Hybrid Min Yoongi x Female Reader; Platonic OT7 x Female Reader; Namseok; Jinkook
Summary:After helping Yoongi get away from his abusive former owner, you’re left to focus on your relationship and how it progresses. That is, until you find six other hybrids who need your help, and their former owner decides he’s going to make your life hell. Genre: hurt/comfort, angst, fluff Word Count: 3,224 Rating:M Warnings (updated per chapter): stalking, wild animal attack, major character injury, blood, implied homophobia, slight internalized homophobia, starvation, hospitalization, discussion of sexual assault, discussion of physical assault, discussion of controlling behavior, heavy petting, marking, slightly toxic relationship, spiraling thoughts
Major thanks to @eatjeanjin for beta-ing this and for listening to me complain almost constantly. You’ve been nothing but helpful and sweet, and I’m so grateful for your opinions and assistance.
“Jin-hyung invited us over for Jungkook’s birthday,” Yoongi said, using his index finger to peck out a response to the text message on his phone. You had heard it ping with a notification earlier, but you had ignored it, your focus on your computer.
It had been quiet all afternoon. After Tae’s trial, Jungkook had excitedly helped the panther pack his things. The two had gone over to Seokjin’s, and you hadn’t heard from them since. It had been almost 48 hours and Jungkook hadn’t so much as texted you. The apartment was deathly quiet without them.
“Oh?”
Yoongi readjusted how he was sitting, scooting to the side of the wingback chair and crossing his legs. “Hobi and Namjoon are going to go there after they get done with work.”
“Oh cool.”
“Did… did you want to go?”
You sighed, turning to him. “Did he explicitly invite me?”
“Does it matter?” You stared at him blankly. Yes, it mattered. It mattered if Seokjin had invited the both of you, or if he had just invited Yoongi, or what his exact phrasing had been. “He said everyone was invited.”
You thought for a moment, tempted. Technically, he hadn’t not invited you. But then you remembered how much of an ass Seokjin had been to you. And purposeful or not, you weren’t interested in that kind of malice in your life.
“I’ll hang out here,” you said, offering him a small smile. You hoped it looked genuine. “You can go if you want.”
Yoongi’s brow furrowed, his head tilting slightly to the side. “You’re going to miss Jungkook’s birthday?”
Technically, you wouldn’t have been missing it. You and Yoongi had planned a dinner for him. You had bought ingredients to make chocolate peanut butter cupcakes. But he had wanted to spend his birthday with Seokjin, and you couldn’t tell him no.
“I would be more than thrilled to have something here for him,” you said dryly, turning back to your work.
“He won’t understand that. I get that you don’t like Jin-hyung, but it’s one night.” Yoongi’s voice was soft. You could tell his patience was starting to wear thin with the whole situation.
“It’s not that I don’t like him,” you argued. “I just don’t like feeling judged every time I’m around him. He’s weirdly passive aggressive. And I don’t like how he’s breaking up the pack.”
Yoongi hummed. “What pack?”
“Ours.” It felt a little silly saying it out loud.
He looked at you, confused. “I didn’t know you wanted us to be a pack.”
Maybe it was the way he said it–you couldn’t quite read his tone or his facial expression. Or maybe it was the little niggling voice in your head that said that packs were a hybrid thing. Regardless, you couldn’t help but rethink every time you had referred to your living situation as a pack. Had you misinterpreted friendship—or worse, mere acquaintanceship—as a closer bond than it was? They weren’t yours. You didn’t own them. Well, Jungkook you did, but that was a technicality at best. Did they feel obligated to stay with you? Were you somehow making it seem like they had to stay? And what about Yoongi? You had told him several times that you didn’t want him to get a job. Were you holding him back?
What if—your mind reeled—what if Seokjin was right not to trust you? Had they all escaped one bad living situation only to enter another? You would like to think that you were better than Seungri, but just because you didn’t hit them or force them into any unwanted situations didn’t mean you hadn’t made them almost entirely dependent on you. It didn’t mean that, in your quest to help them, you hadn’t accidentally imprisoned them once again.
“You go to Jungkook’s party,” you told him gently, attempting a smile. Judging by Yoongi’s reaction, it was more of a grimace. “Apologize to him for me.”
“I can stay if you want me to.” Yoongi’s ears pressed flat against his head. You knew he could sense the downturn in your mood, the spiraling of your thoughts.
“Go. Have fun with your friends. This is a big deal,” you told him honestly. And it was. They had never celebrated birthdays with Seungri. And really, Jungkook even making it to 25 was kind of a miracle. “I’ll be fine on my own for a few hours.”
Yoongi said your name once, softly, his hands reaching out for you. But his copper eyes met yours for a moment and his arms fell back to his sides, his tail and ears drooping. “I love you,” he reminded you gently. When you didn’t respond, he huffed out a sigh, standing from the chair and pattering out of your office.
You laid on the couch in silence, staring at the dark television. You couldn’t bring yourself to turn it on–you had spent the past few hours thinking, and a small headache had developed behind your eyes. You had folded Yoongi’s basketball blanket up and were using it as a pillow. Although you weren’t a hybrid, you didn’t have a hyper-sensitive nose, the blanket still smelled like Yoongi–like citrus, coffee, and musk. It was comforting.
Unfortunately, you still felt like shit.
You were still mentally spiraling, your brain hyper-fixated on your discussion with Yoongi earlier. You weren’t Seungri. You knew that. Yoongi was happy. Namjoon and Hobi liked you. Jungkook and Taehyung trusted you. And you genuinely loved them all. But that didn’t mean you weren’t still somehow treating them terribly. Namjoon and Hobi may have jobs, but they still weren’t independent. You made a mental note to help them set up bank accounts. And, while you couldn’t afford to get them a car, you could teach them how to drive yours. Or, at the very least, show them how to navigate the train and the subway. You sighed.
You would have to ask them what else they wanted you to do. You didn’t want them to leave–you liked having Namjoon and Hobi there. They were great roommates, and you liked talking with them. You genuinely wanted them to be happy and independent.
But then there was the pack problem. Yoongi was right to question you. They weren’t your pack. You didn’t have a pack. They were your friends–your acquaintances at the very least. They were your housemates, sure. You couldn’t help but dread every time you had referred to them as your pack. Oh god, had you ever said it aloud?
Way back when you were researching hybrids–when you only suspected that your cat might be something more–you had read about pack bonds. Modern hybrids seemed to pack bond with any species. So it was entirely possible that a house cat, wolf, viper, quokka, German shepherd puppy, and panther had managed to become a pack. You had read, too, that in cases where multiple hybrids lived with a human, they could form a pack, as well. It wasn’t uncommon for hybrids to welcome a human friend into their folds. But you couldn’t just declare them your pack like that. You weren’t a hybrid.
You snuggled closer into Yoongi’s basketball blanket, inhaling deeply as you considered. You would back off from the hybrids, mentally and physically. Because if you were incorrectly assuming closeness in your thoughts, there was a strong possibility that you were doing it in your actions, too. And the last thing you wanted to do was make them uncomfortable. Maybe if you backed off… maybe Jungkook would want to spend time at your place again rather than Seokjin’s.
When the front door opened, you shut your eyes, not wanting to deal with the hybrids just yet. You could hear Namjoon and Hobi chatting softly as they kicked off their shoes. When they walked into the living room, Hobi cooed, but their footsteps continued back the hall and into their room. You weren’t quite sure what time it was–it was late, but you weren’t sure how late. You had left the light on in the living room, and now it was annoying, but you didn’t want to get up and turn it off and make it obvious that you had purposefully ignored Hobi and Namjoon.
Then it dawned on you. Where was Yoongi?
He was comfortable walking around your neighborhood with you now, and he sometimes walked to the store when you needed something last-minute. But he hadn’t really ever gone for a walk outside of your neighborhood, let alone without you, and certainly not at night.
The door to Namjoon and Hobi’s room opened, and you heard footsteps coming toward the living room. After a second, you felt a blanket fall across your body.
“Sleep well,” Hobi whispered, patting your head gently.
You heard the click of the lamp turning off and then Hobi’s feet padding softly against the wooden floor as he retreated back to his room. The door closed and you reached down, groping around on the floor for your phone. You appreciated Hobi’s kindness, but you were far more concerned about Yoongi at that moment.
10:53. No new messages.
You sighed, your head falling back against your makeshift pillow. Maybe Yoongi was busy. Maybe he was having fun with Seokjin and Taehyung and Jungkook. You tried to be rational about it. Namjoon and Hobi both had work in the morning. They probably just wanted to come home early. You wished he would have texted you, but his phone was still new, so he wasn’t completely used to communicating with it yet.
But still, a small part of your brain couldn’t let you take comfort in that. What if you had upset him? Or–and you hated to think this way, but–what if Seokjin had said something to him? You weren’t a fan of Seokjin, but you knew he and Yoongi used to be close. You would have liked to believe that he wouldn’t say anything too cruel or try to turn Yoongi against you. But you literally had no idea what Seokjin was capable of.
Not for the first time that day, you felt the backs of your eyes sting. You felt dumb, both for being upset and for the whole pack thing. The way he had looked at you had hurt. It was like you had grown three heads in that moment. You were confused and angry, and you weren’t entirely sure why–or whom your feelings were directed towards, aside from yourself. You shut your eyes tightly, trying to talk yourself into not crying. If Yoongi walked in, you didn’t want to be crying.
You weren’t sure how much time passed after Hobi and Namjoon got home. Only that you could hear Namjoon snoring through the closed door of their bedroom, and that you had been laying there on the couch in silence for what felt like ages, unable to sleep. You had been there so long that you had gone nose-blind to Yoongi’s scent on the blanket under your head.
The front door creaked open and it genuinely shocked you. Though you weren’t quite sure how late it was, you were sure it was late. It would have been more practical for him to just stay the night at Seokjin’s. You heard him slip his shoes off quietly, but you closed your eyes before he entered the room. You had missed him–of course you had–but you weren’t entirely sure you wanted to have a conversation with him just yet.
He walked into the living room, his socked feet nearly silent against the wood of the floor. He hummed when he saw you laying on the couch, pausing in front of you and running a hand through your hair gently. He said nothing, continuing on his way to the bedroom. He was only in there for a few minutes when you heard him searching frantically for something, the telltale sounds of rustling and movement wafting through the almost-silent apartment. Suddenly, you could hear him coming back into the living room. He stood in front of you and you could feel his eyes on you.
He let out a sigh of relief. “There it is,” you heard him whisper. It dawned on you that he had been looking for his blanket. You felt bad for taking it from him, but didn’t say anything. His lips pressed against your temple briefly before he was gone again, back to the bedroom.
A few minutes passed, a still silence settling over the apartment once again, and you thought that perhaps Yoongi had gone to bed. You sighed softly, snuggling into your makeshift blanket-slash-pillow and tugging Hobi’s blanket tighter around you.
You were almost dozing when you heard the door to your bedroom open again. You were curious about what he was doing, but you kept your eyes closed. He padded into the living room, and you could feel his eyes on you. You heard him grunt and a soft ‘plop,’and suddenly, his ears were in your face, the soft fur tickling against your nose. He readjusted, you could hear him pushing his pillow this way and that to make it more comfortable before leaning into the couch. You heard him heave a heavy sigh, his breath fanning across your face gently.
“I know you aren’t asleep,” he whispered, voice barely audible despite his close proximity. “You snore.”
“I do not snore,” you grumbled, pulling the blanket up over your head.
Yoongi chuckled quietly. When you opened your eyes, he was sitting on the floor, holding his hand out, his thumb and forefinger only a few centimeters apart. “Little bit,” he teased, a gummy smile on his lips. “When you’re congested.” When he saw you weren’t laughing, he hummed, tilting his head to the side. “Why are you on the couch?” he asked softly, reaching up and pushing the blanket off your head.
“I don’t want to talk about it. It’s dumb.”
“I’m sure it’s not.” When you sighed and didn’t answer, his brows furrowed. “Hey.” Gently, he nudged his head into your chin, rubbing against you. “Talk to me.”
Your hand found his hair, playing with the soft strands. His roots had grown out terribly, the moonlight shining in through the window making the contrast between the blond tips and onyx roots even more obvious. Soon, he would need a haircut to fully remove the blond-now-honey tips. His hair was still soft as ever, though, and you grounded yourself in how it felt running through your fingers. Now that he was here, you were calmer, less anxious. But still, your conversation from earlier made you sad.
“You’re not my pack,” you said softly, pushing his hair back off his forehead. His brow furrowed in confusion, and his head tipped slightly to one side, a pout on his lips. For a brief moment, you thought you saw a look of sadness cross his face. But then, quick as it came, it was gone. You continued, sitting up slightly so you could prop yourself up on your elbow. “This afternoon when we were talking about the pack thing. You were right to question me.”
“I… that’s not what I meant,” he said sincerely, leaning into your touch as your hand continued to soothe through his hair. “I didn’t mean to imply that we weren’t-”
“I know.” And you did. You knew he hadn’t said it to be cruel, and maybe you had misinterpreted. But he was right. “But I’ve been thinking about it all day.” You cupped his cheek with one hand, your other falling from his hair to rest between his shoulder blades. “You were right. It’s not my pack. I shouldn’t have made that assumption.”
Yoongi frowned. “That’s what’s been bothering you all evening?”
“That’s the simplest thing that has been bothering me all evening,” you corrected, your thumb ghosting across the soft roundness of his cheek. “There’s other stuff.”
“Tell me?” He scooted closer so his chin was better resting on the pillow, one of his arms coming up to rest on the couch beside you, anchoring him in place.
You sighed, your head falling so that it was resting against Yoongi’s. He nuzzled into your neck slightly and your arms wrapped around him, the hand on his back coming up to cradle his head, your thumb rubbing small circles into the skin behind his human ear. Taking a deep breath, you let it out slowly, closing your eyes. Your nose was in his hair, his scent enveloping you, relaxing you. You had no idea where to even begin.
“I feel like I’m not doing enough for you all,” you admitted, mumbling into his hair. Your voice was softer than you intended it to be, but you knew he heard you because his ears pressed against his head.
“What do you mean?”
You hummed, attempting to lose yourself in the softness of his skin as your thumb continued to rub behind his ear. “I could do more to help you all be more independent. I feel like I’m holding you back. What if they want to leave?” Yoongi’s hand found yours, lacing his fingers through yours and resting your hands on the pillow beside his head. “There are still things they need if they want to move out on their own. And I basically told you not to get a job, and that’s not right.” You pulled away from him slightly so you could make eye contact. “If you want a job, of course you can get one.”
“I don’t want a job,” he said, placing a kiss on your knuckles. “I like helping you. I like when we go make deliveries. You don’t have to worry about that.”
“I just don’t want you all to feel trapped. I don’t want you to hate it here.” You sighed, leaning against the arm of the couch. “It’s dumb, but I don’t want to be just another bad memory. I don’t want to be like him.”
It was dark, but you could see the pained expression that crossed Yoongi’s face. “You could never be like him.” He squeezed your hand, sitting up fully so that he could lean in close. His lips brushed yours, first at the corner of your mouth, then full-on. “Do what you think you need to do,” he whispered when he pulled away, his forehead bumping against yours. “But know that you could fuck up a hundred thousand times, and you wouldn’t even come close to what he did.”
After a moment, you nodded, forehead rubbing against his. Yoongi offered you a wide smile before leaning in and kissing you once more. It was slow, gentle, and a little needy, his mouth moving against yours with a lazy passion.
“Come to bed?” he pleaded softly, copper eyes wide in the moonlight. He leaned back, arching his back as he stretched.
“How was the party?” you asked softly, sitting up and draping his basketball blanket over his shoulders.
Yoongi sat between your knees, his head lolling to the side to rest against your thigh briefly. “We’ll talk about it in the morning.”
He stood then, grabbing your hands and dragging you up with him. You were asleep almost instantly when your head hit the pillow, the warmth and pressure of Yoongi practically laying on top of you lulling you into a calm slumber.
Hybrid Min Yoongi x Female Reader; Platonic OT7 x Female Reader; Namseok; Jinkook
Summary:After helping Yoongi get away from his abusive former owner, you’re left to focus on your relationship and how it progresses. That is, until you find six other hybrids who need your help, and their former owner decides he’s going to make your life hell. Genre: hurt/comfort, angst, fluff Word Count: 1,459 Rating:M Warnings (updated per chapter): stalking, wild animal attack, major character injury, blood, implied homophobia, slight internalized homophobia, starvation, hospitalization, discussion of sexual assault, discussion of physical assault, discussion of controlling behavior, heavy petting, marking, slightly toxic relationship
Major thanks to @eatjeanjin for beta-ing this and for listening to me complain almost constantly. You’ve been nothing but helpful and sweet, and I’m so grateful for your opinions and assistance.
You sat on a bench outside of the courthouse. The same bench, in fact, that you and Yoongi had sat on almost three years ago as you waited for Ms. Hwang to arrive. This time, though, you were waiting on Taehyung. It was the day of his emancipation trial, and he had asked you and Yoongi to come with him, but he didn’t want you to come into the courtroom. You had learned that Taehyung was fiercely private. Even when he told you things about his past, he was often cryptic and vague unless he was talking about the group or things you already knew about. If you didn’t already have an idea of the situation from Yoongi, you were certain you would have no idea what Taehyung had even gone through.
The late August air was stifling, and though there was a breeze going, it wasn’t doing much to make the temperature more tolerable. Yoongi sat beside you on the bench, his tail gently curling and uncurling behind him. Every once in a while, it would come up and tickle your neck, which you suspected he was doing on purpose. You were nervous–he was, too–despite the fact that you knew Taehyung’s case was solid. But the amount of space in your apartment, or lack thereof, concerned you. So much so that you had started searching for apartments on one of those online realtor sites.
There were a few nice ones in your price range that had enough bedrooms. You chewed your thumb as you scrolled through photos on your phone. You knew you needed four bedrooms at least to accommodate the hybrids and give you a space for your office, but there was a nice five-bedroom apartment that was only a hundred dollars more a month than you were hoping to pay. The kitchen was smaller than your current one, and there was no island, but the living room was huge, so there would be room for a table. The bedrooms were on the smaller side, but they were nicely laid out, and it wasn’t like they were so small they wouldn’t fit furniture inside. There were two and a half bathrooms–one each on the second floor and basement of the apartment, and the half bath on the first floor off the kitchen–and you couldn’t help but think that it would be nice to not have to share a bathroom with five men.
You tugged on Yoongi’s sleeve, gently pulling him away from the book he was reading. Neither of you had been sure how long Taehyung’s hearing would take. Yoongi’s had taken a solid two hours, but Ms. Hwang said that they varied based on the judge and the strength of the case. So Yoongi had brought a book to keep himself entertained while you waited. It took a second for him to put his bookmark in the page and focus on you, but when he did, his copper eyes met yours and kept your gaze.
“What do you think of this?” you asked him, turning your phone so he could look at the screen.
He took it from you, swiping away a notification for a text from Namjoon. You watched as he scrolled through the photos, his brow furrowing the more he tapped the ‘next’ button. It was hard to tell what he was thinking, but his ears were relaxed, and his tail was still happily swaying in the breeze, so it couldn’t all be bad. He drew his lower lip into his mouth as he handed your phone back.
“It’s nice,” he said simply. His copper eyes followed you as you swiped through the pictures again.
“But…?” You could tell he wanted to say more.
“That’s a lot of money for rent.”
“It’s really not that bad of a price for the neighborhood,” you told him.
And really, it wasn’t. The apartment was on the other side of the park, a few blocks past where Hobi worked, conveniently in Bushwick–the same neighborhood that Seokjin lived in. Bushwick was a nice neighborhood, quieter than the one you lived in, but just as friendly. And the apartment had five bedrooms! That was a lot in any neighborhood in the borough. You were honestly surprised it didn’t cost more.
“That’s still a lot of money,” Yoongi repeated, his arm wrapping around your shoulders and pulling you close. He looked at your phone over your shoulder.
“I know. But with Namjoon and Hobi’s income, we could make it work.” You put your phone down and leaned your head to the side, resting it against his. “And Taehyung can get a job once his emancipation goes through.”
“What about Jungkook?” he asked softly, playing with your fingers. “What about me?”
“I would love for you to stay home,” you admitted. You were a little afraid of coming across as too possessive or controlling, so you hadn’t really talked much about it. You’d only said it that one time, when you had originally talked about the hybrids getting jobs, but you liked having him around. Knowing he was always there was comforting. Working from home got lonely, so it was nice when he hung out in your office with you. “But I don’t want to seem like I’m trying to control you. I support you.”
He squeezed your fingers, resting his head against yours. “I know you do.” He sighed. “And Jungkook?”
“I don’t want to hold him back from being happy,” you said softly. “I don’t want to plan on him being around if he doesn’t want to be.”
Yoongi chuckled. “By that argument, you could say you couldn’t plan on the others being around, either.”
He was right. But if the other hybrids didn’t want to live with you any more, you wouldn’t have to move. Either way, you supposed, problem solved. One solution would just be more ideal than the other. You liked your little pack.
“We’ll just have to talk to them,” you said resolutely. Yoongi nodded, picking his book back up, but continuing to rest against you.
You weren’t sure how much time passed before you spotted Ms. Hwang and Taehyung exiting the courthouse. Ms. Hwang looked windblown as ever, her flowy shirt billowing around her in the breeze. She carried her leather briefcase in one hand, her other hand gesticulating as she talked with Taehyung. The panther hybrid, for his part, looked excited, a wide, boxy smile on his lips.
“Well?” you asked, standing up to greet them.
Taehyung threw his arms around Yoongi, who made a small noise of protest but patted the panther hybrid’s arm gently. “We did it!” he exclaimed, practically vibrating from the excitement.
Yoongi grinned. “That’s great, Taehyung-ah!”
“Congratulations!” you said, catching Taehyung in your arms as he bounced over to you.
“He should receive his paperwork in the mail in a few days,” Ms. Hwang said, shifting her briefcase from one hand to the other. “As you know, once he receives that, he is eligible for employment, housing, et cetera.”
You nodded. “Great. We’ll keep an eye out for it.”
“Actually…” Taehyung pulled away, taking a step back. “I uh… I’ll keep an eye out for it at Jin-hyung’s house.”
Yoongi looked at the younger hybrid, an eyebrow raised in confusion. His ears were pressed to his head in concern. “Why would it go there?”
“Jin-hyung asked if I wanted to move in with him.” Taehyung’s eyes fell to his feet as he toed at the pavement. “Just, you know, temporarily. Since there isn’t enough room at your place. And I was worried that you having the other four would hurt my chances.”
You nodded. “Yeah. Okay. That makes sense.”
Outwardly, you grinned. Inwardly, you kind of felt like someone was squeezing one of your lungs. You weren’t quite sure why you were having such a strong reaction to this news. You and Taehyung weren’t close. Your relationship wasn’t as tense as it had been, but you were nowhere near as close to him as you were with Jungkook or Hobi. But with Jungkook spending the majority of his time at Seokjin’s, this seemed like it would have wider implications for your little pack.
Taehyung eyed you cautiously, long tail flicking behind him. “Are you… are you sure?”
“Yeah, of course. If Seokjin is willing to take you in, then it was smart to use his address.”
You felt Yoongi grasp the back of your shirt, his hand balling into the fabric. From how tight his grip was, you could tell he wasn’t happy with the situation, either, but, like you, he wasn’t willing to stir the pot.
“I’ll leave you three to it, then.” Ms. Hwang offered a small smile, taking a step backwards. “Congratulations again, Mr. Kim.”
Hybrid Min Yoongi x Female Reader; Platonic OT7 x Female Reader; Namseok; Jinkook
Summary:After helping Yoongi get away from his abusive former owner, you’re left to focus on your relationship and how it progresses. That is, until you find six other hybrids who need your help, and their former owner decides he’s going to make your life hell. Genre: hurt/comfort, angst, fluff Word Count: 898 Rating:M Warnings (updated per chapter): stalking, wild animal attack, major character injury, blood, implied homophobia, slight internalized homophobia, starvation, hospitalization, discussion of sexual assault, discussion of physical assault, discussion of controlling behavior, heavy petting, marking, slightly toxic relationship
Major thanks to @eatjeanjin for beta-ing this and for listening to me complain almost constantly. You’ve been nothing but helpful and sweet, and I’m so grateful for your opinions and assistance.
“Can I help?” Hobi’s voice startled Yoongi, drawing his focus away from counting cups of uncooked rice out into the steamer.
The viper hybrid leaned against the kitchen island, his eyes drooping slightly. Yoongi shook his head. “I’m good. Go relax. You look like hell.”
“Thanks, hyung.” Hobi offered him a flat smile. “Can’t I do something? If I relax, I’ll fall asleep, and then I won’t be able to sleep tonight.”
Yoongi pushed a cutting board and a handful of cucumbers across the counter. “Peel. Then thin circles.”
Hobi nodded and diligently got to work. Yoongi watched him for a moment, his eyes following the younger hybrid’s fingers as he slowly peeled the skin off the vegetables. He wasn’t very practiced at cooking, but he tried his best. And really, that’s what mattered.
They worked in silence for a while, the only sounds being the slow, rhythmic ‘thwick’ of Hobi’s knife against the cutting board and the whisk Yoongi was using to mix the marinade for the bulgogi he was making for the next day’s dinner. But then Hobi yawned, his long fangs on full display.
“You okay?” Yoongi asked nonchalantly, grabbing another cutting board and a large knife. “I wasn’t kidding earlier. You look exhausted.”
Hobi waved him off. “It’s just work. We’re trying to prepare for this winter.”
“What’s this winter?”
“Unhoused people need shelter more in the winter than they do in the summer months. I guess last year, they got swamped with clients. The shelter only has so many beds, so they’re trying to find people willing to foster some homeless hybrids while it’s cold.”
Yoongi hummed, nodding in understanding. He knew better than almost anyone what it was like to be left out in the cold during the worst of the winter. He’d lived in the forest on his own for months. Still, to this day, he could feel the chill seeping into his fur when it started to get cold.
“They asked me to help with group therapy,” Hobi said softly, his knife abandoned for the moment. “So I might have to start staying late some nights.”
“That’s great, Hobi. You like it there, then?”
The viper nodded. “I like helping. So many of the hybrids who use the shelter… hyung, it’s sad to see some of them. A lot of them are like us.”
“We’re lucky,” Yoongi responded firmly, chopping into the steak he pulled from the freezer. “I’m glad you’re enjoying it. It’s good they’re letting you help. You could be like a… a proof of success for them. Show them things can get better.”
“You think?”
“Yeah of course.”
Silence fell again over the two hybrids. Yoongi continued to cut the steak into strips, dividing it into bags and pouring the marinade into them. Done with his cucumbers, Hobi sat watching Yoongi work, his vertically slitted eyes following the cat hybrid’s every move. Yoongi’s tail swayed behind him as he cooked, his ears swiveling this way and that to capture sounds outside.
It was quiet in the house. You had taken Jungkook and Taehyung to the park, both to visit Namjoon at work and so that the pup and panther could shift safely and stretch their legs. Which was perfectly fine with Yoongi. You had been overworking yourself lately, and while he was a little jealous that you weren’t staying home and spending time with him, Yoongi was glad to have some time to prep meals.
“Hey hyung?”
Yoongi’s back was to Hobi, but he could hear the worried look on the viper’s face. He finished putting the bagged steak into the fridge before turning to face the younger man.
“Why…” Hobi played with his fingers nervously. “Why don’t you like to shift?”
Yoongi shrugged. “I’m surprised you and Namjoon still want to. I spent three months as a cat starving and scared for my life. That’s not really something I’m interested in reliving.”
“But you’re safe now.” Hobi frowned. “I thought you would want to share that part of yourself with her. It’s… it’s half of you.”
Yoongi leaned against the counter. “Obviously, she knows. And I’ve accidentally shifted a few times. But…” He trailed off and shook his head.
He wasn’t sure how to finish that sentence. He’d never particularly thought about it before. It wasn’t like he didn’t want to shift–he used to like being a cat. It could be convenient sometimes, to be smaller and more compact, and he did like when you doted on him. But being a cat made him vulnerable. He was smaller, easier to harm. He knew you would never, but why invite something terrible to happen?
Hobi smiled gently, handing the cutting board of cut cucumbers over to Yoongi. “It’s fine if you’re uncomfortable. I didn’t bring it up to make it seem like you were doing something wrong. I just think that… I don’t know. We can finally be ourselves here. She encourages us to be weird and let loose. I think it would mean a lot to her if you trusted her with that part of yourself more often.”
Yoongi sighed. Of course he trusted you. You’d proven more times than he could count that not only would you not hurt him, you wanted to take care of him. You cared about him. As he seasoned the cucumbers, he frowned.
Here it is y'all, the long awaited Chapter 5!! I hope it’s not too disappointing, but I had to rewrite it on my phone, and I wanted to get it out to you guys as soon as possible, so it’s a little rushed. I’m so sorry for the long wait. Without further ado, please enjoy!!
The Whisperer Chapter 5
Jerking your head towards the sound of the voice, you saw a man with short white hair leaning against the doorway, while wearing a white t-shirt and a pair of dark-wash jeans, which you recognized as some of the clothes you’d bought for when the guys were able to shift back.
Knowing that you’d have heard the door open, you glanced down at the animals standing in between you and the man. Doing a mental head count, you quickly came to a conclusion, which was only confirmed when Jimin spoke.
“Namjoon, I didn’t know you’d shifted yet! How long have you been able to?” His tone was a mixture of delight and confusion.
Namjoon scratched the back of his head as he smiled shyly. You secretly melted over his dimples. “A week maybe. I didn’t want to make any of you feel bad by telling you guys, so I was just gonna keep it a secret until a few of you had shifted again.” He suddenly turned serious again as he looked you in the eyes.
“But, I couldn’t stand hearing Y/N downplay her role in our lives like that. I knew you wouldn’t be comfortable outright telling her, so I decided to help by doing it for you.”
To say you were shocked was an understatement. The word ‘Mate’ kept bouncing itself around in your head. You knew what it meant. How could you not? Your mother and father had been mates, and had taught you the importance of finding them, and treasuring them if you ever did.
Mates, or soulmates as humans called it were said to be the one who completed you like no other. They were literally the other half of your soul, and could understand you on a level that went far deeper than any other connection you could possibly find.
It was especially rare in hybrids, and the impact was made even stronger due to the fact that most hybrids’ instincts were much stronger than a human’s, so the pull would be that much more intense.
Because finding your mate was such a rare occurance, hybrids felt that they were to be revered by any who were lucky enough to find them. You’d always dreamed of finding yours, and to know that you not only had seven,but that they’d been living with you for so long, and you’d never even known it, threw you for a loop, and upset you more than you expected.
That’s not to say you weren’t happy, because you were- ecstatic even. While it’s a lot to take in, having seven mates not only meant that you had seven times more love, care, and affection than most, but it also meant that you got to share yours with them all as well. Having multiple mates wasn’t exactly unheard of, so the thought of having seven, surprisingly enough, didn’t bother you at all.
However, you were upset at yourself for not realizing it sooner.
Now that you thought about it, about the instinctual connection you’d felt upon seeing them the first time. The feeling of rightness that you felt every time you were around even one of them. The constant, burning need to be near them. It all made sense. Everything suddenly clicked into place.
So lost in your thoughts, you hadn’t even realised you were crying until you felt a hand gently wipe a tear from your face.
Startled, you looked up into the brown eyes of Namjoon, who had, at some point, replaced Jimin’s spot in front of you. Everyone was looking at you in concern.
“Are you alright, Y/N?” Namjoon asked.
“M-mates? H-how did I not notice? Why didn’t I realise it sooner? God, I’m so stupid.” You sobbed, burying your head into his chest.
“No you’re not, Y/N. Maybe the connection was just diluted because we’ve been stuck in our animal forms for so long. Or it could be because your Hybrid blood isn’t that strong, so you don’t feel the full impact like you should. I don’t know for sure.” He said, rubbing your back soothingly.
“Wait, you know that I’m part hybrid?” You asked, surprised, pulling your head away from him to look at his face.
“Of course. We all do. We smelled it as soon as we met. At first, we just thought that you smelled like a hybrid because of your job, but then we noticed that the scent is slightly stronger after you shower. Of course, scents like that normally wash off instead of grow stronger, so we kind of pieced it together shortly after coming to live with you.” He explained, grinning down at you as he once again cleared your face of tears.
Giving him a watery smile, you hugged him tightly before releasing him. Stepping away, you were engulfed in another embrace by Jimin. After relishing the feeling of being in his arms for a moment, you were brought out of your thoughts by a loud grumble.
Laughing, you let him go and crouched down so you could give your five other mates the attention they desperately wanted.
After a while, you collected yourself and sent everyone into the living room so you could finish cooking your previously forgotten meal.
When everyone had eaten and the kitchen was cleaned, you all retired to your room, exhausted after the emotional rollercoaster you’d all experienced that day.
That night, namjoon and Jimin slept on either side of you, with Yoongi at your feet, Hoseok as your pillow, and the three smaller ones in various places on top of you. You swore you’d never slept better than when being held and surrounded by who you now knew were your mates.
Hello everyone! I just wanted to say that I’m not dead, and I’m soooooo sorry for the long wait between chapters, but I’ve lost my internet, so I’m rarely able to get online anymore, and I currently don’t even have my laptop, which means I can’t write as of right now. I just wanted to say thank you to everyone that has read The Whisperer so far! And to all who have PMed, Commented, or Asked. ..You guys will never know how much your words are appreciated! It makes me so happy that you enjoy my story, and I promise you all that I WILL eventually post the next chapter. I refuse to abandon this story!
However, I do have a slight problem… I’ve had so many different people ask me to tag them in so many different ways, that it’s nearly impossible to keep up. Sooo, if you have NOT already been tagged in a previous chapter (since I’ll be using my last taglist as a reference), then even if you’ve already asked to be tagged, or if you haven’t asked, but would still like to be tagged, then please drop a ♀️ in the comment section of this post, so that I’ll know for sure, and will be less likely to forget to tag you in the next chapter’s taglist. And from now on, to make it easier on myself, in between each chapter post, I will make a post for all newcomers to reply to, to show they want to be tagged, and I’ll only use those posts to make my taglists, so please bare with me, and I hope I don’t upset anyone if I don’t tag you. It’s not that I’m purposely not doing so, it’s just that this story has gotten a lot more love than I ever expected, and with so many asks, comments, and messages, it’s hard for me to keep up with everyone that wants to be added.
author’s note: any and all creations made by user: btsydtrash (also known as haveagreatday on ao3) are works of absolute fiction. nothing mentioned should be related to the boys in real life. respect the privacy of the members and enjoy fiction as fiction. thank you, cuties!
any questions about story lore or headcanons, just shoot me a dm and we can talk about it, if it doesn’t give spoilers for later content. also, any stories marked [complete] will not be edited or added to.
I do not have any tag lists for any of my stories.
Everyone had heard of the Dirty7s, even distantly. Nobody could put names or faces to the members, but the name was enough to strike fear in the hearts of civilians, criminals, and law enforcement alike. They’re known to be methodical, impenetrable, and most of all, merciless. Nobody wants to cross any of them. Lest of all you - a college student stripping to pay her debts.
What happens when you fall into their web of deceit and lies?
What happens when you find you don’t want to escape, even when you know you should?
Masterlist / i don’t have a tag list / find me on twitter / word count: 3.2k
Pre-heat hits you like a bag of bricks to the forehead.
You weren’t allowed on the club’s premises until your heat had completely passed, so it gives you one day before it starts and two days on the tail-end for scent regulation. According to legal regulations for both predators and prey working nightlife and entertainment. Even patrons existing on either side of the speciation spectrum had to abide by these rules as evidence of rut and heat was too obvious to hide.
Some used scent-blockers to try and wiggle around the rules but it never ended up well for anyone involved. Gang rapes, pheromone-induced premature rut or heat, neurotoxin-sickness brought on by rapid-exposure to uncontrolled semiochemicals. All of it, well-documented and heavily-regulated by employers and social-workers alike.
By purposefully triggering another person’s heat or rut, you could end up being imprisoned for up to two years or fined an exorbitant amount of money that would make you regret even bothering.
Technically, working at the library wasn’t dangerous despite your heat coming in tomorrow, so you tried to go in for a couple of hours to help re-arrange the new kid’s fiction section that you had created for the pre-schoolers that came in every other day for an hour in the mornings, but your cramps got so bad that your manager sent you some with some herbal tea and a gentle pat on the back.
Your manager, Areum, was a Beta owl-hybrid, with wide eyes and thick glasses that make her look far more innocent than she actually was. Her partner and wife, Mina, was an Omega owl-hybrid that liked to make sweet treats in her spare time. You had a number of her Tupperware containers in your cupboards that you were due to give back a long while ago.
You take the subway because you can’t afford another cab this month and it takes you about an hour before you can breach the safety of your own home, smelling your comfort scents.
A guy on the train makes a rude gesture at you, two fingers spread and his tongue working between the digits, and it makes you recoil in disgust. He doesn’t seem to like the fact that you aren’t into it, and he flips you off before he gets off at his station.
The whole ordeal makes you feel even more weary.
Blearily, you grab your blanket from the couch and undress yourself on the way to your bed, tripping a little over your pant leg and tossing your dirty clothes somewhere off to the side. Your sensitive nose can’t stand the scent of outsideon your clothes. It almost makes you want to burn them but you know how delusional that sounds.
You bang your hip on the bedside table and you curse, side throbbing and your head banging along with it.
Disorientated, you rifle through your drawers until you lay your hands on medicine for the headache and wrap yourself up in the sheets without a second’s thought.
It takes you a little while to drift off, the effects of the medication ebbing at the aches in your body slowly - it feels slower than usual - and seconds before you actually dissolve into the welcoming blanket of black that bleeds into your vision, you hear your phone ping from somewhere in your pile of clothes.
When you open your eyes, your room is pitch dark. The curtains are drawn open, but the only passing light you can see are the lights from the buildings across the way. You are too high up to be bothered by street lights, but you can hear the distant car driving across the highway your building was built near.
The reason you woke up wasn’t due to the arbitrary sounds of life outside of your window.
No, what woke you from your near-dead slumber was the incessant sound of your phone ringing that had bled into your dreams. In your dream-turned-nightmare, the talking beetle that had been your companion for your mythical journey spontaneously turned into a gigantic, human-eating cellphone and chased you down the street until you jolted out of bed, sweating.
Blinking away your bleariness, you roll out of bed and move to your feet, but, much to your shock, your legs turn to jelly. You have to drag yourself across the room to rifle through the pile of clothes, grimacing every time another smell hit your nose. Asphalt, grit, smog, cigarette smoke, human smell, other hybrids - it was all foul enough to make you feel distressed.
You grab the phone and push it to your ears. “Hello?”
“YN, are you okay?”
You pause for a moment, confusion taking over your features. “Jimin?”
He enquires, somewhat impatient, “Are you okay?”
You push your fingers into your eyes when a sudden burst of light makes your headache feel nauseous. “No, I feel shitty.”
“Why?”
You grumble, “Heat.”
A beat.
Then,“You’re in heat now?”
He sounds testy.
You clarify, “Not exactly.”
He grills, “Are you… Are you alone?”
Your frown deepens as you query, “Why?”
Jimin commands, amusement leaking into his tone, “Just answer the question, Pretty.”
You grumble, “Only Jungkook calls me that.”
He retorts, silkily, “Exactly why I’m doing the same.”
You decide to drop it. It didn’t matter what he called you, not right now. The blistering headache that had felt like it was burning through your body mere moments ago seems to be lessening gradually the longer you talk with the man. “I’m alone.”
Jimin replies, “Good. Keep it that way.”
“Why?”
He replies, simply, “You don’t need anybody. Not anymore.”
He’s lucky that pre-heat only gave you headaches and body shivers. You didn’t get horny until day two or three of your heat, especially considering you were without a heat-partner. But, something about his tone was testing that theory.
“I’ll bring whoever I want into my bed,” you respond, pressing the button for loud speaker. Your stomach pangs in hunger and now that your headache isn’t as over-bearing, you finally feel it. You move to your feet, kicking past the clothes you dropped on the way, and into your small kitchen. “That’s got nothing to do with you. Boss.”
You tack the end word on purpose, to remind him of his position in your life. “We might have shared a fun night of conversation, Jimin, but don’t get that confused with anything else.”
He lets out a gruff sounds, annoyed but not angry, before he answers, “And Jungkook? What about him? You think he’ll be happy with you spending your heat under somebody else?”
You barely hold back a sardonic laugh. “You were the one to remind me of my place in Jungkook’s life. Or did you suddenly forget that?”
He goes quiet on the phone, so silent that you have to look at the screen to check if he’s still on the line, before he grits out, “I’m sorry. For saying that.”
“No, you aren’t,” you return, cracking another egg into the bowl. A stuffed omelette sounds like just the right. Your heat was making your mouth loose, ignoring the risk to your job in that moment to get the truth off your chest. You continue, “Alphas like you never are. You just say whatever, do whatever and everyone else just listens. You’re never sorry because you don’t feel like you have to be.”
“I could be a different kind of Alpha,” he bargains, always the charmer. “You don’t know that.”
“Our first encounter says otherwise,” you answer. “Jungkook’s impression was much better.”
“He’s not as nice as you think,” Jimin grumbles like an admonished kid. “You wouldn’t like him more than you like me if you knew.”
“He’s already told me how bad of a guy he is,” you respond. “It’s kind of like a broken record at this point.”
He asks, noting your distracted tone of voice, “Are you doing something?”
You respond, shoveling the cooked mushrooms into the one half of the still-cooking omelette, “Cooking.”
Jimin remarks, “It’s eleven at night.”
You respond, absently, “I’ve been asleep all day.”
He asks, attentively, “Where does it hurt?”
You respond, honestly. You rummage through the refrigerator for some hot sauce to go over the top, “Headache, mostly. I feel better now though.”
Jimin prompts, “Since you slept?”
You shake your head, even though he can’t see you, and you return, honestly, “Since we started talking.”
He acknowledges, and you hear the pride in his voice so clearly, as if he were standing right next to you, “I’ve heard that just by hearing an Alpha’s voice, sometimes the effects of heat can relax.”
You riposte, almost amusedly, “Oh really?”
He hums. “How about we try something next time?”
You suggest, annoyance leaking into your tone, “A sex thing?”
Jimin laughs, the sound bright and buoyant, before he teases, “Your mind’s in the gutter.”
Unable to help yourself, you palliate, defensively, “I am in heat.”
Jimin tuts gently before he says, “I just meant we spend a little time together. See if we’re compatible.”
You respond, with an eye roll, “So this is about sex?”
He takes a moment to mull over your words before he clarifies, “That’s something we could work out later.”
You bite on your bottom lip, the suggestion of mind-numbing, deeply-satisfying sex making a coil of tension grow in your lower stomach.
You shove another mouthful of omelet into your mouth to stop yourself from letting out the breathy whine that threatens to escape your throat, and you grumble, “Talking about this with me is a little improper right now. I’m not in the right headspace to make these kinds of decisions.”
Jimin says, simply, “That’s why we’ll talk about it later.”
You clear your throat and reply,“Look, I’m eating and talking to you is making me jumpy.”
He counters, easily, and you can just imagine him, sprawling out on the couch, spreading his legs apart to just occupy space, “Okay. If Jungkook or I call you over the next couple of days, can I ask you to just pick up?”
“Why?”
“Not being able to see you is hard for him,” Jimin explains. He pauses for a moment before he carries on, “He’s scheduled for a couple fights over the next week or so and he gets into these funny head-spaces where he can’t talk in full sentences or empathize with anyone about anything. So, I told him I’d check on you.”
“Jungkook doesn’t care about me,” you grumble around a mouthful of cheese, egg and mushrooms. “He’s got a hard-on for me. There’s a difference.”
He makes a surprised sound in the back of his throat and he mutters, “If only you knew how wrong you were about that, Pretty.”
Something in his voice almost sounded regretful, but you ignore it, chalking it up to your heat making you crave things that you need to lock up tight in your heart.
“I have to go,” you say, suddenly.
He demands, hurt, “What? Why?”
“I’m tired again,” you respond, quietly, looking down at the half-full plate of steaming food, and the lack of appetite that washes over you frustrates you deeply. “I just want to sleep.”
“O-Okay, Pretty. I’ll call you tomorrow,” he promises. “Pick up when I do… Please.”
Quickly, you end the call and toss the phone into the sofa. You toss the food into the refrigerator, knowing your body well enough to know that the urge to eat has disappeared for at least another three hours and in that time you know you can catch a bit of sleep before your body was thrown into over-drive.
Jimin’s POV
Letting YN put the phone down was harder than he thought it would be. His instincts were growling at him to go and see you in person - just to make sure you were okay with his own two eyes. He’s almost confused as to why he cares so much, considering he isn’t the one who wants to claim you.
Or, at least, he doesn’t think he does.
Not like Jungkook does.
Jungkook’s been on your ass like white on rice since the day you ran into his chest at the club, all teary-eyed with a rabbiting heartbeat. The wolf excitedly came home to tell the rest of the boys about this pretty little gazelle that he couldn’t keep his eyes or hands off of, and that made him curious.
The others too.
Namjoon even had someone follow her at one point without Jungkook’s permission to make sure she wasn’t on the take or working with the cops. When he showed her picture to the rest of us, Hoseok almost jumped out of his skin with how fast he snatched it out of Joonie’s hand, eagerly explaining about how he knew about her.
The whole story about her friend working the blade and getting caught selling ass to a cop, then getting feisty with him and get popped in the mouth a couple times. YN came into a den of predators, an alpha-beta medley of pheromones that would have any prey skittish and crawling out of their skin, nervous but determined, and helped her friend home.
Hoseok found her unbearably cute, and brave, and he couldn’t stop himself from following her home. Hobi was a great tracker, his nose was better than any cop in his graduating class, and he found your apartment easily. He couldn’t enter, of course, with it being a prey-only complex.
But, he did sporadically park his car in the lot outside of your place or follow you home once he figured out you were working at the library, and then later at the strip club. He didn’t like it, thinking that it wasn’t a good place for you, thinking that it was dangerous, but he knows that it was only because he couldn’t go inside. He couldn’t risk you remembering his face, not when he hadn’t figured out how he wanted to approach you.
Hoseok surveilled voluntarily, never telling any of us about his pet project, but he did enjoy recounting all the times he got to see you in your element, much to Jungkook’s displeasure.
Hobi spent a whole lot of time gloating about how pretty you were, how kind you were even when eyes weren’t on you, how special you were, how brave you were, how sweet you smelled even on rainy days.
It was enough to bolster Jimin’s interest in you.
Jungkook was picky about things like this. It was his first time actually having someone catch his eye like this, so he wouldn’t let anyone come near you. Every time Jimin even mentioned coming into the club for a peek, Jungkook would start his posturing, tail swishing and a growl growing in his chest until Jimin eventually reneged.
Jungkook was technically higher up on their pack’s hierarchy than he was, although they never needed to enforce their dynamics at home. The only time they ever had to was during negotiations with other gangs to prove that there was a clear line of deference that ended with Namjoon, their leader.
Even though their home life wasn’t the same way, they needed to have the respect of the usually-traditional syndicates that they dealt with, otherwise they would be considered weak and would attract problems from other sadistic Alpha packs who thrived on violence and domination.
To do so, they had to show other people in their line of work that they had an unshakeable foundation built on deference and inflexible respect.
Although, they had mouth-pieces to work in their stead so they didn’t have to risk having their names and faces circulating. Men and women who, using their connections and endless streams of income, they had hoisted out of the dumpster and turned back into working, living human beings.
Men and women who they didn’t have to ask twice to do anything.
Men and women who owed them their lives, the very breath in their lungs.
Men and women who would die for them if they asked, falling on their sword without a moment’s hesitation.
As far as they knew, no law enforcement had their faces or real names, but a few members had a more public role.
Jimin, as the silent owner of a series of discotheques and strip clubs.
Jungkook, who was an under-ground fighter and wan involved with a couple of the big players pushing drugs out of his and some other gyms in the state. He didn’t just push drugs out of the gyms, obviously, but that was where he liked to prowl around the most.
Even Namjoon, whose official job was that of an international trader of foreign and exotic hybrids, meaning that he had to work closely with customs and even sometimes cops.
They knew our faces but have no idea just how deep the rabbit-hole goes. Never would they actually guess that the seven ‘menial players’ werethe cruel and vengeful organization that left fear in the hearts of criminals and cops alike across the country.
Yoongi, Hoseok, Taehyung and Jin all made the rest of their substantial income and their illicit connections being knee-deep in the illegal.
So, when Jungkook ended up falling into a rut after taking one too many sniffs of your underwear in bed, Jimin took that opportunity to go around his order.
The tabby-cat walked into the strip club, smelling the sex and sin in the air, and immediately spotted you on the top of the pole, dressed in ostentatiously bright zebra-print with a charming, seductive smile on your face that was equal parts siren as it was endearing. He could see it - the pretty in you, the softness in you, the sexy in you.
Jimin was techincally the boss’ boss’ boss so while Rocky knew him by name, the others staff didn’t.
Just the way he liked it.
He got his favorite drink sent up to their private VVIP lounge (somewhere that only he and the other six could even access) and spent the next hour silently lusting after you. He watched you, observed your behavior so closely that it was concerning, and he sent photos of you in all kinds of positions to Jungkook for spank-bank material.
Jimin felt the cravings before he started to notice the changes in his body. Alcohol stopped doing it for him a long time ago, which is when his habit started. He could control himself, most of the time, but when he got antsy and needed to ground himself in Joonie’s scent (and Namjoon had been out of the fucking country for half a month scouting for omega predators on behalf of some perverted oil tycoon in Dubai so he was already pissed off and uncomfortable), sometimes he had to rely on other means of calming himself down.
Jimin couldn’t help it. When he saw you walk in in the reflection of the glass, he let out some of that frustration on you - innocent and adorable you - and had you on your knees in seconds. He didn’t really expect you to be able to withstand how strong his compulsion was, but he was surprised by how queasy you looked.
It made him feel guilty.
Which is an emotion he wasn’t accustomed to feeling, not even towards omegas. He liked them, any alpha would, but he didn’t feel sorryfor the things he did to them, especially if it wasn’t his fault.
None of them felt feelings of guilt or regret. It had been long beaten out of them at the group home, or after many years of working knee-deep in murder, drugs and solicitation.
That should’ve been the first indication that you weren’t going to be a normal omega to him.
summary: the reader is a bunny hybrid with a past that has left her traumatized and struggling to heal. some things can be helped with therapy, but some things can only be fixed through realizing you’re not all of the things that hurt you—you are, in fact, just loved.
The garden of The Violet was lush and sprawling, filling everything the eye could see with green leaves, bright flowers, and twinkling butterflies. The day was perfect; spring had just begun and the days were perfectly cool, the sun warming whatever parts of people it could touch. The humans moving around were all smiling, making polite conversation, and snacking on whatever food had been put out by the catering company. The banner that hung over the entrance to the garden reminded everyone that they were there for a cause: The Violet Hybrid Awareness Fund. As if the attendees could forget anyway.
The Violet had set up the event to raise awareness for hybrid care and hybrid lives—something the foundation had become directly involved in when they opened a shelter of their own almost a decade prior. Hybrid rights was a young movement but there were more and more people dedicating themselves to being a voice for the hybrids who were constantly being silenced. The Violet had invited some of the community’s most powerful and influential people to spend the day learning more about hybrid life and how they can help hybrids even if they didn’t want to adopt one.
There had been classes on almost every kind of hybrid and what they were like. There were classes on hybrid treatment (and cases of mistreatment). There were classes detailing The Violet’s plan to improve as many hybrid lives as possible. Currently, hybrids still had to be adopted to be free, and when they were in public they were required by law to wear their collars. The Violet, however, wanted hybrids to be enabled to gain their independence and autonomy without fear of humans interfering or hurting them.
While it was now generally frowned upon to have hybrids as servants, there were plenty of people in the world who thought of hybrids as property they paid for and could do what they wanted with. There were a few programs forming that worked to create policies that protected hybrids and made it possible to prosecute people who treated their hybrids inhumanely, but there was still a lot of work to be done. The Violet was asking communities to partner with them in the fight.
The morning had been filled with information and passionate words from founders of The Violet as well as from employees who had one story or another of how they were faced with the injustice of hybrid treatment and how they chose to stand and fight for those who were not allowed to fight for themselves. It was all very emotional and moving, if Park Jimin did say so himself.
“The idea of being free was a foreign concept. Being free meant having choices, having opportunities. Being a hybrid meant never being free.”
Summary:Just as you escaped the Little Fox, a bidding house, you find yourself at war with your thoughts, not wanting to go to another shelter. You didn’t expect yourself to find a home anywhere, especially not with the men who found you, and their pack.
Warnings: insecurities, anxiety, past abuse, past sexual abuse, mentions of rape/noncon, some violence, mentions of violence. Some warnings may be added to the beginning of individual chapters.
◈ summary: no one ever told you that you had a soulmate or—soulmates for that matter. humans don’t have soulmates but shapeshifters do. what are you supposed to do when the seven members of the worlds biggest boy band turn out to be your soulmates—only for you to realise that they aren’t even human.
the band is on a hiatus and army thinks they are completing their mandatory military service. you believe that too, at least you did, until you realized that you had adopted them and that one way or another they were gonna live with you—as hybrids because apparently you all are soulmates.
◈ (hybrid au // soulmate au // idol au) (fluff // humour // smut // angst // eventually nsfw) (nc-18) (ot7 x reader) (slow burn)
Part 1 of my multiverse au mini series. Massive thank you to @oknymz/@shadowofahope for keeping me alive and sane and editing bits for me, otherwise I would have run away from this completely. And to everyone who kept cheering me on.
Warnings: 9k words, possessiveness, testosterone, jealousy, suggestive shit, sexual tension, general horniness, mentions of scenting + marking + breeding (the usual hybrid trope stuff). Blood (only a few drops).
You were late… not actually late, not by the company’s standards, but by your own. The bunny hybrid watches the clock tick closer to the scheduled meeting time, bodies pouring into the room with their own scents, but he couldn’t smell you. You normally attend meetings half an hour early to set up, Jin had noticed the habit and the maknae was hoping to catch a glimpse of you before everyone attended, but when he entered, expecting to see you, you were nowhere to be found.
He nibbled on his bottom lip in worry, where were you? The moment he decided to text the others, and yourself, he finally sees your figure rush in through the door. Relief fills him, albeit only momentarily.
Jungkook inhales and freezes for a moment. If you paid any attention you’d see his doe eyes dilate, his leg thumping underneath the desk.
Why did you smell like that? He grips the armrests to the chair with his nails almost tearing the metal to shreds like he were a wolf hybrid not a bunny. Someone obviously had their hands all over you last night. Why else would you smell so good? The state of you now, slightly dishevelled and tired, small dark circles under your eyes, he bet you didn’t even have time to shower, the smell is so pungent he can barely think of anything else.
Fox Hybrid! Jin, Human! Namjoon, Human! Yoongi, Wolf Hybrid! Hoseok, Cat Hybrid! Jimin, Wolf Hybrid! Taehyung, Fox Hybrid! Jungkook
Genre: Hybrid AU || Fluff || Angst || Smut/ implied smut || Strangers to lovers AU || Best friends to lovers AU
Summary: All Jin can think to do is try and kiss it all better.
Word count: 7.6k
Tags/ warnings: blood is mentioned a lot, lots of crying, angst/ comfort (it’s more comfort), fluffy-ish, violence (but its deserved), the pain if finally over, hybrid mistreatment, me thinks that is all
Notes: second to last chapter lets gooooo. i also planned for like super soft smut in the next chapter, like a cute way to end the series but oh my god the cringe, jail time, will never see the light of day. so idk if there will be which im pissed about and i’m too scared to ask someone for help :’( and i’m shy but i’m open to suggestions! i’ve also been stressed because i have to write a graduation speech and my brain has fully stopped working so this chapter is a lil late and i’m a tiny bit unhappy with it because i feel like something is missing but my brain is fried.
Fitness is something Yoongi thought he’d never come across with - at least he hoped so. He’s used to his lean, more delicate body, even though his friends always tell him that he needs to build more muscle as a predator hybrid. Yoongi doesn’t think so, but one day, he finds himself at their local gym, accompanied by his friends, to his first training session ever. He’s sure he won’t be in there for too long, positive he won’t come back at all. Until he sees one of the fitness instructors just doing his job, looking like pure sin - and even though he seems to be a fellow predator hybrid, Yoongi is suddenly really interested in joining the gym.
Jungkook (24) is a black flemish giant bunny - his scent is similar to cherry blossoms. He’s tall with well defined muscles, even though he hides his body under loose clothes most of the time. He works at the gym, has several medals in different martial arts and is a professional yoga instructor. He’s ashamed of his hybrid species, so he hides it, because who would find out anyways? Jungkook doesn’t bother fighting with predators, though - if they’re rude, he’s not shying away from them. He’s got back tattoos and both sleeves done, as well as a hip tattoo and some traditional designs on his thigh. Nose and lip ring.
Hybrid features: droopy ears that he usually ties together with a hairband (obviously with a satin scrunchie so he doesn’t hurt his fur), soft tail, b u n n y t e e t h and nose scrunch, thumps his foot when he’s nervous or angry, teeth nibbling, he nibbles on his friends or different items.
Sneak peek: ‘Baby I’m preying on you tonight’ chapter two
Sorry it’s been awhile since the first chapter came out. Life has really been weighing on me lately but I’m little, hopefully I can get this next chapter out and also get 'fidp’ s second chapter out too in case I accidentally hiatus again.
I haven’t tagged anyone cause I wasn’t sure if people would want to be tagged in just a sneak peek.
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The sun is bright as it shines in through the gaps where the curtains meet. Jin lays under the covers creating a little bump in the bed, all cuddled up and cozy. That is until a soft sob breaks the silence in the room, followed by a whimpering. Jin frowns groggily, his eyes scrunching up as he buries deeper in the soft fabric trying to sink back into his blissful slumber. For a moment he succeeds until another pitiful hiccupping sob breaks the silence.
With a disgruntled groan Jin turns and sit up in bed, his eyes still scrunched up in annoyance. He yawns, stretching an arm in the air as the other comes up to rub his face aimlessly. There’s a quite gasp in the room which draws Jin’s attention, dropping his arms he blinks repeatedly trying to clear his blurry vision. Beside the bed, huddled up on the floor, pressed up against the wardrobe doors is a huddled humanoid shape. Wide (E/C) eyes stare at him from where their hands have pulled a light blue fleece blanket against the bareskin of their torso.
Jin is perplexed by the situation he’s awoken to that is until his eyes are drawn further up by a quick movement. Nestled in the girl’s (H/L)(H/C) hair are two long white familiar bunny ears which twitch with each noise the house makes while settling. He goes slack jawed at the sight of the girl all curled up and shaking. Shaking away his shock he carefully removes the blanket, offering the rabbit girl a warm and hopefully inviting smile as he holds a hand out to her.
“Hey there bun” He speaks gently. It seems impossible but the poor thing’s eyes widen even further, scrambling back bumping into the wardrobe behind her, a hand still clutching the blanket to her as she stumbles on her hand and knees around to hide at the bottom of the bed.
Jin let’s out a small sigh. He knew helping the bun was gonna be tough when he first met her, but he had honestly thought she was starting to get used to him atleast. They are both prey after all.
“I’m not going to harm you bun” He’s slow in his movements as he shuffles down the bed towards the bottom. He’d rather not repeat spooking the girl. Reaching the bottom he peers over the edge, face falling further as he spots a ball of white fur sticking out from an otherwise deflated sheet on the floor.
He huffs being careful as he removes the blanket from on top of the bun, her ears straightening up immediately. Turning around to look up at the stag on the bed it squeaks and for a moment Jin is worried he’s lost all of her trust. But light smell of iron reaching his nose has him gently picking the bunny up to look her over and just like that he’s calm again.
“You need to be careful bun, those injuries need. I’m going to have to re-apply new bandages and a splint to your leg.” The white rabbit settles in his arms, confusing him further. What was all the panic about earlier if she still felt comfortable in his arms? “I think you need a bath before that though” he says fiddling with some of the mud that has dried into her fur overnight. “And I need a shower before breakfast. Come on” with a soft smile back on his face he stands up, hoisting the rabbit hybrid a little higher so she can hook her paws over his shoulder.
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Hope you enjoyed this tid bit and as always my asks are always open for feedback and discussions on my stories. :)
SUMMARY: Yoongi, the only dragon hybrid to exist, has done a lot to escape the life he has been put into. He killed those who held him just to run away, to have the chance of living a life he’s been longing to have for years. Even after switching continents, they seem to be after him, hunting him. When he meets you, he knows you’re one of them and there’s only one way to survive - to kill you.
GENRE: smut angst action fluff-ish
WORD COUNT: 11k
WARNINGS: enemies to lovers, mentions of murder and blood, violence, Yoongi rides a motorbike, cursing, blowjobs, fingering, Yoongi has claws and fangs, temperature play, his cum tastes different, choking, fighting for dominance, unprotected sex, breeding kink, Yoongi is stubborn but soft, fox hybrid!taehyung and i’m so soft for him
AUTHOR’S NOTE: It is finally here, my part of The Hybrid Collab! I can’t even tell you how excited I am to post this after months of planning. I think everyone agrees with me that the thought of Dragon!Yoongi is too much to handle. I had this idea in my mind for as long as Daechwita has been around now-it just took me a while to write it sksks.
I’d also love to thank @spicykoreantatertots & @yeojaa for betaing this fic and helping me with it. @kimtaehyunq Mags, tysm for designing this beautiful banner for me! Also; thanks for listening to my rambling and keeping up with me and this fic. It was so much fun cooperating your Taehyung into it, I love him. :(
