Chapter Text
“Are you sure its okay for me to be coming?”
There’s nerves evident in your tone, but even still you can’t help but recognise the contrary ball of excitement beginning to unravel in your stomach. You know this feeling, these butterflies are familiar, but you haven’t felt them in a long time—you’re not sure why you’re feeling them now, when you’re just going to meet friends of your friends.
“Of course it is!” Taehyung skips closer to you so that he can swing his arm around your shoulders, almost knocking you flat on your face from the force of it if it weren’t for the grip his hand has on your arm. “I know I kind of intimidated you with all that talk of it being a monthly wolf thing, but to be honest a bunch of supernaturals tend to rock up—for the alcohol and the entertainment, presumably.”
“Hell, last time we held it at the beach there were even some sirens that came out to mingle.” Jimin sidles up next to you, grinning brightly—something about the incriminating twinkle in his eyes told you that he was one of the ones being mingled with. “You don’t have to worry.”
“Uh, sirens are a pretty big step away from humans so,” you scuff your feet and pretend you don’t nearly trip from the action. “I think I do.”
“Nonsense!” Taehyung booms, embarrassingly loud as his voice echoes down the street. You’ve never been more thankful that it was night and people weren’t out and about to stare—then again, it’s probably a bit more of a commotion to be occurring at night. “Humans are welcome and come all the time! Well, a few of them. Anyway, we already told the pack that you’re coming so they’re expecting you and if you chicken out it will be humiliating for all three of us.”
You gasp at him, appalled at how he was abusing your overactive empathy by saying you’ll embarrass them by being a no-show. You can’t let him know he got you, though. “I’m not chickening out! I never said I wouldn’t go!”
Taehyung only responds with a snicker, and you resist the urge to yank a lock of his blond hair like a child. The further down the road you get while bickering, the more the bundle of nerves and anticipation inside you grows; you’re not sure what to do with it, the sensation broaching on unfamiliar. You elect to ignore it and simply hope it will take the hint and go away.
“Yeah sure, whatever you say…” Jimin’s response grinds your gears further and you can’t help but wonder exactly how you ended up becoming such good friends with these two when they’re both so annoying. Perhaps it’s because like attracts like, not that you’re ever going to admit that out loud for them to hear.
You grumble indiscernibly, both males hearing it easily with their sharper hearing. At once, they protest to the words that left you, and the three of you are thrown into another of the hallmark arguments that seem to provide the scaffold of your relationship. You bicker as you walk, the night breeze cool and damp from the shower that had danced over the city barely an hour ago. As you reach further down the street, the houses becoming more and more sparsely situated, the familiar thrum of bass begins to shake your chest and your ears begin to pick up on music carried by the breeze.
You’re only just hearing it now, but you don’t doubt Taehyung and Jimin heard it much earlier and it is the source of the sudden energy renewal that hit them a few minutes ago. With each step you take your stomach trembles and tightens, the sensations completely bizarre at this point. You’ve never been this nervous before—are you nervous? Is that what it is? You shouldn’t be, you have no reason to be and you never usually are in situations like this. You have no idea what to do with yourself.
It’s as the three of you finally approach your destination— a pack dorm styled in a modern townhouse fashion, grey cement outside reflecting the strong, silver glow of the waxing moon, nearly full, so strongly it’s almost like a beacon before your eyes— that your two friends finally stop, just at the gate that marks the beginning of the property. The music comes from somewhere within, a heavy trap beat at the current moment. You can see figures in the windows, very suddenly recalling how many new people are going to be here—new creatures.
“Your heartbeat is a bit uneven,” Taehyung observes, and instantly you flush in embarrassment that they’ve both noticed and are acutely aware that you are, in fact, nervous. You can’t even offer an explanation or defence because you don’t even know why! “You don’t need to be nervous, but since you are…”
“Don’t worry!” Jimin chimes, looping an arm through yours. The button on the sleeve of his blue leather jacket almost catches on your shirt and he ignores your resulting glare. “We’ll be with you! You have nothing to worry about, you’ll be safe here, and in the incredibly unlikely event that something does happen, we’ll protect you, our favourite squishy human friend.”
He finishes off his heartwarming sentiment by squishing your cheeks, pulling at the fat there like an auntie. Whining, you immediately smack his hand away and shrug out of Taehyung’s arm.
“I don’t need you!” You declare, already stomping up the path and feeling the way the booming music moves through your chest. You know it’s going to be much, much louder on the other side of the door. “Screw both of you! I’m a strong, independent woman, and I’m gonna go in there and I’m gonna get a strong drink and—and – I won’t need your help! You’ll see!”
… …. …. . .. …. … .. .. . . . . .
You’d needed their help the second you got inside.
You’re in the kitchen now, sipping on a very strongly spiked glass of juice, reflecting on the embarrassment of the past few minutes.
First of all, there was a group of feline shifters in the foyer that happened to be having a particularly heated catfight the second you walked inside. If someone hadn’t drunkenly stumbled into you and conveniently knocked you out of the path of one of the shifter’s claws, then it might have been you on the receiving end of a nasty gash on the face instead. You’d felt bad that some drunk stranger had taken the fall for you for about a split second, before they healed within the next few moments and let out a growl before unceremoniously throwing themselves in to join the fight. Right, you forgot for a second that you were surrounded by supernaturals.
Of course, Jimin and Taehyung witnessed the entire affair and snickered at you from the side. No help had come from them, contrary to what they’d announced outside about being your protectors for the night, so you’d let out a huff and turned on your heel to continue in search of drink. You realised very quickly you’d need it if you were going to survive this night with minimal trauma.
This is your first time in their packhouse, so naturally you have no idea where you are or where you’re going. Like the terrible friends they are, Taehyung and Jimin just let you walk around boldly, acting like you know where you’re going. Apparently it was very funny. You’d be inclined to agree with them, if it weren’t for the fact that your wandering led you to stumbling across not just one, or two, or even three heated moments, but five in total. This is the opposite of what you had wanted and you grew so flustered after the fifth time discovering a bunch of supernaturals in a borderline orgy (all of them had at least one nymph in them, you noticed wryly) that the two finally took pity on you and dragged you the right way to the kitchen, still laughing all the while. Yes, hilarious. You’re going to have to work for years to unpack all you’d just seen.
You’d only arrived in the kitchen just over a minute ago, long enough that you were able to finally get a drink, but even that entrance had been met with embarrassment. You stand in mortification now, taking a large sip of your drink as you continue to feel eyes boring into you from the side.
“This is y/n, Yoongi. She’s the one we always tell you about! You know, the one who we met because we sat behind her and caught her streaming Ouran Host Club in our Art History lecture.”
At every incriminating word that leaves Taehyung’s big mouth, you feel humiliation crawling further up your spine and colouring your face even more. You can’t even bring yourself to look at Yoongi, the pack member you’d been introduced to quite unceremoniously just a few minutes ago, but you can still— still— feel his eyes boring into you. It’s only as he snorts that you manage to risk a glance his way, shoulders tense with discomfort.
The second you lay eyes on him, you very suddenly recall the very recent humiliating event that just occurred and instantly wish to die.
(The kitchen, your main destination, is the source of the drinks for tonight, and hence your two friends drag you there. Taehyung announces he knows just what to get you, and makes a show of mixing a secret drink. You know exactly what he’s going to give you and yet find yourself hoping he won’t.
Of course, you have no such luck.
“Taehyung, don’t you give me anything malty.” You warn, pointing your finger at him. The smile that touches his lips is borderline cherubic as he holds out a cup, the smell of that damn alcohol and coke breaching your nostrils.
“Drink it.”
“Taehyung,” you warn again, taking a step back. “Don’t you dare. You know I can’t drink it.”
“How do you even know what it is? I made it in secret!” He argues, advancing a step and making you retreat one in turn. He might have the face of an angel but you swear there’s horns sticking out from his wavy hair.
“Do you think I’m stupid? Huh?” You raise your hand, threatening to push the cup away if he brings it any closer. “You always try to give me whisky, or beer—you know ever since that time it makes me want to vomit—”
Long story short, Taehyung attempts to feed you the cursed drink, and in your struggle to get away you end up smacking it out of his hands.
Of course, right in the line of fire happens to be someone approaching the three of you, mouth open to say something. The drink ends up all down their shirt and that is the very first time you unknowingly receive the infamous Min Yoongi Glare.
Which you realise moments later when Taehyung laughs and introduces him as one of the members of the pack. Is it too late to leave?)
You drink might have gone on Yoongi’s shirt and rendered it gross, but without even a blink he’d just taken the t-shirt off and revealed a pristine long-sleeved shirt underneath. You’d have been impressed if you weren’t so mortified at the time.
He doesn’t seem to be holding it against you, but you can’t really help the way you’re acting. There’s something about him, an air that seems to reach and raise the hairs at the back of your neck. He’s intimidating, even if he does look like a cat when he smiles at Taehyung being a dumbass. His energy says ‘I could snap you in half over my knee if I so wanted’, but his face says ‘All I want is a cookie and warm milk’. It gives you a bit of whiplash.
“There’s less people here than I thought there would be,” Jimin comments after Taehyung finishes embarrassing you. Yoongi hums, downing a generous shot of straight vodka and then smacking his lips. Maybe you’re right to be scared.
“Nah, it’s the same as usual, it’s just that they’re all outside.” Yoongi leans against the bench with his hip, scratching behind his ear. You refuse to acknowledge the thought you have that likens him to a dog using their back leg to scratch. No, that’s gonna get you beat up and evicted from the party. Best to ignore that one.
“What are they doing? It’s kind of cold for the pool.” Taehyung tilts his head.
Yoongi blinks at him, seeming amused. “They’re watching the usual event that goes down at these things. We’ve amassed quite the crowd for it tonight. Must be all the ones that Shownu’s pack invited.”
His words are vague, but both boys beside you light up, apparently much more clued in than you.
“Oh, yes! I love it when this happens! Plus, it’s been a while since I last joined in… I might have to tonight. You wanna be my partner, Jiminie?”
Jimin snorts, already pushing off from the bench and grabbing your arm to begin dragging you. Yoongi watches them for a moment before growing bored and turning back around, reaching for the bottle of Smirnoff.
“No thanks, I nearly wiped myself out last time, remember? Just ask Kookie. You know he’ll be up for it the second you challenge him.”
Taehyung hums, joining his friend in dragging you in the direction of two glass sliding doors. You’re so confused, and kind of scared. They won’t listen to you asking them where the hell you’re going, though. Head empty, ears turned off.
Before you know it, you’re stepping out of the house and into the ‘yard’, for lack of better word. Your drink is still in your hand and you’re trying desperately not to spill it as your friends grow more careless in their movements. Sometimes, you think they forget they’re werewolves with werewolf strength.
Outside is illuminated by strong lights attached to the back of the building, a pool set to the side and a vast, clear field directly centre before you. There are a few groups of people just milling about, minding their own business and having their own fun—in multiple senses of the word, you note as you tear your eyes away from a couple in the corner with flaming cheeks. Will your mind have no choice but to leave this party tainted? The rest of the people, what you would argue is a large chunk of the attending partygoers, are cheering and hollering towards the edge of the clearing. Jimin and Taehyung seem unbelievably excited at this fact, and are quick to drag you over.
Very quickly are you enlightened as to what is happening, and you’re equal parts incredulous, impressed, and baffled.
Put bluntly—they’re having werewolf races.
Teens and young adults around you holler and cheer, a large portion of the amassed crowd hooting as two wolves tear across the grass, going so fast you almost fall over from the shock of it. You had no idea anything in this world could move that fast! Well, that’s a lie, you knew about it. Still, seeing it is different!
Both wolves are massive, one coloured rosy gold and the other dark, speckled grey. They’re about the same size, you manage to observe despite the blur of their movements, but the grey one is just a bit bigger, and leaner, while its companion is stockier. Oddly, despite the fact you’ve been here all of thirty seconds, you find yourself becoming entranced as you watch with bated breath to see who will be the winner of this race. What can you say, you’ve always been a sucker for a competition.
The finish line is marked by two bins on the far right side of the clearing, and as the two wolves grow closer the smaller one seems to gain more ground. The crowd goes off in anticipation. You really think that it might be the one to win, until the grey wolf lets out a short yowl that sounds suspiciously like a laugh, and then proceeds to launch itself forward and to the side, just barely feet from the bins. It goes right in front of the gold wolf, of course, and with an irate bark and a short growl the two of them go down in a tangle of limbs, the race devolving into an abridged form of wolf wrestling. When they cross the finish line it’s as one unit, and you can hear the disappointment in the crowd behind you.
“HAH Yugyeom is always such a dirty cheat, I don’t know why Jackson never remembers and always agrees to race him.” Taehyung is cackling beside you, Jimin joining his amusement, while you watch the two wolves tumble and roll in a blur until they separate and instead of two hulking wolves, it’s two shirtless males falling back on the damp grass, their pants looking like they’d seen better days.
“Woah,” you can’t help but remark, eyes wide. You’ve heard a lot about wolf transformations, but you didn’t realise it was so quick.
Almost as though he can read your mind, Jimin shoots you an amused smile. “The closer it is to a full moon, the easier it is to transform. It’s a lot harder, longer, sometimes more painful when it’s a new or waning moon.”
You wince, but Taehyung’s optimistic chime clears the expression from your face. “Yeah, we’re so close to the full moon right now that we can change in just a few seconds. It’s much smoother, and less stressful on the body. Which is good, since the nearer we are to a full moon the more our wolf itches to get out.”
“A lot of little details go into your lives huh,” you comment, marvelling at all the things you’re learning even now, almost half a year into knowing them.
“Yup,” Taehyung answers, though he’s remarkably distracted as he does so. He seems to be searching the crowd behind you for someone, and you find out exactly who in the next moment. “Ah, there he is— Namjoon!”
You turn in the direction Taehyung waved, catching sight of a tall male with an ashy, silver-hued undercut standing a good few metres away, pink drink to his mouth. He nearly spills it when his name is called, though, and you quickly connect the stories you’ve heard of him and his clumsiness with his face. Ah, at last, the man, the myth, the legend himself – the resident Wolf God of Destruction.
Clearly a little bit drunk, if the way he wobbles as he turns to face you, long limbs like jelly, is anything to go by, Namjoon waves enthusiastically.
“I thought I smelt you,” he says, and it takes a moment for you to remember that’s something normal for them. “What took you guysh so long?”
He’s much less intimidating than Yoongi, you observe, but at the same time there’s a different sort of undercurrent that surrounds him. He’s intimidating in a different way, a way that you can’t quite name or put your finger on—despite the fact you think you just saw him spill a bit of his drink on his white t-shirt. Your suspicions are confirmed when you see a splotch of pink bloom in the fabric moments later.
“We were dragging this one out,” Taehyung happily responds, slapping you on the back. You narrow your eyes at him; oh, you’ll remember his eagerness to humiliate you.
Namjoon, you’re pretty sure, hadn’t even realised you were there until Taehyung just pointed you out. “Oh, hello!”
“Joon, this is y/n, the friend we always tell you about, the one we said we were bringing tonight,” Jimin introduces, prompting you to do an awkward little wave. He then gestures to the tall male currently beaming at you with dimples on display. “y/n, this is Namjoon, our leader and one of the alphas of the pack.”
“It’s nice to meet you!” you greet, smiling brightly and allowing yourself to slip comfortably into your more extroverted persona. “Thank you for letting me come tonight!”
Namjoon seems somewhat flustered at your words. “Nice to meet you too, and it’s no problem—you’re welcome to come, you know, these things aren’t anything exclusive. Um, it’s kind of just whoever… yeah.”
Taehyung snorts, apparently finding the partway inebriation of his leader very funny. “Great, now she’s met almost everybody. Where’s the rest?”
“Hope’s inside, probably practicing the karma sutra with some poor soul,” Namjoon answers, swaying as he sculls the rest of his drink. It takes all of your willpower not to sputter and guffaw at his words. He then jerks his thumb behind him. “As for dumb and dumber—they’re over there. They’ve been bickering about who’s faster for the past ten minutes, so they’re probably going to race soon.”
“Again?!” Taehyung groans, and you’re only left wondering why for a moment before he continues and answers the silent question in your head. “I have hardly anything left in my wallet from last time, why are they going again?”
Jimin snorts. “It’s your own fault for betting on the wrong party. You know it’s actually kind of impressive how you manage to choose the one that loses every time. Maybe you’re a bad luck charm.”
Insulted beyond belief, Taehyung gapes at his friend and packmate, looking to Namjoon every few seconds like a child looking to their parent and waiting for them to step in and scold their sibling. Namjoon isn’t going to be any help anytime soon, however, as you turn your gaze and catch him staring with a frown into the bottom of his cup with unwavering focus, like he was trying to figure out where his drink went. Apparently, this wasn’t his first one of the night.
Before Taehyung and Jimin can continue bickering any more, there is a commotion behind Namjoon that catches your collective attention. There’s movement in the crowd, people shuffling and shouting, some laughing and cheering, before two figures break out. One of them is in a headlock but quickly wriggles his way out, bolting your way—the other is hot on his heels.
“You’ll never catch me, old man!” It doesn’t take you long to figure out that the one in front has no apparent fear of god or man. “You’re as slow as ever! I’m gonna run laps around you again, just you watch!”
“YAH! If I’m so old then where’s the respect, huh?! I’m five years older than you, that’s five years I’ve spent running more—”
You knew they were heading in your general direction, but you didn’t realise that they were quite literally heading straight for you, and by no means looking where they’re going. They move so fast that not even Taehyung or Jimin, let alone yourself, can warn them or move out of the way. All you know is that one second you’re standing there nursing your drink and preparing to take a sip, and the next you’ve been bowled to the ground, dampness seeping into your back and front.
(Faintly, you realise your drink has ended up all over your front, and you think you can hear Karma laughing in the distance.)
Blinking, for a moment you worry you’ve been concussed before your vision clears and you’re made aware of a very heavy weight atop of you. Somewhat delayed, a small noise of pain escapes you and it seems to be what kicks the person atop of you into gear.
“Oh!” They’re scrambling off of you instantly, still kneeling on the ground but no longer atop of you as you bring yourself to lean on your elbows with a groan. “Oh, I- I a-am so sorry, I w—”
You expect the apologies to continue when they cut off abruptly, and when the silence stretches on another moment you look up in confusion. You feel your stomach flip at the sight of the boy that had knocked you over, boyish features frozen in a look that you have no idea how to interpret except for complete and utter surprise. He’s cute, you observe with only the slightest amount of shame, even when he looks like a deer caught in headlights. The dark curls atop his head and the dark cocoa of his eyes do him justice—wait, you could have sworn they were dark brown, but as you look at him you swear you see the outside begin to tinge gold.
“Uh, it’s okay—” the words are more automatic than anything, and an attempt to fill the space left by the boy who is still sitting frozen and staring at you. You don’t even get to finish though, cut off by the voice of the person who had been chasing this boy that knocked you over like a pin in a bowling lane.
“Jungkook, you little brat! Look what you did, you went and knocked some poor girl over! You even spilt her drink on her shirt—what are you doing, get off her already you bratty pup—”
Arms slip under the boy and almost haul him away, but froze in their motions. Your eyes fly to the face of the person they belong to, and you feel your stomach flip once more, nerves and heartbeat off the charts. He’s older-looking, less boyish in the face than the boy that ran you over, but even so he’s probably one of the most strikingly attractive people you’ve ever seen; and he’s frozen, staring at you with that exact same caught-in-headlights look as the boy in his arms. You feel a wash of heat flow along your back and crawl up your neck at the attention. Suddenly, your insecurities return from earlier. God, you knew it, you shouldn’t have come—it’s because you’re human, isn’t it? They can clearly tell, and—
“y/n!”
It seems that Taehyung and Jimin’s friend instincts have finally kicked in after a prolonged amount of time wherein you were left on the ground, and they both grasp an arm to haul you up onto your feet. The change in angle makes you acutely aware of the drink drenching your front and sliding down your skin. Oh, god, that’s going to be so sticky later.
“Are you—” Jimin barely gets to finish asking if you’re okay before a sound you’ve never heard so close before splits the air and instantly raises the hair on the back of your neck, your entire body stiffening.
Growling, low and so strong it resonates through your chest. Your eyes whip to the source, surprise washing over you to see that its those same two boys, eyes no longer dark as you’d just seen but flaring a peculiar gold that whirls like liquid. Instantly, you’re aware of how the air and crowd around you has suddenly stilled, all attention on your little group. The growls continue until Jimin and Taehyung’s hands leave your arms, and then their attention is on each other.
If you thought the first sounds let out were terrifying, then the snarls that were let loose at each other were downright bloodcurdling. You have no idea what has caused the sudden animosity between them, since they seem to be packmates, but for a moment you think they might be about to fight for real. The tension in the air makes it hard to breathe as the sounds grow louder, boys leaning away from each other and their forms beginning to tremble. Just as you think they’re about to shift, a stern voice cuts through the air.
“Stop.”
Instantly the snarling and growling ceases, the two boys stilling completely. The tension is cut as something else washes over the field.
It’s Namjoon who spoke, and the command in his tone makes your stomach clench and shoulders pinch in tension. He seems to be momentarily sober enough to reprimand the two, incredulous eyes going between each of them.
“Are the two of you seriously growling and snarling at each other like pups right now? Are you kidding me?” He sounds almost like an exasperated father as he snaps at the two, gaze whipping to Taehyung and Jimin to deliver a nod over his shoulder, before he continues his scolding. “Both of you are fast! My gods, do you have to fight about this every time we have a celebration? Honestly. Both of you go inside and cool down before I tell Yoongi and he beats your asses. I’m drunk, I shouldn’t have to even—”
Regrettably, you don’t get to hear the rest of the reprimanding. Taehyung and Jimin step in front of you, nudging and pushing you back before you realise they’re herding you away and you look to them in confusion.
“Jungkookie and Jinnie are about to get in a lot of trouble, and there probably won’t be much fun and games after that, so we may as well go,” Taehyung says with a shrug, nonchalant as ever. There’s something different in his expression though, the barest hint of confusion; apparently his two other packmates don’t fight to that extent very often.
“But—but I’m not even drunk! I didn’t even get to finish my second drink!” you protest, eyes going to your shirt which now displays the fate of your poor, unfortunate drink.
“That’s fine, you have vodka at your house right?” Jimin asks, continuing to urge you. “We’ll just get shitfaced there. Dibs on the couch for sleeping tonight.”
At the unexpected and cruel twist of fate that has left him allocated to sleeping on the floor of your unit, Taehyung lets out a whine. You leave the property at their urging, but can’t help but feel a certain two pairs of eyes boring into your back the entire way out.