said every omega needs an alpha?
Tags/Warnings: Omega!Jungkook, Omega!Reader, Omega!Jimin, Mentioned Alpha!Yoongi, Stereotypes, Friends to lovers, Major Fluff, Romance, Slight angst, injury, brief hospital visit, smut, oral (f. Receiving), smut, Dom!Jungkook, protected sex, knotting, biting
Length: ~5k Words
There is no taglist for this fic.
A/N: Boo.
-> Masterlist
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Jeon Jungkook.
He's a good looking guy, above average in almost everything he does, and easy to like. Conversations flow easily around him and friendships blossom left and right- almost everyone knows and likes him. It's hard not to, really; as an Omega, he's naturally passionate and caring, a gentle guy that enjoys making others happy.
You met him at a friend's birthday party, the young wf having noticed you standing mostly all by yourself without really conversing with anyone. He'd been kind enough to introduce himself, stay with you, and keep you there for much longer than you usually stay at gatherings like these.
And right now, he's standing in front of you, smile still on his lips and hands tucked away in his jacket pockets while he sways front and back on his heels after having told you he's interested in you.
Romantically.
"There's a.. You said you collect those stuffed animals, squishmallows, right? There's a new store that sells the really huge ones. We could stop by that store tomorrow, if you'd like." he offers, curious eyes watching you with a glimmer that's just.. Jungkook.
Jungkook is new. Different. He's nothing you'd expect, always doing something you'd never be able to guess- and ut makes spending time with him hoth exciting and a little stressful at times.
His eyes always seem to sparkle when he smiles. It's honestly unfair, how they always put you under their spell with their boba-pearl charm. How can you say no?
How can anyone ever tell him no?
"I.. Okay wait. You.. And me?" you wonder, and he nods, smile turning into a grin that makes his lower eyelids raise. "But I'm not, uh… Are you sure?" you wonder, and he becomes surprised at that it seems.
"I am. I wouldn't have asked you out like this if I wasn't." he says, still swaying a little.
He's always been like this. Never staying still. Always up to something. Constantly moving. Like his body is constantly generating excess energy he can't seem to burn. Like the energizer bunny.
"what makes you think I'm joking?" he asks, and you look down, rather watching the tips of his shoes than his gaze any longer.
You can't stand his gaze. You're gonna melt into a puddle if you look at him any longer.
"I'm just.. Me. And you're you. Shouldn't you want someone more.. Opposite of you, rather than the same?" you ask carefully and it seems that it clicks for him in that moment.
It's technically common sense- alphas get with omegas, omegas with alphas. That's how it goes- or so one might think.
But Jungkook isn't any wolf. He's not ordinary in anything he does- so it's unsurprising that his sub-gender also isn't what one might expect.
"Ah~." he hums mostly to himself, before shaking his hair out of his eyes after the wind had blown it over his face, fingers pulling the strands from his piercings decorating his bottom lip. "Stereotypes. You're talking about me being an omega and all that, right?" he wonders, and you nod.
"Sorry." you instinctively say. The regret of your words already starting to make you uneasy. Did you insult him now?
Male omegas tend to be very sensitive when it comes to this. Or maybe that's Stereotypes too?
"No problem, lots of people think that way." he shakes it off, taking a step towards you. "But, rather than explaining to you what is and isn't true about the stuff people say-" he starts, feigning innocence before he grins at you, holding your hands in his now, playfully, just by the tips of your fingers. "-how about I show you?" he asks, and you look back at him.
"huh?" you can only answer, and he sways again, tilting his head to the side a little, swinging your hands a bit.
"Go out with me." he bluntly suggests, grinning brightly. "And I'll show you."
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Wolf's sub-genders have been the topic of Novels and movies for a long time now.
The most popular trope being the alpha that falls in love with their omega, to live happily ever after. Some of your own favourite media actually includes this stereotype as well- and for a long time, in your head and in many others, this was the most ideal couple amongst wolves.
However, reality is more complex than that, and you're roughly reminded of that with the way Jungkook behaves.
While he does offer a lot of the general traits associated with being an omega, such as his big round eyes and constant need for physical contact, he also doesn't fit others at all. He's muscly, masculine body dressed comfortably in clothes made of soft materials, and his behavior, while gentle and soft in the way he acts, feels oddly confident and almost dominant to you.
He's sure in his walk. He knows his worth.
There's a hand on your back leading you without any force through the store, like a remote control, no need for actual strength.
There's that glimmer in his eyes every time you struggle and ask him for help with something, as if he's amused by the fact that he makes you nervous.
There's that look of victory in his face whenever you seem flustered by any of his words, Luke it's a game he keeps winning.
He's making your head spin.
You're both sitting on a blanket in a calm park- when he lays down, patting the spot next to you in an inviting manner. "Come here." he smiles, and you do so- easily cuddling up to him, surprising yourself even, considering you're not one that's this easy with physical contact like that. But Jungkook? He runs the inside of his wrist over your neck, bashful smile on his lips as he watches you, caring nature of his sub-gender showing in his actions.
"What're you doing?" you wonder, and he grins sheepishly, caught red handed.
"Scenting you." he says. "I- we technically do it differently as wolves but, I don't wanna seem pushy." he admits, and you nod. You know how it usually goes.
You remember your last alpha doing it, licking your neck instead, or biting. It made you anxious. Every bite could've been made to last, after all.
"…Thank you." you tell him due to that, the way he makes sure he's never too forceful making you feel at ease- and slightly guilty. "And sorry." You apologize because of this.
"for what?" Jungkook wonders. "I had a nice day, even better than I could've imagined. I'm feeling really happy right now." the young man explains, and it makes you a little jealous how easy it seems for him to voice out his emotions.
You're not that good at it. Maybe he can teach you?
"For judging." you explain, but he just scrunches up his nose before softly flicking a finger under your chin, teasing you.
"Don't worry. It's normal." he shrugs, before rolling onto his back, your head on his tattooed arm as you watch the clouds as well next to him. "Do you think.. We could try?" he wonders, and after a moment of thinking, you nod.
You know what he means by that. And you want to try as well.
And he swears, if he had a tail, it would be wagging like an excited puppy.
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Your first kiss happens rather Spontaneously.
It's unprepared, a little clumsy, happening in the kitchen after you'd placed a small bandaid over the cut Jungkook had accidentally given himself while helping you cook. Seeing you tend to such a minor wound so carefully just set something off inside him- and he couldn't help himself.
And after the initial shock of it all, kisses seem to be a constant around Jungkook.
As soon as you meet up, there's a quick peck as a greeting, lips barely properly touching, but enough to make the gesture of affection count.
Small kisses on your cheek whenever he's close enough, just to see you turn red, shyness of you just too precious to look away from.
And most importantly? The way he scents you changed.
While pretty tame at first, the entire act of scenting you has become somewhat heated these days- just like now, as he runs his lips over the crook of your neck, back and forth, hands almost sensually running over your body, clothes suddenly feeling itchy.
He never crosses boundaries, never bites where you don't want to, never pushes himself past your limits just because it's easy to do. He's gentle, caring, offers you just what you need in the right amount, easing you into the waters that's his love.
And it makes you brave. It makes you want more.
Your own limbs seem to want him closer as well, your mind slowly becoming more and more trusting towards him, as he builds up the affection every time you spend time with one another.
It started just with cuddling on the couch while watching a movie. Then, the kisses got added to the mix- shy at first, his confidence with you slowly building up towards the point of where you are today; Heated, bodies warm and needy as his hand travels underneath your soft fleece shirt, fingertips carefully meeting the underline of your chest. "Still okay?" He asks, lowly so as if worried he might pop the little bubble you're both in and wake you up from the trance of emotions, but you simply nod, smiling, happy.
And as an omega, he feeds off of your emotions; he thrives in the fact that you're giving yourself into his arms so freely and comfortable, no worries in your scent whatsoever in his presence.
He shamelessly purrs at the way you kiss his collarbone, lips pressing over a tiny little beauty mark he has in that area, making him shiver in pleasure. You've not talked about going all the way yet- and right now, he's not trying to get into your pants at all. You're so attentive to him, offering such kind affection, that its enough for now. He can't deny however that your scent is driving him crazy- making him hungry for even more intimacy than he's receiving already.
He's needy. Craving.
"Can I eat you out?" He asks breathlessly so, and your eyes widen before your cheeks grow a bit red. "You don't have to say yes." He adds at the sight of your shyness, but you just shrug in response.
"I don't know what it feels like.." You start, before you look up at him, and he feels himself feeling upset. How come you've never experienced that? You're so sweet, you should've been able to explore your most carnal desires with someone you trust. "..but I trust you." You say, and his body erupts into happiness.
You trust him.
You trust him.
It washes over him like the hot stream of water in the shower after a long day, making him nod eagerly as he kisses you first and foremost. Jungkook is pretty orally focused, you've noticed; playfully nipping your skin here and there, kissing you randomly, or just running his sensitive lips over the soft skin of the back of your hand, feeling your skin with his mouth and hot breath. So it's not a surprise when he doesn't mind kissing you a bit more chaotically, open mouthed and tongue exploring your mouth with confidence.
He loves you, after all- and he can see, feel, that you're falling for him too.
He makes it all feel so natural that you can't help but giggle at the feeling of his kisses down your bare stomach; dress pushed up by his hands, a grin showing when he notices your reaction to his antics. He feels as if he's high- never having had the opportunity to be in a situation as easy and simple as this; both of you just existing, no words needing to be shared, no roles defined, no goal in mind other than making the other just as happy as yourself.
It's an odd feeling at first, but simply the sight of him so immersed in the act makes it feel ten times more erotic to you than you thought it might. Your breathing is deep, occasional sighs escaping you, soft voice chanting out his name like a mantra to keep you sane; and he starts to feel drunk off of it, teasing licks turning into more determined motions, tongue flat on your most sensitive area, the feeling odd but not unpleasant. All that fills your head is simply your approaching high, not in the slightest feeling like anything you could've done to yourself.
How will it be when you're both in heat?
You've known each other for months now, after all. Your cycle has synced up by now, you've noticed last time he'd taken time away to himself.
Your back arches as you roll your hips closer to him, lost in the ecstasy while his hands hold a firm grip on your thighs, fingers digging into the flesh while you ride out your orgasm on his tongue, before he let's go of you, wiping his mouth with the back of his hand before crawling back up to lay down next to you with an impish smile on his red lips. "Hey." He jokingly greets you after you've opened your eyes again, noticing how he's moved your dress back down again as to not have you get cold.
Jungkook lays there with a smile, and you feel funny in his presence like this. You've never had anybody talk to you or treat you like he does ever before- you're used to either being told exactly what to do, or to be scolded for what you're doing or have done- so him talking to you like you're something special makes you a little confused on how to act.
And it makes you scared, because up until now, you've ruined everything good.
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"So have you, you know? Repaid the favor?" Jimin asks, eating his sandwich in front of you while you suddenly turn pale. "Oh." He just humms, while you let your face fall into your hands.
"Oh god, I'm such a nasty bitch, really.." You groan, eyes stinging already at the thought of Jungkook having expected you to get him off as well, just to get nothing in return but a stupid cuddle. The shame washes over you like waves on a stormy day, clashing against your bones with anger that swells up in your chest. You're upset at yourself now, appetite having vanished, and now you're even madder at yourself because Jimin had literally paid for that little piece of cake you'd chosen to eat here, and now you can't even enjoy it anymore.
Hormones are a gorrible thing, especially for omegas. And the stress you have these days just really fucked you over, causing you to drop into a new mental low.
"Hey, no-" Jimin says, wiping his mouth with a napkin before a hand reaches out to touch your arm. "-I'm sure he would've said something if he'd expected anything." He says, making you look at him with glossy eyes.
"Great, so you're saying he doesn't want me like that, thanks." You say roughly, and Jimin sighs, running a hand through his hair. "Oh god I'm sorry, now I'm all moody and-"
"Everything alright?" Jungkook's voice rings out next to you, as he stands close to your chair now, having spotted you in the small cafe with Jimin while passing by on his way home from work. "Hey, what happened?" He coos worriedly, bending down a little to get a better look at you who's hiding your face in your hands, humiliated about crying in a public setting like this, while Jungkook tries to assess the problem- your scent making him anxious too, but in a different way.
You're his partner. And his instincts tell him to offer you comfort, make you feel better.
You've always been overly emotional like this, but its worse now than ever. Jimin said that it's probably from being raised so roughly by your more than strict parents- after all, he remembers the times he had to make up stories just so you would be allowed to stay over at his family home, or for you to attend school trips. He's put himself into the line of fire constantly just to hang out as a friend with you- your mother hating him growing up for being a 'bad influence', and your father even threatening him with violence after Jimin had cut your hair for you, having grown tired of you being unable to express yourself even in the slightest at the age of 15. You remember how Jimin had grinned to you the next day, after everyone at school genuinely complimented you for your new appearance.
However, years after and now both of you working adults, you still have the habit of breaking down crying at the sight of the slightest thing going south in your life. But Jimin simply smiles watching Jungkook squatting next to your seat, carefully wiping your cheeks and eyes concentrated as he listens in on your hiccups interrupting your words to him, none of it very coherent.
But he manages to understand.
"Baby, it's totally fine, I don't hate you." He chuckles, pulling a chair from an empty table close by to sit next to you. "I'm sorry, I didn't mean to interrupt you both, by the way." Jungkook laughs, reaching out to shake Jimin's hand. "Jungkook, nice to meet you."
"Jimin. She's been talking non-stop about you." He teases, making you pout while drying your eyes with a napkin, earning a snort from Jungkook who just can't help but find your glare cute.
At the end of the day, you're happy to see your best friend and boyfriend get along so well- both making sure you know you didn't do anything wrong- and that it's totally fine to cry.
Jimin making sure to underline that no one even noticed at all.
•━━━━━━━━━━•.♡.•━━━━━━━━━━━━•
"I'm sorry sir, but I don't feel comfortable leaving you alone with her at all." Jungkook says, and it's all a face-off you never hoped you'd have to witness.
Your father had arrived unannounced to apparently bring something over your mother had sent- but you know he just does it to tell you how 'messy' your apartment is, and how you don't have your life under control. You don't know why exactly he does it- any parent would be happy to see their child earn a living from a job they genuinely enjoy; your art selling for high prices, well known celebrities decorating their homes with your works. Jimin had always said that your father is simply jealous- but you can't help but feel small under your parent's strong gaze and harsh words, Alpha father too intimidating to resist bowing to.
And now? Right now your father had told Jungkook to leave, and to yours (and probably your father's too) surprise, Jungkook had declined.
An omega, refusing an alpha's command.
"I'm sorry too, dog, but It's not up to you to decide that." Your father responds, and you worriedly look between the two men, when Jungkook speaks up yet again.
"You're right, it's up to her." Jungkook says. "It's her apartment after all." He says, turning a bit to look at you. You quietly nod, giving him the sign that yes, you want this man out, but you can't bring yourself to say it. It makes Jungkook feel protective of you in this situation, no mate able to stay calm at the prospect of their partner feeling in danger of anything in their presence. "Please leave, or I will call police." Jungkook says, and your father scoffs.
"I'll give you a nice black eye before they get here then, how about it?" He threatens, and while you step in front of Jungkook in a moment of thoughtlessness and reckless protection, you end up receiving the punch right into the side of your head, knocking you to the ground.
"No!" Jungkook barks out, rushing down to your level to check up on you- before spotting your father looking down at the scene with horror.
"I didn't mean to-" He almost whispers, before he takes a shuddering breath, leaving the apartment and you two alone.
You feel dizzy, headache already starting while your hearing sounds like cotton wool had been stuffed into it. It's distant, almost non-existent, and you can only hear Jungkook with your unaffected side. "What's wrong, baby, talk to me.!" he urges, and you sit up a bit straighter, noticing an odd feeling in your ear that makes you run your finger over the opening of your ear canal. When you move it away to reveal red spots of blood, the omega wolf immediately rushes to get his car keys, rushing to the emergency room with you next to him.
An overnight stay, and thorough examination later, you're free to go again, Jungkook making sure to cover all the formalities for your release, while you wait in your room.
"I can't believe he fucking punched you. Oh my baby peanut.." Jimin jokes dramatically, though you know there's genuine anger directed at your father in his words. He's currently keeping you company, his job as a nurse coming in quite handy in times like this, before the door opens to reveal a smiling Jungkook.
"Alright, I've been given your antibiotics and papers, so we're good to go now." He informs you, making you nod, albeit a bit hesitant after being told not to move your head too violently.
"You're lucky there wasn't anything more serious." Jimin sighs.
"Her hearing will be back soon right?" Jungkook asks, and Jimin nods.
"A month or two, typically. The bruising will be down even quicker I imagine."
And Jungkook nods, keeping in mind to never let you get hurt again.
•━━━━━━━━━━•.♡.•━━━━━━━━━━━━•
True to his words, a few months later, there's no trace of your past injury any longer.
Now on a spontaneous camping trip Jungkook had surprised you with to help you get over your artists-block and give you some inspiration, you're both entangled inside the van he had rented out, the rain pattering harshly onto the roof of it. You're both unconcerned with the little thunderstorm outside however, rather occupied with each other as he finally uncovers all of your body for himself.
You'd thought it would all feel much weirder than it actually does, but it's Jungkook- every move he makes feels natural at his point, even if the territory you're both walking on right now is absolutely new to you.
The condom over his length makes it a bit easier for him to push himself inside you, your warmth welcoming him eagerly and making him struggle to compose himself. You're just so pretty in the dim orange light that shines inside the van from the front that he can't help himself, his instincts to breed you full of his cum pushing itself into the front of his mind. You'd look so good covered in his release- and you'd smell even better, he knows it already.
Maybe next time. Or next round? How long can you take it?
Right now he's gasping for air, your little whimpers making him feel more sensitive than he's ever felt before. Not even his own heat compares to this burning need he feels growing inside him, your hips rolling up into him, and he's a goner. A growl leaves his throat before he bites around your neck, movements becoming more frantic now in the heat of the moment, needing to claim you as his. "I love you." He hums into your neck, and you respond with your own confession, before his hand angles your leg a little better, his thrusts a lot more desperate at this point. The van is probably visibly shaking from the outside, force of his hips hard enough to fill the small interior of the sleeping area with the wet sound of skin against skin, and your sensual breaths.
You're whining for more, but for what exactly you're not sure of. But again, as if he can read your mind, he knows- hand reaching between you both to press and roll your clit between his fingers, making your core clench and thighs shake with your sudden orgasm, his hips never ceasing to move as you wrap your arms around his neck to pull him closer, kiss him feverishly.
It gives him the final push to cum as well- though he's a bit disappointed it has to be inside the condom, and not you.
But, Again; maybe next time.
You're overly sensitive, noticing something odd happening, but he reassures you with licks and kisses to the bruised spot he'd bitten over and over on your neck while his arms hold you close. "Did you forget yet baby?" He chuckles amused, making you a bit shy considering the position you're now in.
Completely connected, his knot keeping him inside you at all costs.
"Kook?" You wonder when you notice the muscles in his thighs still trembling occasionally, hips pushing as close as he can get, breaths studdering, gasping. He's moaning quietly every time you involuntarily clench around his length still inside or move too much, and it's in that moment that you realize he's probably still in the midst of his orgasm.
Talk about drawn out.
It doesn't take long for him however to notice your rather impish acts, the way you seem to be very aware and in control of your actions- and much to your surprise, the moment he's able to slip out and discard the filled condom, he's back between your legs, thrown over his shoulders with a grin on his lips that spells trouble in bold.
"You didn't think I was done yet, did you?"
•━━━━━━━━━━•.♡.•━━━━━━━━━━━━•
"I'm a little worried though." Jimin says, sighing next to you while you reach into the bag of chips he's holding, TV show playing on the screen while you both spend a day together alone. "Yoongi is an alpha- what if I get on his nerves or something? Alphas are said to be quite moody.." He mumbles.
You giggle, adjusting the strap of your tank top that rests right over the permanent scar of Jungkook's forever bite.
"Don't worry Jiminie." You simply reassure him.
"That's all just stereotypes."
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sailoryooons · 3 months
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Red | KNJ | (m)
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☾ Pairing: Werewolf!Namjoon x f. reader
☾ Summary: For as long as you can remember, your village has been relatively normal. But when people begin to turn up dead right after a group of newcomers arrive, pieces of your past start to fall into place, and something feels familiar - particularly the quiet man who can't take his eyes off of you.
☾ Word Count: 21,148
☾ Genre: Supernatural, thriller, smut
☾ Rating: 18+ Minors are strictly prohibited from engaging and reading this content. It contains explicit content and any minors discovered reading or engaging with this work will be blocked immediately. 
☾ Warnings: Fantasy violence, light depections of murder and animal attacks, mentions of gore, discussions about community displacement and violence, Yoongi is an asshole, animal attacks, depictions of blood, tbh reader and Namjoon don’t know each other THAT well when they fuck so idk, implied protecting from a far but not in a stalker way, explicit language, intense sequences of fear and anxiety, reader is attacked by a wolf, there is a mention of animals being hurt/killed but not in explicit details, dead bodies, arson, sexually explicit content invluding vaginal fingering, nipple play, vaginal penetration, a little bit of mention of fluids but not really. 
☾ Published: Sunday, January 21 2024
☾ A/N: I wish I could explain to you how this got to be so long. I wrote it over several weeks and each day I picked it back up, I just kept adding dialogue and scenery and setting. Like half of this isn’t even Namjoon and reader reacting - what was I doing? I wish I knew! I hope you like my spin on Red Riding Hood anyway! I tried to do this in a way that it doesn’t seem creepy that Namjoon was silently looking out for reader but like… I could understand if someone finds it creepy I am so sorry lmfao.  I did read through this to edit but I 100% missed stuff because I'm a rougher editor and this is unbeta'd.
☾ A/N 2: This is a Red Riding Hood Retelling that is similar in vibe to the 2011 Red Riding Hood movie directed by Catherine Hardwicke.
 Disclaimer: All members of BTS are faces and name claims for this story. This is entirely a work of fiction and by no means is meant to be a projection, judgment or representation of real-life people. Any scenarios or representations of the people and places mentioned in works are not representative of real-life scenarios.
| Masterlist | Ask | Make Me Your Villain Collab | Taglist
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Father always said not to go into the woods at night. Like him, though, the woods have always called to you, feeling like a second home. You’ve never been able to explain it, and you’ve stopped trying to. 
It’s a little chilly outside, the first breath of harvest air nipping at your skin. In a few weeks, it will be freezing outside, forcing you into cloaks and furs. 
Grass crunches beneath your feet as you slip through the small yard and toward the tree line. Your house already sits at the edge of the village, the dark trees stretching high above the rooftops. Soon the trees will be dusted in snow, but for now, they sway gently in the autumn breeze, turned silver by the moonlight. 
You’ve always loved the woods. The sounds of the crickets singing and rabbits dashing underfoot are calming, the smell of sticky pine and fresh air invigorating. You especially love them at night, hidden beneath boughs and walking through the shafts of moonlight that slip through the trees. 
The best part is that you don’t feel so alone out here. There is a feeling you cannot place each time you enter the woods, like you’re a little closer to discovering yourself. You’ve been chasing that feeling since you were a little girl, hungry for finding whatever it is that drives you out here. 
Hands tucked into your pockets, you walk the same route you always follow. It isn’t deep into the woods - you aren’t silly enough to believe you’re safe alone in the dark - but it’s enough of a walk to clear your head. 
Howls echo up into the night, a wolf pack on their hunt. The sound of them makes the hair on your arms stand on end.
The wolves don’t come very close to the village anymore since the vicious wolf hunts when you were barely old enough to remember them. The relationship between the men of your home and the wolves in the wood is violent, a chill cooling your skin every time they’re mentioned by one of your neighbors. 
A terrible howl splits the night. You feel your body go cold with fear, warmth leaching out of you as you press yourself against a tree, heart in your throat. The sound is something like a howl laced with utter anguish, chilling you down to the marrow. It tapers off into a whimper before falling silent again. 
Pressed against the tree, you wait. Your heart is beating so harshly that it feels like you might vomit in fear. Soft whimpering drifts on the wind. You hold your breath and strain your ears. It almost sounds like an injured dog.
It tugs at your heartstrings. You bite your lip, weighing your options. The noise sounded like it came from the south a little off of your path and toward the ravine that splits the part of the woods that is relatively safe from the deeper part where the animals are more lethal and more frequent. You could easily find your way back if you made it to the ravine, and as the whimpering vanishes entirely, you can’t help but imagine an animal in pain. 
The most difficult part about working with Dr. Kim at the veterinary clinic is always the animals that he can’t fix. You’ve held the hands of loved ones who couldn’t save their aging dogs, and you’ve hushed lame horses as Dr. Kim prepared draughts to send them to sleep and then to death. 
Pivoting, you turn and march toward the initial sound. It may perhaps be the single worst idea you’ve ever had, but you suddenly don’t care. You’ve worked with Dr. Kim enough to know how to triage animal wounds, and the thought of leaving something alone and suffering replaces any sort of fear you originally had. 
You’re careful not to lose your footing as the ground slopes steadily as you get closer to the ravines and canyons of the south side. Leaves shift underneath your feet as you go. It feels overly loud in a forest that is suddenly so quiet, only filled with the softest sound of labored breathing.
A small dip in the ground catches you off guard. You gasp, a scream stuck in your throat as you lose your footing and slide down the slope, your back and ass hitting the ground hard as you slide, leaves hissing underneath you. You scramble to grab a hold of something, but the hill isn’t very high and you hit the bottom of it quickly.
Heart pounding, you lay in the damp leaves for a second, panting, hand pressed to your heart as it rattles under your palm. Just as the fear settles down, a growl makes your blood run cold. Slowly, you begin to turn your face toward the left. You realize you’ve slid down a dell, and a few yards from you is a large, shivering form covered in fur.
You blink. Once. Twice. You realize that the large mound of fur is a creature - a wolf. It lays on the ground shaking, a ride of jet black hair standing up on its spine, hackles raised. The wolf’s ears are pinned back and its yellow eyes are wild, nearly consumed by the dark pupils drinking you in. Its teeth are bared, foam and drool lining pink gums as it snares, nose twitching. 
It’s the biggest wolf you’ve ever seen. You can’t move. You can only stare at it, wondering why it continues to snarl and stare at you, but not move. Your eyes rove its trembling form from maw to tail, and you realize its front leg is wet and held at an odd angle.
“Oh,” you gasp, realizing that the wolf’s foot is stuck in a claw trap. “I’m so sorry. I… can I help you?”
The wolf stops growling for a moment as if it understands. You stare with wide eyes, not daring to move as it assesses you. It leans toward you and sniffs, the sound of snuffing loud in the silence of the dell. For a few moments, you just watch as the beast regards you. 
Then, it chuffs and looks at its own foot, whining. You sit up slowly in amazement. The creature watches you with what you can only describe as a caution. You get up carefully and make your way toward the wolf. It watches your every movement. It can surely smell your fear as you get a few feet away, crouching down with your hands held out to let it know you’re not going to cause harm. 
You pause, waiting for permission to examine the wolf’s foot. It gazes at you and for a moment, you lose yourself in that burning, golden gaze. The wolf’s eyes are so human that it’s hard to see it as a simple beast. There is something alive and intelligent there.
As if sensing that you’re waiting for the all-clear, the wolf chuffs and lowers its head toward its foot, gesturing. You smile a little at that, marveling at the communication skills. Carefully, you look at the trap around the wolf’s foot. It’s a metal contraption that is pressure-engaged, with metal teeth. You cringe seeing the red on matted fur and metal.
“You must have stepped on the pressure plate,” you tell the wolf, though it probably doesn’t understand. You gesture to the round plate at the center of the trap. “It would have been in a circle and when stepped on, snapped closed like jaws.”
The wolf whines and bows its head. You wince. “They’re really strong,” you admit, chewing on your lip. “I don’t think I can pull it apart all the way, but I might be able to open it enough just for a moment for you to pull out your leg. Can you do that?” 
A huff. Somehow, you think if it could, the wolf might roll its eyes. Your mouth twitches in an almost smile as you get onto your knees, wiping sweaty hands on your pants. This close to the beast, you realize just how large it is. 
“This is going to hurt,” you insist. “Please… Please don’t bite me, okay? I want to help you.” 
The wolf lowers its head until it's lying on the ground, gold eyes watching you. Its muscles are tense and the hair along the ridge of its back is still standing, afraid and alert. 
“Okay. I’m just… I’m just going to touch the trap and try to get a grip first, okay?” The wolf doesn’t answer. It blinks at you, waiting. Licking your lips, you whisper, more to yourself than anything, “Okay, I can do this.”
Slowly, you reach out toward the wolf’s injured foot. You flick your gaze over to the wolf looking for a reaction. It just watches you, though you feel tension. The metal is wicked cold to the touch. You hiss and the creature flinches a little, a whistle-whine escaping its nose. You mutter an apology, fingers pressing to the ridges of the cold metal. 
It’s slippery with blood. You chew on your lip, prodding your finger in the space between the metal teeth on the edges where it’s not clamped around the wolf’s paw. You wiggle your finger a little, testing the strength of the closed jaws of the trap. It doesn’t budge and you curse. 
Sweat beads on the back of your neck, freezing in the cool air. You lift your other hand, very carefully trying to find a good grip on either side of the jaws to pry them open. The movement jostles the trap a little, the wolf snarling in pain. You flinch and rip your hands away, looking at it. Gold eyes burn and the wolf huffs, as though telling you to be more careful.
“Sorry,” you mutter. “I’m nervous and it’s hard to get a grip on it.” The wolf snorts. You glare at it. “I’m sorry, do you want to do this instead?” Your only answer is a rumble as it looks the other direction. “That’s what I thought.”
Sighing, you turn your attention back to the metal. Anyone a little stronger and older could probably pull it open. Seokjin for sure could - even Hoseok who is as old as you are, but plenty stronger. You try not to think about how weak you are, and instead wiggle your fingers through the gaps in the teeth.
The cool metal stings your hands. It’s not a great grip and your fingers are placed in bad positioning due to the teeth of the trap. Taking in a big breath, you try to pull the metal jaws apart. 
Nothing happens and you let your breath out, panting lightly as you stop trying to pull. The wolf flicks its tale but makes no other sound. With the way you’re gripping the jaws, you realize that pulling it apart is going to be difficult. It would rely on your forearms to peel the metal jaws backward… But if you were to push down and push apart, you could use your body weight as an extra boost. It would be pushing the jaws apart from above instead of trying to pry them apart with sheer strength.
Leaning high on your knees, you position yourself straight over the trap, your weight settling in on your forearms. You take another deep breath and this time when you pull, you push your weight down on the trap. For a second, it seems like it’s not going to give. You hiss through your teeth, muscles clenching, fingers burning as your skin presses against the metal as hard as you can stand it.
Then, the jaw opens a little. You grind your teeth harder, the ache in your arms growing as you push as hard as you can. Your forearms are trembling. You feel the vein throbbing in your neck and forehead. Just when you think you’re going to fail, the jaws give way again. You growl, feeling a surge of energy go through you at the small victory and you shove your body weight down on it hard. The springs creak a little and open more.
Little by little, the trap opens up. Your vision pulses red as you pant, strength waning. And then it’s like you hit the let-off point of the contraption, pushing it enough that the rest of the way it just falls open. You let go of the trap and the wolf yanks its leg from it. It now lies open and bloody as you collapse on the ground next to it, breathing hard, breath misting the air. 
Your heart beats in your ears, pulse thrumming in your neck wildly. For a second, you forget all about the wolf. You laugh up to the dark trees, a giddy feeling shooting through you. You did it, even though you didn’t think you would be able to. 
A dark presence alerts you. Slowly, you turn your head to face the wolf. It’s standing almost above you, looking more imposing than it did before. You swallow hard, mouth going dry as it blinks down at you. It favors the injured leg, but stands nonetheless, watching you. 
“Please don’t kill me,” you whisper, limbs trembling not only with exhaustion but fear. 
The wolf doesn’t kill you at all. Instead, it leans its head down and presses its cold, wet nose to your arm. You flinch, squeezing your eyes shut for a minute. Then the beast chuffs, making you peak at it. When you meet its gold eyes, you get the sense it is vaguely amused.
“Oh,” you breathe, relief sagging your aching body. “Cool. You’re not going to kill me.”
Standing, you realize that the wolf is still taller than you. You tilt your head upward, staring. There’s no way this is a normal creature, but you don’t know what else it could possibly be. You recall the legends of werewolves and dire wolves told by the men of your town, but you’re unsure if those are real. 
“Let’s take care of this,” you mutter, grabbing a branch and jamming it into the pressure plate of the trap. It snaps shut with a loud clang, snapping the branch, but otherwise ineffective now that it’s re-sprung. The wolf flinches and whines at the sound, no doubt remembering the feeling of the instrument on its leg. “Sorry.” 
Silence stretches out over the woods, the night growing deeper and cooler. You shiver, rubbing your hands up and down your arms as you turn to the wolf, which watches you keenly. 
“Will you be okay?” the question comes out as a whisper. The wolf huffs and steps forward, pressing its snout to your head. It’s cold and wet, making you shiver as it snuffs against your skin. “Good. I um - should start climbing this hill.”
It swivels its head and turns, waiting. You grin, realizing it will accompany you back up, at least. Though injured, the wolf is able to walk with three legs, the wounded leg lifted off the ground. Its gait is awkward and hobbled, but the two of you make it up the hill together, your breathing labored. 
At the top, moonlight shines through the trees and you both pause. A series of howls goes up in the night, startling you. The wolf looks up, ears twitching as it tilts its head, listening. Slowly, it turns to look at you, gold eyes sparkling. 
“I guess you have to go, huh?” it bows its head once. “Stay safe, okay?” 
The wolf steps forward. Presses its muzzle into your temple and huffs, making you grin. You smell pine and bergamot, pleasant and calming. “Yeah, you’re welcome.” 
Slowly, the wolf clambours off, vanishing into the dark woods, leaving you to hurry home yourself. 
-
“Wear this at all times for protection, especially in the forest,” you murmur, holding the neatly scrawled note. You frown and look down at the fine cloak folded on the dresser. It had appeared overnight as if by magic, a funny feeling flipping your stomach. “Where did you come from?”
The cloak, of course, has no answer. You lift your hand to feel it, breathing out a dreamy sigh. The inside is lined with soft bear fur. Outside is some of the finest cloth you’ve ever seen, gentle but sturdy to the touch and dyed the most delicious shade of scarlet. 
Carefully, you lift the cloak. It’s a little big for your size, but not unwearable. You slip it over your sleeping gown, loving the way the material ripples like blood over your shoulders, the fur lining keeping you warm. It smells like pine and bergamot, making you pause. 
Certainly, a wolf did not bring you a cloak. Still, the timing is quite odd. You don’t know who else could possibly make a cloak so fine in the village, and the smell… you shake your head. A wolf did not bring you a cloak, but it did seem perhaps you had a secret admirer. 
-
THIRTEEN YEARS LATER
“Boo!” You scream and drop the collection of logs in your hands, whirling around. Hoseok bursts into laughter, doubling over as he slaps his hands against his knees, hot breath misting the air. “You should see your face!”
“You rotten bastard!” You growl, picking up a log and throwing it at him. It doesn’t hit him, but he jumps away from it anyway, careful not to let it drop on his toes. “That isn’t funny!”
“It’s a little funny.”
“It’s not!” You crouch down and start picking up the timber. Hoseok at least has the decency to help you, starting with the log you threw at him. “There was another animal attack last night, in case you didn’t know.” 
That makes him pause. “There was?”
“Yes,” you hiss, snatching the last log and standing. “So stop lurking around corners and scaring me. It isn’t funny.” 
“Well, an animal isn’t going to attack you in the village. Unless you’re talking about Mingyu’s fiancee, anyway. That one is feral indeed.” 
You level Hoseok with a look and he gives you a grin. His nose and ears are red from the cold - and maybe a little guilt for scaring you - and he offers to take the timber from your arms. You let him, shoveling it over to him and marching around the front of your house. 
Wind howls between the houses, ripping at the ends of your red cloak. It catches your hood, throwing it up over your head as you shiver and tuck your hands into the fur lining. A shiver rattles up your spine as you kick the snow from your boots and rush inside, Hoseok quick on your heels. 
“So what happened?” Hoseok asks, following you to your room. 
“The Matheson Family,” you mumble. “They were attacked. San went down to collect new saddles his father ordered and found them slaughtered - their hounds too.” 
“They have hunting hounds - what the hell can kill those?”
“Perhaps it’s the wolves again. Dr. Kim was going with the city council to investigate.” 
Hoseok sighs. “The timing isn’t good. It’s about time the traders arrived. What if they bypass us entirely if the road is too dangerous?”
It’s a thought that has been plaguing everyone in the village. Because of the remote location on the north side of the woods, your small spec on the map relies on traders at the beginning of every winter for things that you’ll need to make it through: salt, extra grain and fruits, tools too advanced and large for the local smithy, repairs on houses and wagons. 
Arrival times of traders fluctuate every year. Sometimes there’s a cold snap, burying roads in heavy snow that are unnavigable. Other times, there is unrest in the woods when a rogue band of thieves gets the idea to rob travelers and hide in the woods until the city council sends a team of men to deal with it. 
Now, though, it’s getting into the late period of their arrival. The entire village holds its breath waiting for them, people looking out the open gates down the snowy road hoping to see a courier come ahead to announce the arrival of wagons and troupes of people. 
“Do you really think it’s wolves?” Hoseok asks. “I don’t think I’ve heard of wolf attacks like this since…” 
Hoseok winces. “It’s fine,” you assure him with a smile. “It’s not like I remember that time, much less remember my dad.” 
It’s true. Early memories of your childhood are murky at best. You remember being happy and loving your dad. You remember a period of fear and general uneasiness in the town, wolf attacks rampant and frequent. There had been plenty of men and women who died during that period, including your father.
That was a long time ago, though. For the most part, life in your small village is uninteresting. Some winters are harder than others, like the current season, but you’ve always managed to get by. 
“Do you remember much of that time period?” you ask him quietly. 
“Not really. Just that everyone was afraid. It was a really harsh winter and it drove wolves down from the mountains. I remember it being strange.”
“Strange how?” 
You chew your lip and shake your head, trying to encapsulate the thread of memory you have. Of feeling the tremor of fear in the air, the cold feeling of dread… like something violent was in the village. Something wrong.
“I don’t know. I was so young.”
“Hmm.” 
The talk of wolves makes you think about your wolf. Your lips curve at the memory of how gentle the wolf was, the somber eyes, and the smell of pine and bergamot. 
It would be a lie to say you had not gone out to the woods several times since that night to try and find the beast again. You haven’t seen him since, but you’ve always had a feeling he’s there somewhere. Watching. Waiting. 
“Either way,” Hoseok sighs. “Dad seems worried this winter will be like that time. He’s been doing a lot of will and testament papers at the office. He works late every night and is gone early in the morning.” 
“Really?”
“Want to hear what Mr. Hillshire is leaving for his kids?” Hoseok leans forward, conspiratorial. “You won’t believe it.” 
-
The bell over the door rings as someone enters the salon of Dr. Kim’s veterinary practice, drawing your attention. You straighten when you see San walk in.
“Hi, San,” you greet. “Here to pick up Maple?” 
“Yeah, is that alright? Mom is busy at the shop.” 
“Of course.” You wipe your sweaty hands on your skirts and gesture behind you with your thumb. “I’ll go fetch her. Dr. Kim is on an errand but she’s ready to go.” 
The back of the building with the kennels is quiet. The Choi family cat and two other sleeping dogs are the only occupants of the practice, making it an easy day. Maple is dozing in her kennel, chirping in protest when you open the cage and scoop her into a carrier. She’s a lazy thing, a calico with pretty eyes and a newly stitched ear. 
Carefully you carry her up front. San is standing patiently in the lobby, hands behind his back as he looks around nervously. You raise your brows as you come around the counter, handing over the carrier. “Everything okay?”
“Hmm?”
“You look nervous. It’s just me and the Lowells’ hounds back here.” 
“Oh, yes.” His ears blush pink as he accepts the carrier and steps back. “Just a nervous energy in general. I have been since um…”
Oh. You had forgotten that it was San who discovered the Matheson family disemboweled by some kind of animal. The constable had thought that maybe it was a pack of wolves but was concerned by how big the claw marks and destruction were. 
“I’m sorry,” you blurt.
“For what?”
“That you had to see that, I guess? It must have been terrifying.”
“A little,” he admits, looking at his shoes. “I walked the path to the Mathesons all the time. I don’t ever recall seeing something that could… do that.”
“Was it that awful?” 
He nods. “Like nothing I’ve ever seen. Don’t get me wrong, I go on hunting parties. We’ve seen the leftovers from bears and wolves. This was something worse. It felt like…” He shakes his head and looks up at you. “It felt angry.”
“Angry?”
“Yeah. I know that doesn’t make sense. It was probably just a beast coming down from the mountain because it was starving. You know how harsh winters are.” 
You hum in agreement. 
San dismisses himself, thanking you again for helping with the family cat and throwing a wave over his shoulder. You return it half-heartedly, already distracted with thoughts of what the animal attacks could mean.
You think about your wolf and how kind and intelligent it was. You don’t remember ever feeling a sense of impending doom like you do now, a heaviness to the air as you stand idly behind the counter. 
Dr. Kim's return startles you at the counter. You press your hands flat against the top of the desk, leaning up on your tiptoes as you see his son Seokjin enter behind him. Your heart flutters a little at the sight, still overwhelmed by his handsome face. 
Seokjin is tall and broad, with dark hair and a beautiful face. His sharp eyes find you and he gives you a half smile, though there seems to be something on his mind as he follows his father into the backroom, Dr. Kim barely saying hello as he goes, his brows furrowed in deep thought.
The two of them disappear and you watch the door swing shut behind them. Curious, you trail around the counter and softly walk over to the door, pulling it open a smidge.
It’s difficult to pick up on their words, but you can hear Dr. Kim’s timbre speaking in low tones from somewhere in the backroom. You hold your breath and wedge the door open a little more, pressing your ear toward the gap between the frame and the door. 
“... again. They’re going to want to start hunting parties again soon.”
“So what do we do?”
Silence. Then, “Send a message….”
“... brought it on themselves… it’s time to make things right.” 
Behind you, the bell rings at the door. You gasp, letting go of the door to the back room and spin around, heart hammering in your chest. Hoseok stands at the door, raising his brows in question. 
“What are you doing here?” you demand, suddenly angry that he’s startled you and ruined your sleuthing.
“I promised your mom I would walk home with you at the end of your shift, remember? Dangerous out there.” 
You blink and look out the window, realizing that the heavy gray of evening is setting over the road. You hadn’t realized it was so late. 
Nodding, you grab your cloak in a hurry. You pop your head into the back room, both Seokjin and Dr. Kim looking at you as you do. “I’m leaving for the evening, sir. Is there anything else you need?”
“No, thank you for watching the place while I was gone. Tomorrow we have to make a house call to the Marrow farm. Lame horse.”
Seokjin frowns. “Do you think that is wise?” Dr. Kim looks at his son under heavy brows. “With the current conditions.” 
“We’ll be fine.” Something passes between them, son and father locked in a heated gaze. You stand there awkwardly, glancing between the two.
Seokjin breaks his stare from his father and flashes you a grin. “You have someone to walk you home?”
“Yeah, Hoseok is here.” You hug the cloak tighter to your chest and Seokjin’s eyes drop to it. An unreadable expression passes his face before he nods. “Have a good evening!”
“You too.”
Leaving them behind, you head to where Hoseok waits for you, examining drawings of animal skeletons and anatomy. You pull your cloak on, feeling safe and warm under the red material. Hoseok looks up at you, thrusting his thumb at one of the drawings of a horse. “I don’t look like that, right?” 
-
The red cloak tied around you wicks the sweat from the back of your neck. Your fingers work quickly as you tie it, knowing you’re already late to meeting Dr. Kim. Thankfully, you don’t make a habit of being late and you’re sure he won’t mind too much.
Strange dreams had plagued you all night. Images of wolves, blood and mist. Echoes of howling, screaming and thunder. Now as you hurry out of your home and into the wicked wind of winter, you cannot shake a sense of premonition.
Dr. Kim is already on the doorstep when you arrive at the veterinary office, a heavy coat on his shoulders and a bag of tools in his hand. He nods when he sees you and comes down the steps, turning toward the south exit of the village. 
Neither of you speak. Beyond the fact that you don’t think you’d be able to hear Dr. Kim over the howling wind, it doesn’t feel like the kind of trip that requires speaking. The evergreens on either side of the road loom over you, bows heavy with snow. Every so often, a branch cracks with the weight of frozen icicles, making you flinch with the sound.
It feels like you’re being watched. Every so often, you swivel your head this way and that, glancing at the trees. The trunks are too close together and the branches to tangle to see beyond them on either side of the road. Still, your skin tingles from something beyond the cold, you just don’t know what. 
The Marrow farm is only a little over a mile from the main village, but the snow covered roads make it slow going. As you near the edge of where their acres begin, your boots are already heavy with melted slush and your calves and thighs burn from dragging your feet through the path. 
Perhaps it was not a good day to do a house call. 
Passing white-covered gates, you’re thankful that at least the wind has died down as the morning turns into midday. The sun is hidden by clouds, but there is a hint of warmth in the air. The Marrow farm is made up of three buildings: the small house in front, the large barn to the back left where they keep their animals, and a giant silo for grains. 
As you near the house, a loud banging reaches you. Both you and Dr. Kim pause, listening as the sound carries on the wind. It doesn’t sound like hammering, but rather like a door slamming over and over again. 
“Barn door?” you suggest, looking up at Dr. Kim. His dark eyes look at the house, expression grim. “But why would they let it slam relentlessly?” 
“Keep your wits about you,” he murmurs, ignoring your question. “Go to the main house. I’ll go round to the barn. Perhaps they’ve forgotten the appointment.”
No smoke comes from the chimney. No snow is cleared from the footpath to the door. The shutters are closed, which makes sense to keep the cold out. As you approach the steps leading up to the porch, you note that none of the hounds are baying. The Marrow’s have several bloodhounds, all of which keep noisy providence around the threshold of the door. 
Spine tingling, you lift your hand and knock. There’s no answer. You strain your ears, leaning forward for any hint that the Marrow’s or one of their two sons are coming to the door. Not even the dogs alert them of your presence. 
You think about San finding the Mathesons butchered and your stomach drops. You knock again, knuckles stinging with cold as they rap harshly against the wooden door. Tucking your hand back into your cloak, you wait. 
Nothing comes. 
Taking a deep breath, you reach for the door and twist the handle. It opens easily, swinging inward to a cold, empty home. Inside, the air is still and dead. Behind you, the breeze brushes the edges of your cloak and the hood on your head. 
Silence hangs. Licking your lips, you lift a foot. It hands over the threshold, fear making you pause. There is nothing inside the home, and yet you find that you’re utterly terrified of stepping inside. Your stomach knots and for a few moments, you just stand there with your foot in the air, staring with unseeing eyes into the dark interior. 
You step into the room and pause. Nothing happens. The air inside the home is stale, like the doors and windows have not been opened for a few days. The cold is bone deep, clinging to the undisturbed air. You scan the room for any sign of life, but see nothing that stirs. 
Everything looks lived in. There are knitted blankets tossed across the backs of old arm chairs, boots by the door, unlaced and soft with age. Mugs have been turned upside down and placed on a towel near the basin for drying, and there are dice on the kitchen table. 
Navigating slowly, you move to the hall with bedrooms. Doors hang open, revealing unmade beds and clothes on the floor. Here too, the air feels undisturbed. You hear the breeze outside and the soft creak of the house, but nothing else makes a sound, save for the loud beating of your own heart. 
Shivering, you make your way to the front of the home. Something foul hangs in the air and you want to be rid of the feeling, quickening your steps to leave through the front door and-
Fear stabs deep into your stomach when you see the wolf standing in the doorway. It stands half in the home, half out, only the front two paws over the threshold. The beast barely fits in the door frame, wide as two men standing side by side and tall as a horse. 
You don’t move. It stares at you with bright, burning eyes. Its fur is dark, though there is a jagged ring of light fur around the right, front paw. You swear you smell pine and bergamot. Something nudges at the back of your mind as the two of you stand off - and it clicks into place.
“You,” you breathe. “You’re the wolf I helped!” 
For a moment, the bright yellow eyes stare at you. They’re unreadable, and yet… emotive. Intelligent. Understanding. The wolf dips its snout in a nod. 
“What are you doing here? Where are the Marrows?” 
The wolf’s ears flicker. Slowly, it backs out of the house. Throwing caution to the wind, you rush after him, nearly tripping over a wolfskin rug in the home.
Outside, the wolf stands below the porch. You step on the porch and pull up short, heart racing as you see the pack of wolves standing in front of the home.
The wolves are a variety of colors and sizes. You dare not move your head, but you scan them with your eyes, drinking in the different creatures. The only thing that they have in common is that they are freakishly large. 
Your wolf - for in your mind he’s yours - stands in front of you. He growls, hair on his spine raising as he regards the other wolves. There’s a silent standoff of sorts, the wolf you saved facing the others. You cannot understand their body language, but the air seems charged. 
The smell of smoke is in the air. You don’t dare look for the source, too afraid to do anything to disrupt the standoff. Breathing in deeply, you think you smell cedar. Oil. Something else that you can’t identify. 
Footsteps crunch the snow. You whip your head to the side, a warning on your tongue as Dr. Kim rounds the house, a haunted expression on his face. He stops abruptly, looking at the display in front of him behind frosted glasses. He says nothing - does nothing but glance between you, the wolf in front of you, and the others. 
Finally, one of the other wolves chuffs and shakes, dispelling snow. It has an all white coat and intense, dark eyes that look at you with… annoyance, if wolves can look annoyed. It turns to leave and the others follow - all five of them - as the white wolf leads them at a loping trot toward the silo and the woods beyond.
Your wolf turns to peer at you, ears flicking before it breaks off into a run, trailing after its pack to leave you and Dr. Kim standing in silence, watching them go. 
Slowly, you turn to Dr. Kim. He scrutinizes you, eyes squinted. “Where did you get that cloak?” 
You look down at the rich, red cloth. “I… well it just appeared, one day when I was younger. I don’t know.”
He regards you suspiciously. “I see. Come. We must leave right away.”
Dr. Kim begins walking at a fast pace back toward town, clutching his tool case. “Wait! Where are the Morrows?” 
Instead of answering, Dr. Kim continues on. You scramble after him, careful not to slip on the icy stairs. The wind picks up and you smell a fire again, making you turn back as you try to catch up. You almost stumble over your feet, eyebrows shooting up as you see orange flames consuming the barn. 
“Dr. Kim!”
Again, he says nothing. You stop and stare, watching as the fire eats away at the barn. The smoke burns black. Fueled by oil, you think. Looking over your shoulder, you watch Dr. Kim’s retreating back and wonder what exactly it is that he’s done. 
“Did you set that fire?” you demand, chasing him. He gives you a withering look. “What is going on?”
“Speak nothing of this,” he snaps. “We arrived here to make a housecall and discovered that the barn was on fire. We suspect that Mr. Marrow was burning to melt the snow around the barn and that the barn caught. The Marrow family died inside trying to put out the fire.”
“But the wolves-”
“Do not mention the wolves, girl.”
“Did they kill the Marrows?” His jaw works but he doesn’t answer. “Did they kill the Mathesons?” 
“This village has a complicated history,” he says finally. He pulls his coat tighter. “I don’t expect you to understand, but I do expect you to stay out of it. Say nothing of the wolves and stay away from them. You’ll make it through winter.”
-
Two weeks pass, the secret heavy on your tongue. You work with Dr. Kim as though nothing happened, and when people ask about the Marrow farm, you recite vague details. You don’t know why you do it but… the image of the wolf - your wolf - floats in your mind each time you spit out the lie. 
Thoughts plague you as Hoseok lounges on the porch of the office that belongs to Hoseok’s father, who acts as the town’s scribe and legal affairs recorder. A sudden warm day has brought everyone outdoors, lounging on their porches and trying to take advantage of the melting snow around the buildings. The streets are muddy and murky as kids run by, feet splashing. 
A group of men prowl around the outskirts of the village. Sun shines through the slats of the overhang in front of the inn, warming where you lean on the porch railing. Hoseok rattles on about gossip he’s heard from his mother’s tea parties and his father’s work on will and testaments with the growing fear of death in the village. 
“Plagues, serial killings, blood feuds and animal attacks,” Hoseok sighs, staring up at the ceiling where he lies. “Good for father’s business. Bad for my cramping hand trying to help him.” 
“Hmm,” you hum noncommittally, thoughts lost as you stare out into the street with unseeing eyes.
Shouts make you flinch. You stand rod straight, gripping the railing as you look for the source of the disruption. Hoseok stands up immediately, joining you at the railing as the pair of you lean to look toward the entrance to the town. 
At first, you think that it’s about another wolf attack. People rush into the street, looking toward the commotion. Then you see it. Gleeful cheers spring up to the buildings closest to the town’s entrance as the first few traders enter the road. Your heart soars when you see donkeys pulling a cart behind them, followed by more people carrying packs and towing small carts. 
“The traders!” You breathe, feeling a sigh of relief sweep through you. “They’ve made it!” 
Excitement ripples through the village. People come flocking from the buildings to welcome cart after cart full of people. Some traders tow full carriages with riders at the front, the shutters on their carriages tied shut, hiding their wares inside. 
Hoseok lounges back down, letting out a sigh of relief. You feel the same, leaning on the railing again to watch as the carts are towed down the road, pulling down different streets to set up shop and find accommodations. 
Most of the traders look vaguely familiar to you - you see the Robin’s with their cloth cart and Morty with his towering carriage of unusual wares and charms. The Yang twins set off small, popping fireworks from the back of their cart, making the children squeal. 
Something catches your eye. “There are more traders than usual,” you tell Hoseok, frowning as your eyes settle on the large men who walk among the carts, all of whom wear weapons belts and look from side to side as they walk. “I think they’re warriors, Hoseok.”
“Warriors?” he laughs. “Strange.”
“No really, there are several men with blades at the hip and bows on the back. They look… guarded.”
He tilts his head, eyeing where your eyes flit from person to person. “Perhaps the road is as hard as we suspected this year.” 
You hum in agreement, watching as the caravans stop and unload, the muddy streets filling with people and chatter and bubbling with excitement. It feels like the bubble of anxiety looming over the town has popped - at least temporarily - relieving the pressure that had been building with every passing day. 
Leaning against the rail, you’re content to observe. All manner of people and things are pulled from carts. Vendors start setting up right away, people forming lines for ingredients, cloth, and wares. The largest line of all is for weapons and metal tools, Old Man Heo barely has time to park his cart before the men of the village ask how much for iron arrowheads and blades. 
A shiver goes through you as your eyes sweep back toward the town entrance where more people pour in. Fewer caravans come through - now it’s just people with pack mules or bags over their shoulders. 
The hairs on your arm stand up when you see him. Wind lifts the edge of your cloak, making it flutter around you. You watch as he walks down the main street with the other travelers, eyes flicking around as he drinks in the buildings and the crowd of villagers coming to welcome the traders. 
As though he senses your staring, his head snaps to you. You feel frozen to the spot, your fingers tightening on the rail as you meet his eyes. They’re unfathomably dark and yet… a tingle of familiarity slithers up your spine. 
He stares at you in turn. You’re sure he’s looking at you, paused near the cart he stands next to, dark gaze focused on where you stand on the porch. 
You’ve never seen him.  You’re sure of it. You’d remember a handsome face like that anywhere. His long, dark hair is pushed back from his face, revealing a sharp jawline, a strong nose, and intense eyes. His lips are red from the cold - pretty against tan skin.
He’s tall. Taller than most men in the village and broad, with strong shoulders and thick arms, though it’s hard to tell underneath his tunic. Like the other hardy men accompanying traders, he has a weapons belt snug around his waist and the bulk of his frame implies that he knows how to use them. 
The man doesn’t break eye contact. His mouth begins to tilt in what you think might be the start of a smile when Hoseok sits up abruptly, startling you. You break eye contact, looking at Hoseok who bites into an apple, offering you one. 
“You frightened me,” you snap, a little irritated at being distracted. When you glance back up at the man, his attention is elsewhere. 
“What were you staring at anyway?” he asks, crunching bits of apple. 
“Nothing,” you murmur, eyes on the flexing back of the man as he helps unload a wagon near the inn. Something niggles at the back of your mind. I know you. “Nothing at all.” 
“Want to visit the vendors later when they’re all set up? I would love to get some spiced wine and listen to Marla’s stories tonight.”
“Yes,” you answer without hesitation. “Let’s do just that.” 
-
Every minute that passes by feels like an eternity. Incurable energy simmers under the surface as you wait for the day to fade to evening. You clean the entire house, you collect wood from outside, you dress and then change into something else, and you ultimately end up pacing back and forth in your room while you wait for Hoseok to arrive. 
Your thoughts are consumed by the mystery man you had seen earlier. His handsome face swims in your memory. The clear image of his face is accompanied by some feeling you cannot identify, something that almost feels like nostalgia. How can you feel nostalgia for someone you don’t know? 
Hoseok finally arrives, letting himself into your house cheerily. The brief respite from winter is already bleeding away, the wind carrying a painful promise as it lifts your hood outside. The traders, it seems, arrived at the perfect time, the cloudy sky promising snow in the morning once more. 
Energy sizzles in the air. It’s as though the momentary fear of the wolf attacks is momentarily forgotten with the arrival of the vendors and travelers. The noise echoes from every street, torches, and fires lighting up the alleyways and down as people hang lamps in the windows and carts string up tea lights. 
Though you’re nervous, you are temporarily distracted as Hoseok pulls you through a tangle of carts toward Sal’s Sweets. Your stomach grumbles when you catch the scent of melting sugar and sweet confections, joining the line at Hoseok’s side to pick up hot, sticky sweets. 
With hot, sweet rolls drizzled in honey in hand, you and Hoseok explore the vendor carts. It is an explosion of color and lights, glittering jewelry hanging from displays, hot meats sizzling in pants over fires, the flash of powder and light as the Yang twins set off more fireworks, and the smell of spices as you pass by herb carts and tents. 
Everywhere you go, you see the men from before, looming near carts with weapons and steely expressions. But not even the eerie sight of them can bring down the spirits of the villagers, kids running with new kites and jars full of fireflies. 
As you stand in line with Hoseok who wants new inkwells, you listen to passing chatter. From what you gather, it was a hard trip this way on the caravans this year. The winter was just as harsh on the road as it was in the village, and the traders' voices become quiet when they talk about thieves and monsters in the woods.
You exchange a glance with Hoseok and he nods. Wolves. 
Wordlessly, you wait as Hoseok points out the inks that he wants. You begin to crane your neck, looking for the familiar stranger that you had seen before. The square is crowded and packed tight with people, making it nearly impossible to make out much beyond a few feet in front of you.
You spot Dr. Kim walking next to Seokjin, both of their heads bowed as they speak to one another. You narrow your eyes, remembering the way Dr. Kim had silenced you at the Marrow farm. You watch them as they head toward the road that the veterinary practice is on, pausing as a man pushes off the wall to join them.
It’s him you realize. You recognize the broad shoulders and the dark hair as he turns his back to you, walking with the Kims down the road. You don’t even have to think twice.
“Hey,” you tug Hoseok’s sleeve. “I’m going to go see Dr. Kim about something really quick. I’ll meet you at the inn?”
“Sure.” He frowns. “Is it safe to go alone?”
“With all of these people?” You’re already backing away and shrugging. “Definitely.” 
Without waiting for Hoseok to respond, you turn on your heel and rush into the crowd. The bodies of people immediately swallow you. The sound and sights and smells become a blur as you push through the crowd, shouldering people aside. You get some nasty looks from the force at which you move, but they immediately forget you as more people press in.
Less people pass you by as you walk up the street, pulling your cloak in tight. The lights in front of the building are off. You creep up the stairs and try the handle, finding it locked. It doesn’t matter, you sneak around the back of the building to the rear entrance and press your ear to the door. When you hear nothing, you try the handle and it twists.
Victorious, you open the door and slide through. The hallway is narrow with four doors on the right leading to examination rooms and two doors on the left. The first door leads to the kennel area where you hear voices. The second leads to the front lobby and desk.
The front lobby is the safest option, lest you get caught eavesdropping in the hallway when they leave. Carefully, you creep by the door, holding your breath and praying the floor doesn’t creak. Your heart pounds as you inch past the door, hearing deep voices on the other side as you go by. 
Clearing the door, you hurry into the lobby and to the door behind the desk that leads to the kennels. Crouching down low to hide yourself from anyone walking by the windows, you carefully pull the door open, unwilling to open it any further than the width of your index finger. Pressing your ear to the open gap, you listen.
“We talked about discretion,” Dr. Kim says, his voice frustrated. “This isn’t discretion. This is harassment and fear-mongering.”
“I told you,” a deep, smooth voice answers. You assume it must belong to the stranger and you shiver, eyes fluttering as the sound of it washes over you. “It isn’t my decision to make. I do not lead. Yoongi made it very clear how he wishes to proceed.” 
“Yoongi is a lunatic.”
“He’s the alpha.”
You frown. Alpha? You’re familiar with the concept of alphas in packs of dogs and herding animals, but you don’t know what that has to do with people or who Yoongi is. 
“The hunts will begin tomorrow.”
You think Dr. Kim means the hunting for the wolves. It makes sense now that the traders are in town and they can stock up on weapons. 
“As is the way of things,” the stranger answers with a sigh. “You know why Yoongi has chosen this path.”
“Is revenge worth it?”
“Perhaps your kind do not understand.” The stranger’s voice hardens. You wonder what he means by your kind. “You have one foot in the forest, one in the village.” 
“We understand, but we’re also not reckless.” Charged quiet hangs in the air. You hold your breath, your heart thundering in your chest, waiting for the sound of footsteps at the end of a conversation. “Why are you here, Namjoon? You came alone.”
Namjoon. The name washes over you, a warm feeling like the first spray of summer rain. It must be the stranger's name. 
Namjoon answers, “There is… a protected here. But I still fear for them. Yoongi and the others are angry - I wish to further keep them from harm.”
A frown twists your mouth. This Namjoon is here to protect someone from Yoongi. You wonder what this has to do with Dr. Kim. Could… Perhaps someone is using the wolves as tools? You’ve certainly seen a hunter train wolves or wolfhounds before, though it’s a dangerous business. 
Dr. Kim sighs. “That is the only saving grace of you being here, I’m afraid. Seokjin and I cannot help you. Not without exposing ourselves. I’ve already done what I can.”
“You have my greatest thanks for that. You and yours will always be safe. And not just because of your blood.”
Shuffling makes you lean away from the door immediately. You slowly drop it back in place before crawling over to the desk and hiding under it, straining your hearing as the footsteps go into the back hall and out of the back door. You remain there long after you hear the back door shut, waiting just in case they’re still outside.
When you’re sure they’ve gone, you crawl out from underneath the desk and hurry into the hall and out the back door. The alley is empty when you stick your head out, sagging with relief. You hurry out and close the door behind you, spinning around and-
“You know, most people who don’t want to be seen don’t sneak around in a red cloak.”
The man - Namjoon - looms over you, looking down at you with an amused expression. Your scream is cut off when he winces and cups your mouth with his hand. “Well don’t scream! You’ll summon Giho and Seokjin back this way. I didn’t mean to frighten you.”
Namjoon waits for a moment, your chest heaving as you nod, signifying that you won’t scream for help. Maybe it’s silly, but you trust him not to hurt you. At the least, he is there to protect someone in the village, so he doesn’t seem like he’s there for nefarious reasons.
When he drops his hands, you press yourself against the door, trying to put a little distance between you. Namjoon’s presence is demanding, a tickle prickling at the base of your spine as you look up at him, mystified. 
He’s so beautiful. Up close, you can make out his features far better than earlier that day. His eyes are dark and framed by beautiful, silken lashes. His nose is broad and his jaw is sharp. A dimple appears when he gives you a lopsided grin, dark eyes sizing you up.
The same sense of familiarity from earlier comes back to you, and though you’ve never seen his face before, you swear you know him. Warmth radiates from him, the delicate smell of pine and bergamot reaching you. He feels like… yours. Like some part of him completes you. It is the strangest feeling. 
“You okay, Red?” he asks, tone earnest. You furrow your brows at the term and he grins - genuine and warm. “Your cloak. It’s a very bright red. Pretty, though.”
“Thank you?”
He raises a brow. “Are you asking me?”
“I’m… you’re awfully close.”
Namjoon takes a few steps back from you. You suddenly regret saying something as his warmth vanishes, replaced by the cool wind. “Sorry,” he says, scratching the back of his neck awkwardly. “Didn’t mean to freak you out.”
“Why didn’t you alert Dr. Kim if you knew I was snooping.”
“You don’t seem to be a threat. Plus, he’s a bit of a grouch. It didn’t seem worth it to hear him chastise a pretty girl.”
You flush. “How do you know the Kims?”
“Family friends.” 
“What were you all talking about?”
He cocks his head to the side. “Just because I’m not chastising you for listening to our private conversation doesn’t mean I’m going to divulge the details of said private conversation.”
You divert your gaze, feeling flushed. He has a point, but if he’s put out by your line of questioning or your eavesdropping, he doesn’t show it. “Come on,” Namjoon says. “Let’s go back to the square. I need a drink and it’s dangerous to walk around right now.”
“Because of the wolves?”
He stares at you. “Because it’s dark and there are a bunch of strangers in your town, and you’re a woman alone. In the dark.”
“You’re a stranger in my town.”
His grin spreads and his dimple deepens. Your stomach flutters. You’re not unaffected by him, a little dizzy and nervous when he sticks out a hand. “Namjoon. I’m a part of the Kim family.”
“Like… Dr. Kim?” you ask, reaching out your hand and giving him your name.
“We’re related, in a way. Pretty name. I think I’ll stick with Red, though.”
Namjoon takes off walking. For a second, you just stand and stare at him. He shoves his hands in his pockets and doesn’t look back. You lick your lips, heart pounding. You cannot shake the sense of something peculiar about him, something familiar. He’s a Kim - perhaps you know him.
Determined to find out, you take off after him, scurrying to catch up. You fall into step with him and look up to find him smirking down at you before focusing back on the growing noise and lights of the main square. 
“Have you been here before?” you ask, watching him from the corner of your eye. He shakes his head and you frown. “I feel like I know you.”
“Perhaps I have one of those faces?”
“No, I’d remember a face like yours.”
Namjoon turns to you, arching a brow. “A face like mine, huh?” 
Multiple fire pits dot the streets, groups of people clustered around them to keep warm as the chill seeps back into the village. The inn is bustling with people, the door propped open with a chair as people walk in and out with platters of food and tankards in hand. Multiple villagers have pulled out tables and chairs from their homes, setting them up in the street. 
It feels good. The air hums with euphoria and the promise of better days ahead, like suddenly there are not several families mourning their loved ones. The atmosphere reminds you of a festival, and you suppose it kind of is a festival. 
The smell of burning fat and ale hits your nose as you walk into the inn. Voices roar over one another and the workers are busy behind the bar. A fireplace crackles in the far corner where you spot Hoseok guarding an extra chair. 
“I fear this is where we part ways,” Namjoon announces over the din of voices. “Try not to do any more eavesdropping tonight.” You hesitate, wanting to protest. There are a million burning questions you have for him. He must see it in your face, because he smiles and says, “We’ll run into one another again. Don’t worry.”
“I wasn’t worried.”
You were actually, and you know he knows by his smirk. “Goodnight, Red.”
You watch Namjoon go. He moves toward where the innkeeper stands at a podium looking over reservations, blending into the crowd. Just before he reaches the podium he glances over his shoulder at you, catching you watching. He shoots you a grin and you scowl, pivoting on your heel to charge toward Hoseok. 
Hoseok raises his eyebrows when he sees you storm over to him and yank the chair out from the table, sitting down in a huff. Without a word, you snatch his tankard of ale and take several, cold gulps before setting it on the table, letting it wash through you. 
“Who was that you came in with? And then stormed over here after speaking to?”
“Some relative of the Kims,” you mutter. “I find him very… frustrating.”
“He’s very handsome.”
You glare at Hoseok and see the beginning of a wicked smile. “And frustrating.” 
He lifts his cup, shrugging. “Cheers to being frustrating.”
-
A scream wakes you up in the middle of the night. You lurch up from bed, head spinning as you try to gather your wits about you. Blankets tangle your limbs as you try to peel them from sweaty skin. Another scream makes you stumble out of bed, the world tilting on its axis as your body tries to catch up with your sudden lucidity. 
In the main room of your home, your mother is stumbling through the kitchen too, lighting a candle and grabbing a holder. You feel relief as you realize the screaming isn’t coming from your home, but your neighbor’s.
Together, you and your mother rush out into the cold in nightgowns, not bothering with shoes or coats. The cold is bitter, immediately stinging your skin as the Liang family joins you in running to the Hutch family home where it sounds like Mrs. Hutch is screaming like a wild animal in her house. 
“It’s Leanne,” your mother breathes, words turning to steam in the air. 
“Come on,” you urge, pulling your mother as you go, driven by the shrieks.
The front door hangs open as Mr. Liang enters the home first, an ax in hand. It occurs to you that neither you nor your mother have weapons, but Mrs. Hutch has always been kind to your mother, making the both of you charge into the darkness of her home empty-handed.
A metallic tang hits you immediately. You recoil, recognizing the stench of blood immediately. Villagers spill into the home behind you, alerted to the wailing coming from the bedroom. With torches and candles in hand, you spot the red on the dark wood floor in the hallway. 
Mr. Liang stands in the doorway of the bedroom, staring with a haunted gaze at what he sees there. Your mother pushes through the people in the home to look over his shoulder, her hand flying to her mouth as she gasps. 
“Oh Leanne,” she murmurs in horror, shoving by Mr. Liang.
You don’t go to the room. The smell and the weeping coming from the bedroom give you an inkling of what lay inside. You stand in the living room as people fill the hall, gasping and murmuring. Someone shouts to wake the constable. 
“Why?” Mrs. Hutch screams in her room, the despair in her voice rattling your bones. “Why?”
“His throat has been cut,” someone murmurs from the hall. “Murdered in bed.” 
Murdered? That throws you for a loop. You had assumed somehow it was an animal attack but… you shiver. Murder is different. 
Mr. Liang begins shooing people out of the house. You slink out into the cold and hurry to your own home, bare feet freezing in the cold, wet earth. Your mother stays with Mrs. Hutch, leaving you alone.
The dark presses in on you, every creak of a floorboard making you jump. The shadows seem menacing now and you’re quick to find and light a candle, orange light flooding the home. 
Cloth and candle in hand, you return to your room to wipe the cold mud from your feet, skin still burning from the frigid air. Voices carry in from outside, the entire town waking and gathering as the shock of murder ripples through the streets, a stone in a pond.
With sleep nowhere near possible for the remainder of the night, you get dressed. You pull on thick woolen pants, a tunic, and multiple socks, sticking your feet in your boots. Your cloak goes next, fastening it around your throat as you look out your bedroom window. 
Your home sits at an angle in a row of houses that circle the village like a ring. You can see the wall of the home next to you, and a sliver of the backyard as well. It’s that tiny space in the backyard that catches your eye, watching as someone moves from the edge of the home out of sight. 
Heart in your throat, you grab a candle and run outside. The crowd in front of the Hutch’s has grown, but you ignore them, skirting around your house to the alleyway between you and your neighbor. Nothing catches your eye as you run to the backyard, swiveling as you search in the darkness for the shadow you saw. 
The wind howls, drowning out the voices in the street. The treeline behind the houses is dark. You squint your eyes and lift the candle in your hand, the flame barely flickering as the wind makes the trees sway. There is nothing in the darkness and you begin to turn when you see a shadow in the tree line. 
It’s barely there - perhaps a trick of the light, even. You take a step forward, boots crunching in the snow. A gust of wind makes your cloak snap at your ankles, candle going out and leaving you without a source of light. You had not realized how dark it was without it, the shadow vanishing from your line of sight. 
Fear nestles in the pit of your stomach. Your breath gets stuck in your lungs as your limbs lock, realizing how stupid it was to come outside if there was a killer among the trees. Soft snow crunches somewhere close to you. You squeeze your eyes shut, tucking your chin to your chest as panic makes you shut down, unable to move and-
“Red.”
Namjoon’s voice makes you spin around. He holds a torch level with his head, the flame casting an eerie glow on his face. For a moment, he looks lupine and terrifying, your heart nearly stuttering to a halt. 
Then his face twists in concern. “What are you doing out here alone?”
“What are you doing?”
“Dr. Kim sent me over to check on you. No one answered the door so I came around back.”
“Why?”
Namjoon seems confused. “Why did I come around back or why did he send me?”
“Both.”
“I could see the light of your candle and because a murder has just happened.”
You relax a little at the logic in his answer. Snow begins to fall from the sky. You look up at the moonless black,  thick clouds floating as the bits of snow drift on the breeze. You shiver and look back to the trees, seeing nothing but tightly packed pines. Still, there is an instinctual sense of trepidation that sits heavy in your gut.
“Come on,” Namjoon says gently. “Let’s go inside. I’ll wait with you until your mother comes home.” 
Reluctantly, you follow Namjoon. Eyeing him, you realize he is dressed differently than previously that night. Now, he’s in black breeches and a black linen shirt. The weapons belt is gone and he’s without a coat. 
You frown. “Aren’t you freezing?”
“I run warm.”
It’s the only answer that he gives you as you walk back into the street which is filled with people and torches. In the distance, you hear the baying of hounds. It chills you, goosebumps exploding up and down your arms as you watch a cluster of firelights gather far off down the road. 
“The constable is leading a manhunt. They’ll come to question us too.” 
Wordlessly you gesture for Namjoon to join you inside of your home. He closes the door firmly behind you and strides to the fireplace, using the torch to coax the simmering logs to a full flame. Cedar pops as he adds the torch to the fire, orange embers drifting up the chimney. 
Rubbing your hands together, you offer him tea and he accepts with a soft smile. It doesn’t meet his eyes as he looks around the only place you’ve ever called home. Suddenly shy of your less-than-luxurious surroundings, you clear your throat and gesture to one of the mismatched armchairs by the fire as you grab a kettle.
Namjoon hardly fits in the chair. You press your lips to keep from laughing, which feels inappropriate with a man dead just a few yards away. With careful hands, you hang the kettle next to the fire, the flame close enough to heat the water as you scurry back to the kitchen and fill tea bags with herbs. 
“What kind of tea do you like?”
“Yarrow, if you have it.”
“I do.” You grab the jar, popping the top. “Are you in great pain, Mr. Kim?”
“Call me Namjoon. Mr. Kim feels far too formal.”
“Well, we are strangers, after all.”
Namjoon certainly doesn’t feel like a stranger. You cast him a sidelong glance as you say it, looking for his reaction. He turns his head from the fire, meeting your gaze head-on. His lips curve in a secret smile, making your nerves dance.
“I suppose that’s true.”
Is it? You wonder. You’re not so sure. 
Instead of asking him, you bring the mugs with bags of tea over to where he sits, handing him one. Steam rises from the spout of the teapot. With a thick towel, you lift it off of the hanger. Namjoon holds out his cup and lets you pour carefully into his mug, the smell of yarrow and mint wafting toward you. After pouring your own cup, you set the kettle down and sit across from him.
Your cold hands leech the warmth from the mug. You settle comfortably in the chair, relaxing and inhaling the chamomile in your cup. After a few moments of silence, you realize how comfortable and safe you feel with Namjoon, though you’ve only known him for a few short hours. 
“Why have you come to the village?” 
Namjoon watches the fire as he answers, “You were eavesdropping at the veterinary office. I’m sure you heard me.” You look down at your steaming cup and Namjoon chuckles, raspy and deep. It’s a nice sound.
“You said there was a ‘protected’ here. And something about a Yoongi.”
Namjoon’s face darkens at the mention of Yoongi. You chew on your lip, worried you’ve pushed him too far before you’ve even started to ask him real questions. His jaw works as he contemplates what you’ve said, sipping the tea a little. 
“A protected just means someone under protection by my family,” Namjoon says finally. “My extended family is… large. We are a very close group and we consider those in our community blood.”
“It is… not always like that here.”
“Your mother assists Mrs. Hutch, though. That seems like family, in a way.”
“Mrs. Hutch is kind. Not everyone is.” 
Namjoon nods. “It is not like that where I am from. We bear the sins of our neighbors and we share the responsibility of keeping everyone safe.”
“That must be nice.” You sip your tea and scald your tongue, hissing and setting the cup down. Namjoon leans forward as though to help you, alarm on his face. “Tea is too hot. I don’t know how you drink it.”
He smiles and shrugs. “I run warm.” 
“So you said. How are you related to Dr. Kim?” 
“He’s my uncle. He’s my father’s brother. His wife was best friends with my mom.” 
“Oh.” You blink in surprise. “She passed away when I was very young. She… died the same winter as my father.”
“I’m sorry to hear that.” Namjoon frowns and cocks his head. “What did your father do?” 
“He was a hunter.”
One of the logs pops in the fireplace, making you flinch. You give a nervous laugh and glance at Namjoon, who has gone stone-still. The firelight dances on his face as he peers at you. Your smile falters a little at the gravity you find there. 
“He only hunted fowl and deer,” you find yourself explaining. You don’t know why you say it, only that suddenly that feels important. “He didn’t like to hunt bigger game or predators. Mother says that he believed they were best left alone and that a true hunter knows his betters when he sees them.”
Namjoon hums. “Smart man.”
“I don’t know. He died in an animal attack when I was very young.” 
“You must resent the woods.”
“Not at all. I think…” You bite your bottom lip, trying to find the right words. “I think that he wouldn’t blame the animals. The woods are their home. My mother says he was always very adamant about that. They don’t usually attack villagers, though.”
“Usually?”
“There are animal attacks happening. I’m sure Dr. Kim told you…?”
“Ah, yes. You think they’re without reason?”
“Perhaps hunger? I don’t know. It does not happen often.” 
“Wolves are not known to hunt people.” Namjoon’s fingers drum against his mug, a steady tap. He seems thoughtful as he regards you. “They’re intelligent creatures and their packs are important to them. They take the threat to their land and their family seriously.” 
“Like your family?”
He laughs. “Like my family.” Namjoon sips his tea again. “This land used to belong to several packs of wolves, you know?”
“Really?”
“Yes, until settlers drove them out. Not that long ago there were hunting parties for sport. They slaughtered entire packs, destroying bloodlines and nearly wiping out the wolves here entirely.”
“I always found that incredibly sad.”
“Why is that?”
“They’re incredibly important to the ecosystem here. And I guess I always agreed with my dad. I don’t remember him much, but I like to remember that he was good at heart.”
Namjoon hums but says nothing else. You sit in silence for a while, enjoying the warmth of the fire. Namjoon’s presence is steady, keeping out the cold and the fear just beyond the door. You wonder how he does that by just sitting in a chair, or how it feels so natural. 
Outside, the world begins to turn gray. You yawn as exhaustion begins to set in and you feel yourself sagging. Eyes burning, you rub them with the back of your hands, blinking a few times to fight the explosion of colors in your vision. 
“You can sleep,” Namjoon says softly from where he sits. You glance at him. “You can trust me.”
A hint of pine and bergamot drift toward you, making you drowsy. Namjoon grabs a blanket from the back of his chair and stands up, bringing it to you. He takes your mug and you watch him with sleepy, round eyes as he places the blanket over you.
“Sleep.” His voice is soft, distant. “I will be here.”
Your eyes flutter shut and you drift to sleep, remembering the warm sound of his voice. It… reminds you of your wolf.
-
Gentle voices pull you from the clutches of sleep. You wake slowly, a cramp in your neck making you reluctant to get up. You smell the fire and the hint of pine and bergamot. You hear a low, raspy voice that you instantly recognize as Namjoon. 
How swiftly I know his voice, you think. 
“You must wake her,” a male voice says. You recognize it as Dr. Kim. “The constable is coming for questioning.”
“She’s already awake,” Namjoon answers, a smile in his voice. Your eyes snap open at being caught, meeting his dark gaze as he smirks from near your door. “See?”
You scowl at him. How did he know that? Sitting up and stretching, you appraise the two men lurking near your door. “Is my mother still with Mrs. Hutch?”
Dr. Kim nods and steps swiftly into the room around Namjoon. Namjoon reaches out a hand, catching Dr. Kim with his arm and stopping him from entering the room properly. You watch in puzzlement as there’s a silent exchange between the two of them, Namjoon’s face dark as Dr. Kim raises a brow. 
Then, Namjoon lets him go. You cock your head to the side, wondering what that’s about. Ignoring Namjoon, Dr. Kim approaches and says, “The constable will be here shortly. Say nothing about the farm.”
The farm. The memory of the wolves brings a chill to your arm, the smell of smoke and burning oil. The confusion and Dr. Kim’s refusal to answer your questions. 
“What is going on?” you demand, eyes flickering from Dr. Kim to Namjoon. “Animal attacks, murders, you covering up something at the barn. I’m being lied to.” 
“Say nothing about the farm,” Dr. Kim says again, voice firm. Namjoon makes a noise that startles you. It’s almost like a growl, your eyes going wide as he glares at Dr. Kim. “I told you this village has a complicated history. I’m looking after your safety.” 
Heavy footsteps sound on the porch. There’s a loud knock on the door, the constable announcing his presence on the other side. Namjoon opens the door for him, standing back to let him in. The constable looks him up and down with confusion before looking at you, a question in his eyes.
“They came to check on me,” you offer. The constable has known you since you were a child, it’s no wonder he’s confused at the presence of a stranger in your home. “How can I help you, constable?”
“I’d like you to answer a few questions about last night. Mr. Liang confirmed you were one of the first people to Hutch’s last night.”
Dr. Kim walks to your kitchen and busies himself making tea. Namjoon moves to sit in the chair across from you, his warm presence from the night before replaced with something mildly threatening. You cut him a look but his dark eyes are focused on the constable as though he’s a threat. 
The questions are easy enough. When did you wake up? Did you notice anyone around your home when you came home? Did you notice anyone outside? When did you come home? 
You leave out running into Namjoon behind your home. You don’t know why, but you feel the need to not draw attention to him. You also leave out the strange incident at the farm, glancing sideways at Dr. Kim when he brings you lemon tea. 
When the constable is finished, he eyes Dr. Kim. “Be at the station at four,” he instructs. “We’re splitting hunting parties. One to look for the culprit, the other to get rid of the damn wolves.” 
“The wolves were there first, you know?” Namjoon speaks up, looking at you and not the constable. “Have you ever tried figuring out what they want?”
“And who the hell are you?”
“Please ignore my nephew, constable. He likes to insert himself in conversations he doesn’t belong in. Come, let’s look over the hounds before you send them out tonight.”
Together, the constable and Dr. Kim shuffle out. Before he shuts the door, Dr. Kim levels the pair of you with a heavy gaze. You don’t know what that gaze means, but you know that something is going on in this village and that he and Namjoon seem to have some idea about it.
As soon as the door shuts, you turn to Namjoon and demand, “What is going on?”
He sighs. “Would you listen if I just said to wait it out?”
“Do you know who murdered Mr. Hatch?” 
Namjoon hesitates and shakes his head. You narrow your eyes, unbelieving. “I really don’t know who did, Red.”
“Why are you really here? Why all the secrets?” 
“I told you, my family protects those who belong to their community.”
“What did you mean about asking what the wolves want?” 
“I told you last night. There were wolves long before this village existed. Seems to me that if the wolves are suddenly killing the townspeople, perhaps it’s because they want their land back. Or maybe they’re angry from years of being hunted.”
That shuts you up. You can’t argue with that, exactly. But… “Are you saying that the wolves are capable of revenge?”
Namjoon stands and gestures to your cloak. “How often do you wear that?”
“Every day. It’s… sentimental to me.”
His eyes lighten and he offers a half smile. “Good. Red is a lucky color.”
“Where are you going?”
He opens the door, cold wind hissing past the opening. “Your mom is coming. I’ll see you later, Red.”
Without another word, Namjoon slips through the door and shuts it firmly behind him. You stare after him, openmouthed and confused. As promised, you hear your mother come up the steps, light feet scuffing before she quickly lets herself in, shutting the door firmly behind her.
You offer to make your mother breakfast, happy to help as she dozes in the chair. It isn’t until later that you wonder how Namjoon had heard her coming at all.
-
Little Lucy Larkin
In a little wood
Little Lucy Larkin
Up to no good
Little Lucy Larkin
In her little hood
Little Lucy Larkin
Ware of the woods!
Little Lucy Larkin
Stole a little bread
Little Lucy Larkin
In the woods of dread
Little Lucy Larkin
Is a little thief
Little Lucy Larkin
Die by wolf’s teeth
A sense of unease slithers up your spine as you pull your cloak closer. The voice of the children playing the Little Lucy Game echoes down the street and you pause to watch as the little boy playing Lucy steals the rock from the middle of the circle and the little boy playing the wolf gets up to chase him. 
The other kids scream and giggle as the boys give chase, the sound of their laughter eerie in the cold gray of twilight. Shaking it off, you turn and duck your head as you walk up the steps to the Tall Tales Inn. 
Warmth and the scent of food greet you. It’s a thinner crowd than the day before but still more people than you’re used to without the traders in town. There is a clear divide in the dining room with traders on one side and townsfolk on the other, the murder quick to make the locals distrust the new people in their streets.
Tense conversations hum in the gold light. You navigate around tables until you find Hoseok sitting with Seokjin. The sight of Seokjin gives you pause. He seems to sense your presence, glancing up and meeting your questioning stare. He gives no reaction, though, turning his attention back to Hoseok who is murmuring quietly.
“I didn’t expect to see you here, Jin,” you say by way of greeting. Hoseok gives you a look at your clipped tone. You ignore it, sitting down and leveling the older man with a stare, his father’s mysteriousness weighing on you. “To what do we owe the pleasure?”
He narrows his eyes a fraction. “Just enjoying the company of friends.”
“Shouldn’t you be helping the constable?”
“I’m on the late-night shift.” 
Grinding your teeth, you sit roughly. Hoseok just watches you, brows raised. You say nothing as you order a drink and a meal, picking at the splinters of the tabletop, eyeing Seokjin. If he’s put out by your rudeness he doesn’t show it, drinking heartily from his tankard and watching you with dark, even eyes. 
You know Seokjin knows whatever it is his father and Namjoon have been talking about. You yourself have not been able to work out what’s going on in the village, but you’re sure the Kims know. And if Dr. Kim asked you to lie to the constable… well perhaps Seokjin is leading him astray as well.
Hoseok pipes up, steering the conversation everywhere he can to avoid the tension building between you and Seokjin and the topics of murders. You participate as little as possible, mind trying to put together the puzzle pieces of the blooming mystery in your home. 
An uncomfortable thought starts to take root in your mind. Is it possible that the Kim family is behind the murders? Dr. Kim has plenty of weapons at his disposal, and they had been talking about revenge, and Dr. Kim had covered up what happened at the Marrow’s farm… but what did that have to do with wolves?
You’re not sure. But you do know that the Kims are purposefully hiding things, that there is a murderer somewhere in the town or near it, and that there is a sense of doom that you cannot shake, a dark itch like stinging nettle in your bones. 
Seokjin excuses himself to take an afternoon nap before his hunting party heads out for the evening. Your eyes track him as he goes. Seokjin certainly doesn’t seem evil, but there’s no telling what’s behind his pretty face. 
“What is wrong with you?” Hoseok asks, leaning over the table and whispering harshly. “You’re behaving rather odd.”
“Something is going on.”
“Yes, your attitude.”
You turn and glare at him. “No, Hobi. Something is going on with the Kim family. I don’t know how to explain it.” You grip your cup tighter. “But I intend to figure it out.” 
Hoseok questions you about what that means. You keep your answers vague, not wanting to rope him into your plan. Too often as children did you lure Hoseok into trouble, and with how dangerous night is becoming in your town, you know it’s a bad idea to endanger him too.
T sun sets over the village. You stand at your bedroom window, watching through the frosty window as the sun turns the sky into a smear of blood. The clouds have cleared away just for this sanguine sunset. It makes your stomach turn, a sense of foreboding heavy in the air.
Still, it doesn’t deter you. Red fades to gray-blue and gray-blue fades to black. Wind rattles the glass in the window pane. Turning from the window, you find your thickest pair of pants and fur-lined tunic. The fabric feels scratchy on your skin.
Dressed, you look at your red cloak folded on the bed. Any other night you would take it with you. It has become your safety net, something that keeps you warm and keeps you safe. You cannot recall a day you haven’t worn it since it mysteriously showed up thirteen years ago, but tonight, you need obscurity.
Instead, you reach for an old, thick cloak that used to belong to your father. It's dark brown and worn at the edges, a little too big for you as the hem brushes the ground. It will serve its purpose in keeping you hidden in the dark of the woods, though. 
All you grab is a hunting knife that you don’t know how to use, a wax candle, and a solid piece of flint and sharp rock to light it with. The candle and flint are for emergencies only. You hope it won’t be so dark that you cannot see, but you’re unsure what the clouds are going to do.
Outside, the wind is sharp. Your nostrils burn as you breathe it in and duck away behind your house. No new snow has fallen during the day, which is a good thing. You don’t have to worry about dragging your boots and tiring your calves. It also helps that the sky is clear tonight, the moon a sliver of sharp light. 
Baying hounds echo through the village and the forest as the hunting dogs lead the men into the woods. You’re quick on your feet, dashing into the woods and heading north. You don’t want to run right into the hunting party, but you do want to find their burning torches and keep them in your line of sight.
They are easy to find, hovering like orange fireflies in the distance. Careful to make your way in the dark, you follow them. Your breath mists in front of you, hands shaking more from the adrenaline than the cold. 
The torches spread out. You chew on your lip, unsure which group would belong to Seokjin. You take a gamble, heading after the group closest to you. 
Everything feels too loud. Each snap of a branch under your foot and crunch of dry leaves feels like it’s going to give you away. Still, you’re good at sneaking for the most part, having spent plenty of time skulking through the village to take nightly strolls in the woods.
Voices carry to you. Through a system of running a few steps forward and dodging behind a tree, you manage to follow the men at a distance. You think that you hear the constable’s voice, which is a good sign. If he’s around, perhaps Seokjin is too.
The deeper you go into the forest, the colder it gets. The ground beneath your feet slopes. The evergreens are packed tighter here, needles tickling your hands as you keep your hands held out from your sides as you slide downward.
This is near where I saved that wolf, you think. 
It’s true. You recognize the slope of the land and the general area. You cannot tell if it’s exactly where you met the wolf, but it’s close enough that your senses tingle and your eyes sweep the land, expecting something to happen.
A sense of foreboding trails you as the men move deeper into the wood. You turn around and look for the other torches and see nothing but a dark, compact forest. Your stomach flips uncomfortably but you continue, unsure now if it’s safer to turn back or to keep going. 
Ahead, the group of men decide to take a break. The hounds sniff the area around them, pulling at the leashes as they go. Crouching low, you watch as the hounds go in circles, following the scent of something that seems to confuse them. 
The men take long droughts of water, making you wish you’d thought of that. Mouth dry and hands cold, you huddle against a tree, bark digging into your back. 
A few minutes pace by. You close your eyes, resting your head against the tree, breathing cold air in deeply. You don’t know what you expect the group to lead you to, only that you-
Something snaps behind you. Your eyes fly open and your limbs lock. Heart beating like a steady drum, you hold your breath and strain your eyes. For a moment, there’s nothing but the dim voices of the men taking a break. You think it’s nothing until you hear something again, a gentle susurration of leaves. 
One of the hounds lifts its head, ears twitching. Your eyes scan the surrounding area back and forth, searching for what you know is there. 
It happens so fast that you don’t even see the wolves enter the ring of torchlight until they’re there, snarls rattling the trees. You clamp your hands over your mouth to mute your gasp as the sounds of screams and tearing flesh explode in the night. Hounds screech, their growls savage and choked as the wolves descend. 
You don’t know how many there are. Torch lights go down and drown you in darkness. Squeezing your eyes shut, you curl in on yourself, panting through your hands as the sounds echo in your ears. A new fear has stabbed its way between your ribs, making it hard to breathe. 
Time moves slowly. Or quickly. You cannot tell which. One moment the sounds of a nightmare turned real are just a few hundred yards away. The next, an eerie silence blankets the dark forest. 
You don’t want to open your eyes, but you have to. Very slowly, you crack an eye open. At first, there’s nothing. Your vision swims with flashing colors, your eyes trying to adjust. Then, there is the vague outline of trees. Ahead of you, where the men had been, lay shadowed piles. 
Shaking, you glance around. You see nothing - hear nothing. You stand slowly. Each inch you gain feels like you’re being too loud. Sweat gathers on the back of your neck. The cool air makes it feel like an icy finger brushing down your nape. 
When you’re sure that there’s nothing else around, you take a step toward where the attack happened. Leaves crunch beneath your feet. You stop breathing, waiting for signs of anything. Nothing happens and you let out a trembling breath, taking one more step. Again, you wait to see if your footfalls will trigger something. 
You repeat this to the edge of the slaughter - for that’s what it is. A slaughter. Bile rises in your throat as you reach the first body and stamped-out torch. The constable and his hound lay in tatters, only recognizable by the batch on his cloak. 
It is carnage. You don’t dare breathe through your nose for fear of breathing in the scent of death, circling the scene with weak knees, hand pressed to your mouth to keep in the whimpers. You see the faces of men you’ve known since you were a child. Ripped, bloodied, gored. 
Finally, you lean over and empty the contents of your stomach. It burns on the way up, choking you. Pressing a hand against a tree, you breathe raggedly. The adrenaline coursing through you makes you twitchy and unstable, each nerve feeling like it’s on fire. 
Leaves crunch a few feet away. Your head snaps in and you zero in on the source of the noise, mouth hanging open when you see Seokjin standing amongst the trees. He stares at you, frown on his face. 
“Who are you?” he asks, voice gentle. You realize he can’t see your face under the cowl of your hood and you’re not in your traditional red. He sighs. “Doesn’t matter.” 
You hear shuffling behind him before you see a white wolf. The white wolf from the Marrow farm. There are others, then. You don’t know how you missed them, the darkness of their fur blending in with the darkness around them.
The white one is spotted in red, muzzle matted, teeth slicked. Your stomach lurches. It isn’t hard to guess where it’s from. You take a step back and the wolf growls, lips pulled back. You freeze, looking amongst the pack of wolves that fan out around Seokjin, desperately looking for your wolf with the kind, intelligent eyes. 
You do not find him there. 
With a growl, the white wolf steps forward. Your instincts kick in and you turn and run, letting out a wild shriek as you do so. If Seokjin recognizes your voice when you scream, you cannot tell. The wolves are after you and you’re barreling through the trees with no hope of outrunning them, especially uphill.
A wolf nips at your ankle and you scream, tripping over your feet in your terror and going down hard. You’re jarred as you hit the ground, bones rattling as pain shoots up your limbs from the impact. Before you can scramble, there are teeth around your ankle, not biting down hard enough to snap, but hard enough to drag.
Your scream is wretched even to your ears. It is a curdling, nightmarish sound. You feel the scrape of leaves and sticks against your skin, cloak picking up dirt and twigs as you go. Your nails dig into the ground but the soil is frozen solid, fingers scraping bluntly against it. 
With a surge of self-preservation, you kick your free leg backward as hard as you can. You hit the wolf in the muzzle, making it cry, and let go of your foot. You manage to crawl to your knees, slipping in the foliage as you try to stand before it’s tearing at your cloak, determined to drag you one way or another. 
Sliding again as it drags you by the cloak, you try to undo the ties at your throat with shaking fingers. It comes away and frees you from the hellish drag to your death. This time, you’re faster to your feet, turning and running in the opposite direction. You don’t know where you’re going, just that you want to get away. 
Your foot slides on the incline and with a shout you go down. This time, your head hits the ground hard. Your ears ring and your vision pulses. Blinking, you roll over and stare up at the canopy of dark trees. The world spins dangerously and you feel nausea churn deep in your stomach.
“Yoongi!” you hear the deep voice but it sounds warbled like you’re hearing it through water. Your head lolls to the side, the ringing in your ears still going as you see feet pass you. “Enough!”
Your field of vision narrows to a sharp point, edges pulling with black. You realize you’re about to pass out, oddly just thankful that you’re already on the ground. Just as your world begins to face, the face of the person in front of you appears.
Namjoon. 
-
“Hey,” a gentle voice calls to you. There are soft hands on your head, brushing against your forehead. It smells like pine and bergamot as you snuggle into them. “I hate to wake you, but you need to wake up every few hours.”
The memory of the wolves comes to you. Your eyes snap open and you blink a few times before your vision adjusts to see Namjoon leaning over you. Cringing away from him, you press yourself into a warm, soft mattress that isn’t your own.
“Easy,” he cautions, holding his hands up. “You smacked your head very hard. I think you have a concussion.” 
“Where am I?” 
The room isn’t so much a room as it is a shack. There is a single fireplace in the far corner, a pile of logs, and the bed that you’re in. Despite the tiny space, it looks well-built and it’s warm, your heart slowing down as Namjoon leans to sit further from you and give you your space.
“Random shack in the woods near your village. I think it used to be a hunter’s stead for the winter.” He jerks his thumb toward the fireplace. “Hasn’t been used in a while. The wood has rotted.” 
“Seokjin - you - what is going on?” 
Emotions spill out of you like a broken dam. You don’t know which to acknowledge first: anger, fear, curiosity, gratitude. 
Namjoon’s sigh is heavy. He visibly looks wearing, running a hand through his hair. You wonder how soft his hair is, followed immediately by feeling ridiculous for the timing of said thought. 
“Just…” he winces. “Try to lean back and take it easy, I’m worried about how hard you hit your head. I promise I have no intentions of hurting you or letting anyone hurt me.”
“You called that white wolf Yoongi. Who is Yoongi? Why was Seokjin in the woods - those people - they’re dead.”
He nods slowly. “They are.” 
You lean back carefully. The bed is comfortable and Namjoon keeps his distance, worried eyes on you. “I will try to explain the best I can. It will require a little bit of faith that I’m not lying to you and that I’m not insulting your intelligence by telling you things that will sound insane.” 
“Like what?”
“Like werewolves exist.”
You stare at him. He doesn’t laugh, crack a grin, or do anything to make you believe he’s joking. Your first instinct is to blow him off. Werewolves were a tale for children and a way to help the children of the village cope during periods of wolf violence. 
Thus far, all Namjoon has done is protect you. Strange as it seems, you know that fact to be true. He didn’t tell Dr. Jim you were eavesdropping, he kept you company after Mr. Hatch’s murder, and he stopped the wolves from taking you.
Namjoon is… there is something between you. You know it.
Hesitantly, you say, “Alright. Werewolves exist. Keep going.”
He is visibly relieved that you’re not questioning or berating him. You don’t exactly believe him yet, but you want to hear his story. 
“There were communities of werewolves who lived here long before humans did. When people migrated to this area, they drove them out and forced those communities to become smaller and smaller. When the werewolves asked for their land back or to share resources, they were hunted and slaughtered.” 
Namjoon’s throat bobs and emotions flicker across his face. His features settle on pain, and you stop yourself from reaching out to take his hand. “What you vaguely remember as wolf attacks and wolf hunts as a child was those families being exterminated. There are a few families in the village who remember that werewolves exist. They took it upon themselves to remove the problem forever.”
This village has a complicated history. 
Dr. Kim’s words float through your mind as you chew on what Namjoon has told you. He lets the information settle, giving you a few moments to think. You don’t recall anyone seriously ever talking about werewolves but… 
“They’re angry,” you murmur, remembering how San described the massacre at the Mathesons. “The wolves now - those aren’t wolves. They’re werewolves who are getting revenge. You spoke of revenge with Dr. Kim. Is that why the animal attacks have been happening?”
Namjoon nods grimly. “There is a very small concentration of people in the village who keep the secret about the massacres and the knowledge of werewolves. Those families have been… targeted recently. They still hunt werewolves when they can.”
“Who is Yoongi?”
“Ah,” he lets out a humorless laugh. “He leads the last remaining community of werewolves. His family was murdered by your constable when he was a child.” You blanch. “Yoongi is angry, vengeful, and very influential. When he was voted pack alpha, he decided to eliminate the last remaining threats.” 
“He’s the white wolf.” Namjoon raises his brows but nods. You think that makes sense, remembering the white wolf at the Marrow farm and the one who dragged you in the forest. “Why was Seokjin there? Did he lead the constable to-”
Namjoon hesitates and nods. “The Kim family are wolf friends. It’s largely the reason Dr. Kim is a veterinarian. They’re what we call one foot in the forest. There were two others in your village that were wolf friends. Your neighbor was one.”
You twist your fingers in the blanket. “Did Yoongi-”
“No. I believe he was murdered by one of the men who knows what Yoongi and his people are.” 
“So that’s why Seokjin led them to Yoongi?” Namjoon gives a curt nod. “This is…. A lot to take in.” 
“It is. Sleep a little more and we’ll talk about it more when you wake up. Your head is already swimming enough, yeah?”
Namjoon’s grin is gentle and you shoot one back. “Do you promise to tell me why you’re really here? And why it feels like I know you?”
“Of course. Sleep, Red.”
-
Namjoon wakes you again a few hours later. This time, it’s with water. It’s cool and fresh, soothing your aching head and waking up your sleepy senses. He lets you drain the entire thing, sitting thoughtfully at the end of your bed. 
This time, you feel more alert. Sitting up carefully, you cross your legs and examine him. He’s dressed in simple clothes and a jacket, the fireplace throwing an orange glow on his face. Again, you’re struck with how much you could swear you know him, like his eyes are something you know and love. 
He waits for you to get settled, placing your hands in your lap. You fiddle with the edge of your tunic, drinking him in. Strong shoulders, rough hands, tawny skin. Your heart does a flip before you shove away thoughts of how pretty he is to think about what he’s told you so far.
“I have questions.”
He smiles and it’s as warm as the fire behind him. “Of course you do.”
“Did the werewolves kill my father?”
You get the tough one out of the way first. It was a thought you had just before you slept, wondering if your father had been someone who helped the constable murder Yoongi’s family. Though you have decided to dislike the white wolf very strongly, you can’t help but pity him.
“No,” Namjoon says vehemently. “After you told me about your father, I did some asking around. He was a wolf friend. That’s why he didn’t hunt big game, Red. He knew about us.” 
A tight feeling works its way up your throat. The relief and anger you feel is a double-edged sword, happy that he didn’t contribute to the displacement Namjoon is speaking of and angry that you know with every bone in your body that he was murdered. The instinct speaks to you the same way it tells you that you know Namjoon. 
You look up at him sharply, realizing something. “What do you mean ‘he knew about us’? Us?” 
Namjoon’s eyes are dark. He regards you intensely, making you shiver. Slowly, Namjoon begins to roll one of his sleeves. Your eyes drop to his hand as he does, long fingers meticulous. He bares his skin and holds his hand out to you, displaying the jagged, white scar that lopes around his wrist. 
Without thinking twice, you reach out to him, pulling his hand toward you. His skin is warm, sending a tingle through your fingertips. His palm is large and rough, your fingers delicate as you flip it to face the ceiling, eyes glued to the scarring around his wrist.
You move your fingers over his palm gently, scraping the calluses as you go. He lets you do what you want, touch stopping at his wrist bone before glancing up at him. His eyes are impossibly dark and he nods, urging you forward. 
The scarring is rough. Thick, ropey lines encircle his wrist like his hand was ravished by teeth. It makes you faintly think of Yoongi’s teeth around your ankle or -
“You,” you breathe, eyes meeting his. They are the same warm, intelligent, and welcoming eyes of the wolf you’d saved all those years ago. The wolf who had stood between you and the others at the Marrow farm. The wolf you dream about every night. “I saved you?”
His throat bobs. “You did.”
“I… that’s why it feels like I know you.” Your fingers trace his scar, almost fondly. Namjoon’s eyes flutter. “I do know you. Why didn’t you tell me?” 
He smirks. “‘Hi, my name is Namjoon and I can turn into a wolf whenever I want and you saved me a few years ago and I’ve been thinking about you ever since’ is not exactly a great opening.” 
“Better than ‘you know most people who don’t want to be seen don’t wear a red cloak’.” He scrunches his nose. Cute. “I don’t know what to say.”
“That’s alright. I’ll talk if you’re willing to listen?”
You nod, not letting go of his hand. Now that you know who and what he is, any residual fear is gone. You scoot toward him, wanting to be closer. “I want to know.”
“Giho is my uncle like I said. He’s not a werewolf, though. That trait passed through my mom’s side of the family. Still, he was family and he knew about the werewolves that my father married into. He's a wolf friend and does what he can to help us, including making house calls and stealing us goods in harsh winters.”
“Huh. I always just thought he was a quiet, grumpy vet.”
“He is very much that, but he has also been a lifeline. He helps Yoongi far more than he should. It puts him in danger. His wife was killed for being a wolf friend. Giho was left alone simply because he is useful to the village.” Your fingers squeeze his hand at the hurt in his voice. “That night you found me… I was pretty young then. Fourteen, to be exact. I was nosing around the village that everyone was so afraid of and never saw the trap. I cannot emphasize how much you saved my life.” 
“It seemed like the right thing to do. I was afraid but you were… hurt. And your eyes were so kind. I don’t regret it.”
“What a relief.” You smile, genuinely happy. “I was worried you might after finding out my family were sort of… killing people.”
“When you put it that way,” you wince. “But I do believe you. That humans drove you out. That people are hurting you and your people. You don’t deserve it and I… don’t think I am in a position to offer moral arguments to what you’re doing.”
“I knew I liked you.”
“You barely know me.”
Namjoon turns his hand and catches yours, lacing your fingers. Your heart skitters as he pulls you a little close and leans, eyes narrowed playfully. “Hmm, sorry. I wasn’t really allowed to come hang out around your town, Little Red.” 
“Why did you finally come? Is it to help Yoongi?”
He shakes his head. “I only have one goal.”
“Which is?”
“To keep you safe.” That quiets you. Namjoon doesn’t meet your eyes when he continues, “You showed me such kindness, I just wanted to repay you. I liked to keep an eye on you when I could, always from a safe distance. You might not know me, but I grew up knowing you.”
Your mouth goes dry at his words. For someone who poses such a threat, Namjoon is gentle. Soft. Kind. You swallow past the lump in your throat. “Did you give me the red cloak?” 
“Yeah. It was to mark you as a friend. We give them to those who are under our protection.” He narrows his eyes. “Which is why Yoongi swears he didn’t know it was you in the woods tonight. Seokjin’s eyesight is too piss poor to realize it was you. Idiots.”
“Well if you know about me, tell me about you. What’s your favorite color? What do you like to eat? What's your favorite thing about being a wolf?”
So Namjoon does tell you. You both end up sitting on the bed next to one another, arms touching as he traces the lines on your palm. Your backs are pressed against the wall, feet dangling off the edge of his bed as he tells you about his childhood. 
It is fascinating hearing about the dynamics of his community but it’s also sad. Hearing how they live in fear, hearing how so many of the people he knows are gone. Realizing that the things he tells you match up with things you realize about your own community. 
Sadness sinks to the bottom of your gut like a rock. It isn’t pity that you feel, but something far more profound. It’s regret that you didn’t know any better. Frustration that he has suffered. A radical feeling of anger and desire for justice knowing you lived in comfort while Namjoon and his family suffered. 
There are good parts, too. Namjoon recalls happy moments and blushes when he recalls seeing you a few times. It doesn’t feel weird or strange, knowing someone was looking out for you. It feels comforting, like old friends catching up. 
Namjoon’s eyes sparkle as he tells you about his favorite books. You don’t know when you stop listening to him and start staring, but it’s inevitable. You love the way his eyes crinkle when he smiles, dimple making an appearance as he recalls a story about putting Yoongi in the dirt with his brother, Taehyung’s help. You love the way he gestures wildly with his hands, every word evocative and enthusiastic. 
He’s the kind of person you would have been friends with had he grown up with you. And maybe a little more, you think, watching Namjoon watch you. His gaze is even and heated, making you squirm. His mouth twitches and you’re so sure that he knows he makes you nervous.
“I never thanked you,” you mention. He hums in question, letting you go back to tracing his scare delicately. He twitches and you grin. Good. “For saving me from the jaws of Yoongi.”
“Ah, that. I think he knew it was you. There’s a reason he dragged you instead of killing you on the spot.”
“Huh. Well, that’s very rude.”
“He’s good at that.”
“You sound fond, still.”
He nods. “I love Yoongi. Is my brother, in a way.”
“Well still. Thank you.” 
You look up at Namjoon. You’re sitting so close, shoulders pressed against one another. He smells like pine and bergamot, your favorite scent. It’s heady, awakening a foreign ache in you. Your heart speeds up as you lean into him just a little more, watching him through your lashes.”
“Don’t look at me like that,” he rumbles, voice deep. 
Your toes curl. “Like what?” 
“LIke you wanna do more than just thank me.”
“Maybe I do.”
“I know.” 
Ah. You start to pull away and turn your head, realizing that he’s not interested, but Namjoon catches your chin with his other hand, tilting you back toward him. Your heart stalls when he looks down at your mouth, then back up to your eyes. “I’ve known you for all my life. Not how I wanted, but I’ve known you nonetheless. But you haven’t had the chance to know me.”
“I want to. I feel like I have known you. Like I knew you were always there.”
“Is this what you want?”
This. Namjoon. Whatever is crackling between you. The thing that has sparked since the moment he caught you eavesdropping. It doesn’t matter that it doesn’t make sense. It doesn’t have to make sense. 
Namjoon makes sense though. The way his gaze softens when he sees you. The way he looms on the edge of your life, a silent protector. The way he could do so much damage but is soft instead. The way everything about him feels like the sun on a summer day, like a field of wildflowers in spring.
He must sense you tipping over the edge. His grip on your chin becomes firm and he tilts your face toward him, leaning down to press his warm, full mouth against yours. The effect is instantaneous. You melt into him, sighing as a feeling of belonging slots into place.
The kiss is chaste. Namjoon pulls away and your lashes flutter. You hadn’t even realized your eyes closed. His gaze is dark and half-lidded, his face close enough that you feel his breath. His lips have stoked a fire in you and you want more, you want to spill out the years of longing for something you didn’t know was there, for the sudden confirmation that he’d been there all along.
Surging forward, you press your lips to his again. This time, it’s searing, your mouth fierce as you push up off of the bed. Namjoon falls in your rhythm easily, hand leaving your chin to grab you by the waist and pull you into his lap.
Knees slotted on either side of him, you pour everything you have into the kiss. Your fingers card through his thick hair, silky strands sliding between them like you knew they would. His lips are soft on yours, mouth warm as you break the seal of the kiss with your tongue.
Namjoon lets out deep, throaty sounds. It coaxes the flame inside of you to a roar, tongue tangling with his. It’s wet and messy and a little impractical but you don’t feel embarrassed or nervous. It’s Namjoon. It feels like home. 
Pleasure tingles down your spine. Namjoon grips your hips, fingers digging into your flesh. It feels hot and your skin is burning up, static trapped between your chests where they’re pressed together. Your hips twitch, tentatively seeking friction in his lap. Namjoon responds immediately, pulling your hips toward him and letting you roll. 
Your mouths part but Namjoon doesn’t stop kissing you. You pant while he presses his mouth to your chin and jawline, tongue tough against the softness of your skin. “I’ve wanted you for so long,” he growls. You tilt your head back, letting him pepper your throat. “You have no idea.”
“I always felt like something was missing. I think it was you.”
Namjoon moans at your admission. The heat between your legs is almost painful. One of Namjoon’s hands goes from your waist to between your legs, cupping you. You gasp back bowing as he presses firmly, deft fingers providing mind-numbing pleasure.
“That feels good.” You fist the collar of his shirt and squeeze your eyes. You feel tense, color exploding behind your closed lids. “Don’t stop.”
“Whatever you want,” he whispers. He pulls you in close, fingers curling. Your hips buck and you realize it isn't enough. You need the barrier of clothes gone. You want it more than anything. “You know I’d do anything for you.”
“Yes.”
You do know. It’s second nature. You knew even that day in the street when you’d first seen him. Just like Namjoon knows what you want and need, land leaving the apex of your thighs to help you off his lap and onto the bed under him. 
There’s a confidence in his movements that makes the room spin. Long forgotten are the wolf attacks and Yoongi’s teeth around your ankle. Here, it’s only the rasp of your pants against your skin as Namjoon pulls them down. It’s only the heat of his skis as you yank on his tunic, desperate to feel him.
Namjoon does run hot. His skin is burning up as your hands explore his firm chest. He captures your lips again, sucking your bottom lip in his mouth as he spreads your legs open with a knee. You shake under his touch, equal parts eager and stimulated. 
He’s so, so gentle as he caresses your inner thigh. When he brings his fingers to your sticky center, you let out a pitiful whine. Namjoon pauses, fingers pressed to your swollen kiss as he laughs and breaks the kiss, forehead pressed against yours.
“Don’t laugh at me,” you pout, leaning your head up to bite his chin. “It feels good.”
He gives you a quick kiss. Once. Twice. “Good. I want to make you feel good.” 
Namjoon circles his middle finger lazily around your clit. Your feet press into the bed, hips pulling up off the sheets. It feels amazing, pleasure sparking in your stomach. “That,” you gasp. “I like that.” 
He dips his head down, attaching his mouth to your neck as he teases your cunt. You don’t have to say anything else, Namjoon’s inquisitive fingers learning what makes you squirm and sigh. You’re a mess beneath him, chest heavy, beats of sweat making your shirt cling to you.
You claw at it, pulling it away from you. Namjoon leans up and lets you take it off, eyes dipping as he smiles appreciatively. He combines the efforts of his fingers with his mouth, bending low to catch a pert nipple with his teeth.
“Shit!” you squeak, making him chuckle again.
His fingers circle your clenching hole, pussy leaking onto his fingers. He presses a finger in and you let out a long, quiet whine. The feeling of his finger pressing against your walls is perfect, your cunt clenching as he shallowing thrusts the finger.
Everything he does is perfect. He sucks at your nipple hungrily as he fingers you slowly, making sure to press up inside your cunt in a way that has you seeing stars. Your fingers tangle in his hair, unable to think about anything except his teeth scraping your sensitive bud and your pussy clenching around his finger.
Namjoon is attentive. The heel of his hand presses to your clit and he eases another finger in, slower than the last. He looks up at you, mouth slick with spit to watch your mouth fall open. You nod, urging him further, sound stuck in your throat. 
The wet squelch between your legs as he fucks you with his fingers is obscene. You like it though, driven by the fact that it’s Namjoon doing it. Namjoon who you saved. Namjoon who watched over you. 
You open your eyes and look up at him, cradling his face in your hands. His forehead is damp with sweat from the heat building in the little shack. His skin is flushed and his hair hangs in his face. You pull at his bottom lip with your thumb and he gazes at you, hungry and wild, pupils blown.
Greedy, you pull him to you. The kiss is more teeth than lips, the two of you panting. Your leg hooks around his waist and you nibble his bottom lip, hips rolling to meet his thrusts, an orgasm starting its ascent. 
“I want you,” you breathe against his mouth. Your lips are sore from arduous kissing. “Please.”
He kisses you. “Okay.”
It’s that simple. You ask for it and he gives it to you.
Namjoon retracts his fingers from your cunt. You feel the sudden loss, fidgeting as you wait. He makes quick work of his pants, kneeling on the bed and bringing his hands covered in your juice to pump his cock. You feel your eyes bulge at his thick length. 
He notices and grins, slowing his movements. You watch as his hand smears precum down his shaft, twisting lightly as he gets to the top, his thumb brushing over his dark tip. “You can take it,” he pants, grinning wolfishly. “I know you can.”
Instead of answering, you nod, lifting your hips eagerly. He hums, pleased as he lets go, cock bobbing heavily while he shuffles over and leans over you. He places his hands on either side of your head, arms flexing as he holds his weight to bend down and steal a quick kiss. 
You kiss back feverishly, one hand traveling between your sweaty bodies to grip his length, trying to stroke him the way he did. He sighs, breaking the kiss and dropping his forehead against your chin as a shiver ripples through him. You smile, continuing to pump him.
“Want to be inside,” he mumbles, barely coherent. 
You open yourself up more, gently guiding the blunt crown of his cock toward your trembling entrance. You hold your breath as his hips follow your hand, breaching your ring of tight muscles and pushing in. 
Immediately your muscles spasm and resist, overwhelmed by Namjoon’s girth. You blow out a long breath as he enters you so, so slowly. It’s heaven and it’s hell, it’s pleasure and it’s pain. Namjoon presses his mouth to you, tongue distracting you as he bottoms out, stuffing you full.
Nothing has ever compared to how stretched you are. He doesn’t move, letting your cunt twitch around him. He holds himself up with one hand, the other brushing up and down your side, squeezing bits of flesh comfortingly as you try to still your beating heart under him.
The pain fades. You get greedy, wiggling your hips back and forth experimentally to feel the way Namjoon’s cock rubs against your walls. He blows out air sharply, a half laugh before his hand drops down to your hip, pushing you down into the bed with his weight as he slides backward.
“Ohhhh,” you sigh, head lolling to the side. The pressure of Namjoon pressing you down as he sets a slow pace of fucking into you is just right. You close your eyes, letting him set a slow pace in silence. “Yeah.” 
Namjoon’s breath is unsteady. Every little sound he makes sets you on fire. You’re pliant beneath him as he picks up his speed, properly fucking into you. One of your hands reaches up to grab his bicep, nails digging in, the other shooting to his hand on your hip, squeezing his wrist. 
Everything feels right. Connected. Overheated. The air is so thick you think you might suffocate, sheets sticking to your balmy skin, toes curling as Namjoon’s cock hits that spot inside of you that drives you mad. 
Nothing but this matters. Nothing but knowing your wolf isn’t really a wolf at all, and that he’s been there all along. Just like you’d hoped. 
“Fuck,” Namjoon pants. “I never dreamed I’d have you.”
“I dreamed of you,” you gasp on a particularly hard thrust, your nails dragging down his arm. “I just didn’t know it.”
His mouth crashes to yours. “Mine,” he growls. “My savior, mine to protect.” 
Your orgasm spins like an out-of-control spool of thread, winding tighter and tighter. Namjoon can tell, chasing your orgasm with reckless abandon, throwing his gentle movements out the window and fucking you hard into the bed. 
The sounds and words coming out of your mouth are useless babble, your thoughts turning murky as that spool tightens so much inside of you that it bursts, unspooling and spilling out of you around Namjoon’s cock. 
You can’t even breathe as you come, feet kicking, nails digging into his skin, teeth clenched. Your heart beats in your ears, the only thing you can hear for a few seconds as you spasm, eyes clenched shut. You are vaguely aware of Namjoon coming shortly after you, your name ripping through clenched teeth as he does. 
There are a few minutes of nothing punctuated by your stilted breathing and rapid pulse. Finally, you blink, stars swimming in your eyes as you look at Namjoon, who hangs his head on your chest. You reach a hand up and run your fingers through his sweaty hair.
Your wolf. Somehow you’d always known it. Even when you thought you were crazy. 
Gently, Namjoon pulls out of you, fluid spilling between your legs. You don’t care, limbs too heavy to move. Your skin is still burning up from exertion and you roll your head to the side to watch Namjoon as he lays next to you, pulling you toward him. 
For a little while, it’s quiet. You listen to the beating of his heart, closing your eyes and breathing deeply. You’re content just to lay there feeling whole just for once. 
After a while, Namjoon sighs. “You have to go back eventually.”
“We.”
“Hmm?”
“We have to go back.”
Namjoon pulls away and frowns at your tone, eyes reading your face. Your mouth is set in a firm line and you look at him with all seriousness. “We’re not letting them get away with what the humans did to you and your family.”
“You want to help?”
“Yes.” You pause. “I think it’s what my father would have wanted. It’s what I want. Even if Yoongi bit me.”
“Yoongi will never bite you again,” he vows fiercely. Then, a little more gently, “But he… would be glad to hear your sympathetic stance. I’m glad to hear it, Red.”
“Good.” You snuggle closer. “You’re mine to protect too. And I will make them pay.”
For Namjoon. For your father. You’ll paint the village red. 
707 notes · View notes
dearly-somber · 6 months
Text
sharp teeth | m.list
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pairing. wolf shifter!jungkook x human!reader (f)
sum. Jungkook—a love struck puppy pining for Y/N’s affection. Y/N—an oblivious, hard-headed tsundere too thick to realize a shifter likes her. What could go wrong?
genre. slow burn, unrequited pining, mutual pining, eventual romance, shifter/werewolf!au, eventual smut, i2l (idiots-to-lovers), f2l (friends-to-lovers), fluff, humor, drama, angst, found family, established relationship, high school!au, university!au
total w/c. 16,441 (including drabbles)
overall rating. 13+
collection. mini-series
a/n. Main Series and Drabbles are finally in chronological order, woo-hoo! This fic is available to read on AO3!
Listen to the <Sharp Teeth> playlist on Spotify!
© dearly-somber 2022–
started. June 30th, 2022. finished.
🌕🌔🌓🌒🌑🌘🌗🌖���
Main Series
It’s An Affectionate Thing | Jun 30th, 2022
Naked | Jun 18th, 2022
Yours | Jun 30th, 2022
Warm | Jun 30th, 2022
Purr | Nov 8th, 2023
RBF | Oct 30th, 2023
Because It’s Soft | Feb 26th, 2023
stand still (i’m sniffing you) | Feb 19th, 2024
Twister | Sept 16th, 2023
Haircut | Nov 30th, 2023
Heat Stroke | Jun 10th, 2023
Body Art |
What’s The Prob? Dog. |
Oh No! |
I Like Me Better |
The Moon Will Sing |
🌕🌔🌓🌒🌑🌘🌗🌖🌕
Drabbles
Sharp Teeth | Jun 30th, 2022
Feel The Burn |
In My Bed |
20/20 Vision | Jan 28th, 2024
Jungkook staying at Y/N’s house |
Girl Talk |
Whine, Whimper, Weep | Sept 26th, 2023
Graduation |
Drugs, Sex, and Alcohol |
Soft Blankets, Cold Days |
All The Right Ways |
Do It Again |
Cuddling With Your Partner |
Y/N meeting Jungkook’s parents |
Y/N’s parents meeting the pack |
Love You Like That |
‘cause your love, is my drug |
905 notes · View notes
kth1fics · 10 months
Text
Safe Haven (M) | PJM
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Safe Haven
⟶ Pairing: Park Jimin x Female Reader ⟶ Genre: royalty, smut, 18+ ⟶ Tropes: forbidden love au, medieval royal au, royal king’s guard werewolf!jimin ⟶ WC: 16.2k+ ⟶ Warnings: mild birth scene mention (hardly any details!), mentions of d*ath, brief fighting/attacking descriptions, blood mentions, hair pulling (when attacked), weapons mentioned, poison/venom mention, random side character d*aths, soft pining, kisses, fingering, oral (f), unprotected sex, etc ⟶ Beta: Sarah bean! @caelesjjk ⟶ Summary: When a wolf protects the royal family for many years, he’s faced with one special princess who he’ll do anything for. ⟶ Author’s Note: Apart of the “To Love a Monster” collab! I took a long while to get this fic out – and I am sorry for those who have been waiting for it. It may take me months to write and readers minutes to read, but I do hope that this fic holds a special place in someone’s heart in the end! Please enjoy & leave some feedback if you have the time! ⟶ Song Recommendation: Bound to You by Christina Aguilera
Masterlist ◈ Mail Box ◈ AO3 ◈ Ko-Fi 
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Freshly welcomed into the King’s Guard, Jimin, a sprouting young wolf, rushes around the corridors of the castle to obey the barking orders of his higher-ups. Making haste, all servants and guards make their purpose of assisting the Queen.
“Hurry!” Hoseok, another royal guard and close friend to Jimin, shuffles through the utility room. “Gather more cloth!”
“Aren’t people usually more prepared with things like this?” Jimin frantically follows, his voice rushed with the fast pace movements. 
“I’m afraid not,” Hoseok huffs a laugh.
The two younger royal guards speedily ransack each drawer and closet until their arms are full of materials. They stumble back down the hall towards the birthing chamber. A room enclosed for the parties who participate with the anticipated arrival of the next royal kin. A domestic, darkened room provided with the country's softest furnishings. Royal officials and servants are permitted to be within the room for the delivery to ensure that there are no scandals around the birthing practice.
A midwife places herself before the legs of the Queen. A moan of pain rips from her Highness’s throat. Jimin and Hoseok stand idly as the birthing of child number three crowns at the entrance of the world, preparing to gain its first breath of fresh air. The scene is natural for humans, even more common for a royal to carry out in front of an audience.
For Jimin, he prefers not to stare like the others. His polished amber eyes trail to the lines of the floorboards, using any peripheral view for his advantage.
“It’s a girl!” He hears the cries from a newborn baby, the declaration announced by the midwife who’s wiping off residue from the infant.
Placed on the chest of her mother, the newest child of the royals whines freely. The sound rings through the ears who listen. The King is joyous, regardless of being unable to create a proper heir to his throne. But with the first two daughters – and now third, the royal guards know his Highness will move quickly in trying for a son.
Servants flutter about, handling the delicacies of aftercare for childbirth. Jimin follows after his friend, handing off the pile of cloth to a maiden. Bodies move around another like an assembly line. 
For a moment, and only a moment is needed, did Jimin finally take a swift glance at the newborn who screams her upset. He locks eyes with the infant over the shoulder of Hoseok, seeing a warmth of an everlasting hearth as she cries wet droplets down her face.
Then it happened.
Jimin is struck with something that is indescribable. Something that couldn’t be defined. He’s heard through stories and lores within his lineage that this phenomenon could happen to anyone at any time in one's life. He hears about it through those he’s close to and those who experience it. It’s a once in a lifetime deal.
He can feel the shift of his weight when he locks eyes with the newborn baby. As if this new formed motion represents an outstanding astronomical level. Where his world, which once revolved around the Sun as it does for everyone, now revolves around this small, fragile child.
Jimin’s heartbeat thumps in his ears as the world freezes around him. Hoseok and the other royal wolf guards all sense a change in the wind. If it isn’t Hoseok ushering him out of the way of the other servants and departing out of the chamber, he’s sure the royal family would have done it themselves. 
With his head on a silver platter.
Hoseok’s palm slaps the side of Jimin’s cheek to gain his consciousness from whatever daze he’s fumbled in. It takes him a few good taps before Jimin blinks. His blood runs rampant inside him with warmth and excitement.
The second Jimin looked at the third child of the royal household, everything changed within him. All of a sudden, nothing else matters. The yearning of knowing and willing to do anything, be anything, for her is the only constant demand singing at the back of his head.
“You didn’t,” Hoseok’s hushed tone stays low. “Not a royal!”
“How am I supposed to control that?” Jimin stresses. “I can’t choose who this happens to! I didn’t expect this to happen to me!” He runs a hand through his soft hair, exhaling sharply as his mind begins to race.
“You’re going to learn,” Hoseok claims. His eyes are sharp and narrow. “You will learn to control it. A wolf is not allowed to be mixed with a royal. They’ll kill you.”
His imprint will be kept secret from the royals and the precious baby girl. But for his wolf mates, each of them knows the severity of the situation. Not one member will speak of it, they only can respect it. As for Jimin, he’ll spend the rest of her life – your life – being what you need him to be. A friend, a brother, a protector. Whatever you require of him, he will act accordingly in secrecy while obeying his rightful duties to the royal throne.
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White flurries fall slowly from the gray clouds above, decorating the large courtyard, you look down towards the sheet of fresh snow. Most of the garden that blooms the most gorgeous flowers is now a mess of dead plants and weeds. The bare trees stand firm. But those who stand strong in the winter months like hollies with red berries and camellias, continue to stand out next to the beauty of sheared evergreens and deciduous shrubs with colorful stems.
Your eyes are not trained on admiring the bright snow that cascades from the sky so beautifully. Normally you would. As you sit by your glass window with a blanket around your shoulders, you look down from your chambers on the third level of the castle to fancy something different.
Men – some of the royal guards – play around with one another in the cold weather. Some have shifted to their wolven form, others remain in their noble suits. The one you fixate your stare on is your personal guard, Jimin.
He stands leaning against the stone staircase beside a few of his equals. Chatting away about who knows what, watching the others roughhouse. Jimin is quite handsome, he always has been. For as long as you can remember he’s looked the same, minus the fluctuation of hair styles and added tattoos that linger his body and a few added battle scars.
As a guard he wears your family's sigil proudly – a lotus flower – on each of his articles of clothing. Customized into each of the guards’ crested plates of metal armor and sewn into each leather hide. 
Jimin possesses the unfair mix of unlimited masculine and feminine traits, having a soft-looking composure and full lips plus a sharp jawline and toned muscles. His voice is nearly angelic when speaking in hushed tones but also stern as ever when he leads with his strong confidence. He may not be as large as his fellow wolves, but he’s proven himself countless times to your family to have the privilege to be your personal guard. There’s nobody quite like him; no one you’ve met in your life that is.
You commend him in silence, appreciating what you can watch from afar. Even from a distance behind a glass window, he somehow manages to make your heart race. An infatuation some may call it. A yearning. He and your family have been consistent in your life, he’s comfort – as are they. But you knew from a young age, from when you began favoring Jimin’s company over others, that you need to call it ‘nothing’. Because whatever feelings that spin deep inside you are never to be spoken aloud. It’s foolish for your Kingdom, family, and you to long for a wolf who doesn’t see you as anything but a duty.
What’s more disappointing is that you don’t need to admit these infuriating feelings to Jimin, he already knows. He would never allow it to get far by cutting you short and being curt with clipped words and disapproving looks.
He is a wolf and you are a royal. Two beings who have no business intertwining besides with loyalty to the family and the job of a guard. Your acquaintanceship between another is only going to be professional. Perhaps it’s to keep the bloodline pure, untainted. How every sibling of the family is betrothed to a neighboring kingdom, growing the alliance across countries. And not one of them has a blend of wolf’s blood in them. Even though werewolves are evident in the world around you.
“Aren’t you supposed to get ready for the party tonight?” A maid who's making your bed quips up as you're daydreaming down into the evergreen.
“I’ve been stuck on deciding which dress I should wear.”
“No, you’ve been stuck staring out into the courtyard,” she corrects.
You slump in your seat as you stubbornly hold your position by the window. When you look back down, you admire the off-brown and black tones of that particular wolf you fancy. She isn’t wrong, you know. His kind eyes and kind smiles make you feel warmth like no other, and you enjoy seeing them when you gain the chance.
“I can multitask,” you feebly argue. You drag the blanket tighter around your shoulders, keeping in the warmth of your body as much as possible. “Besides, the party isn’t for a few more hours.”
“Princess, you already have guests arriving. Half the guard is at the entrance welcoming the parties who show up early. Let’s not begin to mention how several potential suitors are arriving today. You’ve failed to marry even when betrothed. Such a shame what happened with the Jeon family.”
“I prefer not to be a royal. It doesn’t feel right the way we work,” you sigh as the joyful wolves down below have fun while you’re stuck in your tower with envy. “Can we braid my hair the way we did at my Aunt’s wedding? It cascaded down beautifully.” You speak while staring out of the window, purposely ignoring the heavier topic your maid mentions. “I’ll go with the silver dress. That one that comes with the gorgeous fur shawl.”
You notice the way that Jimin has suddenly turned to look up toward your window, half expecting to see you through the glass. Even in the midst of his comrades, he finds a way to give you an ounce of attention. He shakes his head momentarily, already scolding you without knowing what you’re supposed to be doing. Jimin knows looking for him isn’t on your agenda, you purposely put him there.
“For me to do that,” – you hear the voice of your maid – “I need you to get out of your chair and into your washroom.”
A small frown carves into your face when Jimin circles his finger in the air and directs you to turn around, go back to your business. He knows he’s escorting you tonight at the party, you will see him later. To make his point come across sternly, he disassociates his eye contact – bringing his attention back to his other peers and away from you.
“Princess,” your maid bids you once again.
Reluctant to leave your post at the window, you stand up regardless. You have a long night ahead of you while the castle starts to fill up with guests for your younger brother’s birthday party.
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You can’t be bothered with the chattering staff or the nuisance of guests who flutter around the halls of your family’s castle. Each moment you find open to run away, to a quieter place and away from their eyes, you take it. Swiftly moving left and right until you can find your favorite spots to hide since you were a child. 
One of which happens to be past the hallway of family portraits. If you travel far enough you find yourself at a dead end. With cabinets, paintings, and curtains outlining every inch of the stone walls. Torches are lit to illuminate the surrounding areas, bringing light to the beautiful surroundings.
But little do most know, that behind painting number two – the one in the golden frame with green shrubbery and a little boy playing the flute – lies a secret behind it. You just need to get here without anyone seeing you sneak in. There’s no point in a secret hideout if you accidentally show it to other guests.
You wait for the time, seeing when that end of the hall becomes vacant and people rush toward the call of the buffet lines. The small talk you make with a few distant relatives is only an act, pretending to walk along with them but slipping away when you find your moment to.
Pressing lightly, the nook of a room behind the large painting greets you. It’s closet sized, filled with a few pieces of your past and littered in dust from lack of touch. Tarps are draped over unused furniture; you’re thankful that this hideout is never really used. The painting that acts as a door allows you a small peeping eyehole to look out and judge when you can come out.
The silver dress you picked for tonight's gathering is a smart choice for you; you’re able to sit down comfortably without restriction. You love the look of a free-flowing gown, falling nicely with the way you walk. Patting off a layer of dust from a chair, you’re able to seat yourself as you take an old notebook in your hand.
Small doodles linger on the pages, all drawn by your younger self. You remember each of them, no matter how terrible they may look. It’s how you pass time while hiding in here. The low lighting from the cracks of the portrait gives you most of your light source, and occasionally you will add flame to the candle that rests on the top of the desk beside you.
You scowl at the dried black ink next to the quill pen, the feather beaten up and torn. It’s been years since you’ve last touched it. Maybe browsing through all the pages of your books won’t be so bad as you loiter in your small den.
“Princess Y/n.”
A spark of panic zaps through you like lightning in the sky on a stormy day. Surprised by the voice of none other than Jimin, your personal royal guard. You watch as fingers curl around the edge of the portrait-door and a beautiful, yet stern, face peeks through. His amber eyes catch you as they squint at your mischievous behavior. 
“I knew you would be hiding somewhere.” He comments as he pushes himself through the opening and into the room. Jimin wears the guards festive wear, a beautiful pink etched coat with cream leather hide armor. He’s sure to close the door behind him; he’s more stealthy than you can ever be. “Are you upset?”
“No,” you turn your head back to the book in your hands. The weight of his gaze on you is nearly suffocating. “I simply wanted solitude.”
“You know you are to be returned. They’re calling upon your brother shortly for his ceremony. It’s a big event for him,” his tone is low but he maintains a soft tenor to it. Jimin is far too kind toward you even though he’s meant to be a guard and nothing more. His exterior has toughened over the years, as it should to fill his part. Although, the sweeter half of him sticks out to you and perhaps that’s what you’ve held onto all these years.
“Sadly, I know.” You shut your eyes and sigh heavily, “I’m not quite in the celebratory mood. I would much prefer to be in my chambers.”
“That’s selfish of you.” Jimin’s hand comes to take away your book, placing it on the desk where it belongs. He bends down to level his face with yours. “You should be happy for your brother, he’s of age to carry out duties now. To be what he needs to be. Something you should understand.”
You hear the underlying hint Jimin gives you. He’s softly scolding you, as usual. 
At first you say nothing in response. Downcasting your eyes to your empty hands as you think what can be said to counter him, but you draw nothing.
You’re the third child in the family of four. A role where you feel invisible and forgotten. Always having second bests and hand-me-downs. Once your brother, who is a few years younger than you, sprouted from the womb of your mother – all chances of your favor flew out the window. As a male in this royal world is keen, any daughter is denied the spotlight. But you never craved a place to rule, or to do what a princess must do. Your oldest sister, the most responsible one of all, desires that for herself. You see it in the way she presents herself. Aces every test and diplomacy role she is given.
The second oldest is the fairest, she didn't need to do much to gain the popularity or attention she is given. It comes so unfairly natural to her thanks to the outstanding looks she’s been blessed with. A privilege only few and far between are given. Life for her is as simple as breathing, all she needs to do is point and ask.
Your younger brother is everything that your father waited for. Of course, your father, the King, treats all his children with love and passion. Keeps you sheltered, fed, and protected. However, the moment he received a bouncing baby boy – that tears any favoritism away from you or your sisters. A male has an unfair advantage in the royal family, it’s just how the world is.
“Princess –”
“– I know,” you unwillingly stand up from your chair. Jimin straightens himself as well, taken aback by your swift movement. “I want to retire after his ceremony,” you say curtly.
You take a single step toward the door as your hand reaches out to push against it, Jimin’s hand  grabs your wrist gently, like catching a delicate rose. Softly, he lowers your arm down as he steps before you with a concerned look on his face. His eyes search for signs of distress on your face.
“You’re upset,” he affirms.
“Nothing works in my favor,” you address with a choleric tone. Anger isn’t something you want resting on the surface, but it’s leaking out of the seams of your composure. “Sometimes, I truly despise being a royal daughter.”
You stare at the digits wrapped around your wrist, noticing how Jimin hasn’t let go of you yet. It feels cruel how you wish there was more meaning to the contact. Why can’t he hold you the way you long for him to?
Your eyes meet his with confusion and sadness. The pretty amber color still stands out in the low lighting, they’re beautiful to stare at. But you can’t read what’s going on in his mind. 
Jimin feels your sadness. He is connected to you deeply, little do you know. You can never know. It’s safer this way. Slowly, he releases your wrist letting his fingertips be the last thing that brushes against your skin. He can only comfort you so much without overstepping his boundaries. If he capsizes every time you give him those hopeless eyes, he’ll lose his placement in the guard and lose you indefinitely.
“Please,” he breathes, “We must go.”
Jimin pushes the hatch open steadily, peering out through the eyehole to make sure the coast is clear to sneak back into the festivities. He leaves space between the two of you as you walk side-by-side.
Silent tension surrounds you as your heels click with every step you take. There’s a dullness in your eyes, a lack of enthusiasm the closer you approach the center of the party. The amount of people here drains you even as you wear a kind smile.
Your little brother’s coronation will go quickly, you hope. Jimin’s words resound in your head, causing you to reflect on what he said.
“That’s selfish of you.”
You make your way to your designated chair at the family table quietly. The talks and commotions between the castle’s guests, family from far and wide, don’t phase you as you blur out the noise. The red liquid poured graciously in a chalice beside you becomes your saving grace; your delicate fingers grasp the cup and run over the smooth jewels embedded on the sides.
Your eyes find Jimin’s across the crowded room as he stands on guard near one of the walls. His hand rests over the handle of his sword casually, a weapon they choose first before shifting as a last resort. He can read the longing in your eyes with a mix of desperation and gloom. 
You wait to see his expected disapproving look. The one that tells you to pay attention to something else other than him – but you don’t. He stuns you confused as, instead of his typical stern look, he looks down at the ground. Deep in thought.
Are you truly selfish when nobody around you is selfless?
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Your chamber is a sanctuary. Filled with all the necessities you need to live like royalty. An abundant amount of candles have been lit to brighten the room, giving it a soft aura. 
You wear your hair down, untied from the tight braids you wore for the majority of the night. Your nightgown, cream in color and silk to the touch, is loose in all the right places. The ceremony took its time as you waited to retire for the night with the little patience you have left. You’re positive plenty of men are still celebrating at their feast. 
Maybe tomorrow will be a better day.
A loud thud shakes the doors to your room, a verbal grunt can be heard. You look over at your maid who does the same as she slowly walks toward the noise. There's a scurry of traffic beyond your door as the two of you try to make out the words that are being shouted. You take a step with her, but with that single step you catch a glimpse of something out of the corner of your eye. Through the window you see a flash of red light. Smoke rises as pieces of the garden have been lit to flame. Upon closer inspection, you peer down your window into the once beautiful scenery to find brawls of fights. Men fighting enemies with swords, crossbows and guns.
Another thump hits the outside of your chamber’s doors and you twist your head to see your maid inches away from the handle, ready to pull.
“Don’t!” You turn frantic to shout at her.
But it is too late. Your maid already has her hand twisting the handle to pull the door open. But a force pressed the door faster than she anticipated – a body of a man standing guard slumped against the doorframe and now falling to the floor. A wound across his neck as blood smears across your family’s sigil on his leather chest plate.
Both you and your maid screech at the sight as you back away from the door. You can hear the commotion louder now as bodies rush past the halls as they run away from the intruders.
“Hide!” Your maid shoos you quickly and frantically while her first attempt of shutting your chamber’s door fails.
You’re not given a moment to think before you watch as two ruffians walk up to the door, one holding a flamed torch and a hand dagger as the other holds a handgun. They’re dirty from appearance, wearing torn up clothes but come armed with weapons that look like they belong to someone wealthy. They smile evilly, curling their lips at the sight of you as they advance on your maid.
“There’s a royal,” one comments in a ghoulish tone. They step over the body below them like it’s a fallen tree trunk. They laugh among each other, giggling at whatever is playing on in their minds. You definitely do not wish to know.
Your maid twists away, hoisting her skirt up high enough to let her legs lounge as she begins to run toward you. It provokes one of the men, making him chase her immediately as he finds it funny to stalk her. Threaten her with the slices he mimics with his dagger in the air.
Slowly, your feet have backed up along the path of your room. You make sure you keep as much furniture between you and the intruders. Your eyes remain open wide, trying so hard not to blink and miss any sudden movements.
You feel small compared to the man’s stature as he creeps closer and closer to you. Hectically, your hands reach around the tops of dressers and tables to find anything to use as a weapon. A letter opener? A pen? Anything to defend yourself from whoever these men are who impose your safe space.
More screams and shouts can be heard throughout the castle halls and outside. The place is being run down with bandits, unknown persons who you cannot identify from first glance. They wear close to all black attire, worn down from several years. Protected by pads and suitable armor, as if they collected stolen pieces and placed them together.
You hold your arms closer to your body with the heat of the males heavy gaze on you. His eyes look bloodshot as he studies your options of escape.
“Come here little royal,” he sneers while his beaten up boots scuff across the floor.
Your maid is chased across the wall, quickly making her way toward you as the other man follows her like a hunter. Herding his prey together before they set to kill.
They rush the two of you, forcing you to nearly trip over your own feet as your gown betrays you while you step on the very end of it. A small rip of fabric resounds but you’re in too much of a haste to notice from where.
Your maid screams in horror as you yell out for help. Your bodies fumble across the expanse of your chamber’s, trying to find the opportunity to rush out of the door if you can. To escape the men who run after you.
Where are the rest of your guards? What is happening and why are your werewolf guards not attacking? Who are these men and what do they have to attack the castle with? In all your years on this planet, you’ve never been caught in a situation like this. No intruder has ever made it past the front gates until now.
A knife is thrown in your direction, missing you but landing straight into the wall beside your head.
“Oops, guess I need to try that again,” you hear the male speak with malicious intent.
The other has gained enough momentum to grab your maid, pull her in as she struggles to fight him off. He’s rough, holding her arms as he pushes her against the wall. You're already rushing to her side, using your fists to hit the man on his arm and back.
“Get off of her!” you bawl, throwing your fist at him as fast as possible.
A hand grips your hair, yanking you back away from the two and onto the closest table. Your back hits the surface hard as the man presses you down. He threatens you with a dagger pointed at your face as his other hand holds you down by your shoulder.
The brute force immediately makes your eyes water as you stare up at the man in fear. You wrap your hands around his wrists to push him off, holding him off for as long as you can. Your kicks and screams do nothing to phase him, only fuels him.
You feel his hand slide to your throat; latch his ugly, dirty fingers around your neck. It’s brief, like a flash of lightning. But just as soon as he repositions himself, an arrow shoots straight into his head. Visibly shaken, you struggle to process the vicious man above you losing the life he has.
Your efforts of pushing begin to work as his lack of strength weakens by the second. A final push, not made by you – but from your personal guard, Jimin, knocks the man entirely off of you. He’s quick, already primed and prepped to shoot the other ruffian the second he turns away from your maid and to see his comrade passed out on the floor. Jimin launches another arrow with a flick of his finger, a perfect shot.
Both ruthless and merciless men seem to be dead, fallen to the floor of your chamber’s as pools of blood leak from their bodies.
You and your maid tremble in fear and anxiety. Frightened at the series of events and how the two of you were nearly brutally attacked.
Jimin wears streaks of blood across his face as his hair falls out of place. His beautifully tailored festive armor is now beaten and destroyed with stains. You look at him with confusion and anguish as reality sets in.
“Jimin,” you cry out in a broken sob. Your throat tightens and feels as if it’s being pricked by a dozen thorns while your hand runs up to touch the area where the man laid his fingers on.
“I’m sorry,” are the first words out of his mouth. Solemn and saddened. But he’s relieved to be here for you, even if he is cutting it short and close to being a second too late. 
It isn’t his fault the castle has been blindsided and an evil group has snuck their way inside its walls and started a reign of terror. But he takes blame for not being at your side every second that he should have been. Instead, he rushed to the frontlines once called upon. Tried to stop the invasion from penetrating deeper into the castle. 
In most cases this strategy works, but unfortunately tonight – it doesn’t.
But as the fighting continues and larger groups of people begin rushing in from all areas of the castle – equipped with tainted metals containing mountain ash and wolfsbane – the royal guards are not as prepared. A minor setback, yet it almost costs your life.
“I came as soon as I could,” he steps closer to you with sympathetic eyes. He’s hurt, more worried about how you are as he feels your dread and fear. “I’m so sorry.”
There’s still many battles being fought throughout the castle. People being slayed as guards protect as much as they can. Jimin helps you stand straight, holding you close to him as he’s escorting both your maid and you out of your chamber’s.
“Jimin,” you repeat as you hold onto him, wrapping your hands desperately around him. “Who are they?”
He brings the two of you deeper into your chamber, rushing you to a secret doorway that leads to a hidden passage. Your castle is littered with these; most guards know several entrances but not a lot of exits. It’s a maze down there; dark, cold, and gloomy as well. As a child, you would wander through some just to see how far you could reach without cowering out.
“They must be from the South. They’re fighting with wolfsbane. Their weapons are laced with it.”
It’s common knowledge that wolfsbane is rare near these grounds. It’s ordinary for them to grow down South, but they can be imported. Your family is known for being guarded by werewolves; so an attack like this must be heavily planned.
“Remember the passageways?” Jimin grunts as he pushes both you and your maid toward a panel against the wall. It’s colored like an archway, but the third one can be open with a twist of a lever. Specifically the sconce hanging to the left of it. “I need you to escape through them.”
You hear the falter in Jimin’s voice momentarily, how he sounds like he staggered his breath.
“Are you hurt?” You ask alarmingly. Your eyes frantically scan over his exterior, looking for any noticeable signs of a wound.
“Princess, I need you to go through the passageways,” he turns the lighting fixture swiftly. The secret door clicks open, a cool gust of air puffs through and hits against your skin. “Don’t worry about me. I need to protect you and the rest of your family.”
Your maid understands, already stepping through as she’s pulling you with her. Jimn is a guard, he needs to go and maintain his duty. Your maid is a servant – she is here to assist you until she can no longer. She begs you to step quickly, down the stone stairs into the pit of the passages.
“Jimin, no!” You grip tighter on his forearm as he tries to shrug you off of him. Blood tarnishes your cream colored nightgown as you’re pulled away from Jimin. It must be from those Jimin has fought already. “Come with me!”
Jimin takes your chin in his hand and inspects the distress on your face. Even when rushed, worried about your safety and life, he looks at you like he’s lost in your eyes. The gentle touch of his fingertips feels serene, featherlight even though they’re calloused through the years of combat. 
He’s moving you back into the passageway, gripping the door with his other hand to shut it on you when the moment comes. There’s displeasure spilling out of him only because he is infuriated by the way you stubbornly won’t see the concern for yourself.
“I need to protect the family. This is me protecting you,” he speaks sternly. “Please listen to me, princess,” he exhales slowly. His eyes flicker across your features with tenderness, “I am not losing you. Use the passageways,” he reminds you. “Exit at the stables. I will meet you there. You know which way to go?”
You stare at him dumbfounded at first. Like time is slowing down, but you cannot shake the feeling that you won’t see him again. You don’t feel convinced.
“B-But –”
“Go!” Jimin practically growls out his demand to you. In an instant, his amber eyes shine with a blue ring around his irises. It’s the first time Jimin has ever used that timbre with you, making you jolt away with shock. 
He warns you to watch your step and stay on the correct path toward the stables. Keep close to your maid and stay quiet. He rips off his cavalier shoulder cape, draping it around your shoulders to keep you warm as you descend into the chilly pathways. Jimin closes the door promptly, forcing you to turn with your maid and to escape to safety. Your heart ricochettes inside your chest, pounding erratically as you rush.
Throughout the narrow hallways, dripping with leaking water spouts and cobwebs, you hear the signs of savage wolf growls and barks as your royal guard begin shifting as their last resort. Cries of pain and fighting scare you further as you follow the lead of your maid, wondering how you’ll survive what comes ahead. The thin slippers still on your feet dampen with every hurried step you take as you hold Jimin’s cape tighter against your frame to stay as warm as possible.
“I am not losing you,” replays inside your head and inside your heart.
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Moonlight shines from above as your maid cracks open a hardened rock exitway. You came across many forks in the maze of the castle's passageways, but you remember from your past the correct ways to take. The two of you are at the stables, you can smell the mixture of horse and hay in the air. The area is unhit from the onslaught of violence for now.
“Shall we take a horse?” Your maid suggests as she creeps behind a bundle of stacked hay.
“Jimin said he’ll meet us here,” you remind her. 
The chill of the outside runs straight through your body. You curse to yourself at your poor choice of attire.
Together, the two of you watch the distance of all the violence. You see bloodshed with many reinforcements coming from every side of the castle. The thought of Jimin being caught in this mess sends a shiver down your spine. Wolves – your family's guards – have shifted to their creature form. They’re larger than any wild wolf; standing on all four limbs taller than most humans. 
They’re very swift at responding to the attackers, taking them out one by one. But you know the attackers are fighting against them with poisonous tactics – an advantage to go against such beasts. With these weapons, the werewolves near invulnerability, speed, and strengths are weakened once hit with the toxins. You can already witness it with a few of your guards.
“We’re still inside the castle walls, Princess. We need to get out of here fast,” she insists. Her eyes scan around for an opening, an escape route for the two of you. You’ll have to be fast.
“He knows we are here!” You yell at her in a hushed tone. “I’m not leaving unless it’s with –”
Just as you attempt to finish your sentence, the loud sound of wood snapping through the entrance door interrupts you. Men rush in, manically screaming in an uproar as the flames of their torches begin touching the fodder in the stables. Setting the straw ablaze in a matter of seconds.
You and your maid slouch back into a corner, away from view for as long as you can. Horses neigh with anger, jumping and kicking as the brightness and heat of fire creeps toward them. You cannot fathom the thought of losing these beautiful warhorses as they’re each tied to their own box.
“Release them,” you whisper to your maid before you frantically get up from your position and reach for the first horse.
Your soft hands flick up the lever to the wooden door, opening it up for the horse to run through and stumble toward the exit of the stables.
The maid begs you to stay hidden, but you refuse with stubbornness. In the same breath, you hear a shriek from her as you are in the midst of lifting another lever. The attackers have noticed her and shortly spot you as well.
She looks at you with panic, “Run!”
In seconds, she is being grabbed once again by these aggressors. Forced down with a hard shove as she hits the ground. You shout, scream, and cry at the men who flock over toward her. A pitchfork near you is the first thing you see to use as a weapon. Surely you can scare someone off with the points of the tines. 
A bellowful growl grows from a stampede of three wolves bursting onto the scene. They’re far too fast for your eyes to keep up, seeing flashes of their fur dashing around you to strike your attackers. Their teeth bare as they snarl and bite into the flesh of the men, claws digging through the fabrics and skin.
One wolf is nearly all black, slicked fur making it shine in the night. Another has a warm russet color, speckled with hues of beige but warm under the ember of the fires around you. The last wolf is your wolf – you know him far too well. Brighter shades of light brown are in his face as the rest of his pelt darkens into a deep dark, chocolate color. His amber eyes, now sparked with blue, casts over to you briefly as he takes out an enemy, his paw stepping hard against his chest and pressing down.
It’s like whiplash with how fast the royal guards cleared out the stables as the fire consumes the fixtures around you. Smoke fills the air, rising heavily as thick clouds form. Pieces of the loft areas begin to break and fall as the other roped up horses huff and puff.
The stark black wolf is the one lifting your maid off the ground as it nudges her. She’s wounded, you can tell as red covers the fabric of her left arm. You take a step toward her, wanting to console and help – but in return you are barked at by Jimin. He rushes toward you, his speed frightening you as you backpedal away from the area. He stares hard at you, growling in a low tone as ashes fall behind him.
He’s moving you away, wanting you out of the area. The other two wolves bark in his direction, some form of communication you cannot understand as Jimin glances back and responds with his own call. 
The russet colored wolf jumps toward Jimin as you watch your maid latch onto the black fur of the other. She gives you a sympathetic look, mouthing the words ‘get out of here’ to you.
A large beam from above falls and crashes in the middle of the stables, breaking other fixtures in its path. Ember’s rise from the burning building with a massive gust of wind as you turn your face away from the crash.
“Jimin!” You cough as your arms shield you. Your eyes tickle in pain from the smoke, the fire’s brightness doesn’t help either.
You can feel the brush of fur against you as a heavy body presses into your front. You smell the wilderness immediately as you fall forward, burying your face and arms into Jimin’s coat. He nudges you with his shoulder and a grunt. Somehow able to understand what he’s saying.
Quickly, you pull yourself up along his back like one would do for a horse. Your face remains embedded into his fur as you wrap your arms around his neck, hooking your fists onto his coat to anchor yourself.
You move with the russet colored wolf as he clears out the path ahead of you and Jimin. Taking down any attacker standing in the path to escape. It’s difficult to hold onto a wolf, feeling your limbs tighten around Jimin as hard as you possibly can just to stay on top as he dashes through the terrain.
His goal is to get you out of here safely, remove you from the premises. He brings you farther and farther away from the castle and closer to the woods. The last glimpse you dare to make shows you the image of the russet wolf turning back toward the scorched castle grounds.
You pray for the good safety of everyone. Hope the castle is still together after the royal guard protects and saves the night.
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It’s freezing as Jimin runs through the thicket of the wilderness, deeper than you ever dare to go alone. You keep your head down, pressed into his back as bitter cold breezes over the surfaces of your body that aren't protected by Jimin’s warmth. The nightgown you wear is thin, not topped with layers among layers of fabrics and wiring like a corseted dress would have. Not to mention the tingling burn to your bare feet as the winter air touches them. But he is warm. A heated beast beneath you, emitting a comforting temperature the more your fingers curl into the roots of his bristle fur.
His breath is labored, chest heaving as his limbs carry you fast. Jimin zips through the rough terrain of the earthy woods, jumping and dodging the obstacles in his way. You fear the tightness of your muscles as you cling on to him, feeling the exhaust of your body as they sore.
You’re not sure how long you’ve been a passenger on Jimin’s back. Everything has happened so quickly. It isn’t until you hear the noises of strangers. The padding of snow under Jimin’s paws begins sounding different. Now stepping on hardened ground.
Your eyes blink open as you take in the surroundings passing by. Glowing lights in tapered windows of wooden cabins flash in seconds. Secured doors and moss growth along the sides of several cabin-like housings. 
Jimin leads with a howl, rushing toward the only place he knows will keep you the most protected. He slows his pace as he draws near, beckoning with a warning call for the door to swing open and allow him in. You find yourself entering with him, a soft warmth from a low burning fireplace greets you as the two of you enter.
You feel the way Jimin stumbles, his body catching up with how taxed he must be. The way his shoulders shrug tells you to dismount him as his mouth pants labored breaths. Carefully, you slide until your toes touch the floor below you.
“Jimin?” Your first concern comes out worriedly. Your hands still roam his fur as you notice the warmth of red liquid staining your palms – even pieces of your clothes. It’s enough to make you feel uneasy about the open wounds you fail to find through his pelt.
He’s quick to move from you, tripping over himself as he walks deeper toward the back of the cabin. A low growl rumbles from his chest as a warning, unwanted contact from you.
You take a step to follow him, seeing how hurt he is – it only wrenches your heart tighter. Your eyes grow wider the further he steps away from you, scurrying himself as he barks in the air for help.
A soft pair of hands hold onto your elbow, keeping you from the beast in pain. You snap your head toward the contact, searching for the reason why you’ve been halted.
“Don’t.” A woman with dark, long wavy hair speaks in a low tone. Her skin is aged but glows beautifully. Bundled up in layered clothes, she wears a worried look just like you. But it’s because she is stressed about your concern over the wolf in agony. “He will be alright.”
The door behind her has already been shut tight as the woman urges you to sit on the closest couch. Your eyes flick back to Jimin who continues to pad down the end of the hallway, twisting into a new shape as his body slowly transforms back into a human state. It’s an image you never expected to see, completely magical and out of this world as you catch glimpses of a wolf morphing into man.
His deep groans turn more audible as his real voice is able to break free.
“Wolfsbane –” he curses out into the open as he’s hunched over. He breathes heavily, open mouth catching air for his lungs as his fingers now claw at the bloody abrasion on the left side of his chest.
From your spot on the sofa, you witness Jimin suffering in a fetal position with no clothes. He’s turned to the side, hiding what he can in his vulnerable state. His long hair, usually kept neatly pulled back, falls dramatically across his face. His nose scrunches as his lips pull back to show his seething teeth.
“Jimin!” You begin to stand up, but the woman holds her hands out before you.
“Stay, Princess! Please!” Her voice is soft.
She tries her best to be respectful, honoring your title even in the severity of a situation. “I’m his mother.” She claims before gripping a knitted wool blanket off the back of a chair and rushing over to her son.
You blink, stunned as you process all the movements and information playing out in front of you.
Jimin coughs as his head presses into the floor. You watch in horror the way Jimin’s body rejects the burn of the wolfsbane that entered his system. Jerking and moving in his place as some mystical natured element helps overcome his pain. Jimin’s mother places the blanket over Jimin, shielding him from your innocent eyes. She squats beside him, hand placing over his forehead as his face twists with strain.
“Fight it,” she encourages as she pushes back his bangs to inspect his eyes. They’re reddened on the edges. The infection attacks deeply within him. His blue shiny irises that come out when he taps into his wolf form is stationary, shining brightly as he internally battles the poisonous herb. “Push it out, you can do it.”
You catch him staring at you as he overcomes this annoyance. It’s not enough to be deadly for him, but it is a good amount to weaken his overall state for the time being. His body fights to heal properly, but he’ll be ready soon.
The first initial wave of pain eases on Jimin. You don’t notice it due to the blanket covering his body, but a small pool of tainted blood leaks out of his wound. Spoiled by the wretched poison. It’s what his body needs to do, reject it and remove it entirely from him.
“Can I help in any way?” You stand and step toward him as his panting calms.
“No, no!” Jimin’s mother’s hands shoot out, shooing you. “You don’t need to do anything! His body is healing,” she reassures. “It may not make any sense, but he is going to be good. Just give him some time. Wolves have an accelerated healing power.”
“But –” you begin to counter. You feel helpless, powerless. Your heart hurts from seeing Jimin in such a distraught state. You can’t shake the image out of your head.
“Stop,” you hear Jimin breathing out. His tenor voice aching as his body shivers. “Stay over there,” he begs. “Just give me a second, Princess.”
All you can do is wait. Watch the way the man you care for struggles with himself as his supernatural body convulses and kicks out the vicious wolfsbane as he rapidly recovers. His grunts and groans do nothing to help, making you worry even more. 
When Jimin finally settles, he lays limp on the floor. Relief washes over him as the surging pain seizes and his body begins to feel like normal once again. Sweat has slickened the roots of his hair, surely the rest of his skin expelled other toxins.
He starts to lift himself off the floor, using his arms to push him up to a sitting position first – then enough to stand. He clutches the blanket around him. Holding it tight around his waist and covering his lower region.
“Take your time,” his mother whispers. She, too, stands with him. Using her hands to help guide him if he wavers on his feet. He’s taller than her, but you can tell she’s strong from the way she helps hold her son up.
“I have to go back,” he says to her, but stares at you.
Jimin takes a few tentative steps until he catches the motion easilier. He walks over to you in concern, abandoning the dripped blood on the floorboard from where he once laid. You're shivering in place, not realizing it yourself.
“Mom, would you mind finding something the princess can change into? Clean her up a little as well?”
You waste no time rushing yourself to him regardless of Jimin pleading for you not to. That doesn’t stop the way your arms wrap around his torso, feeling the warmth of his smooth skin as you hold him. Your head curls into his shoulder as his free arm surrounds your back, pulling you against him.
“Please, be good. Back up,” he slowly walks you in his embrace. 
You feel the rumble of his voice through his chest as you press desperately against him, not wanting to let him go just yet. He’s homely like your favorite hiding place back in the castle or the comfort of your bed after a long day of duties. It feels right to be with him as your mind speaks these words of nonsense.
“Don’t leave again,” you beg as your heartstrings twinge with sadness. You think latching onto Jimin even more would be the answer of his choice, but alas it is not. His arm is placing you down on the sofa for you to sit as he kneels on the floor. Even when you try grabbing at him, he politely pushes your hands away.
“Mom,” Jimin calls out as his hands grip the bottoms of your bare feet. He runs his palms across them, feeling how frigid they’ve become. Jimin ignores the way your cold hands try to turn his head to look up at you, stubbornly keeping it down and focused on your toes. When he fails to hear a response, he shouts again, “Mom!”
“Jimin!” You call to get his attention, fingers running through his thick locks to expose his face. Cupping his cheeks doesn’t suffice either, even your attempt to tilt his jaw fails. He isn’t budging from his position.
His mother comes out of another room with an abundant amount of clothes. Each of them look heavy, thick. Enough to hopefully keep you bundled up in the chill of a winter’s night.
Jimin squeezes your feet with his hands, trying to circulate more blood flow as he tries to warm you. He suffers knowing you’re freezing, not in an ideal state. But he can also feel the way your heart pangs with confusion and hurt. He can smell the fear radiating off of your body as you process so much.
“Would you mind changing into these?” His mother comes into your view. She begins placing pieces out in order to dress. Layers ready at your will. “I can wash your nightgown. Rid you of those stains. I can try patching up the tears in your skirt.”
The doleful look in your eyes tells her enough at one glance. She sighs as a tear trickles down the bridge of your nose.
“Why won’t you look at me?” Your voice cracks mid sentence as you stare helplessly at Jimin.
It’s languid the way his eyes flick up to you, shrouded with sadness behind his lashes.
“You’re freezing,” he states.
“I’m more hurt that you won’t let me do anything for you,” you respond with irritation. “I’m fine. You’re not.” You gesture to his exposed chest, muddied with swipes of blood on his left side.
“There’s nothing there anymore. The wound is sealed already. It’s just drying blood.”
He looks down back at your feet, finally noticing his stained hands – how he’s holding you with his own filth. The thought upsets him entirely.
Abruptly, Jimin stands. Turning away from you and rushing over to the fireplace to place more wood in the burning embers. He tightens the blanket around his waist, pacing across the floor of the cabin for anything he thinks you need before he departs.
“Run a bath,” he tells his mother. “It’ll warm her up faster. Then she can change into the clean clothes.”
“I don’t want that,” you speak. “I’ll take the clothes as they are. But Jimin –”
“– I need to go back,” he whips around in his spot. Jimin is fast on his feet, gathering some more blankets and gripping your hand. “My old room is just over here. Make yourself at home. I know this isn’t ideal but it will keep you safe and warm. My mother,” Jimin glances over at her, “She’ll be a great help. Please, take care of the Princess before I return.”
You rip your hand away from Jimin while stubbornly holding your place on the couch. It’s an act you never suspected yourself to do so harshly. The appalled look on your face puzzles Jimin. Makes him look down at you in silence, awaiting for you to speak.
“No,” you stare back. “Why can’t you just stay?”
“I have a duty,” he responds just as fast. “One to serve the royal family.”
“I am the royal family!”
“I am a part of the entire pack fighting for the kingdom right now. I must be with them.”
The frustration causes your blood to boil under your skin. Heat rises to your cheeks as anger takes over. He’s staring you down. Jimin is right after all. But yet again, without him even speaking, you can hear his voice repeat the words ‘that’s selfish of you’. It rattles inside your head as your lips quiver with emotion.
You turn your head, eyes filled with sorrow dropping to your lap. The scolding fire from his bright eyes hurts you deeply. Yet he doesn’t have intentions to upset you, Jimin only wants to protect you.
“Go.”
The single word comes out so cold, so unlike your usual tone. It catches Jimin off guard.
The entire time Jimin’s mother stands in silence, trying to read the room herself as the two of you cast a tense environment. She has no place to utter a single word, not here. For a moment, she shares a cautious glance with her son. Something in her eyes that tells him that he needs to do something – say something.
“Prin –”
“– I do not want to see you.” Your voice sounds meek, on edge of falling over in the pool of emotion laying inside of you. If only he can understand how important you’ve made him in your life. How special he is and the comfort that comes with him when he’s around. Imagining him returning beaten up again bothers you. Thinking he might not come back at all is even worse.
“Just, go.” You command.
“Y/n,” Jimin speaks in a gentle voice. He steps closer to you with a heavy heart, “I’m sorry.” Slowly, he leans down to level his head with yours. It’s alright with him that you refuse to look back. Jimin knows he has your attention regardless. You feel the soft graze of his knuckle run along the edge of your jaw, surprised from the tender touch. “I really am sorry,” he smiles faintly as he leans in just enough to place his plump lips delicately on your temple.
Jimin leaves your side, turns on his heel and swiftly moves out the front door. It’s a rush from the way his body forms back into wolf and his paws press into the ground, carrying him further away from you. He wants to be here for you, but his loyalty lies deep to the guards and your family. Jimin knows you are safe, under the protection of his mother and the community surrounding the cabin. He would never just leave you.
A gust of wind blows in from outside, the chill reminding you how low the temperatures are. Jimin’s mother kindly shuts and locks the door. Silence stills softly in the ambiance of the crackling fireplace.
It breaks you knowing Jimin isn’t staying by your side. The rational side of your brain screams at you, telling you he is doing the right thing. But the emotional soft boundaries you have, that are more tender than a baby bird, weakens the further Jimin is. Like a piece of your heart constantly stripping from you. Cracking and bleeding from unreciprocated love.
The gentle face of Jimin’s mother approaches you, her soft hand places it upon your shoulder to gain your attention.
“Princess,” she begins with a kind tone. “Please know, we’ll do anything to protect you. You’re in a safe place now. My name is Mira. Let’s have you change into something warmer. I can make some tea as well.”
Her words do not stop the slow streams of tears dripping from your face. You wipe away each of them the moment they pass the curve of your cheeks, frustration and heartbreak laying deep within you.
When will he come back, you begin to wonder. Will he come back? Flashes of the ruffians and ruthlessness they project remind you how dangerous they are. What damages have they done with your family's castle? To your precious belongings?
And then it reminds you… You haven’t thought about your family. Your father and siblings, are they safe and sound? Are they escorted off the property by the guards as they clean up the mess of the intruders? How selfish of you, truly, to only think of yourself and Jimin.
Your realization serves you like the small piece of bread and tea served to you on a platter from Mira. It makes you cry more about how childish and foolish your mind is.
“He does love you,” Mira speaks again. Her eyes crinkle with wrinkles as she smiles. “He does the things he does because he loves you.”
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Jimin yearns to return to your side the moment his feet step out of his childhood home. He rushes back to the castle grounds, reconnecting with the king's royal guard and abolishing any trespasser standing in his way. He fought for hours with righteousness and duty, tearing apart men limb from limb as he dodges the poisonous silver weapons laced with a venomous herb. When the time comes that the invasion of hoodlums either retreat or have been eliminated by the brute force of the royal guard – Jimin doesn’t hesitate to rush back to you. 
He’s been given the blessing from his higher-ups. Notified that the castle will be on high alert while the rest of your family has been scattered to their own locations of safety. They too have their own personal guards who stand their grounds and hover their sides. What matters now is that the kingdom is still intact even after such a brutal attack. They are not overthrown and they will continue on as supreme rulers.
As for any hostages held from the invaders, they will be judged appropriately and prodded for questions and answers before the royal court. Jimin has seen this many times, but never to this extent. This is the first time in his line of duty that the castle was attacked – but he is thankful for the outcome.
He wouldn’t know what would have happened if it turned out different.
His chest heaves with heavy breaths as he slows his pace the moment his eyes lay on the door to his mother’s house. Inside he knows you are waiting, impatiently he assumes. But seeing your face again will give him a sense of relief. A calming vortex that sinks deep inside his body and warms his nerves.
Jimin’s blood pumps in his ears as he calls out to his mother in the form of telepathy – a unique trait wolves have with one another. An inner circle of connections that allows wolves to speak to other wolves. Mira is ready by the door, twisting the handle and allowing Jimin a swift entrance into the house.
He tries to step quietly as his heavy wolf form causes the wood flooring to creak under his steps. His pads resound a soft thud as he walks. At first, he expects to walk straight to his room as he remembered he offered you his place to rest. But as his nose picks up your immediate scent, he realizes that you’re still resting on the couch right in front of the fire.
“She hasn’t moved,” Mira murmurs under her breath. Jimin’s mother stayed up all hours he was gone, watching and keeping you company. “I’ve given her plenty of tea and washed her face with a heated cloth. I’ve kept adding more wood to the fire to help. Even in her sleep, she still shivers. She may have hypothermia,” she warns.
He wouldn’t put it past him if this is the case. You were never made for enduring February winters in just a nightgown after all. Barefooted may he add.
Jimin walks over you, his nose sniffing at your skin to seek any discomfort your body may radiate. You lay there bundled up as much as you can under heavy fabrics of wool and fur. Jimin smiles to himself fondly as he sees the way you tuck your chin into the blanket and cover your nose.
A tentative look is shared between Jimin and his mother before he nudges his head against your arms.
You rouse from your slumber momentarily and your immediate reaction is to tighten your body and move to a more comfortable position. However, Jimin doesn’t allow you. He nudges you again and this time he digs his nose between the crack of your arms, prying them open so he can slot his head through and force your arm around his neck.
Mumbling in your sleep, you groan at the annoyance of being woken up. But when you feel the soft bristles of fur against your face and the undeniable warmth coming from them, you cling onto whatever is pressing against you.
It wakes you further. Enough to make you register enough to know Jimin is in your arms right now. Your fingers cling onto him tightly, screwing them into knots as you inhale deeply into the side of his neck. He smells like the frozen forest mixed with burning embers; the smell of smoke clogging between his roots.
His warmth is what reminds you of home. It forces happiness to leak out of your eyes as a warm tear drips onto his fur the more you bury your face into him. His movement forces you to wake up, urging you with a tug to get off the couch and follow him.
Leisurely, you hang from him while he ushers you to the other room – his room. Your feet stumble as the two of you pass Mira. You don’t care how clumsy you look, you’re just happy to have Jimin back.
“Jimin,” his mother tries speaking in a hushed tone. “Remember who you are to her.”
He doesn’t stop his stride as he enters his old bedroom with you nearly hanging off of him. It’s upkept well thanks to his mom. Nothing moved or changed over the years. With a few more nudges and suggestive pushes, he has you falling into place upon the mattress. It’s low to the ground, easy for him to step on it even in wolf form and lay comfortably as you attach yourself to his back. 
This form is undoubtedly the warmest. And with his wolf form he serves as a natural furnace for you. He doesn’t mind the way your fingers dig into his fur or the way your cold body presses desperately against his. He allows anything that will warm you up.
His eyes meet his mother’s as she leans in to shut the bedroom door. Words and feelings cannot describe his unfair bond to you – but with werewolves, they have a mutual understanding of how things work.
Jimin groans with a huff before putting his head down on the bed. He stays awake, alert, and listens to the sounds and conversations running through his head. Even when the threat is over, he still stays guard. Ready to pounce on anything that comes toward you.
For now, you may sleep comfortably. Jimin will be able to tell you later about the results of the castle and your family. 
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You’re greeted by coldness as you toss and turn. The fresh chill pricks your cheeks, jolting your nerves to wake when you want nothing more than sleep. Chirps of wild birds sing outside of the window that casts a dull ray of sun into the room. It still looks dark out. There’s also an ache in your joints and muscles, particularly in your neck.
Perhaps you slept awful,  used to having your luxury linens and perfectly fluffed pillows. Instead you spent the night balled up, tight, against the only thing that holds heat.
The fire isn’t what saves you from the brisk cold of winter. It is the tender bristles of a wolf’s fur that hordes blissful heat, warmer than a copper pan filled with rocks warmed at the edge of a fire.
But you are not welcomed with that same softness of Jimin’s fur anymore. When you turn again, you realize you press against the smooth surface of his broadened back. Black ink decorates down his spine in the phases of the moon as your eyes focus from the haze of sleep. Does it make any sense to see the man you adore, shirtless with his back to you in the same bed? 
Absolutely not.
Your clogged head tries to clear the fog of confusion as you edge away from Jimin. He’s tucked under the covers, just as you. His chest rises and falls slowly, in a deep sleep. He’s more exhausted than you, his body fought all night. It makes sense he finally collapsed into a resting state; relaxed and dare you say, delicate. The branded ink shines subtly as his skin, miraculously still smooth, feels even warmer under your tender fingertips. Slowly, you trace invisible patterns onto his skin, mesmerized by the way he doesn’t pull away from you.
You feel guilty for snuggling up closer to him, knowing very well he isn’t in a conscious state for him to put you back in your place like all the other times. But you feel drawn in and addicted to his warmth and security in such a tender position.
Jimin inhales and exhales deeply, shifting his head when he feels your fingers tickle the nape of his neck. He shifts in his sleep, moving his body enough to force you to freeze. His hand reaches back, swatting away your hand as if it is a dainty bug crawling on him. But he realizes it’s nothing but a hand – your hand – and instead, he grips it. Pulling it around him and stretching your arm across his torso so that he can hold it against his chest. Jimin curls himself in a fetal position, dragging you flush against his back.
“Stop tickling me,” he murmurs in a groggy voice. He huffs out a small burst of air, humor laced with it.
Your forehead presses into his spine, a small smile creeping up on your lips.
“I’m sorry. I didn’t mean to.”
Silence falls once again except for the subtle sounds of Jimin’s breathing. You could stay like this forever if you were able to. Ignore all responsibilities of life and stay with Jimin. Deep down, you secretly wish this. Having his protection and solace, bringing you solitude and clarity. You know that he is all you will ever need. He’s been exactly everything you need him to be in your life, even when times get tough and he guides you to do something you’re stubbornly against. It’s all for your well-being. Your overall happiness. Jimin has never steered you down the wrong path; even if it’s the path you wouldn’t pick yourself.
He is strong in many ways you aren’t. Rational and accountable. You know he will do everything in his power to let you have the perfect life and he will never leave you.
This feeling of unfulfillment with your heart always reminds you how a large piece of him belongs there. No matter how much room you make for your family and potential suitors that come your way. Nothing will fill the undeniable love you have toward your personal royal guard.
“I’m sorry,” you repeat. This time with a different reason.
You’re apologizing for yourself. For the position you put yourself in even though you never win the fight with your emotions. How you cannot control this bond between the two of you and how you cannot change the way you feel toward him. You know you could never be with a wolf, let alone your own personal guard. The years between you doesn’t matter either. Jimin still looks as you first remember him, minus the added tattoos, scars and array of hair styles he’s sported. He has always been your guard, a figure to look up to, a brother, and a best friend without being them at the same time.
The connection you feel with Jimin is unexplainable. A natural magnetic draw you feel. A compelling force screaming at you that this – he – is exactly what your mind, body, and soul needs.
“Get some more rest,” Jimin urges as he squeezes your hand a little bit tighter.
“I am being honest with you,” you declare.
“So am I,” Jimin’s sleepy voice seeps through.
Your small tiff stirs Jimin awake. He turns slowly, still maintaining his hold on your hand as he faces you. The small puff of his cheeks shows you how tired he must be as his eyes remain closed. Jimin leans in, pushing your head into his chest as he rests his face into the top of your head.
“Rosemary,” he speaks out loud. He inhales slowly, admiring the sweet scent of the herb used to wash your hair every night. “It suits you so much.”
You feel a flush of warmth coursing through your body in such an intimate position. You have never been this close or tangled with Jimin like this before. There’s faint scars across his chest from what you can see, memories of past battle wounds that cut too deep perhaps.
“Are you hurt?” You question. Wondering how his body never correctly healed these specific marks.
“Not anymore,” he hums as he pulls you in tighter.
You can hear the faint beating of his heart as you twist your head to lay against his chest. It thumps calmly, like a lullaby whispering in your ear.
“Why are you here?” You dare to question. 
A heavy thought that’s been weighing on your mind for far too long. You want to thank him for welcoming you into his solitude and keeping you warm throughout the night. Even then, you hardly remember moving from the couch to this bed. Jimin sharing a bed with you doesn’t make any sense to you. Especially how he rests with no clothes on; assumingly you believe as the blankets cover more than your eyes can see.
“Warmth,” he responds. “I had to keep you warm. But I fell asleep.”
“Why are you still here then…?”
Jimin exhales deeply. He still rests as much as he can even with your quizzing questions.
“I’m pretending I’m still dreaming.”
“Dreaming?” You blink.
“Yes.” Jimin’s hand gingerly raises to stroke the side of your head, brushing off any stray locks. His palm is so warm against you, the contact heating you instantly. “A dream. Would you like me to leave?”
“No,” you blurt out faster than you expected. “I just don’t understand,” you try leaning back to look at his face.
“Princess,” he tsks. “How can I explain this?” He questions himself more than you. Jimin places his lips on your forehead and rests them there as he contemplates his words. “A wolf cannot be mixed with a royal. But you desire a wolf. And a wolf desires you.” He hesitates with the next sentence that leaves his mouth. “However, it will never be allowed. And thus… a dream.”
“You dream of this?” You ask, stunned.
“Don’t you?” He huffed a laugh. “I know you do. There are times that I can read it all over your pretty face. I can feel it too.”
“I-I,” you feel flustered. Your feathers fluffed every which way as Jimin speaks so carelessly of such a sensitive subject.
“I know how you feel for me,” he states. “I’m sorry you do. Even when I try to keep you on the right path, show you your responsibilities and guide you to your title's destiny… you found a sanctuary in me.”
Jimin continues to stroke your face with his thumb, his nose breathes out hot air against your forehead. He caresses you tenderly, holds you dear to him as if he is afraid to let you go.
“I’ve… I have always loved you,” you confess. Swallowing thickly as your throat closes up with emotion. Jimin allows you to slide your arms around him again.
“I know. I can feel everything you feel,” he sighs. “Your happiness. Your sadness. That painstaking broken heart every time you’re forced to live your reality.”
He smiles softly against your skin, peppering small kisses where his lips rest.
“I also feel the way you can’t control your emotions. How you constantly battle with what’s right and wrong. How not a single person draws your attention more than I do. I can’t really explain how I can feel these things,” he tilts your head to look down into your eyes. “It won’t make any sense.”
In the soft morning light, his features are more admirable. His skin glows beautifully, like a natural highlight illuminating off of the edges of his face. Jimin cracks open his eyes, only slightly, to peer down at your innocent expression. A face he’s seen for many years after being scolded or pressed for answers. The beauty in his eyes, that crisp amber hue, shifts a shade darker as they land on your parting lips.
“Jimin, I don’t want this to be a dream.”
You’re honest about it. The aura of intimacy is fueling the room so purely, it’s nearly smothering. Jimin allows his walls to break down for you to enter; let’s you in his space even when it goes against everything the two of you know.
His thumb flicks your bottom lip, feeling the soft flesh under his digit. He can feel the natural draw, how his body is aching with a tantalizing need to kiss you. To have you, just for now, before he must go back to reality.
“I’ll do anything for you,” he declares as he looks down at you sadly. “I devoted myself the very first moment I saw you.” His breath shakes as he lets out a breath he was holding.
“Princess,” he begins, the small curve of his lips upturning. He knows this is dangerous, it’s not allowed. Years of pining and rejecting you, fearing the system of the world and the way of life, he’s taking his one and only opportunity to be selfish. A thing you know so very well. Jimin leans down, lips nearly brushing yours, “Please forgive me.”
Your lips press together in a gentle embrace. He pours his unannounced love for you with this kiss; all those years of pent-up, hopeless desires and unfathomable attachment finally burst through with the only way he can show you. 
There’s no way of telling how long your kiss lasts; and eternity sounds like an understatement. Your breath hitches in your throat, surprised by the act and realism of Jimin – the man you’ve grown to love throughout all these years – has committed such a sinful, yet delightful, treason for the sake of his own greed. The same act you do not disgust, appall, or dislike. You greet it, after a few moments of shock, with happiness. A passion of feeling what you pined for all this time. Acceptance, understanding, and need.
Jimin’s warm fingers run along the side of your face and down the length of your arm. “Pretend it’s just a dream.” He smiles in between kisses.
A subtle tear breaks the brim of your eye as you capture Jimin in a passionate, breathtaking kiss. You bring him closer, wrapping your arms around his neck and tasting his tongue in your mouth. 
When it’s just a dream, you’re allowed to cross the lines of right and wrong. Do the things you want to do, impulsively or not. That’s why you don’t bother to wait when you desperately cling to him, tangling your soft fingers through his messy hair. You feel the way Jimin presses himself into you, not a care of his royal guard status or what your title is. He brings his love out to another being – you.
You feel the gentle pull of his hands at the lining of your padded clothes. There’s so much keeping you bundled, but he’s sure he can keep you warm with his body. His hands roam under the fabrics, feeling the touch of the soft skin of your hip. He skirts his hand up your back, pressing his palm onto you to drag you into him.
“Are you sure?” You question him as if you’re being fooled. Tricked into thinking this truly is a dream and not something you will remember.
“I’ve never wanted something so desperately,” he admits with no embarrassment. “So many times I’ve had to tell you to look away from me. Entertain these other suitors… It hurts. But I know I will always be there for you even if your feelings aren’t as they are now. Even if you didn’t feel for me. I can’t help that. I’m bound to you.”
Your eyes roam the expanse of his body that you can see against the pale sheets of his old mattress. His words send glee to your heart. Had you known this hurts him as much as it hurts you, you would do something about it. Find a way to make something work. There must be a way.
“I’m sorry for being so distant with you in regard to your emotions. But, I do it to protect you. I’m not right for you.” Jimin whispers as his lips reconnect with yours. A carnal desire brewing deep inside of him, no doubt inside of you too.
“Jimin,” you whimper against his mouth. The crack in your voice is threatening to snap.
“Tell me to stop.”
“Don’t,” you sniffle. 
Your head is a clutter of sensitive emotions ransacking your brain. Clouding your headspace as if you are in a daydream. But you accept it. Allow this illusion, real or not, to be as real as it can ever get.
You accept him and this moment of time.
The heat of Jimin’s body keeps you warm from the chilled air outside of the sheets. Slowly, he shifts to have you laying on your back as his body crawls over you. Jimin plants soft and wet kisses down your jawline to a sweet spot on the side of your neck, multitasking with the buttons of your thick clothes.
The second he is able to free portions of your body from the garments, his skin slides over yours. Touching every delicately smooth surface of your body. Rising goosebumps through each sway of his fingers across every inch. You melt into his touches, a quiet whimper and pleasant hum escaping your nose.
“You’re so beautiful,” he comments as he levels his head with yours. He takes a moment to peer down at your morning face, admiring the way you look even with a rough night. Jimin remembers your eyes the most. How genuine and curious they are. He reminisces about the first time; when a shot of an electrifying spark penetrated his entire being because of his imprinting nature… how it connected him to you for as long as you live. “I will never lose you.”
Jimin can feel the way your body speaks to him. How together all your nerve endings and atoms feel as if they join like a perfect puzzle. It leads him further to your core, trailing his hand tentatively as he waits for a clear sign for him to continue.
He presses himself gently against you, showing you his growing need for you. The hardened appendage pokes you like a soft tapping on a door, trying to be as polite as possible.
You take his face in your hands, pulling him down for another emotional kiss. You nod to him, giving him the clearing to roam your most secretive bits.
After removing the access clothing from your legs, his fingertips glide up your inner thighs. He shivers when he inhales suddenly, taking in the small whiff of your scent. Instinctively, and almost casually, you bend your knee to allow more access for him.
Jimin’s fingers ghost over your core, brushing against the edges before feeling the slick heat from your lower lips. He teases you at first but not on purpose. Jimin swallows nervously, fighting with his body to remind himself to take things slow.
He takes your bottom lip between his teeth, pulling at the plump piece of flesh as his index finger runs down your slit. You shutter with a breath of hot air blowing out, enjoying the foreign touch.
Unsure what to do with your hands, you begin to run them down his hard chest to mimic the similar style of approach he does on you. Though you’re halted the moment you hit his navel by his hand.
“Allow me to focus on you,” he requests in a soft tone. He raises your knuckles to his mouth where he plants a chaste kiss to them.
He suggests for your hands to remain away as he descends down the valley of your breasts. Each tender kiss he leaves to your feverish skin in the commute to your lower region has you squirming. You hoist the blankets over your body as Jimin disappears underneath them, taking the heat too. He’s able to maneuver skillfully between your legs, slotting himself neatly as you spread them wider.
You don’t get to see the way Jimin licks his lips when his eyes focus on your core for the first time. How your scent hits his nose at full force, reminding him how beautifully wet you’re becoming with the tension built up around you. His finger returns to you, sliding down your slit and nudging against your clit. It causes you to jolt, instinctively closing your legs around him as much as possible. But he keeps them open with his hands and body as he moves closer.
Peeking under the covers, you see the dark hair of Jimin sinking between the junction of your thighs. You capture the scene, branding it in your memory the moment Jimin’s mouth abruptly comes down on to your clit. You cry out, gripping the blankets in hard fists as his tongue languidly flicks over your sensitive bud as his finger teases your entrance.
“Shh,” he tries to tame you when he inserts his finger into you. You clench tightly, shift your legs even more as your body adjusts to Jimin.
He’s wondering what you’ll feel like if he inserts another, if it’ll pull another whimper and a moan from you. And he has to; to spread your entrance wider and stretch your walls open enough to allow him inside. Prepare your body for the intrusive thoughts bleeding into his mind of your body shaking under him with pleasure.
Jimin curls his fingers once he adds a second one into the mix, slowly pumping them in you at a steady pace as his lips caress your clit. The tip of his tongue flicks your bud so dangerously, it makes you cry out even louder and begins to disturb the silent winter morning air.
His free hand comes down to your waist to stop your hips from bucking into him. Jimin releases his mouth from you and calms his fingers as he hushes you once again.
“Quiet, Princess. Please.”
“Jimin, I-I’m-” You pant softly. Your chest shakes with the rise and fall and intense pounding of your heart.
“Don’t be sorry,” he interjects. Jimin slides himself up your body again while still securing his fingers inside your core. “I know it’s hard to not be loud.” He places a kiss to your cheek before finding your mouth, the taste of you still lingering on his plump lips. Gently, he adds a third finger into your entrance and captures your whine with a sealed kiss.
He uses this moment to experimentally widen your walls with the scissoring effect of his fingers. Fighting off the impulsive clench your body naturally does. When his thumb presses into your clit your body jumps.
Your hands rush to his head, combing through his hair as you fight to anchor yourself on something.
Jimin winces from the strength and harsh pull, but he doesn’t let it bother his actions. Instead, he is kissing your neck again as his hand wraps around your back. He lifts you up like it’s easy until you’re straddling his lap, legs still parted wide for him. Jimin removes his fingers from you, allowing him to push you closer against his hardness. The contact makes his neglected member flinch with excitement.
Your cheeks prick with sparks of warmth as you look Jimin in the eyes again. Both completely naked and in each other's own embrace. Your hot slick presses against his shaft and Jimin cannot help but use his hand to push you into him again.
The blankets have fallen around the two of you, leaving Jimin’s strong muscles to hold you upright on top of him and exposed for him and only him.
“You can’t tell anyone…” he begins as his lips lock with yours. “What happens here must stay here.”
“But what if I don’t want that?” You ask, catching your breath in between kisses.
“Want and need are two different things.”
“I want both of those though,” you exclaim. “I want and need you, Jimin.”
He silences you again, but this time with his tongue. He dives deep into your mouth, groaning with the taste of you that excites him.
“Don’t ever speak of this,” he reminds you. “You mean more to me than you can ever imagine. You’re special to me, Y/n. You will always have me.”
Your heart tightens in your chest as you hear his sincere words. Relief is an understatement. The reassurance and verbal notice of Jimin’s confession is enough to send you to cloud nine. His loyalty and dedication to your family's name isn’t the only thing he cares for. The importance of you and how you are something more to him sends your heart into eternal bliss. Maybe all it took is to finally hear it from the source.
“I’ve always loved you,” you declare as if Jimin never knew this himself. 
He nods, leaning in to capture another kiss from you as your hands tugs on his shoulders. Your mouths move together so perfectly, reminding you how you want nothing more than to do this for the rest of your life. Lightly, your clit brushes against his hardened and untouched dick. The sensation of how close you are to it sends excitement through your body, arousing you more as you desperately rock against him for more stimulation with his help. Your slick drips along his lap, making the glide easier for you.
You admire the tip of his cockhead pointing up toward you, silently requesting to be touched.
“Help me,” you whisper as your legs try to help raise you above him.
Jimin positions his cock when you’re hovering over him. Your arousal drips teasingly over him, dressing the mushroom head of his tip in a shiny coat. He breathes out a strangled breath as the curse word ‘shit’ runs out of his lips. 
Slowly, you drop down on Jimin’s cock. Allowing him to stretch you open as the first inches penetrate you. He holds you up, allows you to sink down at your own pace as both your mouths open with pleasurable surprise. A silent gasp leaves the two of you breathless as you sit flush against him, ignoring any prickling pain as your walls flutter around his cock. Squeezing and unsqueezing rigorously as your head tosses back with eyes screwed shut. Jimin groans with a string of incoherent words, muffled by the way he presses his lips into the side of your neck.
“Oh,” you whimper. 
Knees already threatening to buckle and morph into jelly, your hands hold onto Jimin’s sturdy shoulders when you look down between the two of you. There’s fascination running through you as you watch the way your breasts rub against his chest each time your body moves down his; watching the way he disappears inside of you and filling you up.
The two of you moan in unison as you experimentally roll your hips into him. Jimin’s fingers tighten around your thighs, jerking his hips up to meet yours. He keeps a leisurely pace with you as he wishes nothing but to make you feel pleasurable. You can feel the way your orgasm slowly builds within you as you hold Jimin’s head closer against your neck. A desperate way of holding onto something while you begin to tremble with sensitivity.
“Is it too much?” He questions as he holds you impossibly closer to his body.
You breathe deeply, clutching his cock with your walls.
“No,” you choke out. “I need more.”
Jimin pulls you off of him to greet your face with his. He lays you down expertly, letting your body rest soft against the mattress again. Jimin is able to hook his arm around one of your legs and gently lifts it higher, testing the new angle and watching the way your face contorts with pleasure. 
You cry out his name as you feel his cock run across a specific spot inside of you, making your toes curl and back arch. The sparks in your body flying like lightning in the sky.
There’s a tightness in your stomach that shoots down to your lower region, alerting you of your approaching orgasm. Jimin notices from the way you shake with each thrust he gives. He holds your legs wide, allowing deeper access to push into you as his abdomen flexes every time his body bangs into yours.
“Like this?” He breaths out, a glimpse of blue shining from his eyes.
“K-keep… Y-yes,” you moan, feeling him hit every mark with this new angle.
Jimin lowers himself down to catch your lips with his, closing your mouth and muffing your noises to the best of his abilities. He absolutely loves hearing the sounds of your whimpers and pleasure, but he’s not trying to allow everyone else to hear them.
Another quick and particular movement of Jimin’s hips has you coming undone beneath him, bucking your hips up to match his thrusts as you squeeze tight around him. You feel the way your nails dig into his shoulders as you shake uncontrollably as Jimin continues to thrust through your orgasm. The sounds of your bodies colliding heightens with squelching noises, your dripping arousal coating his entire pelvis and leaking onto the sheets below.
With a few more sharp thrusts, Jimin pulls out of you and spills his seed onto your stomach. Dressing your smooth skin with strings of milky residue. You catch the ending bit, watching the way his cum spurts out of his cockhead as Jimin presses his pelvis down, using both him and you to squeeze his slick-hardened cock.
Jimin moans with you, still molding your lips together as he holds you close to him. When the two of you calm down from the euphoric sensations, he places his forehead against yours. He looks down at you with soft and serene eyes. Filled with love and adoration. This new sense of energy and vulnerability flows through him.
It’s happiness he shares with you when you both shyly smile at another. Ignoring all the heated labor breathes and dampened hairlines. You get lost in his eyes, wishing that the crisp amber coloring is the solution to all your worries and problems. And in some ways – they are.
“I love you.”
Jimin speaks calmly as he declares his emotions for you. His lips press into yours once more to seal his statement.
You can’t help but look up at him with watery eyes. You want to burst into a full blown cry when you see the way his eyes glisten too, but you don’t. Not wanting to spoil the moment of sincerity for either of you.
“I love you too,” you respond as you brush strands of fringe away from his softening face. It’s almost long enough to tuck behind his ear, which you scowl when you watch the piece fall right back in his face.
You share a soft chuckle with him as he moves slowly, making sure to not spread the mess on your stomach everywhere.
“I’ll clean us up and we can go back to resting for a bit.”
“Okay,” you smile softly. Your hands begin to cover yourself the further Jimin pulls away from your body. 
Jimin is quick to find a feasible cloth from the corner of the room and just as fast to return to you on the bed. He wipes you off first, as he should, before cleaning himself. He kneels down on the mattress as you try to subtly admire his entire naked body. Realizing he is still so unfairly beautiful without the suited armor and clothing he usually wears.
“I should have you know, now that you’re awake…” he huffed a laugh. Jimin slides himself under the covers, meeting your body with his. His arm crosses over your torso, hand running down the other side of you until he pulls you close by the waist. “Your family is safe. We defeated the threat last night and your castle will undergo some reconstruction from the damages. But everything is maintained again. I’m sure we will have to return within the day.”
The news makes you happy. The outcome could have been far worse in many ways. But hearing these words from Jimin is comforting. It makes you proud and grateful for him. You aren’t sure what the future will bring. How this dreamy secret must never be spoken about. What this could all mean now. But what you do know, is that he loves you too, and that is enough for now.
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Moodboard credit: @/kth1
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© 2023 All rights reserved under @kth1​ - do not copy, repost, modify, edit, or translate any of my work without my direct consent. This TUMBLR and AO3 are the ONLY places my fics are posted.
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yoongsisbae · 1 year
Text
Spring Day Still with You | JJK
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You ran away from the cold and Jungkook ran with you, warming each other’s hearts. But within the cycle of life, there is death, and as spring blooms, the blood still lays soaked in the dirt. You ran and they chased.
hybrid!Jungkook x reader. fantasy AU
Hey reader, I am back with another story! I know I usually update sooner, so much stuff has happened in my life to “slow me down”, but hopefully this makes up for it! Anyways, enjoy this unofficial official sequel to Not a Creature was Stirring aka Y/N and JK being fluffy and cute and then taking on his bros like the ultimate power couple :D
Warnings: horror elements, blood, gore, violence, monsters, unwanted kisses/scenting, smut, knotting u.u, breeding kink, exhibitionism, predator/prey, “catch me”
Word Count: 15k
-🌑-
Jungkook doesn’t remember how he became a beast. 
But he remembers when he first became human.
It was in Spring, when he reached twenty years of age. 
One morning he woke up without fur, terrified of his new weakened body. He wandered his forest, lost and confused. He never had a family, he never had anyone who taught him what he was. 
A lone wolf. 
Jungkook grew up not knowing anything other than loneliness, hungry nights without any kills and mornings waking up in a panic, running away from animals and humans alike, not understanding how powerful he truly was. He spent evenings hiding, jittery, scared. Even though he was only a pup, his form resembled a large wild wolf, a predator. 
Jungkook’s kind were meant to dominate the land, hunt animal kind and human kind and prey on everything in between. Jungkook didn’t know, he knew of nothing except survival.
Jungkook grew and became monstrous. He didn’t have to hide anymore, he didn’t have to run, and no longer went hungry at night. But inside, his loneliness ate him alive instead. 
His kind were not meant to exist alone, even though Jungkook did not remember what happened to make him an outcast, he knew deep down how abnormal it was for him to be without a pack, without a family.
By chance he found others like him. 
At least, that’s what he believed... 
At his weakest moment, wandering aimlessly, wishing for a better existence or perhaps no existence at all, he became human. 
It was something that happened to all of his kind eventually, but he was never taught that, never shown how to utilize his powers, and Jungkook was once again terrified and alone and small. 
Jungkook was found by a young boy out hunting with his father. It was actually their luck that they did not stumble upon Jungkook in his beast form, for both Jungkook and the pair of men. 
And finally Jungkook learned something...
When the old man rushed to his side, took off his hunting coat and gave it to Jungkook, when the boy helped him to his feet and Jungkook walked on two legs for the first time, and they took him back to their home, he learned about living life as a young human man. 
He was shy, Jungkook did not understand how to live like a human, barely understanding how to live like a beast. But they gave him kindness. 
Kindness, he also learned, was always punished in the end.
Jungkook was never taught the mechanics of his transformation, he thought this new body was what he was always meant to become, had given him a way to finally not be alone. He stayed human for days, months, years…he did not understand what he truly was. 
He learned their language, their customs, he helped the father who in his old age was slowing down; he became friends with the son, and finally had a home. Jungkook slowly let down his walls.
Eating fresh caught fish at a table with kind strangers who treated him like one of their own, Jungkook smiled and felt a sense of peace wash over him, a happiness now that he was not alone.  
It was the calmness, an acceptance within him, that triggered his second transformation.
It was a calmness before a terrible storm.
When that father and son first stumbled upon Jungkook, scared and wandering alone in the woods, they were not the only ones who had found him.
But unlike a man, a predator hid in the shadows, stalked its target, unseen and unheard, always learning, always observing. Because a predator knew when to strike at the perfect moment.
So when Jungkook, unable to control himself, transformed, it was an instantaneous reaction so quick he will never know who attacked first.
Was it him, with his senses so heightened once again, his instincts to end the looming danger so strong that overtook all of his reason?
Or was it the father and son, so fearful of his beastly form, their once kind eyes now looking upon him with contention? Jungkook doesn’t know, but he has always blamed himself nonetheless.
The home he had found was destroyed in a flash of fur and bloodshed, the people he grew to care for turned on him before he could grasp what he had done. And Jungkook, broken again, transformed back to human and believed he was alone once more, now by his own blood-stained hands. 
Standing in destruction, he found a truth within himself that he was more than a scared animal or a weak human, he realized that he was a monster.
With their blood dripping from his hair, his hands, staining his skin and the rancid metal taste of what used to be kindness covering his lips, he hated what he was.
He cried, devastated at what happened, wishing he too laid in a pile of bones and limbs with them. And then overcome, he felt his arms and legs stretch and break and reform again.
He howled.
He thought he was alone. 
But they had been watching him all this time. Waiting.
And they pounced. 
A group of men circled him, and even though he could have torn them to shreds, he curled into himself, tried to lick away the blood tangled in his fur and whined and wretched. 
He did not understand his own power, but they did. 
They saw how massive and eclipsing he was, they saw his potential even in his patheticness. How useful he could be to them one day. 
The leader walked forward, and did something Jungkook never expected to witness. He transformed too, instantly becoming a beast just like him. His eyes red and glowing, pierced into Jungkook with an understanding, that Jungkook did not have to give up just yet. His fangs pulled at Jungkook’s nape, ordering him to move. Jungkook whimpered, then howled. And to his surprise, he was met with six other howls. 
The men were gone, it was now only a den of beasts.
So they took him back into the woods. And because Jungkook had nowhere else to go, he went.
And he learned more, he learned what it was to be beastly.
That was nearly eighty years ago.
-🌖-
“Ow!”
Jungkook frowns, “Nothing happened.”
“Was something supposed to happen?” You rub your shoulder, huffing. You sit with Jungkook on the steps of your cabin. 
He’s cute in the way he looks at you, eyes wide and inquisitive. “I thought it might trigger your transformation, getting hurt.”
You roll your eyes, your irises already dulled back to your natural color. You pull your legs into your body, leaning your chin on your knees, and look toward the landscape, bright and sunny, inches of white snow slowly melting in the sunlight. 
‘Last night....what happened last night,’ you wonder.
There are deep scratches etched into the wood of the cabin walls from yesterday’s fight. The wind’s howls still echoed inside of you.
Another howling, terrifying; a growling, echoed in your thoughts too.
A twig snapped you out of your spiraling thoughts. Everything was now calm and peaceful. Everything except you. Jungkook stares at you, knees knocking into your own.
‘What happened?!’ You tried to piece it together, but it was lost. You only had a series of memories that barely made sense, that felt like a dream, or what more adequately could be described as nightmarish.
Red eyes staring right into yours, a wet slimy snout so close to you, long sharp fangs barely missing your skin, snowflakes that seemed like they stood still in the air as you moved, and a desire inside you to...kill-
You can’t stay here anymore! And Jungkook? He can’t stay here, no, you won’t leave him, but can you really leave this place...together? Should you?
How are you going to explain Jungkook to your friends and family? And there was another question piecing itself inside you. What were you going to do about the undeniable energy coursing through your body, the buzzing warmth from within you that you can’t comprehend, the freezing air that feels refreshing on your skin... 
“Explain what happened again. What do you mean I was still human?”
Jungkook wishes he had answers to give you, the one who could give him answers he couldn’t risk asking. “You still looked human. Your hair was longer,” he plays with your finger tips, examining each nail, “and your nails and teeth were sharper, but you still looked like you.”
His large eyes stare at you, remembering, awe-like, “You were fast, faster than all of us. You really don’t remember anything?”
You felt dizzy. Your head wasn't spinning, you weren't off balance, it felt like the lightheadedness you get after singing, too much air, too much light, too much, it was all too much. “No...I-I’m sorry-” you stand up, turning away.
Jungkook pulls you back and into a kiss, surprising you, his strong arms wrapping around you, his smell engulfing you. Has he always smelled so enticing?
Jungkook pulls away, perplexed. “No, that didn’t work either,” he hums. 
You pout, his kiss had silenced your worries until he reminded you once more. “We need to leave, before they come back,” you say resolutely. “We can’t stay here.”
“Okay, are you sure?”
“I...Yes.” You take a deep calming breath. “Yes, I can’t stay here, Jungkook. I have to go back,” you say, sad and weary.
Jungkook stands with you, his hand grasping onto yours. “Okay. Let’s go.”
You can’t help but smile. And he smiles too.
-
You pace through the cabin one last time, making sure nothing was left behind, steps heavy on the cabin floor as you walk quicker than usual. “We’ll have to find our own way back to the ranger’s post.” Jungkook nods, trepidation clear on his features, yet he was willing to do what you asked. 
You massage your temples while looking over your luggage, belongings that remind you there was a world waiting for you past this cabin and these woods. A job you had to get back to, relationships you had to mend, a life you had to pick up the pieces of to keep moving forward. 
But you didn’t want to leave. Everything feels so inconsequential now. You catch Jungkook’s beautiful brown eyes following you around and you feel scared to leave the security of the cabin that had become such a safe haven to you both in such a short amount of time.
“What if it happens again and I can’t remember again?” You whisper, shuddering at the thought.
Jungkook looks just as confused and conflicted as you feel inside. He reaches for you, holding you close. “I’ll be there with you.”
-🌖-
“What’s that?”
“Electric Teapot.”
“What’s this?”
“A rice cooker.” You lean against Jungkook’s back, wrapping your arms around his lean torso. “Any other questions?”
He lifts his arm so your head peeks under it. “How are you feeling?”
“The same,” you shrug, “maybe hungrier,” you laugh. “Want me to show you how to use that?” You point to your microwave. 
Jungkook looks at the appliance and scrunches his nose in disapproval. “No.” 
You giggle, pulling him through your home. The journey back to the ranger’s post went smoothly. Jungkook transformed one last time and took you to the edge of the woods. Racing through the woods his senses were on high alert, but there was no left trace of his pack. However, Jungkook couldn’t get rid of the sinking feeling in the pit of his stomach that you both were still in terrible danger.
But your smile reassured him. 
Jungkook was calmed by the way you looked wistfully towards the woods that were full of horrors, laughing with the new ranger on duty while giving him back the keys to the cabin. You spun the silver house keyring around your pointer finger listening as the ranger told you the best roads to take back towards the city, only vaguely aware of how the silver coating now itched your skin the longer you played with the keys.
Then the car ride back to your place left Jungkook overstrung, jumpy. The city’s mechanics were a jarring contrast, everything sounded louder after staying in the wilderness, even to you. Jungkook stayed on edge until you both entered your apartment. 
It’s not as if Jungkook hasn’t visited the city before. However, years of advancing technology made the woods a more ideal hunting ground for his kind. It was a blessing and a curse. Jungkook stayed in the woods, growing more isolated, for what could have been a lifetime in human years. Jungkook could barely recognize the city as it was now. But there were reminders, street names prattled by a monotone navigation voice that stirred unpleasant memories inside him.
Memories like...
-🌒-
“Can’t we go home now?”
“Our Jungkook always has such a soft spot for humans.” The second youngest of the pack, Taehyung puts drapes his arm around Jungkook’s neck, squeezing him into a painful headlock.
“It will be okay Jungkook, we’ll be quick,” his brother, Jimin whispers, smiling.
“Speak for yourself,” Taehyung grunts.
“But the screaming is so annoying,” Jimin whines. Jungkook feels like screaming.
The oldest members of the pack were getting closer, each with an unsuspecting human or two clinging to their bodies, laughing drunkedly as they led the way to Jungkook and the others.
Before Jungkook could attempt to dissuade them again, Taehyung and Jimin had already transformed, bounding towards the large group. Jungkook reluctantly transformed and followed, keeping a lookout, but really hoping to ward away others out of harm’s path.
The humans screamed and the members they had befriended lead them down another alley, pretending to help, a deadly trick.
They escaped right into a dead end. And then, when they believed things could not get any worse, the men’s mood shifted, and so did their bodies.
-
It was like this in the beginning. When Jungkook was taught the extent of his powers from his pack, they would go into the city to prowl. He was taught how to lure in prey another way. And Jungkook reluctantly learned how to approach humans and make friends so his pack could feast.
Like most things they asked of him, he answered with a kind of quiet resistance, many times he refused to partake and his personality became quite...unalluring.
He was rude, mean, and hateful to humans. Yet, it wasn’t because he hated them. He did it to spare them, he could not have human friends, and he could not find friendship amongst his pack who found him odd and difficult to teach. It caused the pack to bully Jungkook for fighting against their ways, tearing him down and belittling him, until one day, on Christmas Eve, he decided he had enough...
-🌖-
You check your phone, no new messages from your mysterious host. You left a voice message, trying to stay light in your inquiries to her, but perhaps you need to be more direct, you think. Still, how are you going to convince a stranger to help you when it could put her in danger as well? 
You call again, leaving another voice message. “Hello! It’s me again...your cabin was lovely, I felt very safe. I was, well, hoping you could give me some tips on how to properly make my own home feel just as secure-” You frown, how direct is too direct? “-from you know, um, unwanted visitors…please call me back.” 
You hang up, hoping for a good response to your awkward plea. “What do you think?” You look at the magnets littered on your fridge, pulling down old photos that left an unpleasant taste in your mouth, your eyes stopping on the number to your favorite take out place, “Take out tonight?” you ask Jungkook.
“Um, ‘take’…‘out’?”
It’s not like you had a ton of expendable cash to feed and take care of another living being, but watching Jungkook devour your favorite dishes, humming in happiness as he tries the greasy take out food, made you think maybe this arrangement could work out somehow for the best.
You hadn’t expected another man in your life so soon, but you realized, trying not to laugh as Jungkook took his time cleaning the bones of his fried chicken, he was not quite all man…
You smiled, and then wondered what that meant for you, looking down at your short nails that Jungkook claimed became as sharp as talons.
“Eat,” he holds out a piece of chicken which you gratefully take. He looks towards the window, “We’re high up, that’s good.”
“Yeah?”
He nods, grabbing another piece of chicken and speaking in between bites. “It makes it harder to track a scent.”
You feel fear wash down your spine, cold and unpleasant. “Do you think they will? They’d come to the city for us? All this way?”
All those years, Jungkook never tried to leave the woods on his own, so he did not know. But he understood the pack’s dynamics, you had wounded them, and if they survived he knew they would not take a loss without retaliation. And he knew they would stop at nothing to establish their dominance again.
Jungkook moves to your window, cracking it open. He could smell so many things, but nothing out of the ordinary for a city. “If they come,” he breathes out, “I’ll be ready for them this time. I’ll be better, I’ll protect you no matter what.”
You watch the city lights twinkle and bury your head in his chest, hugging him close, making a silent promise to yourself to protect him too.
-🌘- 
You felt snow beneath your bare feet, the coldness was only a mild bother.
In fact, you felt warm.
The woods surrounding you were familiar, the dead branches spreading out in patterns you recognized. You stayed quiet and listened, and if you concentrated hard enough you could hear the wings of a large bird flying overhead, gliding from one branch to another, you could hear the small steps of a bunny rabbit moving on the ground, you could hear steady breathing in the distance. 
You saw a wolf. 
It was not intimidatingly large like Jungkook, it did not look terrifying and monstrous like the man in the fur coat, or wild and threatening like the wolves that chased you. 
It was a calm wolf with dark long fur. Its eyes watched you, studied you. 
The wolf’s eyes were not a menacing shade of red like the beasts’ eyes that haunted you still. No. It’s eyes stared into yours, a familiar shade that made you think of only one thing as the wolf moved closer to you, mere inches from your face, so close you could see your own reflection in its similar eyes, your eyes staring back like a mirror in its orbs. Your hand reached for your cheek in reflex, pulling on your bottom eyelid. Your eyes…
Your eyes.
It was your eyes.
“Y/n!” 
Jungkook shook you, waking you up. You clung to him, surprised. “You…you were crying in your sleep,” he says worriedly. 
You catch your breath, feeling the sting in your eyes from your mounting tears. “I’m sorry, sorry, I’m okay.” you reassure him, and yourself, cuddling back into his embrace.
“Are you sure?” he whispers, burying his nose in your neck out of habit. “I am here, you can talk to me. You don’t have to go through this alone,” he says softly, remembering all the moments when he wished he could hear someone utter those words. No, he won’t let what happened to him happen to you too.
You run your fingers through his hair, untangling the ends, your chin resting against his forehead. “I feel it inside me…this other thing. How do I stop something like that?” Your voice shakes as you try to make sense of your dream. “How do you?”
“It took me a while to control it,” he winces.
“How do you? ‘Control’ it?”
Jungkook pauses, thinking of his pack.
They would transform in front of him quickly and fluidly, utilizing whatever form benefited them in the moment. It took him a long while, to not let his emotions dictate his outside form, and eventually he felt comfortable enough to switch between forms, learning to follow their lead if only so Jungkook wouldn’t be left behind...
“I shouldn’t have used that word. You don’t control it, you accept it. I can transform easily because I know this is me,” he looks down at his hand, intertwined in yours, “And my other form...” he trails off, quieting screams that still shrill in his memory, “is who I am too,” he swallows.
But for you, if that beast hadn’t attacked you, you wouldn’t be going through this…this nightmare. This isn’t you.
You nod anyway, kissing his forehead to not only calm him, but your own worries as well.
“I have a couple more days of vacation,” you yawn. “I can show you around. We can buy you some clothes.”
Jungkook pulls the ends of your hoodie down, “I like wearing your clothes, they smell nice.”
You laugh and yawn. “We can get you clothes that fit you better. I need new clothes too, it’s going to warm up soon, I already feel so hot,” you huff, adjusting the collar of your night shirt. 
Jungkook’s reaction does not go unnoticed by you, the way he licks his lips absentmindedly, eyeing your revealed skin, his grip on your body tightening.
“Jungkook…”
“Yes?” He leans on his elbow, looking down at you. His eyes were curious, cautious, but his chest was heavy on yours. His presence over you left your stomach hungry-
You felt that hunger drop through your body, spread down your legs as you felt yourself heat up for an entirely different reason.
You try to focus on something other than his warmth.
“Is this okay for you? Being here in the city?” You push his hair behind his ear so you can stare into his eyes. Jungkook nods, but you press him. “Are you going to be okay? Everything here is so…tight, packed. You were free in the woods.” Even the cabin felt less confining than your apartment. Would he even be able to transform here? 
Jungkook shakes his head no, a small smile curling over his lips, “I wasn’t free. Not until I met you.”
You interlace your fingers with his. “You might have to stay just human until I can find some place better, is that okay?” You were thinking of leaving this place anyways, there were too many old memories here, traces of your ex that stuck to the walls of your home.
“I like being human,” Jungkook shrugs, lying his head back down on your shoulder. “I want to be human, with you.” Jungkook’s preference was one of the reasons his packmates would torment him, how could he prefer such a weaker form?
“I want to be with you too,” you hum, melding into Jungkook’s embrace. “I love you,” you whisper, knowing Jungkook could hear you loud and clear. It was undeniable how much you wanted him near you, how you wished you had met him sooner, before your heart was broken and guarded, maybe then you wouldn’t feel so fearful of your future together.
Jungkook smiled and moved himself closer…and as you were both already pressed up against each other, closer meant his body over yours, legs tangled, his head buried into the crook of your neck .
Now that Jungkook had already given himself to you, it was hard to stop himself when you were right there, in nothing but a t-shirt, so beautiful under him.
He wanted all his senses filled with just you.
He breathed in deep. He wanted to drown in the sweet scent of your love, feel your skin against every inch of his, listen to your soft sighs, your breathing escalating as he licked across your neck.
He wanted to study your features, your body, memorize your unique and intoxicating taste as he explored your mouth with his tongue.
He wanted to tell you the same, he wanted to make you his mate, and hold you forever. 
But he was still too shy and unsure of himself. He doubted he even deserved such a happy ending to his life when so much wickedness lived inside of him. 
But with you under him, even if he couldn’t tell you what he desired, his instincts to claim you in that moment took over. You were always so responsive from his touch, so inviting, and he craved your sweetness.
Your mouth widened and your legs opened, acting like a perfect mate, he thought. Your lust hit him in waves, each hit stronger than the last, encouraging him on. It made his desire to have you all consuming.
You gasp as Jungkook rips your shirt open. Oh, you’re definitely going to need more clothes.
It was hard to be annoyed over clothes when Jungkook had himself pressed so tightly against you, his mouth kissing you with such unrestrained passion it made your head spin.
You both rushed to have him inside of you, you were so wound up and ready to release all the tension and anxiety you felt.
“So warm,” Jungkook moaned, buried deep inside you. His hips jerk forward, pushing you up the bed. “So soft.” He loved the softness of your body when he bent your legs forward, spread your thighs open, his fingers digging into your supple skin. With the curves of your body molding into his, all he could think about was how perfect you were for him, his perfect mate.
You don’t think you’ll ever get quite used to this full feeling, or the way Jungkook makes love to you so fervently. Even on your best days with your past lover, it was never like this. What you felt in Jungkook’s embrace was primal.
Your bodies collided together like you were meant to stay connected as one. The pleasure you felt was blinding, bright as the light of two stars crashing together and creating something so brilliant there was nothing else. And for you, there was only Jungkook consuming your thoughts and overriding your senses, driving you higher into the cosmos.
“Yes, yes, yes!” your cries of pleasure only made Jungkook thrust faster, harder into your heat. The way you tightened and he expanded felt so intensely satisfying you both unraveled into a mixture of grunts and growls, until you came around him shaking, his own following quickly after, hips stuttering and filling you up.
You clenched around him in sensitivity as he swelled even more inside you. “Fuck, I’m not used to this,” you shuddered, laughing breathlessly.
“Sorry,” Jungkook nipped at your lips, rolling over so you laid over him, nestled to his chest. You listened to his erratic heartbeat as your own breathing slowed. “My kind mate like this.”
“‘Mate’…” you smile against his chest at the way he describes the act. “Is that what we’re doing, mating? Are you trying to get me pregnant, Jungkook?” you tease cheekily. You were on birth control, so you weren’t particularly worried, but giggled at Jungkook’s flushed face and flustered expression.
Jungkook bites his lips as your fingers draw circles into his chest. You should be tired after coming, but the way his dick was still hard and thick inside you hadn’t helped to lessen your appetite to have him. The twitch of his cock felt so good still, the fullness of his cum inside you felt obscenely arousing. You swiveled your hips against his, making you both moan.
“If you wanted to…” The thought of you pregnant with his child had his body feverish. He licked his lips, calming himself before he took you all over again. He could smell you weren’t yet in heat, but that did not stop his fantasies from running wild.
“Is that what you want?” you ask, licking your lips. 
Jungkook shifts inside you again, barely holding himself together.
Could he have this; his deepest desires, with you?
He nods quickly. You run your thumb across his jawline. You hadn’t really thought about children with your ex-boyfriend, especially at the end of your relationship when the sex was barely existent. When you looked down at Jungkook, who looked so reverently up at you, who you’ve known for only a sliver of time...somehow the idea of a future family seemed more…real than it’s ever been.
“Let’s work on getting you some new clothes first,” you smile. “Then we can talk about that–hey! O-Oh–” you laugh, your giggles turning into a series of moans as Jungkook pulls you into a kiss, pressing his hips up.
---
You giggle as Jungkook carries eight bags full of new clothes and groceries. He looks around the open market, head spinning in all directions at the sight and sounds and smells. You looked at a table with jewelry displayed. There were already Valentine’s Day sales, but even with the marked down price it was still out of your price range. You frown, “Ready to go home?” Jungkook nods, bags in tow.
“Just set everything on the table, what do you think of stew tonight? I have a new recipe I want to try!” you clasp your hands together excitedly, pulling off your coat and rolling up your sleeves. Jungkook was already dressed in one of his new outfits, a tight sheer turtleneck that made his muscles stand out.
You reached for the ends of his sleeves, rolling them to his forearms. Jungkook stared down at you, smirking at the way your body was already starting to heat up. 
“Here, for you.”
“Jungkook, where did you get that?!” You grab the bracelet from his hand, astonished.
“Err you wanted it, didn’t you? You were staring at it back at the-”
“But you can’t just take it! That’s stealing!” You turn the shiny piece dangling in your grasp, admiring it despite your worries.
Jungkook frowns, “I’m s-sorry, that’s what we used to do when we came into the city.”
“You and your, um, brothers?” you ask. Jungkook nods. “You can’t…there’s CCTV, you’ll get caught,” you warn. Jungkook bites his bottom lip, he very much doubted he would get caught, but he nodded in agreement nonetheless.
“It’s beautiful…” you murmur, “but not worth getting in trouble.” You still put it around your wrist, Jungkook helps you clasp the ends when you struggle, concentrating on the tiny piece with a furrowed brow that makes you giggle.
“Thank you, Jungkook…but don’t do it again, please.” Jungkook nods, surprised when you pull him into a hug, and then pull his head down for a kiss. If you react this way, he will just have to find a way to get you jewelry without stealing, he thinks, already wanting to do it again.
“We need to cook!” you laugh when he licks and nibbles the column of your neck.
A knock draws both your attention away.
Who could be knocking so late at night? It couldn’t be your family or friends, they would have called you ahead of time.
And suddenly you felt like you were back in the woods, fear washing over you as you walked cautiously closer to the door, peering through the peephole.
No…
‘Stay there,’ you motion to Jungkook anxiously, who looks back at you like he wants to do anything but that.
You unlock the door and open it. “What are you doing here?”
“Y/n, hey. I heard you were back from your trip. How was your Christmas?”
Your ex stands awkwardly at your door. ‘It was supposed to be our trip,’ you think, annoyed. “Yeah,” you clear your throat. “It was good. Did you need something?”
He looks lost, confused at your demeanor. You frown, crossing your arms over your chest. What did he expect from you? you think, to beg him to take you back? “I, um, wanted to get some things I left...”
“Okay, stay here-”
“Let me help you, I wanted to talk-”
“I don’t think that’s a good idea.” You block his way in as he advances, holding the door firmly.
“Come on, you’re really going to make me wait out here in the cold?”
You look down at your shoulder, the place where your ex had his hand placed over. You were not happy about the flood of emotions that entered your system, it was already hard enough to see his face, hear his voice, but then he had to go and touch you in some quazi-comforting gesture that made your blood boil and your heart ache. You couldn’t stop the shaking in your voice after that, “...after what you did…yes.” You flinch backward, shaking his hand off.
“I’m sorry, y/n, I’m so sorry. Please believe me-”
“I’ll never trust a word you say ever again!”
“Y/n, are you okay?” A hand landed on your shoulder again, gripping it hard, pressing into the muscle to relax your tense body.
Jungkook stood at your back protectively, crossing his arms, chest puffed out trying to look intimidating, and you guess he did to others who did not know him like you did.
You were grateful for his presence. “I’m fine,” you mumble looking over your shoulder, “Let me go get your stuff,” you address your ex. 
“Uh-” Jungkook moves forward, hiding you from his view. “H-Hey.”
Jungkook glares, lips tightly shut, leaving a heavy awkward silence in the air.
Your ex stands stiffly at your door until you come back with a box of his old clothes and toiletries. “Here you go.”
He looks between you and Jungkook. “Is this a friend?” You could tell he was uncomfortable with even that idea, his demeanor completely caught off guard by Jungkook’s presence.
You were allowed to move on, he’s the one who cheated on you! The days after you caught him in the act, leading up to Christmas, were some of the worst days of your life. You haven’t forgotten or forgiven him. Your ex had made you feel worthless, stomping on your feelings like you were dirt under his shoe, he made you think no one could love you again...
“No,” you say, “this is my boyfriend.”
You guess you could call Jungkook that. Your bond was a bit more complicated, even if neither of you really made things official until this moment.
“What, your ‘boyfriend?’” he said, tone unpleasant.
“Yes,” Jungkook glares, daring him to challenge him, placing his hand protectively around your waist. “I’m hers.”
You have unwittingly become leader of your own little pack. It was definitely a complicated bond.
-🌕-
It happened during the next full moon.
You woke up drenched in sweat, your muscles locked, your skin felt like it was on fire.
You were in too much pain to speak, you trembled and whimpered instead. Jungkook pulled your body out of bed, carrying you to your shower, holding you tightly as water cascaded down your bodies, steam filling the bath even though the water was cold. 
Your eyes were a glowing shade of red as you shook in Jungkook’s arms and looked up at him pleading for help. The more you fought against what was happening, the more pain you felt. Your long nails dug into his arm, drawing blood as you gritted your teeth.
“I’m here, I’m here, I’ll protect you” Jungkook whispered soothingly, but he did not really know how to help you. Until you began screaming, resisting with everything inside you, and all he could do to quiet you was to press his lips to yours, softening your cries.
You woke up on your living room floor, furniture pushed to the walls and Jungkook’s large wolf body encircled around you, with only a foggy memory of the night before.
-🌗-
“Hello! Thank you for returning my call.”
Jungkook sits cross legged on your couch, now pushed to the wall, as you pace around the living room. After that terrifying night you left a lengthy voice massage for the cabin’s owner, desperate for help.
Jungkook watches you move back and forth and wishes he could calm your nerves. He felt useless, like a burden, a horrible mate, no, a boyfriend, Jungkook reminded himself.
“Heh, did I say werewolf?” you pace to the left, “Wait are those real? Oh, of course, that makes sense...” you pace to the right, “Yes...um, I did say that, didn’t I? Well, he was human when I brought him inside, I wouldn’t just let a wolf inside your cabin-” you stop in the center, sending Jungkook a worried smile, “Yes. Right. I-I just really need your help!” Jungkook shifts forward on the couch encouraging you to keep going. “Your cabin had um, some kind of, protection magic? Right?” Jungkook watches as you listen to her answer, shaking your head in frustration. “I’ll pay you! I will pay you, if you help me.”
“Oh…” You take a seat on the couch. Jungkook listens as you explain what happened on Christmas Day in more detail and the days following, his head in your lap, enjoying when you scratch his scalp. You slump into the cushions, pouting. “Yes, I know you said not to go outside at night, but-”
You play with the strands of Jungkook’s hair as you listen silently. “Is there a way to protect my home too?” you ask, so pleadingly Jungkook wraps his arms around your waist wishing you did not have to go through this.
“He’s not!” you yell. “Oh, I was not–I see…yes.”
Suddenly, your exasperated expression turns into one of excitement. You jump up from the couch, looking for a paper and pen. “Yes yes! Okay.” Jungkook looks over your shoulder thinking, ‘What is Wolfsbane?’
“Thank you!”
-🌓-
This counted as spring cleaning right? you think as you finish boxing the last items left in your bedroom. “Jungkook!”
“Yeah?” he seemingly appears out of nowhere, peaking into the room.
“Can you tape this up?” you ask, standing up and brushing the dust off your pants.
Jungkook nods, tape gun already in hand. His helpfulness is cute and endearing, and his lack of shirt and tight ripped pants made him irresistible. You run to the kitchen to make sure your sexy boyfriend doesn’t distract you any more than he already has.
But Jungkook, for all his intimidating good looks, acts like a lost puppy, following after you straight away. “Let me help.” He reaches over you, pulling the last of the dishes from the top shelves of your cabinets.
He smells good. Even after hours of moving boxes, he smells so good.
“Hey,” his hushed voice drops two octaves, looking down at you. He could always tell when you were distracted...aroused.
“Two more hours until the movers get here,” you remind him. You were relieved you found a nice place to move into, it was bigger and cheaper due to its location near a college, and there was even a park in walking distance.
Jungkook licks his lips, “Two more hours?” he repeats, moving closer to you.
“We haven’t finished packing,” you remind him, sensing his intentions.
Your hand against his bare chest for space is not helping, only decreasing your reluctance. “Two hours is plenty of time,” he surprises you by picking you up, dropping you on the counter.
“We should focus on–oh–the–ah-”
You really couldn’t focus on anything other than Jungkook’s mouth leaving love bites across your chest, his lips and teeth dragging down your skin, lowering his head until he was nipping at your stomach.
He teased you, pulling away your clothes until you were naked and willing to waste time with him. Your enthusiasm always riled Jungkook up, made him animalistic, until he was pushing you down onto the only carpet left unrolled, mounting you and thrusting into you hard and deep as you squirmed under his strong hold, getting wetter and tighter as he quickened his paced until he was feral, unhinged thrusts fucking into you as deep as he could reach.
“Please-”
“Please what?” he growled into your ear, spilling all his filthy thoughts out, “Give it to you harder? Fill your womb up with my seed?”
“Yes-”
“You would look so good–ah-full with my pups. Would you like that?” He laid his weight over you, rolling his hips to reach every part inside you.
“Fill me up,” you moan, “I want your babies.”
Jungkook’s cock swelled, pumping you full of his cum. You could feel rivers of his release against your walls, sticky and wet, with no place to go with his cock plugged inside you.
You laid gasping and twitching under him, covered in sweat, filled to the brim.
“Want more?” he grunts, holding your body down. You nod eagerly.
-
Knock knock knock.
You and Jungkook look up surprised, locked together and naked, thinking of a good excuse for the movers.
-🌕-
Three times it’s happened, and though it's gotten easier for Jungkook, it never gets easier for you.
Walking the aisles of the convenience store late at night kept your mind off the things in your life you couldn’t control. Like random spontaneous transformations, the looming threat of monsters after you, or reoccurring night terrors that left you with even more unanswered questions.
You sneaked away while Jungkook was sleeping, hoping that a surprise dinner date would do as an apology for the night before.
Even if Jungkook did not act like you had done anything wrong, this morning you saw the fresh scars that covered his shoulders and reached his neck. It killed you inside to see the marks, evidence of what you had done...it terrified you.
“Can’t go wrong with noodles,” you sigh, adding a variety of flavors for Jungkook to try. ‘Hmmm, what else would he like?’ You should probably get him some meat too, you think, grabbing various cuts. You weren’t a big meat eater before, but even just smelling the raw beef had your mouth watering. You shiver, pushing those kind of thoughts out of your mind. 
You notice a huge display of strawberries, your favorite fruit, juicy and red, abundant in the spring season, so you grab some for Jungkook to try.
Maybe you should take him to a strawberry farm! The idea of Jungkook curiously roaming around a field of the red fruit, carefully choosing the ripest berries, makes you smile. You’ve noticed just how gentle Jungkook acts despite his massive size.
You add ‘strawberry picking,’ to the mental list of things you want Jungkook to experience. ‘Oh, Jungkook.’ You wanted to let him rest, give him some space since the only time you’ve been apart from each other is when you went in to work, but you’re starting to miss him already. How silly, you think.
While in your thoughts you hadn’t noticed the man next to you, but you smelled him, a familiar scent...if you didn’t know better you might have mistaken that smell for your stubborn boyfriend.
As though he recognized the moment you finally noticed his presence, he cleared this throat, “Excuse me, can you help me?”
You turn around, catching light brown eyes. The stranger offers you a large bright smile, it makes you feel safe...warm.
With his sharp jaw, high cheekbones, and long brown hair, he is very handsome, intimidatingly so. “O-Oh, what did you need help with?” You look over to the basket he is carrying, filled with alcohol. 
“Well,” he laughs shyly, “I’m new to the area, looking for some place to take my brothers, do you know any good nightclubs around here?”
“Oh, I just moved here too,” you smile, “There is a University close by! I bet there are clubs and bars around there.” You pull out your phone and open your navigation app, searching for the University. The man moves closer, looking over your shoulder while you toggle the map to magnify the area.
You glance to your side, where the man peers over your shoulder, eyes concentrating on your phone. His presence feels familiar and you can’t help but think of Jungkook.
This man reminds you of Jungkook. It’s a crazy thought. A scary thought.
His eyes dart up quick to meet yours, so fast you almost flinch, feeling embarrassed you were caught staring. But he just smiles wide, crescent eyes shining.
You quickly navigate your phone, pushing those ridiculous thoughts away, it has been months already and nothing has happened.
“Oh here, there’s a street full of bars. This one club has four and a half stars. He tilts his head closer to you, hair brushing along your cheekbone. Too close. You step to the side, closer to the strawberries, mindlessly running your fingers along the cases and picking out another box out of nervousness.
“Can you text me that address?” he asks, “If you don’t mind!” he adds quickly.
“Oh? Okay.” You fumble with your cell, “Yeah, sure.”
“You smell nice, what is that scent?” His fingertips graze the edges of your hair making you tilt your head away.
“Um, coconut, maybe?” you laugh nervously.
“Coconut? I will have to try that,” he smiles.
His phone dings after he finishes typing his number in, an old flip phone style you haven’t seen in years. The loose sleeveless shirt he wore left his lean muscles out on display. He catches you staring, smiling, “Well, nice meeting you, um…” he waits patiently for you to finish his sentence.
“Y/n.” you smile awkwardly.
“Hoseok. Maybe we’ll see each other around then? I will introduce you to my brothers.” He gives you a bright smile, tongue in between his teeth.
“Yeah, maybe.” You smile politely.
You steered your cart to check out, looking over your shoulder one last time, curiosity getting the better of you, watching him saunter away, alcohol and berries now in his cart.
Wait.
Why do you have only have one case?
---
As you unload your bags of groceries on the kitchen counter a sleepy Jungkook presses himself to your back, “Where did you go?”
“To get dinner. I thought we could make something from scratch,” you muse, “pasta with meat sauce?”
You turn and your smile slowly drops at Jungkook’s expression. “Jungkook....”
His grip around your waist tightens as his head lowers to your shoulder.
“It hurts,” you wince, pulling away.
“Why do you smell like that? Where did you go?!”
“Just to the store! That’s all,” you say, confused.
“Did you meet someone?!” He yanks your shirt closer, stretching the fabric.
“No! I mean, y-yes, there was-” 
“You let him touch you!?”
He looks furious, his chest rising and falling rapidly, anger radiating off of him. Jungkook could smell his scent running along the column of your neck. It made him see red.
“No!” you yell. “He wanted my help-”
Jungkook groans, turning away. He makes sure the front door is locked out of habit, even though a small lock wouldn’t truly stop them from entering. He runs to the window, using his senses to search for the same scent on you.
Had you been followed? Jungkook was sure of it, they knew exactly where you were and that you were alone. How long have they known?
“Jungkook, what’s happening?”
They're here.
“His name was Hoseok,” Jungkook says solemnly, looking over his shoulder to you.
“Y-Yes,” you swallow. “He said he was looking for a bar for his...brothers. But he was n-nice! Fuck, I should have kno–he even reminded me of you.”
“I’M NOT LIKE HIM.”
Your heart drops to the pit of your stomach in that moment, chest hurting from the weight of his words. “Just take a deep breathe, before something happens-”
“BEFORE WHAT HAPPENS?” Jungkook roars, “Before I turn into a monster?!”
You shake your head no, your hands reaching on either side of his face. You could feel his body shaking in anger against your palms. “No, I did not mean it that way, you’re not like them, Jungkook, you’re not.”
You rest your forehead against his until his breathing calms down. You did not know how to explain all the reasons why you loved him, and simply said, “I love you.”
His mood changes, leaning into your palm. “I’m sorry, I can’t stand it, the thought of any of them touching you...hurting you...” he takes in a shaky inhale, “I love you too.”
-🌖-
“Touch right there,” you point, taking a deep breath, “and it will call him.” You hand Jungkook your phone. “Ready?”
He nods and you hold hands while the line rings three times. A taunting voice you don’t recognize answers.
“Am I speaking to y/n…or Jungkook?”
“Stop, whatever you are planning, stop it. I’m warning you,” Jungkook growls.
“You know we can’t do that. Where ever you go, we’ll be there. We’re family, aren’t we? You can’t leave family behind.” The voice laughs and Jungkook grinds his teeth.
“He doesn’t want to live with you anymore, can’t you see that?” you interject.
“Doesn’t want to? We all do things we don’t want to. Do you think I want to be in this infested town? Entertaining the likes of you?” The voice’s sweet mocking tone turns dark and threatening so quickly it makes the bile in your stomach rise.
“Jimin, don’t speak to her like that!”
“Ooh, I’ve never seen our Jungkook so possessive,” another deeper voice speaks up.
“Over a human,” another one scoffs quietly in the background.
“He always had a soft spot for them.”
“But does she know, what he’s done to her kind?”
“Did you tell her, Jungkookie?”
There were too many voices, all speaking one after the other, until silence left everyone including you waiting for his answer.
You spoke up instead when Jungkook could no longer keep his eyes locked with yours, looking down shamefully. “Whatever he’s done in the past, it doesn't matter! Especially when it’s been under your influence!”
The group’s mocking laughter rings through your phone’s speaker. “What a loyal pet.”
It was another voice, one that hadn't spoken yet, one you recognize, one that haunted your nightmares still.
The man in the fur coat, the one who attacked you, spoke last. Everyone else stopped talking, showing respect to their leader.
“How are you feeling, by the way? It was a full moon last night, wasn’t it?” he says in a chilling mocking tone.
He tuts, “What are you going to do, Jungkook? You’re lost without us. You’re nothing. Acting like a human, it’s pathetic. Even she’s stronger than you now-”
“That’s not true.” you grit. 
“Pet, you know it is my blood inside you, not Jungkook’s. I’m inside you,” he laughs. You hang up, not wanting to hear anymore.
“They know where we live,” Jungkook says solemnly.
“It’s okay, we have all the things Miss Manyo gave us. They will work,” you reassure Jungkook. “You’ve gotten stronger too,” you whisper encouragingly, “They don’t know about that...”
-
“Is there a way to protect my home too?” you ask, desperately hoping for good news.
“You’ve already let a beast inside,” Miss Manyo says thoughtfully. “We would need another kind of spell-”
“He’s not!” you yell.
“He? Huh? I was talking about you, dear,” she says softly.
“Oh, I was not–”
“You have a beast inside you. It will have to be a different spell, I will have to search for one,” she sighs. “It will cost extra,” she says cheekily, trying to lighten the mood.
“I see…” you whisper, embarrassed you misunderstood her.
“You said ‘he,’ before, he’s there with you now, yes? The hmm wolf boy you found.”
“Yes,” you swallow.
“Okay, that will make things difficult, but not impossible! Here, I'm going to give you a list of items to ward off those pesky wolves while I see what I can do, just warn your friend to keep his distance, you might feel the affects as well because of your...condition, write these down...ready?”
Suddenly, your exasperated expression turns into one of excitement. You jump up from the couch, looking for a paper and pen. “Yes yes! Okay.” You scribble down a list of items while Jungkook looks over your shoulder.
“I used to vacation in the summer at that cabin when I was a little girl” she says wistfully, “I’m all too familiar with the legends of those woods,” she sighs. “That spell was cast long ago, but I might be able to recreate it...I can’t make any promises,” she warns wearily, “but I will try my best. The wards cast are old and powerful. Unlike things in this world, magic only gets stronger with age...like me,” she laughs.
“Thank you!”
---
“Jungkook, you have to let me go to work, if they were going to attack me like that, don’t you think they would have done it by now?”
The poor shapeshifter had made you late to work for the third time this week.
“They showed themselves, its only a matter of time before they try to hurt you! Please, take one of your ‘sickness days’, or let me come with you again! I will hide better!”
You sigh. You and Jungkook couldn’t live in fear for the rest of your life. You won’t!
“Or-” Your eyes widen, excitedly. “We could catch them first! We have everything we need now. Jungkook...are they the type to make a scene?”
-
“Oh my! Well well, so this is what they look like without all the fur.”
Miss Manyo circles Jungkook, enthralled. “You definitely have taken my advice on strengthening your human form,” she pinches a shell-shocked Jungkook’s cheek. “Right? Hasn’t he?” she whispers in your direction.
“Well, yes,” you tilt your head thinking, “but he has always looked like that.”
“Dear, I completely understand you now.”
“Heh heh, t-that’s not why-Oh! Are those-”
You notice two necklaces in her hands. “This one,” she holds up the silver chain with a green gem attached, “will protect the space as long as the wearer is inside, it was the best I could do at such short notice, sorry dear.” You nod. Right now you were happy for anything. Holding the silver necklace doesn’t hurt, only tickles your skin, but you can imagine how it might get uncomfortable the longer you wear it.
You’ll endure.
“What is the other necklace for?”
“This one,” she holds up a gold necklace with a red gem attached. “Is for him! That is, if he wants it,” she smiles.
“For me?” Jungkook’s eyes go wide in surprise and Miss Manyo sighs wistfully, completely enamored.
“Err what does it do?” you ask.
The old witch laughs quite deviously.
-🌗-
“This is beautiful,” you sigh, “Don’t you think?” You and Jungkook walk down the street after eating lunch at a new café. There is an entire block spanning with flower stand after flower stand of all colors. “Should we get some?”
“What do you do with them?”
“You look at them, I guess?” you laugh.
“But they are cut,” he flops the bouquet upside down, and thin tiny petals go flying, “They are going to die.” you send an apologetic look to the seller, pulling out your wallet to pay for the bouquet. Jungkook holds a bouquet up to his nose...and sneezes.
“Well, yeah, but we’re all going to die eventually, aren’t we? What’s important is appreciating the beauty of the moment,” you smile, hugging his side, grabbing the beautiful bouquet and admiring the flowers, “like being here with you.”
Jungkook kisses your cheek softly. “Next time can we get a bouquet with roots?”
You laugh, “Yes, definitely.”
-
“Not in public, Jungkook,” you shoo Jungkook away. Your boyfriend has become very touchy as of late. You did not think it was even possible for Jungkook, who always found a way to wrap himself around you.
You did not mind, but having his hands all over you while waiting in line for dessert pastries might be ruining the appetites of those around you! You laugh, moving away embarrassed. Jungkook kisses you one last time, standing stoic with his arm over your shoulder.
You couldn’t help but feel proud to have such a doting boyfriend, someone as kind and protective as him. It was you, who cuddled into his embrace this time, too happy to have him in your life.
By the time you chose your pastries, a strawberry cheesecake petit gateau for you and a meat and cheese croissant for Jungkook, it started to rain.
The sun was still shinning despite the rain, and instead of running for cover, Jungkook grabbed your hand and led you to a place you passed by on you search for the café.
“W-Where are we going?” you ask confusedly.
“I want to show you something! It only happens when it rains,” he says excitedly.
So you follow Jungkook in the rain, without an umbrella, without a second thought.
“When it rained like this, I would go to the lake in the woods, and watch the raindrops jump back up, look look!” he smiles, looking at the small pond, admiring the rain hitting the surface.
“It was calming,” he sighs, smiling to himself, unbothered by the raindrops falling down onto his clothes. “The others would sit with me and watch sometimes. We wouldn’t talk, just listen to the rain...drink...be happy...” he says smiling.
“Do you miss them?”
Jungkook stays quiet for a very long time. You sit next to him, throwing your head back and letting the raindrops sprinkle your face for the first time since you were a child. You listened to the rain, the steady pattern was soothing, Jungkook was right.
Jungkook thinks about the rare moments where he would play with the pack, laughing.
“No.” Those moments were nothing compared to every day sacrificing his humanity to please the pack, to make his leader happy.
Jungkook did not want to go back into the woods.
Jungkook wanted to live with you.
He wanted to be a better man. He wanted to be a man.
You notice Jungkook’s somber shift in mood. “I’m sorry, I shouldn’t have mentioned them.” You push the wet strands of hair out of Jungkook’s eyes.
“It’s okay, I’m happy, this is more fun. This is what I wanted,” he smiles, kissing your worries away.
Maybe it was because he always did it to you, or maybe you wanted him closer; you buried your head against the crook of his neck, holding him tightly, kissing the rain off his neck.
Jungkook closes his eyes, listens to the water and your steady heartbeat. A slow warmth starts in his throat, spreading down to his chest, vibrating in pit of his stomach. He loved every touch, caress, and kiss you gave him, but this...made him wild.
The rain showers down harder, clouds covering the sun. The plastic bag that held your pastry box was safe from the rain, your clothes however, were not spared. The spring dress you wore clung to all your curves, garnering all of Jungkook’s attention.
He picks you up abruptly, surprising you, arms wrapped under your thighs, pushing your short dress even higher up your widened thighs.
Your lips find his mouth, tasting his soft wet lips, and he deepens the kiss until you were breathless.
The rain tickles your exposed skin.
Jungkook held you like you weighed nothing, energized by his desperate need for you. He licked into your mouth, tongue pressing over yours in a performance of passion and dominance that left you panting and jittery with adrenaline and lust.
“Let’s go home,” you offer, wanting more.
“Why? No one is around.”
That was true, the rain was strong enough now that no one else dared to stay outside.
You pant, his growing hardness pressing between your legs affecting you more and more.
You give in. “O-Over there,” you look over to the treeline which would provide you with a little more cover from the rain and intruding eyes.
Jungkook looks around, the tiny park is empty and he can’t wait. He wants to take you here, out in the open.
The embarkment was perfect to lie your body against, pound you into the earth. Oh he wants to, desires so badly to claim you, lie your body on the grass and fuck you full of his cum.
You wiggle in his embrace until he drops you. You try to concentrate while his arms go under your dress, yanking you possessively closer. “Let’s go over t-there,” you moan as he fervently kisses your neck, sucking your soft skin and marking it.
“Oh f-fuck...w-wait!” You grab his cheeks, pushing his head away, so you can steady yourself.
There was an animalistic need in his eyes that made your body tingle all over. “Y/n, please,” he begs as he tries to nip at your lips again. His please was such a desperate low pleading murmur you felt your body surge.
“Catch me,” you kiss his lips playfully, before turning and running towards the treeline.
You bounced away, dress clinging thin to your assets. Jungkook felt his dick swell, an urge overtaking his body at the thought of capturing you in his arms, like an itch he always wanted to scratch, a filthy desire to claim you in the most animalistic way. Jungkook never gave in to that side of him, but his desires were too strong, his composure strung too thin, snapping all of his restraints.
He let you have what you wanted, a chase to a more secluded location, because he got to have what he wanted, you.
So sweet and soft you felt, your pretty voice whimpering such lewdness when he caught you, lifting you up in his arms. He held you against a tree, your legs back around his torso, and your inviting wet pussy stretching over his cock.
Jungkook did not hold back, ravaging your body, and you, too filled with pleasure did not mind his passionate digging touches. You grip the muscles of his back, adrenaline pumping through your veins, gasping into his mouth for more.
You'll take Jungkook in his sweet boyish charm and wild passion, you want all of him, just as he is.
-🌖-
“You look...”
“Yes?” you twirl in your light purple tulle dress.
“...cold,” Jungkook bites his lip, blushing.
“What!” you laugh. You admit the tulle skirt is cut in a way that shows off most of your legs, but this spring has been so hot!
“People will see,” Jungkook pouts.
“See what?”
“Your body,” he says. He hugs you close, gliding his mouth over every exposed bit of skin he sees.
“You’re the only eyes I care about,” you whisper breathlessly, unable to hide the way his ministrations affects you.
“Let’s stay home,” he says smirking wickedly, affected by your growing arousal.
“No!” you laugh. “C’mon,” you say, pushing your handsy boyfriend towards the door, “It’s tonight, we have to stop acting like prey and start acting like...monster hunters!” you wink, pulling on your white lacy gloves, picking up an array of silver utensils and pocketing them in your purse, the far cheaper option to the old century silver daggers Miss Manyo suggested.
---
“Do you want to dance?”
Jungkook grabs your waist, yanking you to his side, practically growling under his breath.
The stranger holds up his hands in surrender, “Sorry, sorry,” moving quickly away.
You sigh, wrapping your arms around you jealous partner’s neck. “Do you want to dance?” you ask Jungkook. “Do you smell them here?” you whisper.
Jungkook could barely think with the music so loud. He currently smelled a lot of things, unpleasant things at that; the rancid smell of alcohol everywhere, body order, vomit. He hated this part of the hunt his brothers would engage in. It was so hard to concentrate when there were so many loud noises and flashing lights. But he thinks, he feels, they are here, somewhere.
“How am I supposed to concentrate now?” he murmurs against your hair. You roll your hips into him again, laughing.
“Dance with me, ” you give him a teasing look and pull him on the dance floor. “You’re so stiff, relax!” you smile, pressing your body close to his “C’mon, we can’t be afraid,” you tease. You pull Jungkook to you, guiding his body with yours, until he breaks into a small smile.
You tried your best to relax him, letting Jungkook spin you and pull you back into his embrace, keeping your own worries to yourself.
You peered over his shoulder as you danced together, watchful, scrutinizing each dark corner, each sharp noise, ready.
“They’re here.” Jungkook whispers. You nod against his chest, scanning the dance floor.
You felt eyes watching you.
It felt like the forest all over again, except this time, dancing bodies instead of trees stood as obstacles between you and the beasts, and this time, you were not going to run away.
Instead, you held Jungkook’s hand and moved your way through the crowd where you were sure you saw a glimpse of those eyes that haunted your dreams.
“Looks like we meet again, y/n.” Hoseok walks right into your path, knocking into you. You stumble back into Jungkook.
Hoseok only moves closer, sandwiching you between them on the crowded dance floor. “Yes, that’s how it looks,” you swallow.
Hoseok sends you a deceptive smile. “Calm down Jungkook, enjoy the night,” Hoseok warns, looking to the man behind you.
Jungkook can smell them, see their movements out of the corners of his eyes. Three other bodies move closer, his brothers moving in at all angles.
You felt it too, looking over your shoulder just in time to see two men knock into Jungkook on both sides, hands yanking him back. Hoseok moves too, finding your abandoned wrists and pulling you into a dance.
“You, I can see being foolish enough to come here and challenge us, but how did you convince our Jungkook?”
Hoseok expected you to be emanating fear, but you were calm and collected. Jungkook, usually impulsive and tempered, was holding back as well. Well, as best he could, his anger on the brink of exploding.
“What makes you think that? We just felt like dancing.”
“Ahh, and the fact that this is the place you suggested means nothing?”
“Have you been coming here every night waiting for us like a dog waiting for its master? Sounds miserable,” you jab.
“Oh, it wasn’t so bad,” Hoseok mimics your detached attitude rather than taking the bait. “This is the best bar in town, so many young men and women here, all just so eager and willing, they don’t even put up a fight,” his arms wrap around you suffocatingly tight.
Jimin yanks Jungkook’s shoulder back as he tries to move towards you. There's a rumble in Jungkook’s chest, a swirling pit of rage and jealousy watching Hoseok's hands travel over your dress, disappearing under your tulle skirt to lay his hands on your skin.
“Don’t do it, or it will only get worse for her,” Namjoon warns, pressed against Jungkook's other side, surveying the dancing crowd.
Hoseok drops his head down, smelling your neck. “But you, you have something up your sleeves, don’t you? Please tell me you do, we’ve all been aching for another fight.”
“So you can lose again?”
Hoseok laughs against your skin. You’re covered in Jungkook’s scent, Jungkook had made sure of that every night and every morning, but your perspiration from the heat of the club let your own smell come through just enough for Hoseok’s liking. Hoseok took the opportunity to lick your neck, tasting your sweat on his tongue.
You shudder in his embrace, this felt wrong and menacing and nothing like Jungkook's sweet acts of scenting you. “There’s only four of you tonight? Where are the others?” ‘Where is that man who wore the fur coat?’ you think.
“Oh, they are here, enjoying the show,” Hoseok smirks.
“Take me to him then, the one who did this,” you nod down to your shoulder, where the smallest tiniest scar still remains of your bite.
Hoseok laughs, hands roaming your body again. “To our Seokjin? Sure, I owe you an introduction, right? Just one last thing-”
You tried to catch Jungkook's eyes as Hoseok traps you in his embrace, kissing you. You saw him, three men surrounding him and another moving suspiciously closer. You trusted that he could handle himself, even with such unfair numbers, just as you hoped he trusted you as well and did not lash out in anger.
Jungkook’s blood boiled. It was the angriest the pack had ever seen him. Jungkook cracks his knuckles as he watches Hoseok continue to do as he please, moving you further and further away from him. “Hey,” A voice speaks out to him from behind. “Why are you wearing gloves?” Taehyung asks.
Jungkook moves like lightning; like a bolt of energy trapped in glass, ricocheting off in every angle, that was how the furious shapeshifter behaved.
Luckily, his pack mates made themselves conveniently close. Close enough for Jungkook to hit them in the face with a small purple enchanted flower, a bag of poisonous wolfsbane holding a confusion spell from his admiring new witch friend.
Yoongi, who was close by, stepped back, but Jungkook who had been training his human body all this time, was now just too strong and fast for him.
-
You finally manage to shove Hoseok off of you as he pushes you into a corner. You fall against the velvet seating, your shoulder knocking into the one you had been looking for.
Seokjin isn't wearing a fur coat anymore, he’s in a white suite, jacket opened and shirt barely buttoned, showing off his strong wide build.
The crowd of dancing bodies and loud music provided them with the perfect cover, or perhaps everyone was too drunk and apathetic to care about their violent movements.
“I could kill you right now.” Seokjin says, fingers wrapped around your neck. “Remember when I told you, you would beg me for death?” He studies your features up close, smiling at your struggle.
Your fingers dig into his forearm as you try to inhale fruitlessly. He brings you closer to him, your face merely inches away from him, “Interesting.”
Seokjin could see the cool blue club lights reflected back into your eyes, but even under the lightning he could see a familiar shade of red in your irises. His ego believed it was because of him, you were now part him after all.
Hoseok cranes his neck over the crowd, “Something is wrong.” He turns to leave, nodding for approval from Seokjin who nods back.
You smirk despite being seconds away from unconsciousness.
Seokjin is intrigued. He abruptly lets go and you gasp in air, coughing, rubbing your neck. “You’ve missed one small tiny detail in your plan, pet.”
“Yeah?” you cough.
Seokjin grabs your chin painfully tight, turning your head to the exact spot Jungkook was. He looked determined, weaving through the crowd to get to the pair of you.
“You wanted to get me alone, but what if that was what I also wanted, to finally have you all to myself?”
You swallow, looking out of the corner of your eye to look one last time at Jungkook.
“Oh, he’s so close.” Seokjin’s arm snake around your waist, holding you tight. “Right there,” he taunts.
The pulsing bass felt like a ticking clock, you felt it hit you with each beat, like a row of dominoes, toppling over, closer and closer to destroying everything. And Jungkook was on the path to destruction.
Or was he?
Seokjin watches the youngest pack member disappear back into the crowd.
“I have a confession,” you look over your shoulder. Seokjin still sees red, a burning confidence in your gaze, “You’re not that scary in your human form to be honest.”
“Is that right?” Seokjin smirks, his arm now digging into your side painfully. “Our kind do have a certain look to us in this form that makes it easier to lure in prey.” He leans close to your ear, keeping his eyes on the crowd. “But I’ll tell you a secret too...I know you visited our little witch friend,” he says smiling.
“Afraid then?” you whisper.
Seokjin laughs, “Oh I like this version of you.” He grabs the hand that held your wristlet, making sure you could not pull out what was in your purse. “You should be thanking me, don’t you think? I could teach you, just like I taught Jungkook, how to make the most of your...situation. Just pledge the rest of your life to me and I’ll be willing to spare it, how does that sound?”
But the confident woman you are now was not because of him, nor this courageousness you felt. The strength you felt inside of you was reinforced not by pain or fear, it was all love, it was all Jungkook.
You might have melted down Jungkook’s walls when you were stuck together for the winter, but Jungkook warmed your broken heart, made you feel cherished and loved again.
Jungkook was the reason you fought so hard, was the reason you nurtured this new side of you. Every time you let her in, you thought of Jungkook, and you felt safe...
-🌑-
“There’s legends that talk about what happened to you, but who really knows what is fact or fiction.” She shakes her head, “I only know the spells passed down from my family and my coven.”
“So there is nothing I can do to control it?” you ask, disheartened.
“Well now I didn’t say that...”
-
Jungkook sits still as he watches your resting figure on the ground. He pulls out slivers of grass nervously while he waits.
Miss Manyo stirs some old dried red flower petals in a large jar of water, reciting an incantation.
“What’s that?” Jungkook blinks, smelling the strong fragrance from his distance. You wanted to open your eyes, but she was insistent you keep them closed.
“Moon water from the last blood moon.”
“What are you going to do with it?”
“You ask a lot of questions, dear. You’re lucky you’re cute,” she teases. “I'm going to do this,” and Miss Manyo throws the entire contents of the water jar in your face.
“What the hell?!” You sit up, coughing out water, but you don’t see Miss Manyo anymore, or Jungkook. You don’t see anyone, because you’re not lying in green grass anymore. Your face and hair is no longer wet, but there's a chill in the air. The warmth of spring is gone, and so are you.
This familiar place is freezing, and yet when your finger tips drag along the winter snow on the ground, you aren’t cold. You breathe out a puff of smoke.
A twig cracks.
And the wind howls.
What are you suppose to do? Why did she bring you back here?
You stand up. Everything is quiet and snow falls steadily around you.
It's too quiet, the hairs on the back of you neck stand up, so you hurriedly stand up.
Another branch breaks.
You turn around suddenly, moving before you even realized what you were doing.
You see it, so far away yet so recognizable against the winter white.
And for those few moments, it feels like time stops still.
You have to make a choice.
You decide to run.
And the dark wolf, sensing your decision too, sprints forward, its paws kicking up white dust.
You take a hurried step backward.
Solid footing, to push you forward.
---
“Never,” you grit out. “I came here for answers. What did you do to me?!” You try to yank your arm out of Seokjin's grasp with all your might, yet you barely move in his grasp. “What has been happening to me?”
Seokjin thinks for a moment, looking away from you to look over the crowd again, like he’s buying time, but time’s up, you’ve bought it all up.
Screams of terror fill the club, there’s a crash, and another, and another.
A roar louder than the bass boosted music, louder than the screams and noises of the club, louder than anything you’ve ever heard erupts.
And a huge wolf appears from the crowd with a struggling man in its mouth.
“Sorry, Jungkook told me how you hated making a scene,” you smirk. You try to pull away from Seokjin, but he's stronger, lifting you off your feet as the crowd panics.
A group of drinkers knock into you both as they hurriedly try to get away from the enormous beast. You and the furious pack leader fall to the ground and it distracts Seokjin just enough...
You jump to your feet, quickly opening your purse before Seokjin reaches for you again. His nails dig into your scalp as you try to get away, pulling you back by the hair.
“Do you know what you have done? You have endangered us all,” Seokjin sneers, yanking you back harder.
“If you stay human, you’ll be fine,” you mock, “that is, if Jungkook doesn’t get to you first.” In that moment Jungkook whips his head, growling, throwing a bleeding Hoseok into the air.
You scream, “JUNGKOOK,” before Seokjin covers your mouth. Jungkook in his wolf form pounces over tables and bar stools to get to you.
Seokjin recoils his hands away, yelling in pain.
“Is that a...spoon?” he balks.
“Yep,” you hold it up happily. You throw it at his head, pushing through the escaping crowd. Seokjin chases right after you.
With every knock against your shoulder, you have to reorient yourself, losing precious distance. You see flashes of white moving closer and closer, Seokjin shoving to the ground anyone who dares to run into him.
“Jungkook!” you scream, running towards the farthest exit instead, where terrified drinkers disperse as Jungkook’s large wolf body course corrects. “Jungkoo-”
“Y/n!” Jungkook crashes into you, pulling you through the exit doors.
“Hold on!” you stumble, “I can’t run like this,” you pant, pulling off your heels.
“I told you to wear boots!” Jungkook and you start running again.
“I would have looked silly! No one wears hiking boots to a club, they would have noticed too,” you try to yell as you run. “This way!” You and Jungkook run towards the university. There’s tons of students around this area, they wouldn’t-
One shrill scream makes you turn your head, only to catch three large wolves barreling down the sidewalk.
“How long was that spell supposed to last?”
“I don’t know! I have more-”
“Your should have thrown the whole bag at them-”
Jungkook looks behind him. The wolves are catching up fast. “Should I-”
“No! Don’t transform. Follow me!”
There’s a park by the university, a pretty spacious piece of green land sandwiched between high-rises, with a few trails that veer off the lighted pathway, making a perfect hideaway.
“Go!” Jungkook tells you to hide.
“No, you go-”
“I stay. We have to keep our distance, I’ll find you,” Jungkook pulls you into a crushing kiss, and you relent, sprinting away.
Seokjin said he wanted you all to himself, but that was a lie. No, the pack leader doesn’t want you apart, he wants you and Jungkook together, so Jungkook has to watch, so you hold back.
-🌑-
And Miss Manyo throws the entire contents of the water jar in your face.
You sit up, gasping for breath, coughing up water.
“You did it.”
“No dear, you did. though you’ll still have to pay me,” she winks.
“Y/n?” Jungkook holds your hand, gripping it tightly to ground you.
You wipe the water off your face. Jungkook catches your eyes, holding your face to make sure he saw correctly-
You smile, falling into his arms.
---
“There you are.”
You catch your breath, leaning against a tree. “And who are you?”
An auburn haired man you noticed was one of the men holding back Jungkook steps out of the shadows. His body was beaten up, his hair wild, cuts and scratches across his face.
“Jungkook really beat you up.”
“You’re quite the nuisance,” he licks his lips, red eyes glowing in the moonlight.
You caught another pair of red eyes from a silver haired man, moving languidly in the shadows, his eyes glowing in the blackness of the night. One more, there should be at least one more, you think.
You expected it to be Seokjin, the leader, but you see blonde hair instead, frowning. It’s okay, it doesn’t matter, you have faith that Jungkook can handle himself.
“You don’t have to do this, you don’t have to follow Seokjin.” You push off the tree’s trunk, moving into the open space. The group encircles you.
“But we want to see for ourselves what makes our Jungkook so-”
“-Possessive.”
“-Why is he keeping you?”
“-Why won’t he share?”
“-Show us that trick of yours.”
“-What makes you so special?”
They spoke together, dizzying you with words.
It was easy for a woman in this situation to fall victim to men, but you had the kind of power that made them hesitate, waiting for you to move first.
“Haven’t you ever felt someone love you?”
Met with silence you can only softly laugh. “I guess not...that makes me sad for you. If you survive tonight, you should try...”
The trio stares daggers into you, red eyes glowing, their menacing presence piercing through you.
You heave a low sigh, looking up towards the waning moon, thinking of Jungkook.
You guess now, you looked the same kind of menacing, though you did not feel it.
Under the moonlight you just felt...
Serene.
And ready.
---
You watch Jungkook curl weights in your living room, your laundry only half folded, his heavy grunting and muscles flexing proving to be too much of a welcome distraction. He has taken the witch’s advice wholeheartedly, training his already strong body.
“Can you help me?” he asks, wiping off his face with a towel.
You blink, “Y-Yeah, what did you want me to...”
Jungkook lays on his stomach, “Come here,” he says as he moves in a push up position. “Now concentrate,” he laughs as you settle over him, your arms holding tightly around his chest. “You’re already being...distracting,” he grunts, smiling.
You can’t help but giggle, impressed by his effortless pace. You were having too much fun, cuddling against Jungkook’s muscular back as he lifted himself and you up and down.
“Do you think that, um, after we do this,” Jungkook grunts, “after we stop them, you think Miss Manyo will be able to turn me into a human?” Jungkook asks you.
“Oh, I-I don’t know, I can ask her if there is a spell like that?” you hesitate. “Is that what you really want?”
Jungkook lifts you up and back down, “Yes.”
You hum, “Jungkook...You don’t have to change yourself, I love you just how you are.”
Jungkook stays silent, his mind already made up. Up and down you go. “Okay, if it makes you happy, I just want you to believe in yourself, I believe in you.”
“I love you.” He grunts, moving faster and you giggle, hugging him close.
---
Jungkook can no longer see you or hear you. Good, you’re far away now. He transforms.
Three wolves find him. Hoseok, whose human form took the worst of Jungkook’s attack, growls louder, his wolf form bleeding profusely, staining the grass underneath his paws red.
Their leader is fuming, barking and spitting, ready to show the youngest why the others bow their heads to him instead, why no one challenges him, what a lovesick fool the youngest was being. Even on that fateful night, if you hadn't interfered, Jungkook would have been beaten, broken, had submitted as he should.
And tonight, you’re not going to interfere this time.
He sent Namjoon and Yoongi to deal with you. The oldest and stronger members of the pack. He would have sent Hoseok, but due to his injury the second youngest, Taehyung volunteered. With still two more nights before the full moon, Seokjin was confident those three could handle you.
The leader barks obscenities, ‘Foolish traitor.’ Lunging forward, his teeth sinking into Jungkook’s body as he starts his attack. Jungkook bites back, and Hoseok and Jimin attack, the loyal wolves tearing into his body. Jungkook whips his head around, catching Jimin’s nape, flinging the wolf away, using the advantage of his massive size.
It was a test of not only strength, but endurance. How much pain could Jungkook endure, how many attacks could his body withstand. It was vicious how they bombarded Jungkook with attack after attack, showed him no mercy for his betrayal.
Hoseok fell first, his injuries overtaking him. Jimin fell next, and it was only the leader and Jungkook left standing, their fur soaked in blood. Most of it Jungkook’s blood.
Jungkook transformed back into a human, panting, doubled over and still on all fours, fallen to his knees. “Give up, this is your last chance,” he pants, weak and tired, issuing a very unconvincing threat.
The beast bares his teeth, stalking closer.
The beast’s mouth unhinges.
Jungkook digs his hands into the ground, grinding his teeth, pain overwhelming him.
Seokjin aims his fangs at Jungkook’s head.
Finding what he dropped earlier, Jungkook pulls out a small silver instrument from the earth. It was not sharp, it was not deadly. It was a tool humans used not for killing or even hunting.
Jungkook stabs the prongs of a tiny silver fork right into the roof his leader’s open mouth.
And then takes a butter knife, stabbing the beast’s open wound.
Seokjin howls.
Taking the opportunity, Jungkook runs to find you, abandoning his wounded leader.
---
You run, searching for Jungkook. You could smell him close, your senses so heightened you could smell his scent mixed with a revoltingly overwhelming amount of blood. You ran faster, tracking his scent, worried for him, clawing through branch and even through trunks until you crashed into a body.
Fingers wrapped around your throat, blood dripping over his hands and onto your neck. “Now, you die,” Seokjin says. He looks delirious, maddened.
You nails pierce into the leader’s forearms as you growl back.
Seokjin roars, taking the knife still lodged in his shoulder, yanking it out. The handle burns his palm, but he doesn’t let go, too full of rage to care, pressing it against your chest, using all his weight.
You’re stronger.
You knock him backward, pouncing on him instead.
“Have you ever killed anyone, pet?” he grunts, wheezing in laughter. “But Jungkook on the other hand, he could tell you all about that.”
“Stop, you’ve lost, give up.”
“Kill me now because I’ll never stop,” he hisses. “but you’re making a mistake. Do you enjoy your life locked up in that building? To go work in a different building, aren’t you bored? Doesn’t it feel suffocating? You could roam the world with us, powerful, unstoppable.” Seokjin looks up at you smirking. Plus, where you went, Jungkook would follow, he was certain of that.
Seokjin is right, and he’ll never stop. You lessen your hold on the leader, leaning away. “Y/n, get away from him!” You look up, seeing Jungkook run towards you.
“I’m sorry, Jungkook.”
Seokjin smiles wickedly at Jungkook, sitting up with you in his lap. “I’m sorry,” you repeat. Jungkook will forgive you.
It was supposed to be for him.
“What did you put on me?”
You move away quickly as Seokjin struggles to pull the necklace off.
But the spell has already been cast, it can’t be removed. The red gem glows.
Jungkook rushes towards your side, helping you to your feet. “I’m sorry, I know you wanted the necklace for yourself.”
---
“What does it do?” you ask.
The old witch laughs quite deviously. “It gives the wearer the ability to trap his beast. It’s what you wanted, right dear?”
---
Seokjin stands up, wincing in pain, his legs weak and stiff. He yanks on the gold chain, inspecting the gem.
“What did you do?!” Two red eyes look back at him in the swirling gem, an echo of a howl resounds in Seokjin’s soul. “You think this will hold me forever!?” he growls in disbelief.
“You better learn how to defend yourself in your human form, Seokjin,” Jungkook says, leaning against you for support.
“Or do you believe your brothers will still obey a weak human?” you say, holding tightly onto Jungkook.
Barking at his back, five beaten and broken beasts pace around. Seokjin couldn’t understand them, gritting his teeth, searching for power he did not possess anymore.
They were without a leader, they were hurt, and they were angry he led them down this path.
Jungkook looks at the remaining wolves. “Does anyone still want to fight us?”
You hold hands, united, a stronger pack than they ever were.
-🌘-
Jungkook sneezes. You giggle. 
You and Jungkook are having a picnic, enjoying the park in the daytime together. He pounces on you, hugging you close, rolling across your picnic blanket.
“Is he going to stay there all day?” You tilt your head back, looking far, far...far into the distance, eyes zoning onto the very spot an inconspicuous (yet very conspicuous to yours and Jungkook’s senses) human man hides behind a tree’s trunk.
Seokjin peeks his head out, and noticing your attention in his direction, he quickly hides again.
“Probably?” Jungkook says, kissing your cheek. He nips at your neck, his full attention back onto you.
You look up at the sky, sighing softly. You could still see the large skyscrapers of the city still around you. You close your eyes, enjoying Jungkook’s sweet attention, smiling.
Seokjin was right about one thing, you did not feel like the city was for you anymore.
---
Let me know what you think, can you guess who leads the wolves now? :P What do you want to see in part three for summer?
1K notes · View notes
hannarchive · 1 year
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🎆 HANNArchive 1st Anniversary BTS Fic Recs 🎆
So today is this blogs’ 1 year aniversary 🥺 I actually just made this archive for myself to save the fics i like and might want to read again one day. I didn’t expect to get so many notes and followers just from my navigation post that I made cause i literally forget everything I’ve read immediately and i need the detailed tag-system lmao. Like, i can barely remember what i read yesterday. 🙃 But I’m happy other people are finding my blog useful as well. ✨
Anyway, so i thought i’d make a fic recs list. These are the same fics that’s in my 💖 tag, which is my personal favorites, but i thought i would make a list thats nicer than just going through the tag.
✰ Like real people do by @bangtanloverboys (3.6k) Tae x Y/N, friends/colleagues 2 lovers. Fluff, slight angst, soft smut. ⋆ This is such a comfort fic for me, I too am lonely and touch starved where’s my taehyung ):
✰ Hunt me down by @bonny-kookoo (series, ongoing) Alien!JK x Human!Reader. Fluff, angst, smut. ⋆ I just love her stuff, go read all her other alien fics while you’re at it - and all her other stuff too!
✰ Reconnect by bonny-kookoo (12.5k) Exes 2 lovers, Singlemom!Reader, Dad!JK, angst, smut.
✰ Ignorantly, yours by @ot7always (10.6k) Alpha!Jimin x Omega!Reader -Werewolf AU, Best friends 2 lovers. Smut, angst, fluff.
✰ Knot today by @kinktae (5.8k) alpha!JK x virgin omega!reader - Werewolf AU, roommates. Mostly smut, pwp, with som angst and fluff.
✰ Colours by @lovelytaes-blog (Series) Singledad!Tae x Artist!Y/N - Angst, fluff, smut.  
✰ (1.5k drabble +) sorry (not sorry) by @angelguk (8.1k) Roommate!JK x Y/N - Smut with sprinkles of fluff and angst.
✰ The Sadness of things by @lubdubsworld (Series) Alpha!JK x Omega!OC - Arranged Marriage AU. HEAVY angst, smut, fluff (Please check the trigger warnings) ⋆ Listen, this nearly killed me. I cried several times and even full on sobbed at one point. Broke my heart but it’s so good! 😭 Edit: Find all of the chapters here
✰ War of hearts by @btswrckd (Series) Mafia!Tae x Y/N - Arranged Marriage AU. Angst, fluff, smut. ⋆ I really love the characters in this - despite some dark themes it’s quite entertaining and endearing how everyone interacts with eachother.
✰ Strain by @evangelene (Series) Taehyung x Y/N - Hanahaki AU. Angst, fluff. 
✰ Summer nights and morning dew by @jeonstudios (11k) Alpha!JK x Y/N - Werewolf AU. Fluff, angst. ⋆ This is so cute!!! 
✰ Out of the woods by @angelicyoongie (Series) WolfHybrid!Joon x Y/N - Fluff, angst, smut. 
✰ Nude by @btssmutgalore (Series) Fuckboy!Tae x Y/N - Smut, fluff, angst.
✰ Summer Nights by @marginalmadness (Series) RabbitHybrid!JK x Y/N - Romance, fluff, smut. 
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moonlitinks · 9 months
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What Fate Decides [Taehyung x Reader] [Part 3]
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join tag list for future works | masterlist of all works previous | next drabble
part 1 | part 2 | part 3 | part 4 become a member on my ko-fi page! or buy me a coffee 💞
summary: You're a beta in love with your best friend, alpha Kim Taehyung. Except you know that you can never fulfill his dominating urges, so you draw a line between the two of you. Cherish his small kisses and embraces until an omega has to come along.
Until one day, you're not a beta anymore. Now, it's nearly impossible to resist the protective, endearing alpha in front of you.
pairing: taehyung x reader
chapter tags/warnings: angst, fluff, alpha/omega, a/b/o dynamics, best friends to lovers, slow burn ish, smut, mature, swearing
note: sorry for the wait all <3 last part coming in a bit! thank you for being here and reading my works (I am forever grateful). If you want to hang out with me, check out my insta, and if you'd like to donate me a coffee, check out my kofi page!
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The accident turned you into an omega.
Okay, that’s kind of a lie. You were a dormant omega, apparently, but now you’re a real one. Or something like that. In truth, your face had been pale, and though the doctor’s mouth was moving, nothing seemed to register. Finally, you had been comfortable with being a Beta. And then suddenly, the world shifts it’s axis, it being Wacky Wednesday or something, and you’re an Omega.
You release a wry laugh. What a joke. 
A joke, because you lost your best friend.
A joke, because you lost your freedom. 
A joke, because you feel as if you just lost everything. 
The door swings open to your studio, and you watch as Taehyung is fumbling outside your doorway, hands in his pockets, peeking up from you from under his bangs. Though you normally wouldn’t think anything of it as a beta, the omega side suddenly sees it as groveling. An alpha hunching over and submitting to his omega. 
Ha. Like you’re his omega. There are thousands of them lined up already, begging for his attention no doubt. Adding yourself to the list among the more experienced, and beautiful, ones is a waste of heartbreak. 
“Do you want to come in?” You hesitate, and his mouth twists as he straightens. He’s tall. 
No surprise there. The only surprise should be that your omega is reacting to his height.
“You’re not on suppressants,” he starts, forming into a mother hen. “You have to be on suppressants.” 
God, you can’t even tell how much time has passed since the accident and he’s already making a list, throwing you into the omega life. And besides, it’s been like a week after you discharged? He was there every day at the hospital, but now that you could walk without any issues, he disappeared? 
“I don’t want to be,” you protest. “Why do I have to? I’ve never—”
Oh. Right. Because you’re different now. You sigh at the thought of the mundane life escaping further from your grasp. “Do I have to, though? Is there no other option around it?” 
That makes Taehyung pause from the doorway, and he turns around. 
“There’s this thing,” he starts, swallowing. “Called scenting. And you have a scent that can draw Alphas—”
“But you smell, too,” you wrinkle your nose. “And nobody attacks you or anything—”
“It’s not safe,” he repeats, but there’s a layer underneath it. Dangerous. Possessive. Raw. He growls, and you melt in his arms. Into a puddle of arousal, with the slick gushing out of you and the way your gut is aching. 
“Omega,” he thunders, and something shifts. He’s inching closer, and in the next moment, Taehyung’s kissing your jaw. Groaning. Murmuring, Omega. Let me scent you.
And you tell him—Yes. And when his mouth covers your gland and sucks, you cry out and clutch his arms.
“Fuck,” Taehyung groans once more. His teeth scrape the back of your neck, where your gland is located, and you babble incoherent words. “Omega. You smell so good. Taste fucking delicious.” 
This is not a good idea. 
But it’s one that your heart wants. 
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Taehyung knows he should contain himself. He has to be the alpha that helps his best friend find a suitable companion. But he can’t help but think that you’re his omega, no matter how much he attempts to think otherwise. He doesn’t want to ruin the dynamic he has with you, but goddamn, he’s attuned to every one of your movements. Like the way you’re curled up against him as the movie plays, legs on top of his own, and head leaning against his chest. There are small, barely audible throaty sounds coming from you as you watch the couple fight, clearly disliking it. And he can’t help but wonder how it feels to suck on your gland again until you’re smothered in his scent.
Then he can’t help but imagine you under him, knotted and preening. He already knows you’re vocal with your whimpers and sighs—and if you can’t stop squirming, he’ll pin you to the bed and bite your glands on your wrists… and rut into you. Fuck, he might not even be able to pull out to thrust back in. 
“Taehyung?” You murmur, eyes wide and innocent, most likely catching the way he stared at you. Like he wanted to devour you. 
In return, the alpha mumbles your name and rests his forehead on your shoulder. It’s hell, he thinks, jaw clenching. You’re wearing his hoodie and no shorts under it, and he’s breathing in your lavender scent, mind repeating: this is hell, but also what content is like. 
It’s insane, how much comfort you bring. You brought it as a beta, but you’re also bringing it as an omega. Taehyung kisses your cheek and embraces you, closing his eyes for a second. The fact that you’re alive and breathing under him—that is enough. It’s all he can ever ask of you, to just keep smiling at him. 
There are some things that changed about him. He started—and he knows that you noticed—calling you love, or baby. He buries his head in the crook of your neck constantly, making sure you smell like him and he you. Satisfaction thrums through Taehyung’s veins when he can smell himself on you. 
Knowing that scenting you earlier meant that you belonged to him. That all his members could smell who you belonged to. His Alpha loves it, too, instead of thrashing around and causing anxiety. Finally, his head quiets. No thoughts about coming home, taking care of you, making sure you’re well fed, rings through his mind. 
“I have something to tell you,” he blurts, and you glance up.
Fuck. He can’t take it anymore. Screw company guidelines. Screw what people thinks. He wants you. All of you.
You’re his happiness; there’s no doubt in his mind that fate put you together. 
“I love you,” he murmurs, placing your hand over his chest, directly where your heartbeat is. “You’re everything to me. My whole world. My—”
“Your omega?”
“My omega. Just like I’m yours, too.” 
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tags: @theblueslytherin @tatyhend @tinyoonsblog @vsmith0099 @midnightsora @cupcakesxdomjoon @likeshatteredrainbowglass @scuzmunkie @kookiwu @xjiminsthighsx @dreadity @lovelytaes-blog @noooodlllleeee @ggukkieland @namjoonshug @jaiuneamesolitaiire @hesmyphenominiall @hollyweird0
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chimcess · 5 months
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→ Chapter 3.5: When She Sees Me Pairing: Jimin x Reader Other tags: Werewolf!Jimin, Witch!Reader, Shifter!Reader, Shifter!Jimin, A/B/O Dynamics, Alpha!Jimin Genre: Supernatural!AU, Werewolf!AU, Angst, Mutual Pining, Fluff Word Count: 1.8k+ Synopsis: Within the four realms of Lustra lay the Bangtan forest home to the Foxglove pack of the south and known as the “land of magic.” It is also home to the Bridd, a powerful witch from a cursed bloodline who is one of the sacred guardians of the forest. Park Jimin is the man who's in love with her, and when their worlds collide in tragedy, he must decide if he is willing to put his old life aside to make a new one. Warnings: Jimin POV, Kissing, talks of sexual feelings (not exlipict), I love this man with my whole heart, just a boy in love, takes place at the end of chapter three of the main storyline, THAT scene, FLUFF, This was so much fun to write, to be in wolf Jimin's head... the dream. Disclaimer: While you don't have to read any of the series to understand what's going on, it won't make a ton of sense. I highly recommend reading this in conjunction with the original work, Trees That Wheep. A/N: On the first day of Christmas Lex gave to thee... Jimin's P-O-V. Thanks so much to everyone who participated in the poll I held. Hope this meets expectations despite her being on the shorter side. Happy holidays and stay safe.
|| Chapter 3 || Masterlist ||
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“Yours must be very interesting.”
I shook my head, “Not really. Mostly the angsty ramblings of a teenager. Nothing more.”
I sounded convincing enough. I heard Jimin shuffling around but refused to look his way. Deciding that I was done for the night, I began closing and stacking the grimoires I had taken out. I will sort through them later. Glancing at the walls, I could not tell what time it was but knew it had to be close to sunset. I needed to get to my room soon.
Going to turn, strong arms found themselves resting on either side of my waist. Shocked, I turned my head to find Jimin standing directly behind me. His chest pressed against my shoulder as I turned to face him. He had never been so close to me before. 
Jimin’s POV
Her chest felt soft against me, and I struggled to keep my nerve. Walking over here had been impulsive, my feet moving before I was able to think it over but having her between my arms made the potential embarrassment worth it. She looked so lovely in the candlelight and whatever she had been reading caused her shoulders to tense uncomfortably. 
Her eyes were wide, confused, and could not find a point of my face to stop on. I could hear her heart fluttering like a hummingbird’s wings and her scent made me force a groan back. She was so sweet, like vanilla, with an almost bitter aftertaste. I would compare it to whiskey but that was too strong. Tobacco, cotton, and vanilla came to mind. 
“Jimin?” 
She was so gentle when she said my name. Caressing it as if it were a precious secret. I leaned into her, wanting to hear her heart beating closer still. Drunk off of her presence, I found myself talking.
“Can I tell you something?” I whispered, just as softly as she had said my name.
Our chests touched and I moved my hands behind her back. Wrapping around her, I forced my hands onto the table. I was itching to hold her tightly but I was afraid of what might happen. Placing one hand on top of the other, I felt myself trembling. We had never been so close, and only in my dreams did I think this possible. Bridd refused to look at me, her breathing as heavy as my own causing me great pleasure. 
“Y/N,” I called to her, hoping she could hear all the ways I loved her within it. “Can I?”
Eyes locking, I had to grip my fingers to keep them on the table. I could smell the faintest trace of her arousal and it took all of my self-control to ignore it. She shivered against me and I knew she was feeling the same electricity that I was. I could hear her swallow, something I found oddly arousing, and she nodded.
Something was crossed tonight. The lines I had meticulously placed between us for years had come crumbling down ever since the day I came here with Hoseok. There was something about watching her walk around her home, her feet unable to stay still, while she worked that had struck me. Feeling her eyes on me, knowing that she wanted to watch me just as much as I wanted to watch her, unleashed this animal. The more primal part of my personality wanted to shout at Hoseok to leave us alone so I could take what was mine. The other side, the man, wished to sit and listen to her talk about the knives she loved to make, to ask her all of the questions I had been dying to have answered, and watch the way her eyes lit up. Realizing that we would never go back to a time before this, I decided to be upfront.
“I enjoy your company,” I had to tell her.
She nodded, dazed. Her eyes did not leave my own and she searched, ever the curious girl, for something. I had long ago stopped trying to figure her out. Instead, I hoped that she would tell me. I wanted her to want me to know her. With that in mind, I decided to destroy the walls between us.
“I like being close to you. Is that alright?”
“Yes,” She replied breathlessly, needily.
I leaned into her, drawing closer. Her eyes were hooded, heavy, and the lust within them brought me to my knees. She wanted me so badly, the smell of it clinging to the air adding another layer to her familiar smell. It reminded me of sea salt. I swallowed thickly and leaned in closer. Not tonight, I told myself, the grip on my left hand painful now. I could wait for that. I had been waiting for her for so long. 
“Do you want me to stop?” I whispered, so close to her lips that I could feel the ghost of them against mine.
I felt her hesitate. This was nothing new. Bridd had always kept her emotions for me on a tightly controlled leash. It had bothered me for a long time until I realized that she might have thought them foolish. I had never announced myself or made an effort to get closer to her. My own fears made me weak, but to have denied her this made me feel half a man. How could I have ever taken this choice from her? From us? Foolish. 
“No,” She said, her eyes already closing.
It would take less than a second of a second to lean forward. Such a small, inconsequential gap in time. A blink and it was gone. Nothing. However, as I leaned in I knew this small space would be burned into my mind. The anticipation, the way my heart sang and my hands trembled. Our lips brushed and my knees went numb.
Kissing her was unlike anything I had ever experienced. She was so soft, so warm, and frail beneath me as I struggled to keep myself at her eye level. Bridd sighed, her hands finding home on my chest, and I could no longer keep myself off of her. Wrapping her in an embrace, I wanted to cry from joy. Everything that I had ever wanted, wondered, and fantasized paled in comparison. None of it did this moment justice. With her hands twitching against me, her lips chapped, mouth dry, and breathing into my mouth each time we pulled away, I was certain I had never done something so right in my whole life.
She finally started pulling away, and I opened my eyes to watch her. She was so beautiful. Her eyes were glazed and not even half way opened. Staring at her, the candle light making the beads on her top shine prettily, all I could imagine to say was that I loved her. Instead, I bent over even more and nuzzled my nose into her hairline. 
“Thank you,” I mumbled, already thinking about kissing her again.
She, again, nodded, before leaning into me once more. Tiptoeing to reach my face, hands traveling from my chest to my shoulders, her eyes closing. Cupping her face, so small and delicate beneath my hands, I pulled her to my eagerly waiting lips. She grinned against me as I tangled my fingers in her hair.
Suddenly, I felt her tongue licking at my lower lip and the delicate balance I had been desperately trying to keep since I approached her tipped. With a strangled groan, I opened my mouth to hers and slid a hand from her hair to her hips. Sucking her tongue, I picked her up off of the floor and lifted her onto the desk she had been occupied with all night. I did not even think before my leg was forcing hers apart and making space for the rest of me.
Her hands gripped my shirt tightly and I wished she would go back to twitching against my chest. She felt more solid there, more real. Her mouth was wet and hot as we kissed, her tongue hesitant and shy while I knew I was being more aggressive than she was used to. Thoughts of her kissing another made me uncomfortable, so I kissed her even harsher to remove whatever they may have left behind.
Then she was shoving me away, ripping her lips from mine as she struggled to catch her breath. I took a few steps back, unsure what the problem could be. One look at her, however, and I was sure. The change was coming. 
“Go,” She choked, scrambling off of the desk.
A loud piercing scream called me to action. As much as I hated leaving her in moments like this, I knew it made her uncomfortable to have me around. Her comfort would always trump my own needs and wants- that I was sure. Running up the cellar steps, I threw open the little door and threw myself onto the living room floor. Closing the door, the tortured screams of my love were muffled.
My heart shattered as I listened to her, but I knew it would not last long. A few feet away, Taehyung slept soundly. I envied his ability to do that. Ever since I got here, I had found sleeping restless. With Bridd so close yet so far away it was impossible to relax.
A large, toothy grin overtook me. I would never sleep without her again. I would try my hardest to be sure of that. Her lips lingered on my own, tingling and swollen, and I never wanted the feeling to fade. I would make sure I always felt this way, every day, for the rest of our lives.
I could see it now, living here with her. We would cook dinner together, eat together, sleep together. For Yule we would put up a tree. For Litha I would tend her garden while she watched me from the window. We would have children, beautiful children that looked like her, and love them the way they deserved to be loved. My family would learn to live with my choices and my pack would always be my own, but I needed to be where my heart was. 
As her screaming turned to throaty croaks, I was settled. I would put my heart on my sleeve. For her, I would beg. What should have been said the second my wolf threatened to rip apart anybody who stood between us in that cave. When I nursed her back to health as she lay half-alive in her bed afterward. All of the times I had seen her since. Every dream, nightmare, and fantasy in between. 
Tonight, I would tell her that she was my mate. Tonight, we would never part again. Tonight, I would love her and hope she would let me. Tonight, and every night, I would fight to make her see that no one has ever loved another the way I love her.
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@greezenini@adventures-in-bookland@kthstrawberryshortcake-main@zae007live@jimin-neverout@nikkiordonez12@canarystwin@yamekomz@chimthicc@michiiedreamer@amorieus@mima795@yunki-yunki-yunki
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jwirecs · 1 year
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Recommended BTS Fics of October💖
hello, hello! here are my bts recs of october! hopefully these beautiful stories get more recognition as well as the writers 💝
** anything in parentheses and bolded are my thoughts that can be disregarded if needed **
🔞smut || 💔angst || 💕fluff || ✅completed || 🔄ongoing || 💯favorite
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Auburn Skies || @persphonesorchid​​💕💔✅💯💯
↳ Everyone knows that if your best friend has a little sister, she’s off limits. That, and the fact that your best friend will probably kill you if you even think about going near his sister. Yoongi knows this. There’s no way he could tell Namjoon that once upon a time you kissed him, drunk in his living room after a break up. So much time’s passed since then, too much time to bring it up now, but Yoongi still thinks about it, he’s still a little hopeful. Now you’re here and you clearly have something you want to say to Yoongi. Namjoon’s gonna kill him.
Sharing is Caring || @97erstan​​💕🔄💯💯
↳ Your bestfriend is diligent in his attempts at persuading you to let him move into your house. (i feel like this is going to be a best friends to lovers type of au so its going here)
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Match Made In Hell || @ughcore​​🔞💕💔🔄💯💯💯
↳ Yoongi truly can’t imagine things getting any worse than the predicament he has found himself in now. Betrothed to a woman he hasn’t met, career on hold and his parents pressuring him into marriage with a sharp stick, ushering him to walk off the plank into the fiery pits of hell that is arranged matrimony with some poor, foolish girl.
No Kisses || @icedmatchatae​🔞💕💔✅💯
↳ It's championship week! The most anticipated week of the school year; however, leading up to the events, you and your council must collaborate with the football team to promote school spirit and pride. Unfortunately, you're forced to work with your number one enemy, Football team captain and fuck boy, Kim Taehyung, known for having a mysterious "no kisses" rule.
Pick of the Patch || @taestefully-in-luv​​🔞💕💔✅💯
↳ You’re a struggling artist with a strong desire to escape so when your mother suddenly calls and asks you to return home to replace her in this years Harvest Festival dance, you never said yes faster. However, she informs you that you’ll be working with another dancer, Kim Taehyung and upon meeting, you decide you do not like him…but right when you think you could grow up and move past it, Taehyung makes it clear that he does not like you either
Whatta Catch || @aredheadedmess​​​💕💔✅💯💯
↳ One, two, three strikes you’re out. When opposing opinions find you roughing it up with the university’s star pitcher, he makes it his mission to show that you’re wrong about college sports—and maybe your feelings about the player himself.
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3:27AM || @untaemedqueen​​​🔞💕💔✅💯💯💯💯💯💯
↳ Request: This time a Yoongi one where he wakes up in the middle of the night to his s/o’s phone ringing like crazy so he checks it and sees it’s her ex. So he answers the phone only to prove that she’s taken by having sex with her with her ex on the phone. Can the s/o be overstimulated as well? (i have no words. clearly the amount of 100s says alot)
Quiet & Qualms || @sugafreeagustd-blog​💕✅
↳ Your quiet vacation brings your qualms to the surface.
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Drabble: Apple Bobbing || @kithtaehyung​​​​💕✅💯💯💯
↳ apple bobbing at an autumn fair, yoongi looks disgustingly hot all wet (part of the three tangerines series and i just need to take a deep breath cause dam. also i didnt have a fckboy section so its going in this section for the time being)
Confident || @h0neypjm​​​​​ 🔞💕💔🔄💯
↳ After giving Jungkook the best suck of his life he’s left wondering if what you said was true. Was it really your first time? ‘Cause Jungkook thinks you might’ve lied.
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Pretty Kitty || @sweetheartjeongguk​​​🔞💕💔🔄💯
↳ never in his life would taehyung have expected the shy girl from his history class to be the sex kitten on his computer screen. (brb let me take some deep breaths)
Tears Dry || @codebts​​​🔞💔✅
↳ “he walks away, the sun goes down. he takes the day, but i’m grown. and in your grey, in this cool shade, my tears dry on their own.” (authors note said it might be just one part, but who knows)
Touchdown || @flurrys-creativity​​​​🔞💕💔✅💯
↳ Being the club manager of your all inclusive college football team wasn’t always peachy but you loved it nonetheless. Until the new recruits arrived and turned everything you knew upside down. Especially the new star Jeon Jungkook had your mind spiraling
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The Deal || @untaemedqueen​​​🔞💕💔✅💯
↳ (there wasnt a summary and i suck at making summaries but like read it when you can! plus i swear i’ve read this but you know, it doesnt hurt to read this again)
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Forever, We are Young || @taegularities​​​​ 💔✅💯💯
↳ How would you imagine BTS to be in 25 years? Despite the fact that their disbandment happened half an eternity ago, there are still deep issues between the now grown-up men. Meeting after decades again, they know it’s time to settle them once and for all - but certainly not without finding each other all over again as well. (i feel like everyone needs to read this at some point, just to like idk mentally prepare them in some sort of way.)
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A Year of Sunshine || @herecomesjoon​​​​💕💔✅💯
↳ You had always talked about being parents, but you didn’t imagine it would happen like this.
An Affair of the Art || @raplinesmoon​​​💕💔✅💯💯
↳ One rainy day looking at art sets off a spiral of events Namjoon can’t control, leaving his heart for the taking (ngl i can actually picture him taking his kid to the museums. like that sht is cute af)
Daisy || @chateautae​​​ 🔞💕💔✅💯
↳ sleeping with your infuriating, unfairly attractive rival in art school? stupid. sleeping with him without protection? even more stupid. when you became pregnant with kim taehyung’s child at 21, your young lives suddenly derailed for the worst. fulfilling your parental roles early on proved difficult, but five years later, perhaps it was time to give your complicated relationship a second chance; not only for yourselves, but for your baby daughter—daisy.
Lullaby || @herecomesjoon​​​💕✅💯
↳ If Yoongi had his way, and he often did, he would stay up every night to take care of his little girl.
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Everything Falls (Into Place) || @blog-name-idk​​​​🔞💕💔✅
↳ Your new roommates are unbearably nice and unbearably hot. Good thing you're an adult who is fully capable of platonic friendships with the opposite sex, right?
Home || @vyduan​​​🔞💕🔄💯💯
↳ Uh, the OT7 supernatural filth but like cozy and middle-aged with a passel of children that no one asked for. Blame Park Jimin’s Folio Teaser (even though he’s not even in the scene) but like fuck him and fuck me. (the “fuck him and fuck me” part of the summary, i feel you. had me cackling, but i feel you)
Little Do You Know || @yoongiofmine​​🔞💕💔🔄💯
↳ In a world where idols and actors can’t date, whether it be because of contracts, lack of time, or the dangers that involve having your personal life leaked, the market opened up for a new work field. Playmate Agencies emerged to supply the entertainment world with highly trained companions for hire. Bangtan is looking for new playmates. And you just happen to be the one all of them choose. (cant wait for s2 of this)
Lost and Found || @flowerfangz​​​​​🔞💕💔🔄💯💯
↳ y/n knew basically living in the woods she was asking for some crazy things to happen but she didn't think the thing to happen would be two hybrids at her door asking for help in the middle of the night while one is injured. (expect a few ongoing fics from this author on this months fic recs cause LORD HAVE MERCY)
The Freak || @flowerfangz​​​​​​💕💔🔄
↳ having been in the fighting ring for years, the night started like any other one but you haven't met a hybrid like him, someone made so different like you. You expected the fight to go like any other but who knew the orange eyed man was your get away?
To Be Loved || @flowerfangz​​​​​​ 🔞💕💔🔄💯
↳ after presenting late, your parents were embarrassed by you. In hopes of saving their image they arrange for you to be married to their friend's son, who turns out to make your life hell for years until you can't take it anymore. You'd rather die trying to get away then die not trying at all. As you run under the blue moon you can't help but wonder what is it like to be loved?
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Coffee || @crownjimin​​💕💔✅💯💯
↳ the enemies to lovers social media au where min yoongi refuses to date a cheerleader, but yoon haryun might be able to change that.
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The Comforts of Creatures || @interesting-interludes​​​​​​🔞💕💔🔄💯
↳ you’re a prisoner here, but you can’t remember why. you can’t remember much of anything. not where you came from, not who you are, not even what you are. what happens when a pack of terrifying monsters breaks into the facility where you’re being held. not to kill you, but to…protect you?
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Caught in the Crossfire || @taleasnewastime​​​​ 🔞💕💔✅💯💯💯
↳ Taehyung kills people, he isn’t ashamed to admit it (though it’s not something he shouts about). To date he has never found a reason that someone didn’t deserve to die. That the person hadn’t committed some hideous act. That the world wouldn’t be a better place without them in it. But that was before he got sent your information. (AHHHHHHHHHHHHHHHHHHHHHHHHHHHHHHHHHHHHHHHHHHHHHHHHH.)
Crimson || @btsstan12​​​💕✅💯💯💯
↳ The time when the wind changes and you can feel poetry in the air is autumn. Autumn is also called fall. This time, maybe literally for Namjoon as he falls for the girl with her nose buried in a book. He navigates his small crush on her with crimson cheeks, crunch of leaves and the changing winds. (i am soft, this is so soft)
Fool for You || @btsgotjams27​​​💕💔🔄
↳ When Jungkook is finally single, you shoot your shot.
Make an Offer || @bangtanintotheroom​​🔞✅
↳ Money in exchange for companionship and fucking? It was an arrangement that you were comfortably taking part in with your current sugar daddy. But when you lock eyes with a stranger during a night out, you’re approached with an offer that could shake things up.  
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Bad and Sweet Trilogy || @helenazbmrskai​​🔞💕💔✅
↳ (no summary, three different one shots. i love)
Do check out all of the other BTS Fics that i have reblogged as well!!
** if there is any fics that you guys would like to recommend, please do! i am slowly running out of fics to read **
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hollyhomburg · 5 months
Text
Before I Leave You (Pt.64)
(Omegaverse au, Mafia au, Bts x Reader)
Summary: “Take your time, it’s not like I’m dying over here or anything.” “Shut up Jimin you are not going to die.”
Tags: Angst, Blood, graphic depictions of violence, dead bodies, Gore, Maiming, violent acts described perpetrated by loved ones, near death experiences, near death experiences, No one dies, Jimin does not die, Hurt with just a little comfort, implied sexual content,
W/c: 8.6k
A/N: I'm sorry that this chapter is a little shorter than usual after such a long wait. i've been going through a rough patch™ which is why recently the updates have been 3 weeks apart instead of just 2 like usual. When i tell you the end of this chapter has a fucking twist to it that i love, you're not prepared!
Previous part - Masterlist - First part
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“I shot Minnie.”
It takes you a breath for the words to sink in. Standing in the bathroom in the half-grey darkness golden hallway light streaming in through the open door. It’s strange how inside of your body you feel at that moment.
That frantic fever urgency of your pulse, your breath, your everything when traumatic things are about to happen and when they’re happening.
For a moment you’re keenly aware of every molecule of your body. The tacky-sweet feeling of slick drying between your thighs, the cold smoothness of the slate tile beneath your feet, the too-long press of your fingernails as you grip the bathroom countertop to keep from falling to the tile floor. Everything in feverish detail.
you catch a glimpse of yourself in the mirror, the light from Yoongi’s phone screen illuminates your face in blue. You look at the mirror, then down at your hands.
Minnie, a gun.
A bullet, Jin.
Your brain is whirling. Putting two and two together is like putting together a recipe. Only now you have the result and have to backtrack. How did you get here? Jin keeps talking, word vomiting down the line, and you miss a few sentences while you’re trying to put it together.
Butter, cream, sugar.
You, Jin, Jimin.
Jimin.
You think you might vomit tiramisu all over the bathroom floor.
You close your eyes, thinking hard while Jin talks. His words run over themselves with worry. “I discharged my weapon if we go to the hospital- they’ll- they’ll know and I don’t know if I can cover this up with just lies-”
“Is he dead?” Your voice is lethal in its quiet, so quiet that you think it might not go through the phone. Jin doesn’t hear it- too preoccupied with his own terror.
You close your eyes, quietly begging anything or anyone who might be listening. If god is going to take so much from him- the least she can do is give jimin this. One simple measly miracle is all you're asking for.
“Jin- tell me right the fuck now- Is Jimin dead?”
“Pup.” Jin sounds like he’s just been strangled. Like all the wind has just been knocked out of him. “Put Yoongi on the line.”
“No.” You're shaking, your heartbeat in your ears louder than your lofty hopes. Hand digging into the counter so hard that you feel it in your bones. “No, not until you tell me right now- is Minnie-”
“Hey pup.” Jimin’s voice is a quiet croak. You sag against the countertop and slide to the floor. It’s barely a weak whisper on the other side of the line. You’re glad it’s not a video call. You’re not sure you could handle seeing him if he sounds so raw. “Minnie- Minnie are you? does Jin?”
Does Jin know?
Jin must have taken back the phone because- “I need you to go get Yoongi. Now. We can’t be here any longer than necessary.” there's the muffled sound of shuffling, of hair grating against the speaker. "We're vulnerable here, I don't know if more people will come."
You move, leaving the bathroom and thundering up the steep stairs to the bedroom. There's the distant sound of Hoseok in the kitchen probably putting away the tiramisu. You head for the nest, rushing, falling to your knees in front of it, phone pinned between your shoulder and your ear.
“Yoongi isn’t here. He’s with Jungkook and Tae and Namjoon.”
“Hang up then and I’ll call Namjoon.” You peel back the nest skirt to get under it, where Jimin keeps his gun cases. They're there in the shadows, three of them black and plastic. A photocopy of his concealed carry license is taped to each on top. No one had been particularly happy about him storing them there (Namjoon especially) But now you’re glad to have them close on hand.
“No, not until you tell me where you are.”
“Pup this isn’t- you can’t-”
“Jin, please.”
You try the same code that Jimin has for his cellphone. You know it because you have a habit of going through his after your dates for some of the photos that he takes of you and Tae.
8-7-5-8.
The box clicks open and you roll your eyes. Alphas.
“Pup” you wait for him to say that he needs more help than you can offer, that carrying Minnie and keeping him alive is more than you can help with. You wait for him to say that you’re neither strong enough mentally nor physically to handle this.
But it doesn’t come. Jin’s tiny fraught sigh is there, but then-
“Alright.”
There are spots for five different handguns inside. Two missing vacant cuts into the foam. You take the smallest one, checking stock to make sure it's got bullets in it. You fumble with it, unsure and unused to this. You make sure the safety is on before you tuck it into your waistband.
“Send me your address. And if you need to- get rid of Jimin's gun- god only knows whats on that.” To Jin’s credit, he hardly splutters, hardly takes in another shaky breath.
“How do you know-” You descend the stairs slower. Screwing your eyes shut tight to keep from crying, leashing your voice into something gentle.
“Jin, Minnie is bleeding. You have more important things to worry about right now. We need to figure out how to keep Jimin alive and undiscovered.”
“You know-”
“Yes, I fucking know about Jimin, okay? We’re wasting time. Bye.”
You hang up on him. Your hands are still shaking and you spend a breath looking at them. You want to call Yoongi. Your body aching for your mate's touch, for how steady he makes you feel just by being there. the way he tucks your hair behind your ears, the way his hand is always hovering near the small of your back to guide you- to options that won't hurt and secrets that won't damage things.
You need your mate for this, already your pulse is hammering. The haze of a panic attack on the edge of your vision. One second foggy fear, the next heartbreaking clarity.
Maybe you know how this ends, you know why this is happening even if you try and ignore it. Maybe you realize just then what's going to happen. Not today but eventually, it turns you cold from the top of your head to the tips of your toes.
You might not lie to the pack (lying by omission doesn't carry the same weight) but you lie to yourself often.
You will call Yoongi, you decide. You pick the phone back up and navigate towards Tae’s contact. Your thumb hovers between her name and Jungkook’s. You don’t know if you’ll be able to keep your voice steady calling her but Jungkook will almost certainly be able to tell something's wrong just from your tone alone. He's perceptive like that.
Before you can make the call something moves in your peripheries.
There is a dark figure in the doorway, silhouetted by the light coming from the front door and the bay window. It makes you startle but at second glance it’s just Hobi. You look down at him 3 steps up the stairs. Yoongi's phone in your hand and a gun at the small of your back, covered by the fluff of his sweatshirt.
He doesn’t say anything, doesn’t ask who you were talking on the phone with. He just tilts his in question, eyes teaming with that warm sort of playfulness.
You have a decision to make; let his opinion of the pack remain what it is or change it for good. In an irrevocable way that you won't be able to take back. It feels like too much change too quickly. Barely an hour ago he was telling you he loves you and now-
The thing about secrets is that they’re terribly hard to keep.
Hobi notices, because Hobi always notices when there’s some sort of change in you or a shift in your mood- call it a survival instinct if you won't call it love.
The set of your jaw is less pouty neediness and more leashed discomfort. Your expression is the same one you had when tae came out and you sat with them at the table and told them for you. You'd think that telling other people's secrets would be easier but it isn't.
Hobi knows your tells. What it looks like when you're about to play your hand. Ace's and all.
You descend the last few steps, each one thudding, making sure you're on the same level before you slowly wrap your arms around his waist. You do it slow even though you feel every second like a gunshot wound. Like every second could be Jimin’s last heartbeat.
(thump thump thump)
Pulling yourself in tight. His hands smooth up and down your back. You could call Yoongi but-
Hobi looks down at you, pecking your forehead. He smiles softly, his lips twisting into something like a grimace because you smell a little bit sour. Doesn't mean he's not going to kiss you but-
You wonder how many times he’s kissed you already, it's only been a day but you’re already losing track of how many, maybe 2 dozen now. His eyes flicker from your mouth to your eyes then back again.
“Do you wanna tell me what’s wrong? Or are you just going to pout at me until I go get Yoongi?”
You shake your head and close your eyes hard. "Don't get Yoongi."
Stealing yourself just a little and hold Hobi a little closer, a little harder. But there’s nothing you can say, no lie that you can tell that will make this better. No secret that you could confess either.
“Jin called and something bad has happened.”
You feel more than see the goosebumps on Hobi’s arms as you pull away, the visceral hard swallow as he looks at your face again, waits, expecting you to pull back say-“It’s a joke it’s nothing-“ But it doesn't come.
“You have two choices Hobi, you can go to the pizza shop, and hang out with Tae and Jungkook and Namjoon and Yoongi or-” Hobi searches your face for something he knows; the darkness in your eyes, the vague tremble in your arms around his waist. “Or you can help me and be scared. I kind of-”
I kind of need you
But Hobi should have agency in this and shouldn't just take this path because of you. After Yoongi, you've learned when and where to give people the choice to be dragged into things they'd be better off sidestepping. You don't say it but Hobi hears it all the same.
Hobi looks so earnest but asking this of him is no easy thing. It would be easier if you weren’t so keenly aware that you’re taking away something from him. You’re giving Hobi the choice you never got that Yoongi never got, and he'll choose the same path anyway.
He cups your face, skimming his thumb up and down your cheek.“I’m okay with being scared.” I'm okay with being scared so long as it's for you.
“This is serious, this is- you can’t ask questions until I have time to answer them, you just have to listen, understand?”
“Okay.” He nods, tousled hair fluffing, looking so innocent and eager to please that you almost tell him to just stay home.
But as much as you hate to admit it. If Jimin is injured, there’s a chance you and Jin might need a second pair of hands.
It’s a blur. Tugging on your shoes- the same ones Yoongi got you ages ago for your first date with Jimin and Tae. And when you stand, he’s holding out your jacket for you to step into. When you nuzzle into the collar there's the scent of vanilla there from where Jimin rubbed his nose to your throat when you were at the hospital. It doesn't seem possible that it was only yesterday. Everything is Jimin Jimin Jimin.
“Thank you,” you say, sounding vaguely hollow. He kisses the nape of your neck and you put your hand over it.
You point your feet in the direction of Hobi’s car and get in the driver's seat. Taking his keys from him because you need them, need to be the one who drives right now. Holding the steering wheel and controlling the acceleration. Pressing down as fast as a heartbeat.
Thumpthumpthump.
You pull away from the house with a screech hitting the curb with a bit of flying sparks. you don't even wait for it to warm up. Hobi’s hands are on the plastic console of the driver’s side, holding it to keep himself from bobbing before he's belted in. He looks over at you startled. But he doesn't ask you to slow down.
You keep your eyes on the road, blinking back tears. Controlling your emotions because you can’t drive through blurry eyes. Every inch, every tick of the needle, every second of pavement screeching tire means you're a second closer to jimin.
"Jin’s going to send you an address in a few seconds, and I need you to tell me which way to turn.”
Hobi looks at you and then looks at the phone. He doesn’t try to put on a playlist, he doesn’t try to do anything just stares at you and bobbs in his seat when you take a corner too fast.
“What are you looking at me like that for?”
“Nothing; you’re just driving like if we don’t get there in time, someone is going to die.”
~-~
Hoseok remains remarkably calm for the drive, barely saying anything except for the winces he lets out every time you do something risky with the car like take turns at 30 miles an hour or evade a break check by driving along the shoulder.
You start to pass by empty factory buildings. The wheels of his car thudding over cracks and dips in the road until it becomes dust and gravel and the smell of gasoline permeates the interior of the car. Questions building like the heat pumping from the vents.
But he did promise not to ask until later.
The fog covers everything like a balmy damp shadow, the snow going straight to sublimation. Pockets of old street lamp lights punctuate the darkness. Husks of metal rise like soldiers from the shadows. The sky burning rust orange from the distant lights of the city. Not a single star in sight.
Jin’s car is there; Hobi spots it. Its blue paint stands out through the overlap of grey brush as the car's lights roll over it. Jimin's car is another 50 feet away and buried in the darkness. Shiny and black like the husk of an insect.
You're about a mile away from where they must be doing demolition. A singular crane and floodlights shine across a narrow tributary casting everything; the river and the buildings, into a grey-slanted light.
You pull around in the yard in front of the largest and most intact building. You leave the keys in car tumbling out the second it glides to a stop.
“Stay here.” You say, but Hobi gets out anyway. He hasn’t noticed the gun tucked into your waistband until now. It makes his pulse tick higher when you take it out.
"Hobi, sink or swim?"
He looks down at the gun in your hand, "Swim." You shake your head like you're angry with yourself, not him but you don’t waste another second arguing. You head off following the disturbed dust and Hobi trails behind. Ducking from pocket of light to pocket of light.
He always wondered what happened to the gun you’d pointed at him that night you’d run away. That train ticket that still burns a hole in his pocket, a distraction maybe from larger questions he should have been asking.
The way you hold the gun is not practiced; and why should it be? The only one who knows how to handle guns in the pack is Jimin. But the way you walk; completely silent is heartbreakingly familiar. Hobi knows how and why you've learned to move quietly. It's almost a dance; the way you glide across the floor. The gun is an extension of your arms. Spreading and flaying like a wing. Pinky to trigger, your index finger balanced along the barrel.
Hobi had always assumed that it belonged to Yoongi. It was almost 6 months ago now, wasn’t it? Hobi had almost forgotten about it.
There are some things that you never forget. Trauma makes his bones quiet. He's not as good at walking silently as you are but if the crunch of his red Converse against the gravel bothers you; you say nothing.
Hobi feels like he should have asked more questions about it at the time, but now he just bites his lip and stays quiet. You'd promised. You'll tell him in time. Hobi trusts you.
That's the worst thing, isn't it? That Hobi trusts you.
Jimin is sitting in one of the puddles of light, leaning up against one of the containers on the ground floor. Alone. You let out a quiet bereft when you see him. You and Hobi pause in the doorway. Your hand on the gun goes slack
“Minnie!”
you run to him, tucking the gun back into your waistband and falling to your knees at his side. Fingers finding wet-dark fabric. Not water but blood.
Hobi stays there in the doorway, his pulse thudding through his ears, an odd sort of peace to him as he takes in the details. The blood that pools dark on the dusty floor.
Jimin’s half covered with dust himself. Something wooden and red in his lap. The blood that’s dripped down his shoulder gathering there. There is a dragged-through patch of dirt a few feet away, more blood, and Jin is nowhere to be found.
Minnie’s eyelashes flutter. “Alpha-” you say. Almost sobbing in relief that he's alive. Alive you can handle. Alive you can work with. You bend down, getting your hand on his cheek. "Hey- wake up for me a sec okay? We're gonna get you out of here-"
“Hey pup” he laughs half delirious with pain, wincing like making the sound hurts him. “You came to the party" he coughs. "Did you bring Tae?”
You pull back to look at him. “Tae?”
Jimin grins, eyes fluttering closed and his pretty face tipped up against the light. His lips have blood on him- and it looks like a disturbing imitation of Tae’s lipstick. The shadows she leaves on your mouth, on his.
“Yeah- wanna tell her I love her. Wanna tell her I’m sorry. Could you tell her for me?”
This is something Tied tourniquet tight around Jimin’s shoulder to keep him from bleeding out. something you didn't immediately notice. You stare down at the vest now- at the yellow patch letters slowly darkening with blood.
FBI, and then in smaller letters; Organized crime division, Dir. Kim.
Jin appears from around the corner, covered in dust and blood across his thighs, and his throat. So quick you barely have time to raise the gun and then put it down when you see it's not some stranger- someone sent from Yoongi's family to tie up loose ends.
Your hand tightens on the gun as you stare at Jin.
The sleeves of his button-down shirt are rolled up to his forearms and black nitrile gloves cover his hands; same as Jimin's- although one is ripped. His eyes flick from you to Hobi and he almost flinches.
“Jesus fucking Christ-” Jin looks back at you. “Did you have to tell Hobi?”
You bristle “I didn’t tell him anything yet. That’s how you properly protect people. Instead of you know-” The insult doesn’t make sense and neither does your anger. Jin is your pack omega but it doesn’t feel like it when you grab his lapel and shake him a little. He doesn’t move, You’re too slight to alter his course.
Hobi stumbles to your side, hand on your shoulder and Jin's. The pack omega almost flinches at the touch.
“Will both of you swallow your god damn pride and-”
The three of you fall silent when Jimin reaches up to grab your thigh.
Jimin's hand on your wrist goes vice-tight, and when you look down at him, he's more lucid. More there through the haze of pain and blood. "If anyone has any right to be mad at Jinnie- it's me."
You stare Jin down, and after a breath, he's the one who looks away from your glare, taking your hands from his coat and gently detangling them.
"Let's just get him to the fucking car." You bite out. And you get back on your knees to gently guide Jimin away from leaning up against the metal. Get your hand around Jimin’s good arm and start to try and tug him to his feet. His eyes follow you fever bright. “Tell Tae that yourself when we get you out of here.”
the three of you get jimin on his feet. Jin under his good shoulder and Hobi by his hip you there, grabbing Jimin's gun and the mask from the ground. Hobi almost trips on a piece of metal.
He’s being so good with this so- so normal. Making pregnant and stressed eye contact with you when you look at him but stay mostly silent.
Jimin’s car keys fall onto the dusty earth just as you get to Hobi’s. placing jimin gently into the backseat before you stop to pick them up.
“My car; they can’t find it here.” You glance at Jin, then Hobi, looking grey.
“Someone needs to be in the back of the car to stabilize you. you can’t just be flopping around when we drive to the-” You break off because oh this just got so much worse; there’s no way that Jimin’s going to be able to go to the hospital. Even with injuries like this.
You make eye contact with Jin again, and both of you realize at the same time, the mountain of evidence that must be inside it, but you're only the three of you- if you take Jimin's car and Hobi takes his and Jin takes his own- no one will be there to hold Minnie and keep him stable. But who knows when you'll have a chance to come back and get Jimin's car.
If the authorities find his car and the body still inside that building. There's no shortage of what they might be able to convict Jimin for. If there was ever a time that you needed another person it would be right now. You should have called Yoongi.
You look up at Jin, “Get rid of it, we just have to-”
“The river-” You stand there, two opposite sides of the same coin both grinning because it's a good plan.
“If we sink it, they’ll never find it.”
A couple of miles away where the floodlights shine, they must knock over something large because you hear the boom and feel the tremble in the earth.
You take everything out of the car first, throwing it into the front seat of Hobi's car. Hobi tries not to think about the items too hard. The sniper rifle, the 3 bulletproof vests, or the ski mask. There's a variety of other equipment underneath the false bottom, arranged perfectly, everything has its spot. An empty tranquilizer gun. Ropes and black trash bags.
The three of you work like a polished team. Moving the car as close as you can to the water Near an old dry dock that flooded, where the soil turns soft and spongy.
It’s hard to push even though you put the car in neutral. the three of you still have to put all your weight into it. Jimin waits in Hobi’s car, parked on the edge. Watching your sluggish procession.
“Take your time, it’s not like I’m dying over here or anything.”
“Shut up you are not going to die” You snap. The line of the doorframe digs into your shoulder as you push with all your might, putting all of your anger and betrayal behind it because it has nowhere to go otherwise.
Jimin really isn’t helping. Hand pressed over his bullet wound, blood slowly dripping from between his fingers.
Your feet fight against the muck, sliding through it, cold and gross around your ankles. Water soaks your socks.
“Seriously I’m bleeding all over the interior. gonna have to get it detailed after i'm gone.” Hobi picks his head up from the other side, grinning at you. You think it’s the first time you’ve even felt a ghost of a smile grace your face since you got the call. He has no idea how much you need that smile.
“It’s red, won’t stain. Don't worry minnie.”
“Your concern for me is glowing.” He's smiling but Jimin’s hand is knuckle-tight over his shoulder.
“Shut up.” you grind out.
Once you get going downhill it’s easy to push the car, down down down until you hit the muck, knee-deep in the fowl-smelling stuff. You walk with it into the icy water. Hobi’s sweatshirt is so big on you and it billows around you in the brackish water. Weighing you down like an anchor in a storm. You guide the car and the cold water is up to your waist. The car thuds and then shudders, bubbling as you get it deeper and deeper.
"That should be good. Come on."
You think you’re fine until you try to pull away from the side of the car and can’t.
Hobi is already cutting through the water back towards the shore, his back to you. You can’t move, and the car is sinking inch by inch. Slowly dragging you along with it. Some corner of your sweatshirt snagged on the doorframe or hooked.
Your hands move scrabbling. Trying to find the spot at your hip where you’re caught. But you can’t see, the water is so dark you can't even see your hands below the surface. Is it terror or just the cold that makes your hands so uncooperative?
You haven’t even had time to cry out before there is a body behind you, hand closing around the spot where you’re snagged under the water, ripping the fabric with strong hands.
Jin’s hands don’t leave you once he’s untangled you, grabbing your hips and dragging you back, back through the mud and up to the embankment. His hand on the back of your neck, “I’ve got you pup, you’re okay, you’re fine.”
Hobi’s already standing up there, soaking wet too. The dust pills on your pant legs and behind you, the car gives one last gurgle. Disappearing for good.
In the dusty darkness, you look at Jin. His gaunt face, soaked with muck like you are. The ends of his hair clumped together, muddy. You blink up at him and he blinks down at you, water in his eyes.
Jimin and Hobi wait, watching you both stand there. Suddenly the gun in your waistband feels too heavy to carry any longer.
Jin closes his eyes, screwing them shut tight like he's waiting for you to shove him again. “Before you yell at me, you should know that Yoongi already knows, about me being an FBI agent. He's known since the beginning."
there is a moment of silence where hobi looks from you to jin. But then You collide with Jin burying your face in the front of his shirt. He swallows past the lump in his throat. One bloody hand comes up to touch your hair and cradle the back of your head.
“Pup- we don’t have time, we have to go. Minnie-” You pull back, eyes wet.
“Alright- alright- just- we’ll meet you at home?”
Jin turns to Hobi, nodding. Hoseok stoops, putting Jimin's legs in the back of the car, they're shaking. All of Jimin is shaking. His body is in shock from losing so much blood and from the cold.
“Don’t speed, I’ll be right behind you. Don’t give anyone a reason to pull you over.”
~-~
(Namjoon.)
The inside of the pizza parlor is balmy with the smell of cooking dough, garlic, parmesan cheese, and Jungkook's happy sunny scent. So at odds with the cold outside.
Namjoon watches Tae and Jungkook giggle and act like pups. Heart clenching the way it always does when he looks at the pack. They smell like roses and honey, like spring days far away now in winter but Namjoon can already feel the spring warmth thawing his tiredness left over from work. A haze to the edge of his vision like he's feeling bumble-bee fluff and sucking honey from the air.
Hope is hot and necessary like sunlight, and Namjoon has a whole lot of it for the future right now. and good for him honestly- it's the last easy breathes he's going to have for a good long while.
He can't believe it. You and Hobi. His body gives an involuntary happy shiver.
Yoongi catches it and raises a knowing eyebrow.
The pack is willing to wait here and give you and Hobi a little more time to sort things out. They've given you hours, they'll give maybe one more. They've already taken Tae and Jungkook out for ice cream. Dessert before dinner has both of them sugar high and hyper.
The pizza parlor is mostly empty- there are no glares or looks as they laugh loud and try to imitate a dance, jungkook's phone propped up on a napkin holder.
Namjoon and yoongi don't join in, they just stare at each other. Yoongi looks like he might be a little bit in shock, the scent blooming every few seconds, sweet chocolate cocoa when he thinks of it, and salty worry when he reaches over to check Tae's phone- just to see if you've texted.
Namjoon knows, and so does Jungkook because Jungkook knows everything.
“I can’t believe they actually-” Jungkook snorts, this isn’t the first time Yoongi’s repeated those words, he’s been muttering it under his breath every few minutes for the last few hours, mostly to himself. Jungkook indulges him this time.
“I know- I thought they’d be emotionally constipated for at least another month.”
Jungkook’s hand is nearly permanently glued to the back of Yoongi’s neck, squeezing reassuringly every few seconds. Even as he and Tae giggle and fall into each other, watching back their video on Tae’s phone. Her sparkly phone case catches the light, and little bits of glitter fall and trickle slowly just like the snow falling outside.
Namjoon's thoughts slush slowly.
Namjoon feels settled down to his bones, in that deep-seated alpha way that he’s not sure he’d be able to articulate even if he tried. Nesting tonight is gonna hit so fucking well. Namjoon is going to scent both you and Hobi until he can feel the sex and pleasure on his teeth and tongue, might just need to taste your arousal for himself. He'll be sweet about it and give you a little wiggle room just to put you back in your places. He feels half feral wanting it already. If he's not careful a scenting like that might send Hobi into rut or you into heat.
Namjoon's almost trembling at the idea of it.
God fucking damn it, he's so in love it hurts a little. He’s sure that Yoongi feels the same deep calmness, the sense of rightness, thinking about you and Hobi.
Yoongi’s lopsided grin says It finally fucking happened. Namjoon’s dimpled smile says, I know, I’m surprised we didn’t have to orchestrate it. They don’t have to say it, the soft words would be swallowed up under the music playing over the loudspeaker (the idol group that Jimin guards- their newest hit).
Their knees are nested between each other’s on the too-small table and too-small seats. Namjoon’s big palm on Yoongi’s knee all tight. His hand over the pack alphas, tangling and playing together in a way that Jin would call flirting without words and Tae might call poetic.
The pack took one car to the pizza place, Namjoon's, gathering snow outside. Probably a bad move honestly because Namjoon is on call. The surgery this morning went off without a hitch, clipping aneurysms on a middle-aged alpha usually goes off without a hitch because Namjoon is quite good at his job. If anything happens post-op Namjoon will have to leave them stranded here.
As Namjoon watches something crosses Yoongi’s face that looks a bit like confusion, his hand leaves Namjoon’s to settle on his hip. Eyebrows pulling together.
Huh? Is it the mating mark?
Their food has just arrived, cauliflower pizza for Jungkook, a messy calzone for Yoongi, and his own meat-filled slice when his phone buzzes in his pocket. Namjoon smiles seeing Hobi’s contact, and answers it. It’s you on the line when he picks up.
“Whatever you do, don’t put me on speaker. Don’t react. Just go somewhere where you won’t be overheard by anyone.” Namjoon's smile falls instantly.
Something about your tone has goosebumps rising on his arms. inexplicable, whether it's instincts or just the fact that Namjoon knows your voice and has never heard you sound like this that tips him off he's not sure.
You’re in the back of Hobi’s car, Jimin sprawled across your lap, your fingers stroking down his cheek, your other hand putting pressure on his bullet wound. Jimin lets out these little hiccupping breaths and in the front seat, Hobi’s eyes flick to the two of you. Your pause your call to soothe him, letting him inhale big settling breaths of your scent. Nose and mouth pressed hard to your wrist. Teeth biting down because Jimin needs something to muffle his pained growl.
"Just hold on Minnie, I know it hurts. We’re almost back to the house."
Namjoon hears it, and his whole body goes cold.
You can say many things about the pack, about pack alphas and pack omegas, but listening goes both ways. Namjoon would never dream of disobeying you when you talk like this. Namjoon stands and walks to the door mechanically. Only when he’s outside, cold air swirling around him, does he speak.
“What’s wrong?”
“Something’s happened," Namjoon closes his eyes "-and I need you not to tell the others. I need you to come home and leave Jungkook and Tae. Jimin's hurt and we need you.”
Namjoon feels the moment the tense breath in his chest sticks there and he realizes you’re not joking. Jungkook looks up, furrowing his eyebrows at Namjoon in the dark window. The snowflakes falling catch the lamplight around him, dotting his red sweatshirt like the reverse of blood on snow.
There’s a pause and then, “There’s a lot you don’t know, but I need you to hurry.”
Namjoon nods then pauses when he realizes you can’t see. He’s not sure he’s ever heard you sound so serious.
“Do you understand why I’m asking you this Namjoon?”
Namjoon has always been an honest alpha, even when it doesn’t stroke his ego. “No.”
“Because if Tae sees what’s happening, she’s going to need someone to comfort her, and everyone needs to be focused on mini right now.” Your voice trembles, breaking. Below you, Jimin smiles, leaning into your arm. Babbling little and delirious from pain and blood loss.
“Love you so much Tae- wanna be your mate- wanna marry you too if y/n lets me- wanna have your pups."
"Jimin. You are an alpha. You can't get pregnant." Hobi says dryly from the driver's seat, making a very careful left turn that's so slow that it garners a honk from the people behind him.
"But Tae could at least try-"
You close your eyes against the lights of the highway, and across your lap you feel wet soaking into your pant legs. You don't look down, You know it’s blood. It’s so warm, spilling across your knees like sunshine. Bubbling up with every heartbeat.
You don’t know how much more blood Jimin can lose before it’s critical, which is why you need Namjoon.
“-And if Jungkook finds out the stress could make him have a seizure.”
Namjoon is silent on the other end of the line. Completely quiet. Frozen on the sidewalk outside of the pizza place. Above him, the pastel blue pizzeria sign buzzes and flickers. Namjoon inhales the cold air, his exhale coming out warm and steamy visible. When he turns to look inside Yoongi is already staring.
Namjoon must look devastated because Yoongi shoots to his feet. Saying something to the others before he heads out after Namjoon. The bell clinging until he's right there reaching for the phone.
“I’ll see you at home.” You shut your eyes tight. “Bring Yoongi too. I need him.”
The phone in Namjoon’s hands buzzes and when he looks the call has disconnected.
~-~
It's a good thing that most of the snow has melted off or else you’d have a harder time concealing Jimin’s bleeding form as you pull into the driveway. You’re barely outside for a handful of seconds. No curtains move in the shuttered windows of your neighbors. No one is in the cul-de-sac, not even Noodle is waiting for you on the rock wall.
There is no red trail in the snow, just a few drops that land on the dark slate walkway that you’ll clean up before morning. The porch light is off and Your hand leaves a dark imprint on the railing as you rush to open the door for Jin and Hobi, supporting Jimin between the two of them.
But the door opens before you can get to it.
"Joonie!” Jimin's tone drips with false cheer, grinning at the pack alpha and your mate standing just inside the house. As Jin and hobi half drag and half carry Jimin inside and out of sight. Blood dripps down the side of his face from his temple to his chin.
“Holy fuck” your mate mutters. Out of Jin and Hobi and you- you easily have the most blood on yourself. Your pants are soaked through with it and muck from the river, even your hair feels wet and sticky. You must certainly look like a sight, like something out of a nightmare or a bad memory- yoongi can take his pick.
(In truth, the sight of you blood soaked brings up only one other night in yoongi's memory; a night just as tense and pain filled as this. the night you killed Geumjae. This won't be the last time Yoongi sees you soaked in blood either. But at least next time the blood you'll wear won't be the packs and you'll be wearing it as a king and not a pawn).
The drive must have truly taken a toll on him because the second the door closes behind you Jimin’s knees give out and his eyes roll back, passing out as the last bit of energy vanishes from his body. Hobi almost falls with him, but Namjoon and Yoongi are quick to come to his aid.
“Quick- the table.”
Yoongi clears the dining room table with a simple swipe of his hands, sending the bowl of tangerines scattering, rolling like many mini suns across the hardwood floor. They put him down as gently as they can, but Jimin's a puppet with his strings cut. Namjoon swoops in, more trained than any of you, grabbing Jimin’s ankles and holding them up above his heart.
"Come on- Minnie- come on " Namjoon reaches over to tap Jimin’s cheek, gentle once and harder the second time, more of a true slap. Jimin gasps awake, but he’s only half conscious. It’s twilight, his eyelashes fluttering face pale. Mumbling Tae's name over and over again.
"Jin, hold his legs up for me- here"
You’ve never seen Namjoon move so mechanically, so professionally. He's already wearing sterile gloves. His black doctor’s bag cracked open and full of gauze and other medical paraphernalia. The skin around the bullet wound is pinched with blood. Gushing fresh as Namjoon cuts away as much of the tourniquet as he dares with a pair of kitchen shears.
Jimin’s head lolls to the side.
Namjoon lets out a single wet noise. You haven’t heard him cry in so long, you don’t realize that’s what it is until you look at his face.
Your mate’s face is pale and gaunt as he looks at you over the dining room table. “Didn’t you tell him anything?”
“No- I wasn’t sure what to say, I-” Yoongi’s eyes flicker down to Minnie, then up at Jin who looks like he might be about to pass out himself. Holding himself away.
“Who shot him? Did someone corner you? Jin-”
Jin lifts his chin about to confess but before he can Namjoon snaps “Everyone needs to be quiet- please.”
Namjoon places his stethoscope oh so gently to jimin's skin Even the slight action makes Jimin’s face twist in pain. The whole pack is quiet and still, like statues.
The moment passes syrup slow, And Namjoon moves his stethoscope an inch to the left, then the right. Only then does he toss it down onto the floor. Grabbing a sterile towel from his medicine bag and presses it hard over the bullet wound. Closing his eyes and grimacing before he stuffs it, fingers and all into the bullet wound.
Jimin jerks violently, howling, nearly thrashing in pain if it weren’t for Namjoon and Yoongi and you holding him down. He flails, hitting you in the face knocking you back.
Hobi catches you before you fall. “I’m fine, it’s okay just- help them hold Minnie" your hand over your hot cheek. It will probably bruise- but you don't even care as you watch as Namjoon pulls himself onto the kitchen table, putting his full body weight over the bullet wound to try and stem the bleeding.
“He needs a hospital. We need to pack it and then take him there. He’s lost too much blood.”
"We can’t- all bullet wounds need to be mandated reported.”
It’s not all that large of a hole to be honest. Maybe a finger with on the back side and a little smaller at Jimin's front because Jin shot Jimin at such close range. It’s a threw and threw. Even though Namjoon packed the front his back still leaks steadily.
“But Jimin will live, whatever’s going on-” Namjoon shares a glace with Yoongi Jin, then you- and you watch as it dawns on him. “wait- You do know what’s going on, theres something you're not telling me.”
It's accusatory but you nod while Jin and Yoongi stay placid. Namjoon looks once at Jin again then at you, deciding who he trusts more to correctly gauge the odds.
Namjoon looks at you, waiting.
“If the wrong people find out Jiminie is- that he’s-” you pause, and Jimin grimaces, there is blood on his teeth, in his mouth. “It might not just be him hurt by the end of it.”
“But we can’t just let him die.”
Hobi just stands by the couch, your nest just tousled as you’d left it what feels like a lifetime ago. for the first time that night- hobi breaks.
"Oh my god Jimin's going to die-"
Jin's hands are in his hair, yanking, "Tae is going to kill me-"
“Shut up, no one is dying yet. If he dies on us I’ll kill him myself.” you scoff, holding Jimin’s wrist, his hand. “I won’t even bother with a gun I’ll just..."
You fall silent with a sudden intake of breath. Yoongi's head whips in your direction. Jin too looks up from where he was just bowed, realization lighting his eyes up bright.
The three of you share a look and for a second, the only sound is Jimin's blood dripping. A little faster with every heartbeat. Down the leg of the kitchen table onto the floor in red rivulets.
Drip drip drip.
(What you don’t know about Jin and Yoongi’s tentative agreement is that even though they know about each other- they've still been on either side of this. They’ve never worked with each other, never shared querying glances like this. It's a special secret language that thieves and secret killers share.)
Yoongi follows your line of sight to the kitchen. The knives sit sheathed in the knife block. The same ones that he bought Jin as a fancy courting present years ago. The same one's Yoongi sharpens before he cuts the meat that the pack eats for samgyeopsal and bulgogi and shabushabu.
A sharp cut is an easy cut to fix, unlike a blown-apart cavernous bullet wound.
“No.” Is your first reaction. Even though it was your idea. “It’s too dangerous.”
"It won't work." is Jin's response. Namjoon glances from you to him. He hasn't yet realized what you're talking about. doesn't posess the same finess for bloodshed that the three of you do (the three of you could conquer the world, you just haven't' realized it yet)
"It will work." Yoongi straightens. there are whispers of darkness on yoongi's face. a childhood he doesn't talk about in his eyes. a childhood filled of blood and less kindness than you'd think; for it to have made a man like yoongi; who knows how to be gentle because he's felt every kind of unplesantness there is.
"I've seen it done before. A long time ago but still- it works."
“What,” Namjoon snaps. "Are you guys fucking talking about?"
“There’s another option.” Yoongi’s hands are on Jimin, holding his wrists down. his other hand tucking his hair behind his ears and kissing his bloody cheek. His hands are getting colder and there isn’t much time. He’s quiet for a moment, lips pressed to jimin's skin, before he looks up. None of you want to say what you’re thinking.
“A good stab wound with a larger knife, through and through will disguise the bullet wound. It will stop him from bleeding any more. No one will know that Jimin was shot and we can take him to the hospital."
Namjoon’s scent is sour, sour, and acrid and it makes Jimin arch in pain, face twisted. He still doesn't understand why no one must know that Jimin was shot. Still doesn't understand that it was Jin who shot him. He'll learn later over hospital coffee but for now, he misses the blood-soaked and cut up FBI vest laying in a heap on your dining room floor. No yellow left on it- just red.
“Oh, absolutely not. I’m not letting anyone stab anybody."
Jimin’s head lolls on the table. His mumbled words fall on deaf ears. “Stab away….might as well…already stabbed through the fucking heart from Tae" (how could Cupid be so cruel?)
"Joonie look at me." Your hand is on Namjoon’s arm, his shoulder, the back of his neck and he rounds on you. Alpha aggression striking before Namjoon can reign in his instincts. He almost snaps his teeth at you. You don't react at the alpha baring his teeth in your face because underneath it all is the panic of a child, a pup who's terrified he's about to lose his family (a sinking feeling in his gut that says maybe, he already has.)
You understand, you know what it's like to feel that way.
Your voice is so calm and gentle. “Namjoon- you just have to trust me. If we take Jimin to the hospital and if they have a reason to take his fingerprints. There is a very good chance Minnie will go to prison. That I will go to prison- that Yoongi will too.”
Jin blinks, eyelashes fluttering. And Namjoon is silent, Hobi's silent too. All of them watching you. Your hands are steady, and your eyes are clear. The clearest they've ever seen.
“There is a lot we haven’t told you. But you need to trust me.”
It’s then that he spots it. Yoongi’s tone is dark as he yanks the wooden mask out of Hoseok's hands. Yoongi would know those masks anywhere; the one that the family gives its employees. This specific type is to delineate a non-relative. The specific kind is the mask that killers wear.
“Where the fuck did you get this?”
You look up at him, “it’s Minnie’s.”
Yoongi’s chest heaves, breath coming quick and fast. “No, it’s not- it can’t be.”
Namjoon’s teeth look particularly sharp when he snaps. “Does anyone but me give a fuck about Jimin right now? Or do you guys only want to pretend that you do?” The rest of the pack watches Namjoon as he ties a new tourniquet. A better one. he can't meet your eyes. quiet and furious as he pulls the knot tight.
“There are too many ligaments in Jimin’s arm, you could cripple him.”
“What other choice do we have?"
“So thats it?” your voice is a shred past hysterical, “we just take him to the hospital and let him go to jail, or let him bleed out and die here?”
The four of you stand over Jimin, on the kitchen table, the spot where you’ve eaten dinner and broken bread and loved each other for the last year. A place of nourishment and love now a place of pain and terror.
You walk three strides to the kitchen and grab the largest steak knife from the kitchen block. Your eyes dark and determined as you stare them down.
"I'll do it if you won't! I'm not letting Jimin go to prison!" you blink tears out of your eyes and there is a moment of silence, a moment where everyone just looks at you.
There is a warm body at your back, a strong chest and long arms that you know circling your waist to pull you back against them. Rubbing soft down your stomach as another comes up to guide your hand. long fingers that curl around your small fist. Grabbing the knife and guiding it, syrup slow out of your grasp.
"There we go" hobi says, words whisper soft.
It's like his words break the spell. “Give me that thing before you hurt yourself.” namjoon snaps.
Namjoon holds the knife and everyone watches as he walks to the pack's liquor cabinet. grabbing the nearest highest proof bottle that he can find and pouring it over the kitchen blade.
“If anyone’s going to do it, it should be me, because I know where Jimin’s joint is.” The pack nods, agreeing. Scattering.
You toss a rag to Jin. “Wipe the gunshot residue from your hands before we get to the hospital. Wipe Jimin’s too while you’re at it. Just in case.”
Namjoon holds the knife in the kitchen. You all have some amount of Jimin’s blood on you and he blinks from the table lucid.
“Yoongi,” Namjoon asks, staring down at Jimin, knife in his hand. “Go outside and warm up the car. You’ll drive because you have the steadiest hands besides me.”
You and Jin and Hobi are silent, everyone just watches namjoon for a second. Yoongi hesitates, turning back in the doorway. "Do it from behind that way Jimin can say he didn't see who stabbed him."
Namjoon nods, looking down.
There is Jimin’s blood on the doorknob and the floor. You wonder who’s going to clean it up.
“Yoongi,” Namjoon asks, and your mate starts, running out the door, leaving it open so that the cold can slip in. Namjoon’s hand tightens on the knife.
Jimin grins up at him from the table, eyelashes fluttering.
"Do it."
~-~
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Notes:
the line "A faceless god, if you’re going to take so much from him- the least you can do is give me this." is a call back to a line all the way in the beginning of the series where tae writes "the least you could have done was leave me whole" about yoongi.
the beginning feels a little drawn out but honestly i feel like it's such a traumatizing moment that it makes sense. the beginning was one of those cases that i read it so many times i can't tell if its ass or gas- so it's up for you to decide. i like the later parts of the chapter a lot better.
All things said, hobi is taking this incredibly well.
I was such a sleepy bunny editing this this morning! i'm sorry if there are more errors than usual.
ooh they fighting~ this might be a little bit of a /oh shit/ confession- but i greatly belived that the m/c would have killed jin had she thought that he was actually trying to kill jimin for being involved with the mafia like- one wrong move on his part and she might have shot him. they're gonna forget about it and nothing will change between them but god- that moment where he comes around the corner could have gone so bad if she was a little more trigger happy.
honestly i started to hate this chapter halfway through editing it, if there was ever one that i needed you to show love to its this one god 😮‍💨 i never thought i'd feel out of practice writing this sort of thing.
are the funny parts out of place? do they break up the terror too much or just the right amount?
I cannot take credit for the methodology behind how they hide jimin's bullet wound. i will confess this is copied from an episode of Elementary- ie the american version of sherlock. i tried to look it up if you could possibly conceal bullet wounds this way and didn't find anything so you're just gonna have to trust me.
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bonny-kookoo · 7 months
Text
Jungkook
TERRITORIAL. | Pretty Baby
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Who would've known that the big bad wolf isn't actually all that bad?
Tags/Warnings: Punk!Jungkook, Wolf!Jungkook, Good girl!Reader, Dom!Jungkook, Sub!Reader, Corruption kink, strangers to crushes to lovers, Fluff, Adult themes
Length: uuuh long idk
There is no taglist for this fic.
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Strawberry milk is your favorite.
It's always been a comfort thing for you- just like certain snacks or fabrics make you feel comforted, strawberry milk gives you that little bit of extra braveness at night after work has ended to finally make your way back home into the safety of your apartment.
But tonight, it's a bit different. Tonight, there's a group of vamps outside, clearly trying to agitate the wolves who've been ruling the streets for a while now.
It's not actual gang-behavior. They're not actively fighting or anything, there's never any guns or other violence involved- at least not on the surface. Underground, you're sure this must be a different story- but on the streets, the wolves play the tune everyone else dances to- the vamps only occasionally trying to provoke something, which never actually happens.
But that doesn't mean it won't tonight. Maybe tonight's the night it'll escalate.
And on nights like this, you sometimes feel like moving into the big city was a big mistake too, because this seems so normal to everyone else around you.
Back home in your little town, there wasn't anything like this at night. People would go to bed at reasonable times, you'd know every neighbor by name and house number, and you never had to fear going home alone. But here, things are different. Here, things are a lot more dangerous, especially as nothing but a human with no connection to either group.
You kind of want to stay neutral- even if, deep down, you feel more drawn towards the wolves with their more laid back approach to life.
Outside the small convenience store, you throw away the empty bottle of strawberry milk, before you reluctantly make a few steps- looks from a few vampires immediately making you retreat however, pulling out your phone to appear occupied. You can hear them snickering amongst each other already, laughing and talking, making comments about you.
You can't do this, fuck that.
You look around a little, when you notice someone from the nearby wolves looking back at you- a young man, golden eyes a tell-tale sign of what he is, as he sits on his bike that's perched up on it's kickstand. He's watching you, but not in an intimidating way- he's more so calculating it seems like, scanning the situation before he looks towards a friend nearby, who nods, some others nodding as well as they move closer.
He's got his hands in the pockets of his jacket, beanie hiding the slightly faded blue-ish strands of hair. Everyone of the tiny group appears relaxed and non-threatening. But there's a certain confidence in them that intimidates you a little as they walk closer.
That is, until he smiles at you-
and his black tail behind him wags, swaying from side to side.
"Alright guys, can we make some space here for the lady to pass through?" He asks towards the group of Vamps, who laugh, before they reluctantly make space for you to walk. The young man carefully moves to walk a little behind you, the other's shielding you just as much on the side that's turned towards the blood-dependent human variants. It just confirms to you that yeah, you're definitely more drawn towards wolves.
"There we go. Is your home far?" The young wolf asks, still keeping a respectful distance towards you.
"Uh.. no, not really." You deny, and he nods. "Thanks, by the way." You bow to him and his friends politely, everyone just waving it off- though you can see all their tails swaying a little. It's honestly.. cute, if they didn't all look like they could probably break your neck at a moment's notice.
But they don't. Instead, they all agree to your request to walk home now by yourself, and let you go-
though you can feel one person's eyes on you for a little longer, and when you turn around, he smiles that smile again.
A smile that's just.. genuine.
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You meet him again the day after at the convenience store, though he's sporting a fresh scratch on the top of his cheekbone. He doesn't seem to be in too much pain as he spots you however, having just bought your typical strawberry courage to go home tonight. "Do you always work this long?" He wonders, and you nod, sitting down next to him at the narrow table at the windows of the small store. He's been eating something, bowl now empty though, faint redness on his lips the last remnant of his meal.
"What happened?" You ask, pointing to your own cheek, when he seems surprised, touching his own before hissing at the sting. "No don't touch it-" You whine, before you look for something in your bag, opening another, smaller, makeup bag. "here- or... do you want me to help?" You wonder, making him nod and lean forward with a faint smile on his lips, hands holding onto the chair he's sitting on between his legs as he closes his eyes so you don't feel watched.
As you clean up the scratch and put a bandaid on, you kind of have to think about the fact that he seems awfully.. less threatening than you thought he'd be, considering he's a wolf from the big city. But maybe the one's you know from the smaller towns are just.. a little too full of themselves, pride getting the best of them.
"Oh-" You suddenly say, noticing the little cartoon fish on the bandaid you just placed on his cheek.
"What, 'oh'?" He wonders back, and you hold out another bandaid to him so he can take a look.
"I'm sorry, I didn't- I forgot I only have those…" You mumble a bit caught off guard by your own actions. But he just laughs, giving it back to you with a smile and shake of his head.
"It's fine- they're cute!" He simply shrugs, not bothered by it at all. "Thanks." He offers, tail swaying behind him. "So- can I ask what you work as?" He wonders, and you nod, putting your stuff back into your bag.
"Just data management. It's pretty boring." You shrug to yourself. "But I can work by myself and I like that." You explain, zipping your bag shut before you look at him again. "Although.. I might have to get myself maybe a dog, when I go home at night. A big, scary looking one you know? But they've got to be nice so I can bring them into the office with me.." You mumble, drinking the last of your milk as he turns his body to face more openly to you again, a playful smirk on his lips.
"How about I'll be your big bad dog then, huh?" He flirts, tail swinging side to side behind him. "Though I'm probably not allowed in the office.." He laughs, especially when you roll your eyes and still smile at his joking attempt at flirting. It was a joke.. right?
"Ha-ha." You say because of that, though he just widens his eyes, feigning innocence.
"Hey I'm serious!" He offers, leaning a bit closer. "I could take you home every night- and if I can't, someone of my pack could do the job instead."
"I- I'm probably not even gonna stay in the city for too long." You sigh, playing with the fluffy pom-pom ball attached to your bag. "I don't like it here very much.. it's too.. I don't know. I don't belong here.." You mumble.
"Maybe you've simply not seen the good parts of the city." He shrugs. "I could show you some."
"And by some you mean your bedroom?" You sigh, looking at him with a bit of an attitude- and he can't help but be intrigued by that little hint of spice you seem to have, underneath your pretty visuals and rather introverted appearance.
"If you'd like to visit, the door's always open for a pretty girl like you." he purrs, and at that, you clearly turn shy. "..And I don't ever open that door for anyone but myself, typically." He adds on, and at that, you look back at him, searching for the deeper meaning of that statement-
and you seem to find it, in the warmth of his eyes and the slight redness to his ears.
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"Have you ever been a backpack before?" Jungkook asks, as he waits outside of your apartment, one helmet on his bike and the other in his hand.
"Uh.. no-" you say, honestly never having heard the phrase.
"Would you like to try?" He asks, motioning towards his bike, holding out the helmet. "Got this one from a packmate. Should fit you." He says, black and grey tail wagging as you take it somewhat reluctantly. "And I'll drive extra careful too." He says, helping you put on the helmet properly before his hands adjust the strap under your chin.
"What if I fall off?" You worry, but he just laughs, putting on his own helmet. You notice that his hair seems freshly dyed- nor black.
"Not if you hold on to me." He explains, sitting on the bike after putting up the kickstand. "Hop on- I'll keep it stable." He reassures you, as you somewhat awkwardly climb onto the back of his bike. Only when his hands pull yours around his middle do you notice he's only really keeping you both and the bike stable with his feet alone.
And it makes you wonder how strong he might be.
"There we go. You'll figure things out as we go, trust me." He chuckles, small speakers in his head connected to his own too so you can talk properly. "Good to go?" Be asks, and you nod-
That is until his bike roars to life, and you instinctively cling onto him for dear life as he turns to drive off onto the main road.
He laughs. You're not sure what's so funny.
"Oh look at Jungkookies new passenger princess!" Someone jokes suddenly over the speaker, and you look around just to find three people on bikes as well at the same red light.
"Nervous?" Another voice asks, and Jungkook growls a little in front of you.
"You're making her nervous, hyung!" He complains, making the stranger's laugh. "Don't worry, they just want to mess with me.." he mumbles towards you, hand squeezing yours for a little in comfort.
"Yeah of course, after all Jungkook's finally all grown up!" The first voice laughs. "Finally up for an actual relationship now, fuckboy?" He asks, and at that, you grow a bit nervous.
Fuckboy? Relationship?
Just who is Jungkook really? You've got no idea. Sure, you've texted over the past few days, but you basically know nothing about him. He could just try and get into your pants, maybe that's his whole thing- maybe he likes them innocent and stupid to have a quick fuck and then drop them again. With looks like his that must be easy.
You're easy.
"Please don't listen to them, they're just assholes-" He tries to explain as the light finally turns green, but you're quiet, and Jungkook has a feeling that something's wrong. "You okay?" He asks occasionally, but you just nod and move on, not really up for talking anymore. He just wants to screw you anyways. Maybe he really is just a big city wolf down the line.
The scenery is nice, but you don't really feel like enjoying it too much as you just want to go home right away again. It's something you do- you hide from things, because confrontation just ends in you being at fault all the time. And maybe, this time, you are at fault.
You shouldn't just trust someone like that. You both barely know each other.
He parks at a gas station, turning off his bike in a more secluded parking area, before he takes off his helmet, and helps you take off yours too.
"What's wrong?" He asks, hair a bit wild, but eyes serious as they look at you, reflecting the light from the neon signs a little like mirrors.
"Nothing." You shrug, avoiding eye contact.
"He was just messing with me. They're always like that-" he tries to explain, and as you sigh, he knows that that's exactly what must've set you off. "Listen, I won't stand here and tell you I'm a church-going virgin because I'm not. Yeah, I fucked around, because sex is fun to me." He shrugs, and you're caught off guard at how boldly he says that. "But that doesn't mean I can't take things seriously." He offers, finally catching your gaze again. "And I want to take.. you seriously." He offers you, but you're not sure.
"...why?" You wonder. "Cause I'm pretty and innocent?" You jab at him. "Cause I'm the small town girl you can corrupt and then drop after you finally got into my pants?" You accuse. "Sucks to be you, I'm not a virgin anymore. I've had sex already, and for me it's not fun." You deny, crossing your arms almost defensively, though you quickly move your hands back on the bike as it moves slightly the moment he sits on it again, facing you however.
"I don't care about that." He tells you. "I won't lie that the corruption part isn't something appealing to me-" he chuckles, as he tests the waters, hands on your thighs not moving, just resting on the tops of them. "-But I'm not dropping you, if you ever let me have you." He purrs.
"What if I'm not ever letting you have me?" You respond, trying to act tough so he won't think you're easy.
"Then that's your choice." He nods.
"So if I say no right now, you'll leave me alone?" You ask.
"Depends on what you say no to." He shrugs leaning back a little, your legs feeling cold without his hands on them. "No to sex? Alright, we won't fuck then." He explains. "No to being with me? Cool, we'll just stay friends then." He goes on.
"No to me entirely?" He offers, eyes unreadable. "I'll accept that, and back off."
"That easy?" You ask a little caught off guard, and he nods. "So you're.. huh." You mumble to yourself, defeated. So he's not even up to put any effort in you. That's slightly disappointing, and honestly makes you feel a little ashamed even.
"So what is it?" He asks, and you shrug.
"I don't know." You answer honestly.
"Then how about I'll work for it?" He smirks, and you look at him now. "Let me take you out. Let's go on dates, I can take you to pack meet-up's so you can get to know those assholes better, hell, I'll even have you meet my mom if you want!" He excitedly proposes to you, tail wagging, hitting his bike occasionally. "Just- you seem really cool. Exactly what I've been searching for." He explains a bit softer now. "Let's try.. okay?" He asks.
"... okay." You answer, and at that his lips turn, part in a happy grin, before he gets up from the bike and punches the air once in his excitement before he returns.
"Okay!" He giggles to himself, helping you back into your helmet. "I know an awesome place to get some food-" he instantly rambles, kicking up the stand for his bike again before he drives off with you-
Eager to show you that he's the one for you.
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sailoryooons · 4 months
Text
Red | Teaser | KNJ (m)
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☾ Pairing: Werewolf!Namjoon x f. reader
☾ Summary: For as long as you can remember, your village has been relatively normal. But when people begin to turn up dead right after a group of newcomers arrive, pieces of your past start to fall into place, and something feels familiar - particularly the quiet man who can't take his eyes off of you.
☾ Word Count: 21,148
☾ Genre: Supernatural, thriller, smut
☾ Rating: 18+ Minors are strictly prohibited from engaging and reading this content. It contains explicit content and any minors discovered reading or engaging with this work will be blocked immediately. 
☾ Disclaimer: All members of BTS are faces and name claims for this story. This is entirely a work of fiction and by no means is meant to be a projection, judgment or representation of real-life people. Any scenarios or representations of the people and places mentioned in works are not representative of real-life scenarios.
| Masterlist | Ask | Make Me Your Villain Collab |
Read Completed Fic Now
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The hairs on your arm stand up when you see him. Wind lifts the edge of your cloak, making it flutter around you. You watch as he walks down the main street with the other travelers, eyes flicking around as he drinks in the buildings and the crowd of villagers coming to welcome the traders. 
As though he senses your staring, his head snaps to you. You feel frozen to the spot, your fingers tightening on the fence as you meet his eyes. They’re unfathomably dark and yet… a tingle of familiarity slithers up your spine. You clench your teeth to stop from shivering, mind flipping through a catalog of names and faces to place why he seems so familiar. 
You've never seen him, though. You’re sure of it. You’d remember a handsome face like that anywhere. His long, dark hair is pushed back from his face, revealing a sharp jawline, a strong nose and intense eyes. His lips are red from the cold - pretty against tan skin.
He’s tall. Taller than most men in the village and broad, with strong shoulders and thick arms, though it’s hard to tell underneath his tunic. 
The man doesn’t break eye contact. His mouth begins to tilt in what you think might be the start of a smile when Hoseok throws himself into the seat next to you, startling you. You break eye contact, looking at Hoseok who bites into an apple, offering you one. 
“You frightened me,” you snap, a little irritated at being distracted. When you glance back up at the man, his attention is elsewhere. “I told you not to do that anymore.”
“What were you staring at anyway?” he asks, crunching bits of apple. 
“Nothing,” you murmur, eyes on the flexing back of the man as he helps unload a wagon near the inn. Something niggles at the back of your mind. I know you. “Nothing at all.” 
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dearly-somber · 6 months
Text
It’s An Affectionate Thing | j.jk
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-> pairing. wolf shifter!jungkook x human!reader (f)
-> genre. fluff, f2l (friends-to-lovers), pining, unrequited love, eventual romance
-> w/c. 2183
-> rating. 13+
-> a/n. this one was an excuse to write biting because 🤭
-> warnings. N/A
-> collection. mini-series
-> started. Jun. 30th, 2022 @ 18:21
-> fin. Jun. 30th, 2022 @ 22:23
-> edited. Jul. 5th, 2022 @ 00:46
-> divider credit. @mmadeinheavenn
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Jungkook is… weird, to say the least.
He just randomly came up to you in class one day, sat his ass down on the edge of your desk, and started talking to you like it was a normal, everyday routine. Which it was not.
As you got to know him, he only got weirder.
If not for his clinginess (which was admittedly strange considering you’d never met a guy so touchy with a girl who wasn’t his girlfriend), you’d say his strange habit of rubbing his head against you was probably one of his weirder characteristics.
And it wasn’t even in a creepy If-you-don’t-get-away-from-me-immediately-I’m-going-to-call-the-cops kinda way, but more so a confused, what-the-fuck-are-you-doing kinda way. He’d hug you and not so subtly rub his cheek against yours, or he’d hold your hand and make up some dumb excuse to nose your wrist (he kept insisting that you were wearing perfume when he knew you didn’t).
One time—while hugging you—he pressed his face into your neck and just… inhaled. He hasn’t done it again after you unceremoniously shoved his face away with a warning not to do it again unless he wanted to keep both his eyes, but it was beyond weird and (dare I say) creepy (at the time)
He also quite literally growled at one of your classmates when he was being a misogynistic, sexist piece of shit and wouldn’t leave you alone. And sometimes, when he’s being a brat and moaning about how you pull away too quickly after giving him a hug, he whines. Like, back of his throat, puppy-begging-for-food kind of whine.
This in of itself would be somewhat bearable, if not for his friends. They were equally as weird, if not weirder.
There were eleven of them total, seven guys and four girls—all living in the same house near the edge of town. And despite already having such a large group, they were completely unwelcoming of outsiders, too tight-knit to allow others into their ranks. People had suspected that they were in a polyamorous relationship, or that it was some weird sex cult. They hadn’t ever specifically said that they were dating amongst themselves, and being the secretive group they were, they didn’t bother acknowledging nor denying any of the crazy school rumors.
You didn’t wanna bring the rumors up with Jungkook and make him uncomfortable, so instead you chose to ignore them and pretend they weren’t there. Jungkook tried to introduce you once, but you’d seen the way they looked at you—how they glared when you walked into the cafeteria with Jungkook glued to your hip. You’d come to the nifty conclusion that they did not like you, and as much as you wanted to make Jungkook happy by letting him introduce you to his inner circle, you didn’t wanna crush his little heart by being immediately rejected.
Coming up with excuses to avoid them was hard, but if they were anything like their youngest, it was probably for the best if you kept your distance, anyway.
How you wished you’d been able to stay away for longer.
“Jungkook, I really don’t wanna go to your house.”
“But we have to go somewhere, and you already told me that your parents don’t like me.” He whines, his big bambi eyes and pouty lips making you internally groan.
“That’s because they think you’re too clingy.” You state matter of factly, deadpanning your gaze to his arm, tightly wrapped around yours.
Grinning sheepishly, he tugs you in the direction of his housemates. “C’mon, it’ll be fun!” They walk a few meters ahead of you, shoving and pushing each other while talking, rowdy laughter echoing behind them. Your heart aches for a moment, watching them enviously. They look close…
“Are we gonna be able to get anything done? There’s like. Twelve of you in one house, thirteen plus myself.” You watch them retreat further and further ahead of you, your and Jungkook’s feet dragging as you fall behind. “They don’t exactly seem like the quiet type…”
Jungkook frowns at the (hopefully) unintentional dig, clearing his throat and hesitantly intertwining your hands. When you don’t pull away, he continues. “Just give them a chance. I know the rumors are weird, but they couldn’t be farther from the truth. I promise you you’ll like them once you get to know them,” he pleads, giving you his best puppy eyes. “Please?”
You sigh, nodding concededly and reluctantly letting him pull you along. “Okay. Can we at least do the assignment somewhere private? I don’t really think your friends—”
“Family.”
The correction throws you off guard, and you stare at him. Your voice betrays you, eyes soft. “Right, your family. I don’t… I don’t think they like me very much.”
He tsks. “You don’t know what you’re talking about. But,” he turns to you and boops your nose playfully. “If it really makes you feel better, we can do the project in my room.”
His room? Why his room? Why not outside, or in the kitchen, or anywhere else but his room?
You squint your eyes at him suspiciously. “What are you planning, Jungkook?”
He grins mischievously, batting his eyelashes in an effort to make himself look more innocent than you know he is. “I have no idea what you’re talking about.”
You scoff. “Pervert.”
Jungkook giggles in response, wrapping his arms around your shoulders and leaning into you while not so subtly sniffing your hair.
…Brat.
Jungkook drags you upstairs to his room before any of his housemates can snatch you away from him, not bothering to listen to their rowdy complaints. He knows that they’ll overwhelm you the second they get their claws on you, and he’d preferably not scare you away just when you’re getting more comfortable around him.
He practically throws you onto his bed, followed directly by his overexcited body knocking the breath out of you. Jungkook huffs weirdly before pressing his forehead against your shoulder, hands laying curled up into your sides. Groaning, your hands shoot out to his shoulders, trying to push him off. “Can’t— can’t breathe—“
“Sorry,” he sheepishly grins, pushing himself up by his hands to look down at you with his hair flopping over his head. You catch your breath, feeling the immense relief at not having his full weight on top of you, too preoccupied to notice the compromising position you’re in—him hovering over you with his knees slotted on either side of your waist. Jungkook looks concerned when he asks, “Can you breathe yet?”
“Yeah… yeah, I can breathe. Can you uh,” your cheeks burn and you avoid meeting his eyes, your hands sliding from his shoulders. “Can you get off, please?”
“Oh, I— sorry, I’m sorry.” He gets off of you faster than you expected him to, sitting cross legged on the opposite side of the bed to give you some space. You copy him, staring at one another awkwardly. It’s your first time being in his house, let alone his room, and your heart stutters when you realize he closed the door behind you on your way in. Just great. You look at him, biting the inside of your lip. Jungkook has proven to be a very sweet boy, but he is still a boy—and you are a girl. Alone. In his bedroom.
You don’t want him getting the wrong idea.
“Listen, Kook…” He perks up, listening to you attentively. Taking an encouraging breath, you continue. “I hope you didn’t choose your room for ulterior motives, because I came here for school. I’m not going to have sex with you—“
Jungkook’s whole face turns red, frantically shaking his hands in front of you. “No no no! No, I’d never—I don’t, I don’t see you that way, I promise!” He rambles, scooting away from you in an effort to convince you that that’s not why he chose this location. Grinning stupidly, you reach over and pat his knee.
“Okay, okay, I believe you. Relax.” He pouts, crossing his arms over his chest and sulking. He just wanted to make you feel more comfortable… he didn’t think you’d take it the wrong way. Rolling your eyes at the cute pout on his lips, you ruffle his hair playfully. “Let’s get started, hm?”
You turn your back to him so that you can reach into your bag and grab your things, rifling through the books inside to look for your laptop. What you don’t notice is the weight of Jungkook’s eyes on your back—watching you and admiring the annoyed pout on your lips with a soft smile.
“Found it! So,” you cross your legs and situate the keyboard in your lap. “What do you wanna start with first? I was thinking we could start with, uhm…” Your voice dies in the back of your throat when you catch sight of Jungkook’s dazed, strangely affectionate half-smile. You clear your throat, cheeks heating up because why the fuck is he looking at you like you’ve hung the stars?
“Uhm… Jungkook?”
“Right, sorry,” he shakes his head as if to bring himself back to reality. “Why don’t we start with research first?” He’s hesitant, and you feel bad. He must think you’re going to say no.
“Sounds good. My screen is pretty small, though.” You bite your lip, thinking about how you could share the screen in a way that he wouldn’t hurt his neck.
“Uhm. I—I have… can you scoot a bit closer to the headboard?”
You look at him questioningly but give in to his hopeful puppy eyes. Sighing, you scoot back until he places a gentle hand on your knee to halt your movements. You try and look at his face but he looks down so that it’s hidden by his hair. “Jungkook?” You whisper, hesitant to increase your volume.
Jungkook either doesn’t hear you or he ignores you, clambering toward you distractedly and shifting in behind you. You suck in a breath, the hair on your arms raising. He slots his legs on either side of you, pulling you to his chest by your waist and hesitantly resting his chin on your shoulder. The closeness freezes you to the spot, and you swear you can feel him eyeing the side of your face for a reaction.
You exhale through your teeth and will yourself to relax in his arms despite your racing heart. Unbeknownst to you, Jungkook smiles, locking his hands around your waist and inhaling your scent as subtly as possible. You ignore him and clear your throat. “Shall we start with origin?” You whisper, unable to raise your voice due to the suffocating closeness, cheeks red and heart beating ten times too quickly.
Jungkook hums next to your ear. If he notices your racing heartbeat, he doesn’t comment on it.
Y/N yawns tiredly, apologizing in a half-asleep voice.
“Just take a break,” Jungkook pleads, trying to move her arms out of the way and biting back a growl of frustration when she swats his hands away from the screen.
“I’m fine.”
“You can barely keep your eyes open!” He reasons, pulling away to look at the back of her head. Stupid, stubborn girl. “Come on, Y/N. We’ve been working on this for hours. Let’s just take a quick break. Please?”
“We’re so close to finishing…” She sounds dejected, another yawn leaving her lips. Jungkook frowns at her, trying to figure out how to get her to put away her stupid computer and just take a nap, for gods sake. Knowing that this is the only course of action that’ll direct her attention to something other than this stupid class assignment, he determinedly leans forward.
You yelp in surprise, turning to Jungkook with wide eyes. Did he just—
“Did you just fucking bite me?” Your voice is filled with newfound life and energy, jaw hanging as you look down at your shoulder. Looking at him, you find no remorse in those chocolate brown eyes… only a smug, satisfied expression.
“Yes.” He laughs at the horror on your face, shaking his head as if he knows something you don’t. “It’s an affectionate thing, I promise.”
“How is you biting me an ‘affectionate thing’?” You hiss, watching as he shakes his head, hair flopping around his face cutely.
“It just is,” he shrugs. You squint suspiciously, setting the laptop down next to you while silently planning his demise.
Jungkook eyes you warily and yells when you punch his arm, rubbing the spot furiously. “What was that for!”
“Would you rather I bite you back?” You snap threateningly, sitting on your knees to look down at him. Jungkook’s eyes widen at the threat, his cheeks and the top of his ears going beet red. You grin to yourself evilly, crawling towards him. Your eyes squint in a silent threat, prowling like a bloodthirsty animal. “Just wait until I sink my teeth into you… c’mere!”
Jungkook yelps, jumping up from the bed and running away from you while incoherently yelling that no, only he’s allowed to bite you.
“Why?”
“I— I can’t tell you!”
“Guess I’m gonna bite you, then—“
“—Y/N NO!”
675 notes · View notes
rec-review8890 · 2 years
Text
JK | Wolf x Wolf! RECs
All Recs are Alpha!Jungkook x Omega!Reader.
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(💦) ~ Smut , (🐑) ~ Fluff , (👊) ~ Angst , 
(📝) ~ Series , (🗒) ~ One-Shot/Dribble , 
(💜) ~ Personal Favorite 
Request Guidelines | Fic Rec ML
NONE of these works are mine. Give all your love to the authors and their works. The links will either bring you to the Tumblr page or a Ao3 page of the work. 
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Title: Mate 💦🐑💜📝
Author: @7deadlysinsfics
Summary: 9 parts. Alpha!jk x Omega!reader.
↳ "Jungkook knew in his soul from the moment your eyes met his in the forest that you were his mate, that he was meant to protect you at any cost. You’d been through hell while escaping a place that had treated you horribly since your childhood, and it was strange how calm you felt in his presence when you found yourself in an unfamiliar place with a stranger. Something inside of you told you to trust him."
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Title: Claws of Carnality 💦🐑👊📝
Author: @jjungkooksthighs
Summary: Ongoing. Alpha!jk x Omega!reader.
↳ "For years, you’d had to watch every omega you knew present and subsequently pair with their destined mates. Lonely without your own, you yearningly wish that your purebred omegean genes weren’t the source of your late bloom. Then, during one particular eclipse, you dream. It is one unlike anything you’ve ever had before and at its root is him, who is sin incarnate. After begging for him to find you, will he claim you as his own?"
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Title: Rabid: The Beginning 💦🐑👊📝
Author: @bonny-kookoo
Summary: Ongoing. Alpha!jk x Omega!reader. Prologue Series to authors one-shot Rabid
↳ "Absence makes the heart grow fonder. But for Jungkook, who spots his mate at an annual werewolf festival, this might be not all that accurate; because your absence makes his heart feel nothing- it only makes him hurt."
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Title: Suddenly 💦🗒
Author: @kookiecrumb
Summary: Alpha!jk x Omega!reader.
↳ The Request: "Omega!reader and Alpha!jungkook and they are both in heat. It happens while he is out and she is at home? Breeding Kink?"
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Title: Of Rain & Lilacs 🐑👊📝
Author: @blancetude
Summary: Ongoing. Alpha!jk x Omega!Chubby!reader.
↳ "When Jeon Jungkook first met the strange Omega everyone had been whispering of she looked every bit like a delicate butterfly, not knowing he would eventually pluck her wings."
429 notes · View notes
ahundredtimesover · 1 year
Note
Hiiii how is the love after!couple doing? 🥺💜
Are the girls healthy and happy? 🥺🥺 Guk-ah how is fatherhood going? 💜💜
It's been a while but here we are! I did a reread of TLA and i.hurt.so.much that I just had to write this bc I needed my own closure for all the pain 🥺 so here's a sneak peak into fatherhood and something more. (warning: animal hunting [sorry, rabbits!], sexual content)
Title: The Love After Drabble (06): Do you think it'll ever go away? The guilt of what I've done? || You're reminded of your past
WC: 7,579
From: The Love After (werewolf!JK x human!reader)
##
“Daddy, I want to be a pink wolf!”
“I want to be yellow!”
“But what if you don’t want to be yellow anymore?”
“What if you don’t want to be pink?”
You’ve opened the door by the time your daughters yell out in unison, “daddy, can we change our colors when we get older?”
You gaze at a wide-eyed Jungkook as he sits on the living room floor with Eunjoo and Hayoon on his lap, his mouth open then closing, perhaps trying to figure out how to tell his kids that, no, they can’t be either of those colors; neither can they change them.
He looks back at the 2 pairs of curious eyes and smiles. “Why don’t we ask Amma later, okay?”
“Okay!” They both squeal, turning to face you with a greeting and then focusing on their works again.
Jungkook stands up and helps you with the produce-filled bags and places them on the dining table. 
“We were just coloring and then they decided they wanted to be pink and yellow wolves,” he pouts at you. “I didn’t have the heart to tell them they can’t.”
“Yeah, so you’re gonna let Amma be the one to tell them?” You chuckle. “Back in my day, it was the ‘where did we come from’ question that my parents didn’t wanna answer. Amusing to think that now it’s this.”
“It’s just them, though,” Jungkook sighs. “I don’t think any of the other pups in this town want to have bright-colored fur or something.”
“They’re 3 years old, Kook,” you cup his cheek. “They’re being creative and imaginative and that’s normal when they have parents who read them stories every night. They’ll eventually learn the truth and they would’ve outgrown wanting to become pink or yellow or rainbow-colored wolves by then. So you don’t have to worry about disappointing them, okay?”
You know that’s what he’s more worried about - breaking your daughters’ hearts. It’s the one thing he can’t bear to do, and so many times you’ve had to talk about him learning to say no to them, otherwise they’ll grow up thinking that they could get anything they want, and that’s not the kind of world they live in. 
“Fine,” he gives in. “But I’ll really have them ask Amma so I don’t have to answer and see their disappointed faces.”
“Oh, Kook,” you hug him, wanting to comfort your mate who’s made it his goal to always make your daughters laugh and smile. “You’re doing great, okay? We are. I mean, look at them. At that age, Baram was constantly bullying me.”
You and Jungkook laugh as you both soften at the sight of your daughters who exchanged coloring books so they can decorate and draw on what their sister just did. They like sharing things with each other, and that includes their own creations. They like complimenting and hugging each other, too.
“Anyway, was your market run good?” He asks, walking to the kitchen to get the late breakfast dishes that he prepared for all 4 of you. 
“Yes,” you grin. “They finally have persimmons and oranges. I got more fruits and vegetables, too. All for half the price.”
“Perks of being the Beta’s mate,” he winks. 
“Obviously, although I think we would’ve gotten them for free if you were the one who went to buy,” you laugh. 
That wouldn’t be far from the truth. The whole town loves Jungkook, especially those who work at the market because he’s the one who makes sure that their harvests are safe from wild animals. They claim it’s just right that he doesn’t pay much for it; they earn due to his protection, after all. 
“That’s true, but those 2 didn’t want to let me go,” he smiles, thinking back to earlier in the morning. He checked on them in their new bedrooms and they woke up, immediately hugging him.
“They’ve missed you,” you say. “We were at my parents’ for an entire week because you decided to be all ‘father of the century’ by building the second floor so they could have a bigger room. You were gone most of the days and they just want to be with you.”
Jungkook shyly smiles and you melt when he does. He kept his promise of building a second story to accommodate your children. He built 3 bedrooms and 2 bathrooms upstairs and you were blown away when he revealed it to you and your daughters the other day. They squealed in excitement because they could finally have a big space for all their toys. 
You don’t know how Jungkook managed to do it in such a short time, but perhaps that has a lot to do with all the help from the townspeople and members of the pack. He rarely ever asks  for help, Taehyung told you, so when he inquired about plumbing and bathroom tiles, people were quick to offer. 
The second floor is stunning and you’re still in the process of designing it. But it took so much of Jungkook’s time, and so when your daughters woke up to their daddy’s voice, you’re sure they were ecstatic to spend the morning with him, too.
“They seem to like their room a lot,” Jungkook hums. “We were playing there earlier and they asked me to make a dresser and a chest for their things. I’ve got designs in my head already and I can’t wait to make them.”
“How are our daughters just 3 yet they already know what they want and how to get it?” You chuckle. Sure, they grow almost twice as fast as normal humans do, but still, a lot of the things they do surprises you.
“They get it from you,” he laughs now. “And they probably know that I’d do anything for them. I tell them every night.”
“I really hope we’re not raising spoiled kids, Kook,” you furrow your brows. 
“We aren’t. You’ll make sure of that.”
“Hey!” You nudge his knee. “I’m not the only one who’s gonna keep them in place.”
“Fine, fine. We both will,” he smiles. 
Parenting werewolves is not easy, and for a time, Jungkook didn’t think he’d ever be having this conversation with his mate. Neither did he think he’d ever be able to make this cabin feel like a home for a family, and now, there’s 2 storeys of it filled with nothing but warmth and love that all 4 of you share. He can’t wait to share it with more.
Eunjoo and Hayoon go to you once you call them, and they haven’t really outgrown sitting on both your laps during meals so they could hug you while they eat. 
It’s one of your favorite things as a parent, you think, as Hayoon wraps her arms around your neck after a mouthful of grilled fish and rice. She goes back to sitting on your lap to feed herself, and then lays her head on your chest. Eunjoo does something similar with Jungkook, and you both share a look as if to say that you both did this. 
All those times of having them sleep in between you and Jungkook and reading them stories and humming them lullabies; all those afternoons of laying on the grass while you all make out the shapes of the clouds; all those evenings of sitting on the couch at the porch, hugging each other under the light blanket - perhaps both your daughters keep all these moments as memories, too, and their affection is all the love they’re returning because of your love that they feel everyday. 
“Daddy, will you take us to Amma? I want to ask about our fur,” Eunjoo looks at him sweetly.
You stifle a laugh as Jungkook sighs. 
“Yes, angel. I’ll take you and your sister to her,” he says, hugging her back after she squeals. “And you can play with your cousins and the other kids there, too.”
It’s a Saturday, after all, and a lot of families go to the pack house and Amma’s residence to gather over food and conversations while the pups listen to stories and play around the garden by the pond. It’s like a daycare center there, and you’re glad there’s a place for your children to grow and learn about themselves where they’re safe and comfortable.
“I have a meeting with my brothers,” he turns to you. “Are you sure you don’t need my help at your parents’?”
“No need,” you assure him. “Mother just needs someone to carry around furniture and boxes since she wants a repaint. I can handle it.”
Jungkook nods and you both return to your meals, chuckling when the kids slurp their bowls dry and then finish a large piece of orange each. You decide to clean up in the kitchen while he gives them both a bath, and you all spend time choosing the girls’ outfits for today’s afternoon at the pack house. 
“Bye, mommy!” They both yell, kissing you sweetly before jumping into their father’s arms. “We’ll see you later!”
You kiss Jungkook and watch them get in the car, gushing at how attached your children are to both of you. 
You get back in the cabin and look around, checking every corner to see if there’s something you need to clean or put in order. After rearranging some things, you head out to the backyard and see the remaining slabs of wood that Jungkook didn’t use for the second floor. Those might be for your daughters’ chest and dresser, you think. Some of his tools are still outside, including the one ax that he accidently broke. 
You’re reminded again of all the work Jungkook did to continuously make this place a home for your family, and you don’t think you can ever thank him enough. You suppose that a good dinner of rabbit stew and some chicken spinach pies would be a good start. 
**
“Just a little more to the left,” your mother instructs you, and you do as she says before she releases another breath. “Good, you did it. You’re fine.”
“You do know I have superhuman strength now, right?” You laugh at her, knowing that she tends to still worry whenever you lift heavy things. “I can do all this and not break a sweat.”
“I know, my dear. I still need a lot of getting used to,” she smiles. “Both my daughters are incredibly strong beings and well, good on us for not needing to hire more people to fix the house.”
“Don’t worry, I’ll try to learn to paint for you,” you tease. “Jungkook could be your foreman or something.”
“Ah, I don’t want to add to his responsibilities anymore,” she hums. “He’s doing so much fixing your own place and being an amazing father to your 2 girls. He needs to spend the remaining time he has of not working and patrolling with you.”
“I know, but it’s not a big deal,” you assure her. “We spend time together as much as we can. And it’s been a tough few months for him, too; he’s just been needing care and reassurance more than anything. Being mates allows us to just know what the other needs, you know?”
“That’s good,” your mother smiles, cupping your cheek as she walks towards you. “And you’re good at that - giving care and reassurance.”
“Am I already?” You wonder out loud. 
You hate to think of a time when it wasn’t the case, and the thought of those months of ignoring Jungkook, shutting him out, and putting him in danger causes an ache in your heart. You’ve tried to make up for all those times but you don’t know if anything you do will also ever be enough. 
“Of course, my dear,” she nudges you, acting upset that you’d think otherwise. “He wouldn’t be looking as happy as he does whenever he talks about you if you weren’t. It makes my mornings.”
“And when does this happen?” You arch an eyebrow.
“During the days when he comes over some with meat after a hunt. About twice a week,” she informs you. “He has that glimmer in his eyes, you know? It makes me so thankful that you were fated to him. I just knew he’d love you so well, the kind that would let someone as hurt as you open up completely to him and love him just as much.”
The words are meant to be comforting, and you know your mother means well - she laid witness to you shutting out the entire world after all, and she’d been one of those to ask you to give Jungkook a chance. You just can’t help sometimes but think of how hurt he must’ve been feeling so unwelcomed, unwanted.
You’ll never know what that’s like; that’s the last thing Jungkook would ever make you feel. Even when he’s hurt and dealing with his own pains, he seeks for you. 
Like that time a townsman was attacked by a wild boar, leaving him in critical condition, and Jungkook blamed himself for failing to protect him. Or just recently when Mr. Roi, the owner of the workshop he works at, passed away due to an aneurysm and Jungkook was upset that he hadn't sensed it sooner. 
He was hard on himself both times but he let you hold him. He was upset and grieving but he let you comfort him. He let you share all that pain with him, and not once did you feel like he wanted to go through all that on his own. 
“You okay, sweetie?” Your mother’s voice cuts through your thoughts. 
“Yeah, just… thinking. You’re right,” you manage a smile. “Jungkook loves with all of him. The girls and I are so lucky.”
“Well, they’re lucky they have you, too,” she comforts, kissing your forehead. “So I was wondering… what do you think about redesigning your bedroom so it could accommodate your family? Perhaps getting rid of your desk and bookshelf to fit 2 double beds?”
“What for?”
“Well, your father and I were thinking that it would be nice to have you and your sister and your families here some weekends,” your mother says. “Your kids are growing so, so fast and we don’t want to blink and miss all that. And well, it gets lonely here sometimes. And with your grandfather gone…” she trails, her voice dropping low at the thought of how much she misses him. “It’s just… we want to spend time with all of you, all at once. Is that alright?”
“That sounds good,” you say. “The girls will outgrow the double bed but uh, maybe sometime in the future, we could build an extra room just off the living room? Or we could convert grandfather’s—”
“No,” she interjects. “I mean, not yet. I’m… I’m not yet ready to let him go like that.”
You mirror the sadness in her eyes, and though it broke you when your grandfather passed, you can’t imagine how it must’ve been for your mother who’s spent all her life with him. You understand wanting to keep people who have passed in spaces, in things. It lets us feel like they’re still here. 
“Okay,” you say. “We can redesign the rooms. I’ll ask Jungkook to help out one weekend.”
Your mother returns your smile and you both get back to work, emptying the living room so the painters could prepare it for tomorrow. 
It’s mid afternoon by the time you finish, and you say your goodbye to head home and start preparing for dinner. You work on your dough and filling for the pies, deciding that you’ll go for a hunt while they’re setting. 
You’ve never joined Jungkook on a hunt. Ever since your transformation, you’d only ever shifted to run into the mountains or when you feel like your family is in danger. Jungkook had always insisted it was his job to do that, and he knows this area more than anyone; hunting is his thing and there was never a need for you to do it. 
Not unless you want to surprise him, of course. 
Rabbit stew has become his favorite ever since you prepared it for him one night years ago, when you redid the Ceremony dinner at the cabin. That was the night you admitted what you felt for him, and you have a feeling that Jungkook ties that meaning to the dish. So every time you feel like showing him how you feel - however that is - you make him stew. 
There were no rabbits from yesterday’s hunt so you decide to look for them yourself. You shift into your wolf form and head out, trying to remember Jungkook’s hunting strategies that he’s shared with you. You look for fresh prints, sniff their scent, and let the animal in you dictate where to go. 
It doesn’t take long for you to sense movement from the meadows a few kilometers away. As you follow the sound, you know it’s what you’re looking for. There are 2 of them and their prints are heavy; they’re big, enough for your family of 4.
You run faster, not wanting them to wander farther. You sneak up on the pair and instantly catch one, alerting the other. You follow, scanning the field before you and knowing that you could easily outrun it, back it into a corner and then call this hunt a success.
The rabbit is fueled by adrenaline, running faster than you expected and heading towards a body of water that you know it hates. But you take this opportunity by outrunning it, growling as you go and then pouncing on it once it nears a boulder. 
You’ve got it, the wolf in you rejoices. You know once you shift back into human form, you won’t remember much of this; it’s your first time, anyway. It’s why Jungkook doesn’t let you hunt; once you do it regularly, it becomes a part of you, and killing prey is not something he wants you to get used to, much as it’s for survival. He’s there to do it, it’s in his nature unlike you, a human by birth. 
One thing you learned after your transformation is that you don’t retain much of your memory as a wolf when you’re in your human form. But when you’re in your wolf form, your memory as a human remains, balancing you. Amma has said once that it's what reminds you of who you are by nature, that having your human memories is one way to ensure that you don’t remain as a wolf. 
It’s why once your forelegs hit the water, you remember. 
The breeze that evening. The cold water. The sound of the river’s current. 
You remember the feel of the boulder against your soaked body. How hard it was. How it diluted the blood that was seeping out of your head.
The sun had set then, like now. There were wildflowers on the riverbed, like now. 
You’re growling, but back then, it wasn’t yourself that you heard - it was another wild animal, big and black and angry.
It was here, years ago, when that bear attacked you, when you were close to giving up, and when Jungkook saved you. He took you on his back and ran as fast as possible to take you to safety. He was frantic in the pack house as he demanded the doctors to save you. It was the same night when you broke his heart for the millionth time by saying that the cabin wasn’t your home, that he wasn’t your home. 
You haven’t been here since that night. You hate that it took away from the good memories you had here with Yoongi before, and being back here brings you back to that time when you almost gave up on yourself. When you almost gave up on Jungkook.
The human fear and sadness from that time alerts you that you have to leave, that you have to shift back. So you run as fast as you can and head back home, prey in hand, and tears in your eyes. 
**
Standing in your shower as you wash away the blood from your body, you feel betrayed. You aren’t supposed to remember much of what you saw but you remember it. You remember everything.
Perhaps it’s because those were your human memories and that’s why it’s as clear as day; being in that place as a wolf doesn’t mean you’ll forget what you experienced. 
Because you’re here now, unable to move, feeling an unnameable type of pain that’s familiar, and it hurts so bad. If it wasn’t for your timer going off to say that your pot is boiling, you’d be staying here for hours.
It felt so vivid. You didn’t think that being back there would make you recall how it was that night even if you didn’t remember much right after. It’s been years, after all, but as you caress your neck to feel the mark of your bond, you know why you feel empty yet heavy; you know why you feel like your heart is being ripped apart even as it beats rapidly. 
It may be your memory, but it’s Jungkook’s pain you’re feeling. 
The sight of you helpless. The thought of you giving up, of losing you for good. 
The thought of him withering away at the loss of you. 
The thought of never having this home, this family, this love. 
You exit the bathroom and see your bed, and you remember the nights you spent holding his hand because he’d been weak, because you’d selfishly taken all his energy, because you’d taken so much of him without giving anything in return. 
You remember the fear you felt of losing him, the guilt of hurting him, and the worry that you might never be able to make it up to him.
You feel Jungkook’s pain. And yours. All at once.
**
You’re surprised you manage to make a decent-tasting rabbit stew and not burn the pies given how absent-minded you’ve been since you got back from your hunt. You suppose it’s due to muscle memory; you’ve made these dishes so many times before. Just like as it’s reflex for you to turn to the door once to hear it unlock, even if you’re unable to fully process what’s happening. 
“Mommy!” Eunjoo and Hayoon greet in unison as they run to you for a hug. 
“Welcome back,” you coo, taking them into your arms and giving them a tight hug. If there’s anything to remind you that everything from earlier is a memory, it’s them - the manifestation of the love you share with your mate. “How was your afternoon?”
They yell over the other about things they did, but you pick up that they listened to some stories, planted flowers, and fed the fish in the pond. 
“I’m glad you both had a great time there,” you kiss their noses. “Did you give daddy a hard time?”
They look at each other before smiling and squealing, in unison, no. You cock an eyebrow at them before looking to your husband for the truth.
“They wanted to follow the ducks into the lake,” he playfully shakes his head. “They said they want to learn to float in the water or something.”
“Oh, my babies. You’ll learn to do more than that,” you smile, kissing them again before letting them jump on the couch and turning the TV on.
“Hey,” Jungkook kisses your lips now. He turns his head towards the pot and his eyes get bigger. “Rabbit stew? How… how did you get the meat?”
“I hunted,” you smile, letting it fade right after. 
“You, what? Hey, that’s my job,” he pouts.
“I know, but I wanted to surprise you with your favorite dish,” you reply. “It was a quick hunt. And it won’t happen again.”
He looks at you like he’s waiting for you to say more, but he just kisses your forehead and whispers his thanks when you don’t.
“Can you set up the table, please? I should be done soon.”
Jungkook does as you ask, and it’s not long after when the 4 of you are seated on the dining table, with Eunjoo and Hayoon taking turns narrating - with more details - what happened today. You’re amused, as you always are. They’re only 3 but they can do so much; they’re still babies in your eyes and perhaps they’ll always be. 
You nod and ask questions, but you think that Jungkook can sense something is wrong, as he takes your hand under the table and catches your eye when you look his way. You fake a smile to assure him, even if you know he can see right through you. 
“Mommy, I’m tired,” Eunjoo says after squealing about how cute ducks are. She lays her head on the table and Hayoon does the same, facing her. 
“I’m sure you both are,” Jungkook says, taking both girls in his arms. “Why don’t mommy and I get you 2 ready for bed, huh?”
“Okay!” They both speak at the same time.
“Leave these here first,” he tells you. “Let’s tuck them in, together.”
You nod and follow, with Jungkook leading the way to their bathroom. 
Your daughters imitate ducks as you bathe them in their tub, and you watch in awe as Jungkook plays along with them. He knows just what to do to get their attention, and you adore the way he takes care of them - making sure the water’s not too hot or cold, massaging their heads as he shampoos their hair, then wiping them dry once they decide another time that they’re both tired. 
Snug in their towels, he lays them on their beds. “Tell mommy how much you love her, okay?” He whispers in both their ears, although it’s something you hear. He turns to you and says he’ll start cleaning up downstairs and you nod in response.
It’s more quiet with you and your daughters now. You want to savor this time with them as you gaze at their eyes that are just like their father’s. Energetic as they are, they have his warm heart and his affection, too, as they hug you tightly and tell you that they love you very much, and it’s not just because their daddy told them so.
You wish them goodnight and head down the stairs, no longer surprised when you see that in a short amount of time, Jungkook’s managed to clean everything up. 
“I’m outside,” he calls out once he hears you’re back.
You walk out onto the porch, letting the cool wind embrace you. He’s sitting on the couch, looking out into the forest. He turns to you with a comforting smile. 
“Hey,” he says.
There’s so much warmth in his eyes. You often wonder how the fiercest wolf of the pack can have so much tenderness in his body. It’s in the way he speaks to you, looks at you, holds you. You don’t want to imagine a world where you don’t experience this; you hate to think that there was a moment where it could’ve been taken away from you, where all this could’ve been taken away from him.
You give in, knowing that at the end of the day, he’s all you need.
You sit yourself on his lap and wrap your arms around his neck, your face finding refuge at the crook of it. You breathe against his skin but the tears sting your eyes. You let them fall anyway.
His large hands envelope you - one holds your hip against him, the other caresses your back. 
“Do you want to talk about it?” He asks after a while.
“I was chasing the rabbits and I ended up at the river,” you finally say. “The one… the one where I fell, where there was, uh. Where you saved me.”
You turn to face him, tear-stained cheeks hurting him as he looks at you.
“And then I remembered,” you continue. “I remembered almost giving up. I remembered almost letting go.”
The words pierce through. Jungkook remembers it, too. He remembers your faint heartbeat and the way you’d slowly loosened your grip on that boulder. He remembers feeling like his world was ending, seeing you helpless and scared.
“I haven’t gone there since that day. And being there again just… I…”
You break into a sob before you can say more. It’s overwhelming to feel this much sadness, this much regret. It’s as if seeing where it all happened after you’d buried that memory made your life in the past few years flash before your eyes, as if all that’s good was being stripped away from you. 
And it almost felt like your heart was being torn into pieces. The way it tore Jungkook’s. Perhaps that’s what you felt - his heart at that moment, breaking. 
He wishes he was there with you so you didn’t have to go deep into the memory, that he could protect you from all that hurts you. He can, but not from this. 
“I wasn’t good to you, Jungkook,” you say this time, eyes glazed from all the tears. “I’m so sorry.”
“Hey,” he exclaims. “We’re past that. There’s nothing to apologize for anymore.”
“It’s so heavy,” you sigh, breathless, as you clutch your chest. “It’s hard to breathe. I keep thinking of everything I put you through, of every time I pushed you away and kept you out, all the times that I made you feel unwanted, that I made you feel like I would never love you. I keep thinking that I… hurt you. So much. And I didn't… I didn’t stop.”
“Look at me,” he urges you, his own eyes glassy now at the sight of you carrying all this burden. “Feel this.”
Jungkook takes your hand to his chest. 
“My heart is beating, the way yours is. They’re connected. We’re alive and we’re safe and we’re home. We made it that way because we chose to try, because we chose to move past all that happened because we wanted this. We wanted to love each other. And I don’t doubt that love even for a second,” he says, desperate for you to listen to his words. “Whatever parts of me you hurt, you’ve healed them. Everyday that I come home to you and our children, I heal. You heal me. That’s all that matters.”
Jungkook always said he’s not good with words. But you disagree. Every time he speaks like this, he heals you just as much.
“I don’t ever want to live a life that isn’t with you,” you manage to say. “I don’t ever want to live a life where I’m not loved by you.”
“And you won’t ever know a life like that,” he assures you. “I’d save you in a heartbeat, ___. I’d save you a thousand times a day if I have to.”
**
It feels like hours that Jungkook holds you - on his lap while your head rests on his chest. You just want to feel his warmth, feel his heart, the one that’s connected in so many ways to yours.
“Let’s have a bath, okay?” He says.
You wrap your arms around his neck again. “Okay.”
This attachment tells Jungkook you don’t want to let go, so he stands up and carries you in his arms, walking both of you towards the bathroom. You remove yourself from him once he places you on the floor, and he tells you to wait for him as he fills up the tub.
He returns to you right after and kisses your forehead before undressing you, slowly removing your shirt and then your jeans. He helps you get rid of your undergarments, leaving you bare for him. 
Jungkook doesn’t take his eyes off you as he undresses himself, but he keeps them on your face, studying the sadness emanating from it. 
He’s bare in seconds, and he takes your hand and guides you towards the tub - the one he built, wooden and deep and spacious for both of you. 
“Come,” he whispers. 
You follow, sitting yourself between his legs and laying against his chest. 
You and Jungkook do this often. Though neither of you ever gets tired, your shared warm bath helps your bodies relax. It lets you feel close to each other, too, and it’s times like this when you feel what he’s said - that your hearts and your bodies are connected. 
He kisses you tenderly, starting from your temple to your cheeks, inching downward until he reaches your neck and then the mark that bears your oneness. 
There’s a certain kind of emotion that stirs within you whenever he does that, and you sigh in relief, because that’s what the act usually does - it assures you, comforts you, unburdens you to some extent and lets you breathe. 
You sigh, closing your eyes. You’re starting to feel lighter with just this. 
“You held onto me, you know?” He speaks after a while. “During those times, you made me feel like you still needed me in your own ways. Even if it was just my warmth, you’d move closer, and anytime I could see that you liked what I could give, it made it all worth it. And then you called for me that night. I… I knew then that you needed me and I wasn’t ever gonna let you go.”
You turn to him with questioning eyes. 
“That night? After the attack?” You ask. 
Things were hazy for you but you know nothing about calling for him. You turned him away after all, and said he wasn’t home.
“You did,” Jungkook hums, recalling the car ride home and taking you to your room. “We were back at your parents’ house and I was… well, I was a mess. It was hard seeing you in pain and I just cried. I kept crying, actually.” He chuckles, trying to make light of it. “You were asleep but you were tossing and turning. A bad dream, I think. So I just held your hand and then you called my name. It was a whisper but I heard it. Whatever the reason, I just felt like somewhere deep down, you needed me.”
“Maybe I did,” you nod, smiling despite the tears in your eyes. “‘Maybe I didn’t know it then but my heart did. My heart knew it needed you.”
“It’s a good way of looking at it, right?” He smiles back.
“It is. But it doesn’t mean I’m any less sorry,” you pout now. 
“I know, and I wish I can change your mind.”
Jungkook has a forgiving heart. You’ve always known it. He told you once that he lacks the strength that you have but you know it takes courage to forgive. And he forgives you every time. He does it without fail. 
You think about this as you both finish your bath. You gaze at him and watch his every forgiving and loving movement as he wipes you dry and leads you back to the bedroom. Wanting to feel him bare against you, you trace his face as you hover over him, having slid in between his legs again so you can look at him fully. 
He’s a lot softer now. You remember you used to see tenderness only in his eyes. His face was always so hard, so strained. You’d find out later on just how much he was holding back on a lot of things. But  now, he melts into your touch and it says of how much that’s changed. 
You wonder if you’ll ever stop thinking about it - how much you hurt him, how close you were to not having him. Everything he is now may be because of you, but a lot of who he was back then was because of you, too.
You lay on top of him, your chest flushed against his. You listen to his heartbeat while his fingers trace patterns on your back. It’s soothing more than anything, and it’s what prompts you to ask.
“Do you think it’ll ever go away?” You wonder out loud. “The guilt of what I’ve done?”
You push yourself up to look at him, curious if he’d fallen asleep because of his silence. 
“I wish it would,” he finally says. “I can’t… I can’t lose you to your thoughts.”
Not again, he doesn’t say. 
You feel things. Too much sometimes. Guilt is not an exception. And he worries that if you keep that with you, it might be what would pull you both apart.
But you know what he means without him saying it. You lived in your mind and in your pain all those months, and he lost you to them before he could even have you. And this… this might not be any different.
What is guilt but chains, you think. Guilt isn’t love. It doesn’t make the other person feel loved. Maybe it’s what would drive them away. 
“We should be enough, don’t you think? Me, this home, our girls?” Jungkook asks, almost desperately. “Love got you this, not guilt.”
“I’m scared that the more I think of how much you love me, I’ll think of how you’d done that so selflessly. And that’s why the guilt creeps in, like it did today,” you try to explain. “Because you had to lose so much of yourself for me to see how much I needed you. And you still had so much to give.”
“I’ll always have a lot to give. Because I take from you,” he says, caressing your mark. “That’s what’s so beautiful about this - we give to each other and we take from each other. And we’ll never run out. And so that guilt? I’ll take it from you, I’ll share it with you. Maybe that’s how it goes away.”
“I don’t want to feel it anymore. Because I don’t want you to feel it,” you pout. 
Maybe that’s how it goes away, you think. 
“Then we won’t feel it,” he chuckles softly. “But know that whatever it is that’s inside you, it’s mine, too. You’re my mate, ___. I’m here because of you.”
You nod vigorously as tears slide down your cheeks again. “Okay. We’ll share it all. We’ll share everything.”
There’s clarity in your eyes. There’s acceptance. There’s understanding and remembrance of the promise you made to the Moon and to each other. And as you look back at him, he feels you slowly give all that guilt up so he can take pieces of it from you.
You kiss his lips once, and then another time. The next is long and deep, and the way you pull the tips of his hair and push against him tells him what you need.
He needs it, too, so he helps you mount him, your hands now on his shoulders as your lips glide against his hard cock. His hands on your waist guide you as you move until you give him that look that lets him know where you want him this time. 
Jungkook lets you slide down on him, his tip hitting your edges right away and this is how you want it tonight - you want to feel it all. You want to take control at the beginning and give it all to him. You want to look into his eyes as you move up and down on his shaft while moaning his name. 
He matches your movements, pushing upwards just as hard so he could feel every inch of you, too. He sits up and you come the first time when he swallows your breast, his tongue swirling around your pert nipple. He lets you come down from your high as he wraps his arms around your waist, his head against your chest while it heaves to let him know how good he made you feel. 
There are no other words said. You both know what the act of mating does and with how heavy it’d been, doing this all night is what you both need to once more feel that oneness, to feel that sharing of pain and hurt, to give and take each other’s strength. 
Because behind the pleasure is that trust, that undeniable connection. It’s the love that courses through your veins and that you hear in each other’s beating hearts; it’s the loss of breath and moans of your names, the glassy eyes and trembling lips as you let each other know just how healing this love is because it’s meant to. 
Because that’s what it means when you’re fated with someone - you feel their pain and their joy like it’s yours. You trust that at your most vulnerable, they’ll hold you like you’ll break but they won’t treat you like you’re fragile. And they’ll kiss all the broken parts of you and love you hard until you’re whole.
“Sleep,” he tells you after you come for the fourth time, caressing your cheek and kissing your lips. “It’ll all be better in the morning.”
**
The sun is high, almost blinding. Your book isn’t big enough to block its shine but it still works. The wind is cool and the day is too nice for it to not be spent outside.
And it’s where you are - at the meadow where you’d fallen asleep before the incident by the river. Jungkook thought it would be nice to bring the girls somewhere new where they could ride their new bicycles after having just learned, and you were the one who suggested this place. 
He was unsure - you’d cried about the painful memories of that night and its aftermath just last week - but he gave in after you said that you’re feeling better, and that maybe the guilt can completely go away if you replace the bad memories with good ones. Eunjoo and Hayoon were running around and picking flowers earlier, and their squeals and sounds of wonder have been all worth it. 
Jungkook’s smile is worth it, too. Laid on his lap, you lower your book to get a peek of your mate, and the look of pure joy he has on is indescribable. The sparkle in his eyes whenever he watches your daughters is something you hold dear in your heart; you’re glad it’s the one image you can’t ever get out of your head.
“Careful, you two!” He calls out after Eunjoo falls to the side. 
She quickly stands up and waves at both of you. “I’m okay, daddy! I’m strong!”
“You’re still a child, though,” he answers back.
“But I’m a strong child! See? No booboos!” She counters, earning you and Jungkook a laugh.
“Look at them go,” you say, humming when he combs your hair with his fingers. “They were latching on to me not long ago and now, they’ll bike and run around for as long as they can.”
“Our kind really grows too fast,” he chuckles. “They’ll probably be jumping over rocks and running up mountains in no time.”
“I wish time would stop,” you sigh. “Just so we can savor these moments with them. And just so we won’t have our babies no longer needing us so soon.”
“Well, time won’t stop but you do know that we have a lot of time,” he says. “You know what that means.”
“Uh, I’m not sure I do?” You sit up and face his smirking form.
“We can always have more pups,” he shrugs, the statement so casual as if it’s that easy to just decide on having more children. “The girls are grown. We can handle things. I… I’d like to think we love each other even more now. What do you think?”
The thought of it excites you. Sure, there are so many things to consider. But you’d like to think that with all that’s happened in the past years, and especially last week, there’s so much more for you to give. 
You look at Jungkook and the way his eyes shine and his smile softens when he talks about your daughters. There was a time when all he had was an empty cabin and himself - none of your nightly family cuddles on the porch, none of the snowball fights during winter, none of the laughter and giggles and homemade pies and handmade wooden toys that you all bond over. 
Home has become more than a structure for Jungkook, it’s now more than a dream - it’s people he loves and he’ll continue to love. And you know you want to give that to him. You want to give him that joy of being able to create a bigger home with more children he’ll care for, because you know that there’s so much space for his incredible heart for that.
“Okay,” you smile. “I’d love to have more children with you, Kook.”
He can’t contain his smile, and all he can do is hug you tightly and let you feel through this how much it means to him. You hug him back and kiss his cheek, and he can tell that you want this, too.
“Family hug!” Hayoon squeals once she turns towards your direction, and it’s not long after when both girls are running towards you, squeezing themselves in between the spaces and hugging you and Jungkook.
Their giggles are music to your ears, and the image of more of them doing this with you makes your heart jump. Your home will be bigger, and you can’t wait for that, too.
##
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