sage

"Are you wiping it off first?" he grins, watching your face as you put the list down and step away to rummage through one of the cabinets.

Fighting a smile, you roll your eyes at him over your shoulder as you grab a thermometer from the container of brand-new ones and rip it from its plastic.

You wave it in the air as if a thermometer that hasn't measured the inner temps of a hundred dog butts is a luxury reserved for the few. "Unused. Just for you."

Chuckling, he watches you approach, opening his mouth obediently to let you place the metal tip on his tongue, his lips closing around it.

"Keep it under the tongue. It takes a few seconds."

While you wait, you lift your hand, tentatively resting the back of it against his forehead just to feel again. His dark eyes are on you every second, but you try to focus anyway. Estimating a temperature by touch is hard, but he's definitely warmer. A fever this high often makes a human's skin feel clammy, but Jeongguk doesn't look ill, and his skin feels normal to the touch. Just warm.

A moment later, the thermometer beeps and you retrieve it carefully from his mouth. Jeongguk keeps his warm gaze on your face, more interested in your reaction than the actual result. And there's definitely a reaction. The moment you read the numbers off the small screen, your eyebrows shoot up, and you blink in disbelief.

"I'm… gonna try another one," you mumble, tossing the probably faulty thermometer in the trash and heading to the cabinet to grab a replacement.

"What did it show?"

"42 degrees Celsius."

He looks at you with a small, knowing smile.

"You knew?"

"I think I'm usually around 41.8 to 42. But it's been a few decades since I last tested. I think the last thermometer showed 107.7."

"Fahrenheit, I take it?"

He nods.

"At least it's consistent then. Would you mind…?" You hold up the new one.

This time, he reaches out to take the offered device from your hand. "You don't believe me?" he asks, but the amused smile playing on his lips tells you he isn't actually offended.

You shake your head, watching him casually slide it between his lips. The way he shifts it into place, hands-free, under his tongue is insanely attractive, highlighting both his sharp jaw and sculpted cheekbones.

"I want to believe you, but… everything I know says that this is impossible. A human, showing 42 degrees would… would be dead." You shake your head in disbelief. "Or at least hanging on by a thin damn thread."

Two seconds later, the thermometer beeps. He plucks it from his mouth, glances at the number, and hands it to you. Like the last time, you stare at the result, trying to make sense of it. 41.9.

"And I take it you didn't drink anything hot right before knocking on that door?"

"You mean like coffee?"

You nod, waiting for the answer that explains his abnormal temp.

"I don't drink coffee. All I've had today is blood, heated to 37 degrees. And that was…" he trails off, lifting his eyes to look at the clock. "Four hours ago."

You study him and his slightly lopsided smile for a few seconds, thinking deeply. Then, unceremoniously, you shove the thermometer under your own tongue. He watches you, still amused and maybe surprised, while you hold the end of it, waiting for the beep.

It comes, interrupting the silence, and you pull the thermometer out.

"36.5," you state. "It checks out; I'm usually a little on the colder side. But if you really are 42 degrees, I should've noticed. In that bathroom, when you put your hand over my mouth, why didn't I notice?"

He shrugs, thinking back to that night. "I… held the cold, metal railing while we were outside? My hands were probably chillier than usual."

Quietly, you revisit the memory too. And yeah, you remember him standing next to you, large hands gripping that iron bar as you spoke. It was cold, and it's a scientifically plausible explanation.

"But if you're… If you're really 42 degrees…" You trail off, trying to process exactly what a body temperature that high would entail. "Do you mind if I listen to your heart? And lungs?"

"Be my guest."

Returning to the table where all your stuff has accumulated, you scan the area.

"Stethoscope?"

"Huh?" you glance back at him.

He nods toward your neck. "If you're looking for the stethoscope."

"Oh." Your hand flies up, fingers brushing the rubber tubing of said stethoscope.

Jeongguk smiles. Surely, he knows exactly that he's the reason you're slightly off your game. All day practically every day, the stethoscope hangs around your neck, yet his mere presence has you forgetting.

Cheeks burning, you put the earpieces in place.

"I'll have to go under the shirt," you inform, looking at him for permission.

He nods, and you step closer, trying to decide where to go in from. The neckline of his t-shirt is rather high, and doesn't look to be very stretchy. With no better option, you grip the hem, lifting it to just underneath his chest.

Even as he's seated—his golden skin creating two truly tiny skin rolls on his stomach—there's an outline of abs.

"This might feel cold."

"It's okay."

Beginning to notice a pattern, you're very aware of his quiet gaze on your face, all until you actually put the chestpiece against the left side of his chest, and your focus changes.

Popping one of the earpieces out, you look at his face with wide eyes. "You're bradycardic?"

"If that means my heart is beating slowly, yes."

"Yeah. A temperature like yours indicates a very high metabolic rate, which in turn means a huge requirement for oxygen. It would make more sense for your heart to beat faster just to keep the tissues from starving."

He only hums in return, a low sound that vibrates up the stethoscope and into the one ear still connected.

"Yet your heart is beating slowly, even for a human. You don't happen to know how big it is?"

You don't realize what you asked him until he smiles at you, his eyebrows raised.

Cheeks burning once more, you resist the urge to slap his shoulder. "Your heart."

"I think it's relatively normal-sized" he says, and you can tell by his cheeky smile and the glint in his eyes that he hasn't quite let go of the accidental innuendo yet.

"You're just a guy, aren't you?" you mutter, rolling your eyes yet fighting a smile as you put the earpiece back in. Good to know that men are men, no matter human or vampire. "I'm gonna listen some more."

He chuckles, the sound rumbling in his chest, and you close your eyes in order to focus on something else than his pretty face and the happy grin.

Although the sound is slightly… muffled, Jeongguk's heartbeat still sounds strong. It's slow, almost heavy, but not like it's struggling at all. In a way, his heart is almost soothing to listen to. With a soft hand, you move the chestpiece around, listening to his heart from different angles. Besides the low frequency of its beats, it sounds normal.

"Lift your arm slightly for me?" you mumble, moving your hand and the chestpiece around to his side when he does, satisfied to find the sound clearer there.

You flutter your eyes open to look at the wall-mounted clock, counting every heartbeat.

The seconds pass in silence. Everything is so quiet, except for the rhythmic thumping of Jeongguk's heart in your ears. Count for 30 seconds, then double it.

36.

You count again, letting another 30 seconds pass. He doesn't move, and neither do you.

"Your heart beats 36 beats a minute," you inform him, meeting his gaze and stepping back, his shirt falling back down.

Jeongguk doesn't say anything, he just watches you with those dark eyes and a soft and curious, yet calm, look. To listen to his lungs, you circle the table, carefully lifting his shirt again, from the back this time, and sliding your hand and the stethoscope's chestpiece up the wide expanse of his back. It's like you can feel the heat radiating off him.

You close your eyes again, tuning out the room. "Take a deep breath for me?"

He complies, and the sound of air rushing in is deep, clear, and seemingly bottomless.

"Again, please. Until I say."

While he continues to breathe slowly and deeply, you slide the chestpiece around, listening to all parts of his left lung. Then, you move it across his spine, examining the right lung as well before you step back, letting his shirt fall back down. Even though you didn't touch him skin-to-skin, merely stepping away from his body makes you feel… colder.

"Okay, thank you. You have good lungs," you conclude, walking back around the table to face him. "They don't quite sound… supernatural; just like you have great capacity."

You return the stethoscope to its default position around your neck, locating the notes on the table with your mind reeling. You then stare at his chest, watching the slow and rhythmic rise and fall as you try to form your thoughts into coherent words.

"Since your heart and lungs sound… relatively normal—and by that I mean your heart isn't beating as quickly as a hummingbird's to deliver enough oxygen, and you don't have air sacs providing a far more… continuous stream of oxygen—the magic must be in your blood."

Subconsciously, you tap your pen to the paper in a rhythm similar to that of his heart, your mouth pressed into a thin line as you think.

"But the thing is that… the temperature is also a symptom of an extreme metabolism, but also what would destroy the blood needed to power that metabolism. Hemoglobin and enzymes and all that are all proteins, and proteins are essentially cooked at the temperature you are."

"Human blood."

You meet his eyes. "Yeah, human blood and human proteins would be cooked. Which means… You probably have… different structured proteins or something."

You rub your temple, mind in overdrive. "There are beings around your temp. Birds, specifically volant birds—meaning those that fly—are hotter than mammals, some of them reaching up to 43 degrees, and they have a lot of these… Heat Shock Proteins that protect their proteins from the heat."

You think hard, wondering why a vampire would share features with birds. "Maybe you rely on those as well? Or maybe you just run on… Mountain Dew or something."

Jeongguk chuckles at your slightly desperate joke.

"Sounds cool," he says, tilting his head in an incredibly attractive manner. "The bird proteins, I mean. Why are birds warmer?"

"Flying requires an almost absurd amount of energy and therefor a higher metabolism, and a higher metabolism generates heat. Could I look at your eyes for a bit?" you ask, fighting to keep your nerdiness somewhat at bay.

"Sure." He waits while you fish a penlight from the breast pocket of your scrubs. "What is it that you're hoping to see? Or… not to see?"

"I honestly have no idea." You reach up to turn the overhead light off since you'll need a more controlled light. "You could tell me you either have the vision of a hawk or that your sense of smell is so developed and your vision so useless that you're legally blind."

He grins. "Like a T-Rex?"

"I think that was confirmed to be a myth, actually. Supposedly, T-Rex had very good vision."

He blinks, then laughs softly. "Sorry, seems my dino knowledge isn't up to date."

"No worries, I'm probably too up to date, but then again, animals are sort of my interest." You smile sheepishly, moving on. "Would you say that you see well?"

"Yeah. I think I saw pretty well as a human too, but I honestly can't really remember. I definitely see better now, though."

You nod, pressing a button that lowers the table he's sitting on two notches just to get a better angle.

"That's interesting. In that case, I'd say it makes sense that you see well. Again, birds—coincidentally also dino-descendants—are well-known to have sharp vision. Hawks and eagles specifically have the most advanced eye-sight out of any vertebrae."

"Is there a specific reason?" he asks, gaze tracking the penlight as you bring it to his face.

"Well, they hunt small animals from usually high in the sky—"

But the moment you click the penlight on and shine it at his left eye, the pupil shrinks. A lot.

You stumble back.

"Sorry," you mumble. "That surprised me."

"My pupil?" he wonders softly.

"Yeah, I didn't expect it to constrict that much. Because they're not always that small, right? Your eyes are so dark that I—" you stop, a realization hitting you.

You wouldn't have noticed. He could've walked around with pupils the size of pin pricks, and you would've been none the wiser.

"They're not, no. But I guess it could be a reason there are practically only dark-eyed vampires."

Still a little shaken, you bite your lip, watching him. Without the bright light pointed directly at his eyes, they look human. Very, very dark, but human.

"Deliberate camouflage?"

"Yeah. Our eyes can clearly be jarring."

Clearly.

"Possibly," you mumble. "Tell me, do you see well in the dark, too?"

"I'd say so. I can't remember the last time a place was too dark for me to see anything in."

You nod, your gaze drifting off as you consider the meaning. "Maybe there are multiple reasons? Brighter eyes let more light through, but eyes capable of good night vision are usually more light sensitive. Darker eyes with more melanin block some of that light."

A thought hits you, and you back away from him. "I wonder…"

At the door, you reach your hand out, flicking the light off. In an instant, you're swallowed by darkness, and for the first few seconds, you don't see anything at all. Then, gradually, your vision returns as your eyes do their best to adjust. The small amount of light in the room comes from a window further in, behind Jeongguk. It's of course dark outside as well, but there's a tiny bit of moonlight that leaks inside, and it clings to his dark, motionless silhouette.

Jeongguk sits there. He doesn't do anything in particular that warrants your reaction, but his unmoving shape, watching you, makes goosebumps line your arms and a chill run down your spine. It feels like when you're waking up in the middle of the night, for a second frozen with fear and wholly convinced that the dark mass of clothes on a chair is a man, watching you.

It does not get better when you raise the penlight, holding it next to your face and clicking it on to aim for his eyes. They shine back. Two big, round, bright reflections, like walking in the woods late at night and accidentally shining your light on a silent, unmoving creature, nothing but their eyes reflecting.

You think that's when it actually hits you. Swiftly, you flick the switch back on, relieved when light floods the room. Jeongguk hasn't moved; still watching you like he has the entire night, but the growing discomfort in your stomach is hard to shake.

"You have tapetum lucidum," you state, finding the note to write the findings down. The letters are a little more squiggly than those from fifteen minutes ago. "And your pupils definitely expand."

"Tapetum…?" he echoes. "That's the reflections?"

"Yeah. Present in species that need to see well in the dark."

You keep your gaze locked onto the paper, trying to calm your heart. Faking the teeth, the temperature, and the heart rate would've been hard, but this…? The man sitting on the exam table behind you is not human.

Not human.

Not only that. While present in both prey and predators, Jeongguk's tapetum are not the wide band of prey animals worried about getting eaten, but the circular shape that helps predators track their target in the dark. Just like some sort of shape shifter, he's taken on the look of his prey, both to blend in and to deceive. The name skin-walker flashes in your mind.

"I'm not a threat to you."

His low and soft voice gathers your attention. Of course, he realized. He has his head slightly tilted, looking at you when you lift your gaze from the paper.

"Yeah," you manage to say, forcing your voice steady. "It's just very weird to see all of this, realizing that I am your intended prey. All of these physiological feats just to kill me."

"You're scared."

"I wouldn't say scared, maybe more… nervous."

You don't hold eye contact, instead diving back into your notes even just to collect yourself. Is it a lie to say that you're more nervous than scared? Who knows.

"I'm sorry for what I did at the bar, but you don't have to be afraid of me. I promise."

You bite your lip, weighing the pros and cons. Risk vs reward. You've already established (to yourself) that he probably hasn't had the intention to kill you because if so then he would've already, but things can change. And that's regarding intention; you're sure… accidents happen.

"It's up to you of course," he adds softly, moving his hands over his thighs as he shifts on the table. "But if there's anything else you'd like to see, I'm all yours."

I'm all yours.

You look at him, your gaze traveling down his body in a purely (or at least mostly) curious and clinical way. His neck, his wide shoulders and chest, his muscular arms and legs. You shut your eyes for a brief moment, trying to deny how his subtle submission has yet another little spark igniting. Sure, you might be nervous, but what is the alternative? Send him away?

'You're the most interesting being I have ever and will ever see, but I'm a bit of a wimp even though you've only really been nice, so I'm gonna have to ask you to leave. Bye!'

Yeah, right.

"Am I the dumbest human you've ever met, or what?" you ask, awkwardly approaching him again. "With the self-preservation sense of something like… a leaf. But… Could I look at your lymph nodes?"

"Out of the relatively few humans I've gotten to know over the years, you're by far the smartest," he answers easily, making your heart flutter. "But yeah, you can. Where?"

You stifle a sheepish smile. "Are you trying to butter me up? Your neck."

He chuckles, shifting on the table to give you more access. While you wouldn't have considered it necessary, he also happens to spread his thick thighs, giving you room to stand between them. If you'd like.

Although you could reach his neck without it, you do decide to take that additional step, putting you between his legs but without touching them. Slowly, you then lift your hands, carefully placing them on either side of his neck.

He's so warm, and it radiates through your entire body and melts you in more ways than one. With one hand on each side, you move your fingers gently, feeling for the lymph nodes under his jaw.

"Your skin feels… different," you murmur, thinking aloud. "It's soft and… smooth, but it feels just a little more… dense? Not something I would've noticed if I didn't already know you were different…" You find the nodes, pressing a little firmer. "This doesn't hurt, does it?"

"No. It tickles a little, though," he smiles. You keep your endeared gaze on his neck, already aware that he's watching you. No matter what you do, his eyes seem to always be on your face.

"Your lymph nodes are much harder than a human's," you frown, moving your index and middle fingers over two nodes in particular. "They should feel like… soft beans, but yours are more like… small stones. In a human or animal, that could mean something like cancer."

Logically, you (insanely!) know now that he's not human like you. He's not human, therefore, the state of his lymph nodes shouldn't automatically be the serious concern it would be for one of your kind.

"You don't have to be worried," he assures, his voice rumbling against your fingertips. God, how easy are you to read?

You meet his eyes, not bothering to hide the worry-induced wrinkle between your brows when already called out. "Are they always like this, though? Rigid?"

Raising his hands, he presses his fingers against his own neck to check the spot you just touched. Your hands graze briefly as you lower yours, but you try to ignore it. Considering how long it takes him to find his lymph nodes, you assume he most likely doesn't check regularly.

"I don't know? I don't usually feel for them?"

As suspected. "Okay, and you're not sick? Haven't been recently?"

"No, but I don't really get sick in the way you probably mean," he says, a small smile tugging on his lips.

You raise your eyebrows curiously, backing up and reaching for the notes. "No?"

"Yeah. The temperature," he reminds you.

"Right." You nod. "Human viruses don't survive in you. But I'm sure there are vampire ailments?"

"A few, yeah."

You put the pen to your lip as you sit down on the chair again, leaning back comfortably. "Like what? Something entirely different or just… viruses like ours, but specifically adapted to survive a hotter host?"

"No, not really. Ironically, most of our diseases come from humans. Do you wanna guess?" he grins.

"You mean, like, diseases caused by factors other than a standard virus?"

"Yeah. If I say that the vampire population decreased pretty drastically in the 80s and 90s? And in the 1800s."

You scratch your chin. "Separate causes?"

"Yeah."

Leaning back even further, you think hard.

"It shouldn't be HIV since that's a virus," you think out loud, trying to filter through human and epidemic history. More specifically, blood-borne pathogens since that seems most logical. "Or Ebola. But it's something I should know? Not like… 'Vampire Disease number five?'"

Jeongguk chuckles, running his hand through his black hair once. "I'd be surprised if you didn't know."

Your gaze locks onto the white ceiling as you cross your arms and tap the pen against your lips. What happened in the 80s and 90s? Something that spread among humans, you assume, although you don't rule out animal diseases entirely.

"Wait," your eyes widen and you sit up straighter. Maybe it wasn't something targeting humans or animals, but both.

"Mad Cow Disease?"

He grins, nodding.

"That makes sense," you breathe, the puzzle pieces falling into place. "Viruses don't survive in you, but Mad Cow is faulty prions. They don't die from heat, at least not your body temperature. And although it's more likely to be transmitted by ingesting brain or spine-connected tissue, they can be passed on from blood as well."

"Yeah."

You pause. "But… how did they die? What were the symptoms?"

"Tremors, stumbling, acting… mad…"

"So the same as for humans?"

"Yeah. It's from the bacteria eating at the brain, right?"

"Prions, but yeah. They destroy them."

"Right. They'd eat at the brain, but since we heal so quickly, our bodies could repair the damage. The problem was that we couldn't truly get rid of the… prions, and so it became a cycle since the prions kept eating and we'd try to heal it."

"But… the prions target proteins found in the brain. Proteins that, in a human or animal, wouldn't survive at your temperature… What were the prions binding to?"

He shrugs. "Honestly, I don't know. There must've been something?"

"Maybe the disease mutated? To also target whatever proteins I'm sure you have? And… you said the population decreased?"

"Yes. A vampire without the common sense to hide, hunting humans… openly and ravenously…"

"You culled them," you conclude, wide eyed.

He nods, his expression having turned somber. "We need the humans not to fear us. Or at least, it's easier to live if they don't, so that's why they can't know about us."

"I see… And for the 1800s… Different cause?"

"Yeah. Technically, starvation was the actual cause of death."

You lean back again, brow furrowed in concentration. What could be the reason vampires starved in the 1800s?

"Logically, they starved because there wasn't enough food. Human history isn't my best subject, but wasn't the human population still expanding rapidly? Unless… was it connected to the Great Famine? Fewer humans mean less blood."

"It's not that. Quantity has never been a problem for us."

"Okay, if it's not the quantity then it's the quality, right? The blood was bad."

He watches you, curiously waiting for you to reach the conclusion, the previous flash of melancholy gone. "Yes, that's how it transferred. I'll help you out; one symptom was a slowly progressing… paralysis."

"So… they couldn't hunt?"

He shakes his head, and your brain works overtime, trying to find a reason. What kind of poisoning occurred in the 1800s that would paralyze vampires? What could make humans poisonous?

Food… disease… environ—

You sit up straighter again. "Were their gums blue? Either humans' and or vampires'?"

Jeongguk nods, the slight excitement on his face contagious. He's so attractive when he smiles like that; his otherwise round eyes thinning and crinkling at the corners.

"Lead poisoning," you conclude, grinning.

Feeling proud of your diagnosis (even with the help), you spin a victory lap on the chair. But as the room spins around you, a thought hits.

You put your feet to the linoleum floor, stopping abruptly. You're not grinning anymore, your eyes wide and your voice investigative. "But… you were alive then? For both of them."

"Yeah."

"How did you survive? Mad Cow didn't kill that many humans, but I'm sure there were a ton of carriers. And lead poisoning?"

"I happened to be living in New Zealand during that time," he explains, crossing his ankles. "It wasn't as much of a problem there as it was in places like England, where they were, you know, feeding ground-up brains to their cattle. Even as it spread to other parts of the world, we were safe."

"Huh," you hum. "And the heavy metal poisoning? Wasn't that incredibly widespread? Mercury in the wallpaper and such?"

"Arsenic," he corrects with a smile. "Mercury was for hats and medicine. Arsenic was the green wallpaper. But to answer your question; I had never left Korea back then, where the use of metals like that wasn't as bad."

"So you were lucky? Happened to be in safe spots both times?"

"No, not entirely. While it was practically everywhere in parts of the West, Koreans used it mostly as makeup. Pale faces and rosy cheeks and lips were all the rage back in Joseon, the higher quality stuff of course made with lead and cinnabar."

Jeongguk shifts on the table, eyes temporarily leaving yours as he leans back on his arms and casually thinks back to what must feel like an entirely different world.

"Us vampires, while having our own societies and trends, also need to keep up with the humans'. Most of the time, we're just as involved and participating."

His eyes find yours again, and you can see that he views at least the makeup trends with amusement.

"Naturally, vampire women painted their faces as well, but their skin didn't absorb the toxins like the humans' did."

"So how did it unfold? I mean, what made you survive while others didn't?"

"Shh," he hushes, pressing a finger to his lips with a teasing glint in his eye. "Patience."

You narrow your eyes at him, wordlessly cursing him. He can't truly expect you to sit quiet?

"It wasn't just the vampire women following the current beauty trends, but a large portion of vampires—male ones mostly—preferred to drink from the pale human women. Besides being rich and therefore superior," he chuckles, "they were beautiful and pure, and their blood had a certain… sweetness to it. While the poor tried to replicate the results, their makeup—made of ground rice or millet—lacked the lead that made it stick to the skin better. They simply couldn't achieve the same… finish."

A chill runs down your spine as he locks eyes with you, and you fight the shiver that threatens to rack your entire body.

A vision flashes before your eyes. Jeongguk, dressed in more time appropriate clothing you can only guess at—maybe the brown garb of a commoner or the traditional silk robes of a nobleman—holding a beautiful, well-dressed woman with pale skin and red lips against her will. His fangs are buried deep in her neck, and she's desperately struggling against his immovable hold, a red comparable to her lips running down her neck.

"After a while, humans would start showing subtle signs of poisoning," he resumes. "Like the blue gums. Back then, no one knew what it was, of course, or if it was dangerous. You couldn't see that they were already years into their decline, their insides pumped full of toxins. The humans didn't think much of it and neither did we. After all, human ailments come and go; they rarely affect us.

"But their symptoms escalated, and they went from having slight tremors to not being able to lift their arms. As the first humans, confused and often… mad—just like Mad Cow—started dying of malnutrition, the first vampires started showing symptoms as well.

"If it had been direct—if a human's gums had turned blue an hour after applying the paint, or a vampire's immediately after drinking from a pale-faced woman—it would've been a lot easier. Or even if all poisoned showed the same symptoms, which they didn't.

"When vampires did start to show symptoms… I mean, we figured it was the humans, since contaminated blood is our biggest, arguably even our only weakness. But we couldn't be sure what it was. Most of us got the blue gums; I did too."

You hear yourself let out a little gasp, completely immersed in his story-telling. Worry and empathy for the past version of him fills you; you can barely imagine what it would be like to see others succumb to some slow and mysterious illness and then find that you might be next in line.

"Still, a few bright vampires theorized whether the blue gums were just one of the first visible symptoms of whatever was killing the humans. Something that also seemed to hit the wealthy harder. Others disagreed and did not plan on giving up feeding from the rich."

You furrow your eyebrows. "Why not? If you suspected they were more susceptible?"

"Sounds easy, right? The problem was that the lead made the humans' blood so sweet it was addicting. Those who had preferred the wealthy blood even before the first symptoms appeared, they were already too far gone and couldn't quit. Some didn't care at all about the possible connection; others argued that the commoners' dirty blood was to blame and that the rich, pure blood was the only cure. Looking back now, I definitely think the denial and insanity were part of the symptoms.

"For vampires like me, whose diet—out of convenience—consisted mostly of commoners, mixed with the odd wealthy… meal, the toxins in our bodies built up over the years all the same. We just hadn't consumed enough to be addicted. As time went on and the demand for the beautiful, rich women rose, they became more and more of a rarity, and a lot of us turned entirely to common blood. Meanwhile, addicted vampires fought and even killed each other over the rich women."

A shiver does rack you at that as you imagine what the women must've felt like. Did they realize that something possibly… non-human was hunting them as one by one disappeared? Did one of them walk through the town at night, looking over her shoulder only to see a shape lurking in the shadows? Did she only survive because she ran when the man who stalked her, ready to pounce, had his head cracked against the stone wall by another of his kind?

You don't know if it makes you feel better or worse that vampires seem to be just as ruthless and ignorant as humans. Creeped out, you lower your gaze to your paper.

"One after the other, they would lose their strength and ability to move quickly—or even at all. But for those of us who weren't desperate for the rich women's blood, our bodies would get the chance to cleanse and heal. I didn't stick around to find that out, though. When I started feeling… stiff, and I one day happened to notice the blue line on my gums, I got nervous. I left town."

Though his story intrigues you, the constant mention of humans as food makes you feel nauseous. Somewhere deep down, you of course realized that Jeongguk had probably fed on humans before—maybe even killed some—but to hear it confirmed so casually? If he's done it before, why wouldn't he do it again? Instinctively, you touch the side of your neck.

"Maybe I should've skipped that story."

You look up, seeing his apologetic smile. Taking a breath, you peer down at the note, absentmindedly folding it neatly in half. "No," you shake your head. "It's just that… I mean, how do I know…"

"That I won't eat you?"

"Yeah," you breathe, laughing awkwardly.

"I don't want to, and I don't need to," he says, his voice firm. "There weren't as many options back then."

While you can believe that society would've changed for everyone, supernatural beings included, you can't say how much you believe he'd prefer the powdered deer blood. Out of convenience? Sure. If he has the chance to drain someone of their warm, fresh, pulsing blood?

"And how… how much can you trust that?"

"You mean if I have instincts I can't control?"

"Yeah. Like the grilled chicken," you mumble.

"I have all my needs and… desires satisfied. It's not tempting to hurt you; I don't want to do it, and I don't need to do it."

"You can control the… urge?"

He tilts his head softly. "Yes."

"Do you promise?" you ask carefully, forcing a small smile to ease the tension you feel.

"Yeah. Honestly, I think I should be more afraid of you eating me than the other way around."

Just like that, most of the tension in your shoulders dissipates, and you meet his amused eyes. "Oh, come on. Can you really fault me for being interested in you?"

He tilts his head again, eyebrows rising when he reconsiders the meaning of his words. "That's not how I meant it. I just meant that… I'm harmless. You're practically a bigger danger to me than I am to you."

"Oh."

"Yeah. But I can't say I don't enjoy the attention." He grins, gripping the edge of the table and leaning forward. You try not to stare at his arms and the veins spanning them.

Instead, you force your embarrassed gaze back down to your notes. "Anyway," you take a deep breath, trying to regain your focus. "So, when you stopped ingesting the lead, the symptoms went away?"

"Yeah. I stopped feeling stiff, and the blue line eventually faded. Unfortunately, a lot of affected vampires never gave their bodies time to get rid of the lead, thus worsening the paralysis until they starved. If they didn't kill each other over the rich humans' blood first."

"How long did it take? How long can you go without blood?"

"Depends. Right now, I reckon I could go like… a few months before I die. Four or five, maybe. A few days without blood and my body cools and slows down to save energy. A week and it starts eating the fat reserves. That would last for about three months."

"Three months on fat? Your fat?" you comment skeptically. Jeongguk is lean, like… 95% muscle.

He smiles. "Yeah, even though I have a rather low body fat percentage, my body is very efficient at breaking down nutrients, so the fat I do have lasts me a long time."

You wonder to yourself if his fat is the same type as a human's, considering he primarily runs on iron. "And then?"

"After that, the body burns muscle, like a human's."

"And then you die?"

"Yeah…"

But there's something in the way he says that—briefly glancing in another direction—that has you narrowing your eyes. "Is there another stage? Or do you just never actually die and you—for some reason—don't want me to know that?"

He sighs, shifting uncomfortably. "No, it's… I don't want to scare you because it's not something you'll ever encounter."

"But…?" You urge, feeling a worry grow in your stomach.

"Before a vampire starves to death, they enter a stage of 'rage.'"

It takes you a second, but then you're throwing an educated guess at him. "Instead of conserving that last bit of energy to prolong life, you use it to go after everything in sight on the off chance you succeed? And survive?"

"Essentially," he nods. "Of course, that didn't happen during the lead poisoning. If a vampire survived long enough for it to kick in, they were typically too paralyzed. They couldn't move much."

Well… you understand why he was hesitant to tell you. Possibly the one thing scarier than a conniving, contemplating vampire, is one that doesn't care and has absolutely nothing left to lose.

"Oh," you swallow. "And… how often does a vampire starve that long today?"

"Never. I haven't heard of anyone starving to death in the last… at least forty years. To be clear, If I stopped eating tomorrow, I'd still be miles away from here before I'd enter any kind of impulsive stage."

There's a sharp pain somewhere in your chest. Right, he's supposed to leave town again. Whatever discomfort you felt hearing about the raging vampires of the past turns into another kind of heavy, sinking feeling.

"Where are you going? If you don't mind me asking?" you wonder, doing your best to sound curious and not like it's the bummer of the century, which it is; both for you and the science you'll never share.

"I've been living in Rio for the last decades, actually. So I'm heading back, either directly, or I take a trip past some friends scattered across Europe first."

"And you're not coming back here very soon, I take it?"

"No."

The finality of his answer surprises you. "Not soon or just… never? What about your house?"

"I'll return someday, just probably not during your lifetime. I haven't decided about the house yet, but it's not that expensive to keep an old house like that."

"Oh."

"Yeah. So you better ask your questions before I leave."

He offers you that warm and handsome smile of his, but you struggle to return it, hoping he doesn't see how uncomfortable his words make you. Or the reminder of truly how old he is.

'I'll return someday, just probably not during your lifetime.'

Because is that not the most melancholic sentence you've ever heard? To him, your life must not be much more than a blip. A fleeting moment while time barely touches him. You can't even imagine what it's like to see and participate in a society yet not really be a part of it. Watch it shift from horse-drawn carriages, candlelight, and emperors to planes, the internet, and democracy. To watch humans live their short lives around you and then die. Their ups and downs, childhoods, teens, adulthood, old age, a never-ending change, yet you stand at the sidelines, frozen in time.

How odd and… uncomfortable.

You look at your list again, adding a small, less prioritized 'mental state?' at the bottom.

"Right, lymph nodes. Well, they were very rigid. I take it because your body and immune system is very active. Maybe they're a little scarred from the lead poisoning and everything."

"Possibly."

While writing a summarized version down, you let out a yawn. Something Jeongguk doesn't miss.

"Didn't you say something about needing to sleep?" he questions.

You look at him briefly. "No?"

"I meant last time we talked."

Dropping your gaze to the paper once more, you do your best to avoid his eyes.

Usually, when you work the night shift, you schedule short naps and frequent alarms. All depending on the inpatient animals and their conditions, of course. If a patient needs constant monitoring but remains asleep themselves, you find other ways to keep busy.

Staying awake certainly hasn't been a problem tonight. Not at all. Until the last fifteen minutes, at least. That's when you felt it start to creep up. And while you're definitely tired now, there's just so many things you need to see. So many questions to ask.

Chuckling, he calls your name; a sound that elicits an extra beat from your weak heart.

"Yes, okay," you admit. "I should rest a little."

"Should I leave?" he wonders, turning to grab his jacket.

You shut your eyes, reluctant to say the words, but sighing in defeat. "I think that's best, or I won't be able to sleep."

Luckily, he doesn't seem to take offense. If anything, his grin widens as he pulls on his jacket and jumps down from the exam table.

"If you insist on kicking me out," he teases, already heading toward the exit while peering back over his shoulder at you.

You can't help but pout as you follow, struggling to keep up. "I'm not kicking you out. Actually, you brought it up."

His strides slow. "Oh? Should I stay then?"

You shut your eyes tightly. "No," you huff, "you're too interesting."

Ego boosted beyond what's probably healthy, Jeongguk laughs. "So I should leave?"

"Yes."

"Hmm, alright. Since you have no time for me, I'll just have to tell you about my super strength, or the fact that I don't really need to consume fluid, next time?"

With wide eyes and suddenly incredibly stressed, you jog to catch up, carefully but very desperately grabbing hold of his black jacket to stop him. You've already made it past the reception desk and to the front door, where he halts.

"No, no, no, hold up. No fluids? At all? Besides the blood, right? Or do you mean you could technically eat the powdered blood and be fine? For how long?"

"I guess it'll have to wait till next time," he sighs in faux sadness, unlocking the door and opening it.

He's halfway through it when you pull on his jacket again. "No, no, no, you can't say that and just leave?"

When he turns to face you, your hand slides from the back of his jacket to clutch at the front. What you're really trying to accomplish, you're not sure. Maybe you just hope he'll give you something.

"You'll be too tired for your next shift, and you wouldn't want to risk the animals' care, would you?"

You shoot him a desperate, pleading look. "I'll call in sick."

"Aren't you already understaffed? Don't think your colleagues would appreciate that."

That fucking smile. So handsome and sweet but so teasing. God.

"When do you get off?" he asks.

"Four a.m.," you answer, hoping selfishly that maybe he'll offer to return to walk you home, giving you more time with him. There are still three whole hours left.

For some reason, he holds his hand out to you instead. Dumbfounded—and with your heart skipping every other beat—you meet his eyes with your confused ones, slowly letting go of his jacket to put your hand in his warm one.

"Text me when you've made it home safely. You have my number somewhere in your files."

Then, he lifts your joined hands above your head. He spins you—a smooth and deliberate twirl—while simultaneously using your raised hand to pull you backward, toward the clinic. The momentum has you stumbling back inside while the glass door closes between you.

As you regain your balance, you catch sight of his happy grin through the glass before he turns, disappearing into the night.

<previous | next>

“All I’m saying is that Halloween hardly feels like a holiday about vampires!”

“As opposed to what? Christmas?”

You’ve been standing in your kitchen arguing with your boyfriend for so long that the once-scalding cup of coffee in your favorite mug is now cold. Jungkook is sitting on the bar stool against the counter, his white shirt rolled up his forearms to reveal a similar pale shade underneath. You can see the corded tendons of his arms flex as he wrings his hands together in frustration. 

When you woke up this morning, it was not from a lazy well-slept haze you were expecting to have. Instead, you had awoken to a crash coming from the kitchen, sending your heart jolting as you tried to make sense of the world and the source of the noise. 

Buttercup, your cat and usual suspect for mischief, mewled angrily from her perch as she, too, eyed the wrongfully accused sleep disruptor. As she arched her back in one long, tail-shaking stretch, she glared at you and then twirled herself around to face the wall before settling back into her bed with a final huff. 

If it wasn’t Buttercup, then it could only be one other creature. 

You’d padded your way down the hall to the kitchen, only to see Jungkook already dressed and swearing to himself as he gathered the shattered pieces of a glass measuring cup and what looked like orange juice into a pile with a wet dish rag. 

“Don’t come any closer!” he shrieked, and before you could even open your mouth to assure him you’d be fine, he'd already swooped you into the living room and onto the couch. “Don’t move!” he ordered and because you heard the sharp warning creeping into his tone, you obeyed. 

An hour and a half later, the kitchen is a mess from what you now understand to be Jungkook’s attempt at cooking you breakfast for Valentine’s Day, a holiday that you both agreed you wouldn’t celebrate.

You take a sip of your coffee, trying not to wince at how it still somehow tastes burnt through the too-sweet pink sugar cookie creamer he’d doused it with when he insisted on making you a cup. 

“No, of course not. Y/N! But don’t you think Valentine’s Day should be more about vampires?” 

You snort, and the residual coffee on your tongue shoots to the back of your throat, sending you into a coughing fit. 

“What?” You say when you finally regain composure. You set down the mug and glance around for a single cup in your kitchen that hasn’t been dirtied in this process of making…well…you’re not sure what. There’s some burnt edges of something in the sink, but a weird goo glazing various bowls that somewhat resembles pancakes. However, a bright green lump of…maybe spinach?...rests in those as well, so you’re not entirely confident where he was going with this execution. 

Jungkook isn’t usually this oblivious to human tendencies, mostly because it wasn’t so long ago that he himself was a human. In the year you’ve been together, you’ve learned all about Jungkook’s swift descent into vampirism. Unlike many of his kind, he’s a fledgling. He was turned a handful of years ago and doesn’t exist in the ancient, strange accents and customs form of vampire some know. Nor is he a sleepless, sparkly teenager with superhuman speed. Yes, he has fangs, is paler than the normal person, and he will not (you think) age. But as someone who has maintained his twenty-something appearance, this currently presents as a non-issue because, if still alive, he would still be a twenty-something. 

And unlike the stereotypes of his kind, Jungkook is not in a decades-long bloodlust. Lust, perhaps, but it’s unknown if that’s because of his vampirism or because he’s a horny man. The one who changed Jungkook did so in a dark night club in Paris between searing hot kisses, where he slid his fangs along Jungkook’s throat while rutting against him on the dance floor. Jungkook, in that drunk and sex-induced haze, never suspected that the slight sharpness tracing along his jugular, sending a delicious chill down his spine, would result in him waking up three days later in a hotel in Vienna with nothing more than a vague note of warning and a few plastic bags of blood chilling in the mini fridge. 

While he doesn’t consume much now beyond A or O positive, Jungkook often cooks you meals so you’re not as tired when you get home from work. It’s sweet, but you know that he does it for himself, for the reminder of his humanity and, as he once admitted himself, for the fact that more energy saved from you not cooking means more energy for him to fuck out of you seven days a week. 

“I’m going to need you to explain your reasoning behind that logic,” you say, and finally locate a clean cup to fill with water. 

Jungkook grunts, and when you glance over at him, you can see he's pouting, his dual lip rings pulled under one of his fangs. 

“Well,” he says, tense, “I just thought…with all this stuff, Valentine’s Day should be more about, you know, vampires? Blood? Red? Hearts?”

“Baby,” you laugh, and fish around on the cluttered countertop for something to eat until you spot a bowl of strawberries tucked behind a jar of kimchi. Your stomach growls. “Valentine’s Day uses the heart motif because of love. You know that. You weren’t born yesterday.” 

He rolls his eyes in annoyance and you furrow your brow before popping the sweet fruit into your mouth. What is going on with him today? 

“Yes, I know I wasn’t born yesterday! Thank you for the reminder! But I’m saying that Halloween is this holiday that makes vampires into these beasts who suck and drain all the blood from bodies or sleep in coffins! Beware the dark corners of the world or else they’ll get you! But Valentine’s Day, what even is this about? A fat naked baby who spears you with an arrow and suddenly you’re in love with someone? Sounds way more monstrous to me! And people embrace this guy? People want him to stab them so they can be all fluttery in love and get all these nice things. But I have to be seen as this awful monster all the time? It’s just not fair!” he shouts, and swipes his hand across the counter. 

You gasp as you watch an empty plastic container clatter to the ground before he brings his hands up to cover his face. 

Jungkook isn’t one for temper tantrums. While he does have a tendency to be more sensitive, throwing things, even empty containers, is very out of the norm for him. You remember early on in your relationship, he once used a little too much of his supernatural strength to hit you with a pillow when you were both goofing off, which resulted in you being smacked right off the bed with the wind knocked out of you. 

You spent the rest of the day posted up on the couch under his orders, while he waited on you hand-and-foot despite the fact that once you recovered (mostly from laughter), you were perfectly fine. It led to an eventual discussion about how you weren’t so breakable, where you proved your point by showing him just how flexible you were. 

Which is why now, as Jungkook huffs all over the place, you know something is seriously wrong. 

You move away from the strawberries and walk around the kitchen island to Jungkook, gently pulling his hands down.

“Hey,” you whisper, looking up at him. His hair has fallen into his face, disheveled from all his fussing in the kitchen and the many times this morning you’ve seen him running his fingers through it. 

Jungkook yanks his hand away and stands, pushing away from the counter before stomping into the living room and pacing angrily. You follow him.

“Hey,” you try again, firmer. “You gonna tell me what is going on? Because normally you don’t leave a giant mess of whatever that is going on in the kitchen before you walk away from it, and you especially don’t walk away from me when I’m trying to talk to you.” Your jaw sets and you stand in the doorway, crossing your arms as you watch him pace. 

He responds with a sarcastic laugh. “Yeah, well that’s a start. Can’t even fucking cook my girlfriend a meal on this stupid holiday.”

This is exactly why you told Jungkook you don’t want to celebrate Valentine’s Day this year. All week long he’s been making snarky comments about it, from rants about the greeting card company’s agenda to explaining how it’s become over-the-top and overrated to now, as of this morning, promoting vampires as the superior holiday mascot to Cupid.

Truthfully, you’ve always liked this holiday. When all the post-holiday sales were running months ago, you’d noticed a deal on the record player Jungkook had been eying for months but would never let himself have. His last one had started to break right after you two started dating, but he was always a good sport about it, cracking jokes about how the old-timey canned sound it produced didn’t play Eminem, but “Eminesquire the Third”. Prompted by the desperate need to replace the tinny echoes that haunted your apartment, you didn’t hesitate to snag this gift for him and immediately wrapped it before shoving it under your bed to give to him today. 

Well, that was until all this started a little over a week ago. Up until that point, he’d seemed fine, never mentioning an opinion on Valentine’s Day. Then one morning you woke up and saw him complaining about how since he turned he would never be able to eat chocolate again. Which was incredibly dramatic, because Jungkook can eat if he wants to, but he chooses not to since it doesn’t do anything for him anymore. 

Every mention of the holiday since, from the ads popping up on his phone to the colorful heart shaped decorations in store fronts, has made him irate and hostile. 

“Listen, I don’t know what’s going on, but I didn’t ask you to make me breakfast,” you huff, now offset by his bad mood. “Like, I know that I told you last week we didn’t have to do any of this. So I’m not sure why now you’re trying to make some grand gesture of breakfast or stomping around arguing with me about the politics of vampires being a traditional mascot for Halloween instead of Valentine’s Day or how dumb you think this holiday is.” 

His nostrils flare. “Well excuse me for trying to be a good boyfriend and do something nice for you!” 

“What?” Heat flashes through your entire body as you feel the thin hold you have on your anger slip. “Oh, I see. So this is all about me is it? This is my fault? Tell me, when I go in there and clean up your mess of all my food you wasted by doing this nice thing I didn’t ask for, is that also for me as a treat? Or is that going to be leftover in the fridge for me to clean later?” 

Jungkook’s eyes narrow as you match his anger. He opens his mouth to speak, but you raise your eyebrow, daring him to try. 

“Ah ah,” you warn, your voice laced with venom. “I’m not fucking done speaking.”

He slides his tongue over his teeth instead before sucking in his lips. 

“So, after I noticed it hurt you and said we didn’t have to do it, after I promised you I didn’t mind if we skipped the theatrics of this holiday, you what? Took it out on me? How the hell is this being a good boyfriend, Jungkook? How is you shutting me out for the last week, pouting and being an absolute brat doing me any favors? Showing you love me?”

You begin to feel the fury recede into something worse: pain. It settles over the heat, moving back down into your throat with a sharp lump. 

“You wanna talk about shutting someone out, Y/N? Really?” Jungkook roars, halting his anxious movement. “That’s rich considering the secrets you’re keeping!”

Your brain buzzes with confusion and anger. You rewind the conversation, trying to form connections that would lead to this accusation. 

“Are you serious? Wh-Do you think I’m cheating or s-something? Jungkook who the fuck do you think–” Your voice cracks, and you heft a heavy sob from your chest. 

Never in your relationship have you two ever suspected the other of cheating. You’ve always been so certain of each other, that you two would never stray, that your connection and the very nature of your relationship demonstrated a type of bond that didn’t present anyone else as an option simply because you never wanted anyone else. 

But given how things have been going, how Jungkook has been hiding things from you, you are starting to wonder if that’s not the case, if him pulling away isn’t to try to protect himself from getting hurt. 

You’ve also tried not to notice how this month, when you counted the inventory of the blood bags stashed in the back of the freezer, it wasn’t nearly as empty as it usually was. You considered that maybe Jungkook just wasn’t thirsty, that maybe some of the bags you’d snagged from work, one of them being plasma, were satiating his hunger more than usual. With how Jungkook is looking at you now, eyes wide with the shock of your address, you can see you were wrong, the faint circles of thirst tugging under his eyelids. 

You pull your shirt sleeve up to wipe your dripping nose, only to see it’s stained blue from some mysterious breakfast ingredient. 

“I’m not saying you’re cheating, Y/N! God why would you think that! Fuck, no, this.” He produces a folded up envelope from his back pocket and shoves it toward you. 

You sniffle and take the envelope, noticing it’s addressed to you. From your work. 

Your stomach sinks. You know exactly what that is. “You know what? I’m going to take a shower,” you mumble, and you see in your periphery Jungkook’s head snap toward you. 

“What?” he says exasperated. “Now? We–”.

You nod, choosing not to look at him now as you cut down the hall and shut the bathroom door firmly behind you.

You and Jungkook met, ironically, at a blood drive. 

You were both volunteering to hand out snacks and mini water bottles to donors at the drive. This was a few months before Jungkook had gone on his Eurotrip, a few months before he would never again be able to volunteer with clinics to help patients. 

While you’d met back then, and certainly had some chemistry that resulted in one really sexy car makeout ending with his hand down your scrub pants and you panting into his neck, it wasn’t until a few years later you’d reunited. 

Jungkook had been pacing around the clinic near closing time, his thirst becoming far more unbearable by the hour. He had been trying desperately to avoid consuming human blood, but the various city rats or injured birds he was drinking from were still racking him with unfavorable guilt and an almost hazy sickness you remember sinking his features. 

When you went to leave that night, you’d spotted Jungkook propped up against one of the glass doors, pale, with heavy bruise-like markings under his eyes. He was conscious, you’d noted, despite the fact that you couldn’t detect a pulse and his skin felt harder and icy to the touch. When you grabbed your phone to call an ambulance, he knocked it from your hand, instead begging you for a bag of blood. 

“I can’t do transfusions, Jungkook, not here. That’s why we need to get you the hospital, so we can you look you over and–”

“No, Y’N, that’s not what I mean.” He’d laughed and flashed you a weak smile. “I don’t need a transfusion.”

“Then, what––.”

And that’s when you saw them: his fangs. 

When you’d heard about Jungkook going missing in Paris, randomly disappearing in the night and showing back up months later with no story to share, there were rumors circulating that he’d started doing drugs and lost his job at the record store because in Europe he got hooked on opiates. 

And you’d so easily believed that lie, though it soured your stomach. What other explanation was there for someone disappearing and coming back more pale, less human? You simply continued on with your work, finishing school in between and finding a more permanent presence at the clinic as a phlebotomist.

Feeling guilty, you turned around and headed back into the building, emerging with two bags of warm blood that you watched him practically shotgun in the passenger seat of your car. You didn’t tell him it was your blood, but as he told you later, he knew anyway. He could smell your particular flavor dotting the bandage. 

Slowly, you and Jungkook became closer, you swiped a blood bag here and there from the clinic when no one was looking, sitting with him as he told you the story of him turning or the first time he fed. It seemed too surreal to be true, but as the dark circles under his eyes began to fade over the weeks, and his laugh started sounding more round and full, you felt like there was no way you could deny who he was, or more importantly, how he made you feel. 

Being around Jungkook was addicting, which was evident in how easy it became for you to steal blood from the clinic without thinking twice. At first, you felt awful, knowing that each bag you were taking could very well be taking away someone else’s chance at life. But the more you thought about Jungkook, how he was just as alive as any human– how he feathered his fingers through his hair or how just a few years ago he breathed and moaned before you in the backseat of your car– what really was the difference between giving him blood versus some other person? Didn’t both bodies need it to survive? 

The months ran on, and the crisp fall days that welcomed Jungkook back into your life were becoming tender, warmer as the early blooms of spring replaced them. Jungkook, too, was warmer, his body full and flushed with blood as he finally returned to as much of a human as he can be, reaching for your hand when you two walked through the park together, or falling asleep on your stomach while watching a movie. 

Vampires sleep, you learned, though it’s not so much necessary as it is habitual, as Jungkook explained. He once tested himself to see how long he could go without sleeping, and as it turned out, the answer was evidently forever, for he managed three weeks not feeling groggy in the slightest. But sleeping helped time pass. Nights were lonely when the only people he wanted to interact with weren’t around, and grappling with being some shade of immortal often led Jungkook into a spiral as he processed time passing. 

Therefore, sleep was welcome when it came. Especially with you, who he could tuck himself close to, and the soft beat of your heart served as his lullaby.

That’s when you knew that you loved him: when he told you that he went to sleep for you, that otherwise, he waited for you to wake up so he could see you again. 

You’d become just as addicting to be around as he was for you, and you trusted it wasn’t just because you were his favorite teller at the blood bank who snuck him a withdrawal. 

It was because he loved you too.

The fog on the bathroom mirror doesn’t show your reflection currently, but if it did, you know you’d see Jungkook standing behind you silently as you brush your teeth. Despite his stillness and his ability to appear without making a sound when he wants, your body reacts to Jungkook like a magnet pulled toward metal. 

“Why didn’t you tell me?” he asks finally, and you rinse your mouth. 

“Because, I didn’t want you to feel guilty,” you say and reach for the envelope you left on the bathroom counter before your shower. 

After a year of sneaking blood from the clinic, one year of popping plastic bags your into pockets after writing them off under a sealing failure or manufacturing issue or recording less volume in the official donation records or claiming a miscount in inventory, you were finally caught last week with a warm bag of blood in your possession.

Stupidly, you’d popped it into your purse right before an end-of-day meeting and in the rush to make it on time, you didn’t zip everything closed securely. When you inevitably knocked your knee onto the table while shifting to get more comfortable, your purse tumbled to the floor, exposing the vermillion contents within, and issuing you an immediate suspension. 

Suspension, instead of fire only for the singular fact that the bag of cooling blood was your own. 

You had known for a while that the clinic’s director of operations was becoming suspicious. The entire team had been subject to instances of recertification and retraining to try to address whatever issues that were leading to so many mishaps. It would only be a matter of time before the records kept showing your name attached to these transgressions, though you were almost relieved when you’d learned there were other various cases of blood loss occurring for factors you weren’t responsible for, most notably some interns who kept forgetting to put the bags containing red blood cells in the refrigerator, or who were not filling the entire bags, disqualifying the entire sample. 

Overall, it would be safer to divest from your current plan, but finding an alternative to feed Jungkook was more difficult than you thought. You knew given the shortage of blood donations, you could no longer keep gleaning from work or other affiliates as resources. 

But you also couldn’t convince Jungkook to feed from you. 

You’d tried many times in the last year when he was dizzy or grumpy from thirst. And every time without fail, he refused. 

“I haven’t even bitten anyone before,” he admitted one day, the dark circles under his eyes especially purple. His stubborn refusal slurred his speech into a lisp. “And I don’t intend to start now! Especially not with you!” 

You’d dropped the subject, rooting around in the freezer until you found a blocky pint underneath a tub of freezer-burned ice cream. 

But Jungkook had drunk your blood before on that first night at the clinic. And maybe if you executed things carefully, you could supplement some packets of your own blood in to help him get by. That way, he wouldn't have to bite you, but at least he would be fed. And you wouldn’t be at risk of imprisonment for medical theft. 

So that’s what you started to do, slowly introducing him to your blood by creating fake donor names with the label machine and reprinting the same barcode as you filled bag after bag over the weeks. 

And then last week, you got caught, your only assurance that you might only be suspended rooted in the fact that you hadn’t had the time to issue a fake label for the bag before the meeting. 

And, because the blood was still warm in its pouch, because your arm had only just stopped bleeding, your case that you made of the blood being yours wasn’t entirely unreasonable. But what no one could understand was why you needed a bag of your own blood in the first place, much less why you were doing your own draw of it. 

They confiscated the bag, as well as a small sample you offered for lab comparison to confirm it was yours, and they sent you home with the letter almost like you were a kid who was in trouble at school. 

Your suspension is in effect until the board meets later this week to discuss your case, at which time you’ll be informed if you’re terminated or if you’ll be put on probation. 

You’ve accepted that you might be fired, but what you couldn’t  accept is the idea that Jungkook would definitely blame himself if he found out. Which is why you couldn’t bring yourself to tell him when it happened. If you did, you knew you would also have to admit to him that you have been non-consensually feeding him your blood instead of others’, which was a conversation you’d hoped to avoid until you were sure he would understand. Instead, you fucked up, and it’s all the more apparent as Jungkook frowns at you in the bathroom.

You rinse your mouth of the toothpaste, feeling a huge shard of guilt pierce your stomach. 

“I wouldn’t have let you keep doing this if I’d known you were at risk of losing your job,” he mutters. “You already know I feel shitty even relying on you like this.”

“That’s exactly my point! That’s why I didn’t tell you! Because I knew we would end up here!”

“And that’s why this is a problem! You are failing to see how fucked up it is for me to have to depend on you to feed me!”

“Why?” You snap, and you immediately regret it, giving him an apologetic frown. “Sorry, I mean. Why do you feel so shitty relying on me? We’re partners, Jungkook.” 

“Yeah, Y/N, we’re partners. Which means we are supposed to communicate with each other about things. That doesn’t mean you risk your entire career for me.” 

“But doesn’t it, though?” You argue. 

Jungkook groans and then wets his lips with his tongue before speaking. “No, baby. You’re not supposed to be making sacrifices like this! Not for me! Fuck, you shouldn’t be doing shit like this at all! You should be going to work, kicking ass, and then coming home to eat real food with your real boyfriend before you have incredible sex and then fall asleep!”

You cock your head at him, confused. “But, Jungkook, we already do that stuff.”

“No, we don’t, Y/N. You go to work, orchestrate some grand scheme to basically illegally harvest strangers’ blood during a national shortage, you come home and you eat. But I don’t. I leech off of someone else’s platelets. And then we have sex, and you fall asleep. And sometimes I do. But sometimes, I can’t. Because all I want to do is dream of you and I can’t do that anymore. Because I’m not real, Y/N, I’m literally a monster.” 

You shake your head furiously and step toward him. “Listen. I made the choice to do this. Ever since the first day when you showed up at the clinic. I could have left you behind, I could have insisted to take you to the hospital anyway or put you in a headlock or something–”

“You are way too weak to put me in a headlock, even on that day,” he chuckles. 

“I would have figured it out! But I had a choice in this Jungkook, just as much as you did for showing up, for asking me to help you. You could have gone somewhere else, or broken into the clinic after I left. You could have continued to live a half-life with a diet of rats and the occasional squirrel. But you chose this. You made choices, too.”

You push your toweled body into him, desperate for his touch. This is how you often are with him, needing him to ground you, to make sure you don’t spin out of control. He sighs, and you feel him circle his arms around you, his nose nuzzling into your wet hair. You shiver at the contact. Your shower must’ve been hotter than normal, because Jungkook feels almost like ice against your skin, much colder than his normal, albeit cooler temperature. 

“Fuck, Jungkook, when was the last time you ate?” you ask. 

He stiffens, then withdraws from the embrace.

“Get dressed,” he says, ignoring your question, before opening the door to the bathroom, the draft of the apartment, of his absence, leaving goosebumps on your skin in its wake.

The kitchen is clean, any and all evidence of this morning’s tirade gone. Jungkook has changed out of his jeans and button-down for a black hoodie and basketball shorts, solidifying the idea that he has no intention of leaving the apartment for the rest of the day. 

You dress down similarly, throwing on a large ratty t-shirt and some sweats, very similar to the pajamas you’d been wearing for most of the day. 

There’s a fresh pot of coffee brewing, but you ignore it, your stomach feeling sour over the idea of putting anything into it right now. 

You lead Jungkook into the living room, and both of you sit on the couch, legs folded as you face one another. 

“I know you’re not eating.” You try to say it softly, like an observation, but as the words leave your mouth, you hear them sound accusatory, tense. 

“I know you know I’m not eating,” he responds, his tone even and cool. “I’ve seen you doing inventory checks daily.” 

“You have to eat,” you urge. “You can’t just starve like this.”

“I’m not starving,” he says, still composed, distant. 

“Bun, you’ve significantly curbed your consumption. You used to throw back two pints a day, easily.” 

“Yes, well, that was before I found out my girlfriend was suspended from work for smuggling me those two pints, jeopardizing her entire future.”

“I don’t understand why you’re making this a bigger deal than it is.”

His eyebrows rise. “I don’t understand why you’re not making it the bigger deal that it is!” 

“Because it’s not! Not really! I have it under control!”

“And how exactly do you have this under control? Getting fired? Ruining your life isn’t control!”

“I don’t think I’ll be fired. Put on probation maybe, but not fired.”

“And why are you so sure about that?”

“Because…because I didn’t steal someone else’s blood. And that’s a criminal offense. But the laws are muddier when it’s your own blood.”

“Your…your own blood. You were caught with your own blood.” Jungkook looks at you quizzically. And then you see it register. His pupils blow wide. 

“I fucking knew it,” he says. “I knew I was tasting you. I thought maybe it was just because you were on your period for a little longer than usual this month, and that maybe I was catching something in the air and just mixing up the scent with the taste of the blood. But, fuck! Goddamn it Y/N! I told you I didn’t want to feed from you and you just went and did it anyway?” 

“I’m sorry,” you admit, your cheeks burning with guilt. “I just wanted to help you.” 

“By taking away my choice in the matter? By hurting yourself? Shit!” 

“No. I–I know you said you didn’t want to bite me, so I thought maybe if I did it this way that it wouldn’t be so bad and you wouldn’t have to feel so bad about it! And then I wouldn’t be as likely to be caught at work. It gave me some protection too in this! The board is meeting later this week to talk about my case and because the blood results proved to be mine, they just have to decide an appropriate punishment. I’m not going to go to jail over this, and if I lose my job, I’ll figure something out. But, I really didn’t mean to take away your choice, and I see now that I did.” You feel your throat close as you begin to cry.

Jungkook is right, you took away his choice by doing this, and no matter your intention, he has the right to know. 

“I’m really sorry. I completely fucked up doing this.”

“Yeah, you did. But not in the way you’re seeing this. God. It’s not about biting or not biting, it’s how easily you did it for me. How you keep putting yourself, your own health, at risk for me! You don’t get it! You stole blood for me for almost a year. And then when you started to realize your future was at stake, you took it from your own body. Which you shouldn’t have to do!”

You swipe at the tears pooling from your eyes. “You keep saying that. Why do you keep saying that?”

“Because it’s true, baby! You shouldn’t be in this weird supernatural chaos! It’s Valentine’s Day! You should be feeding your boyfriend chocolates or eating breakfast in bed. Exchanging presents and going on dates to dinner or the movies. Having sex! And not just sex, making love, making babies!” 

“But you said you didn’t want to do any of that! Jungkook, I’m so confused. What is it that you want? If you want to celebrate Valentine’s Day, I have a present for you wrapped up that I’ve been dying to give you for months. And we can go to the movies. We can have sex… I don’t even want a baby!”

You pull a pillow into your lap like a shield. 

“You do want a baby,” he accuses. You snap your head up. 

“What? No, I–”

“You do. You told me on Christmas Eve, when we were watching that movie on the couch. You were falling asleep during it, but in that scene when he comes home after saying no to that deal, she says ‘I want my baby to look like you’ and you looked up at me so sleepy and warm and alive, and you repeated it back to me. You said ‘I want my baby to look like you.’” 

You think back to that night, when you and Jungkook were cuddled up together watching It’s A Wonderful Life since he’d never seen it, and between sips of a very strong eggnog, you kept studying his face, almost overwhelmed by the idea that you could ever love him more than you did in this moment. When Mary told George she was pregnant, something just felt right about that phrase, and in your tipsy, sleepy, haze, you must have recited that part back to him. 

Honestly, you do want your baby to look like him. You can’t imagine anyone else in the world whose features you would want to see copied into another human, one that you make together. 

“It’s okay, Y/N. I’m not mad that you said it. I’m honored. Because if I could have children, I would want them to look like you.” His voice is tight. “But I can’t give you that. I think if I could, we would currently be arguing over paint swatches and baby names while I rub your swollen feet, not this. Because fuck we have definitely not been careful,” he chuckles. 

Despite the sadness in his voice, you feel yourself smirk. 

“And even if we adopted, that doesn’t solve one of the biggest issues out of all of this. Which is that you will grow older and more beautiful and our children would grow older and more beautiful, and I don’t know if I will. I don’t know if I’m going to be doomed by the stereotypical vampire life because I don’t know who turned me. He didn’t give me anything to go off of. Maybe I age but I do it slower. Maybe I will never age. Maybe I live forever or just a little longer than you. Or fuck, maybe instead of living forever, vampires actually have an insanely short life span because we are just another type of mosquito derivative!”

You laugh at that, though you still feel the tears staining your cheeks, making no effort to stop. 

“The point is, I can’t promise you anything human. I can’t promise you a normal life with me. Babies that we make, us growing old together. If I could do one thing different, I kinda wish I put a baby into you the first time we fucked around in that car. God knows I was hard enough.” 

“Jungkook,” you choke, ignoring his attempt at deflecting. “I don’t care about any of that. I know I said that stuff on Christmas, but I didn’t mean it like that. Maybe you can have kids! Like you said, you don’t know. For all we know, my freakishly long periods might be a sign I’m infertile. I don’t know either, I haven’t gone to the doctor or taken tests because I haven’t been too worried about it. That or aging or any of this! My job even.”

“Wait, hold on, back up. You might be infertile?” He looks almost offended by his own use of the term. 

You nod. “Maybe, but I haven’t really been thinking about it lately. I’ve been more worried about you, more focused on you.”

He squints. “Why?”

“Because you’ve been evasive and bratty and honestly just fucking awful. And I can see why. You’re thirsty. You stopped eating again. You started screaming about heart themed things being for vampires. You’ve been avoiding me…is that why you haven’t told me anything? Because of my work thing?”

“I still can’t understand why you are this nonchalant about your career,” he says and you shrug. 

“Bunny,” you warn, and Jungkook crosses his arms across his chest.

“Okay, yes,” he concedes. “Part of this is due to that. Because you didn’t tell me. But also I feel like I’m ruining your life. And if that’s the case, if I’m taking so much from you, I want to take less. I want to be less.”

“I’m a parasite. A leech. I consume human blood to carry on living my nonexistent life. I sleep but I don’t dream. I can’t enjoy things the same way. I can’t be normal and that’s what you deserve. What you need. So if I’m going to be a parasite and dependent on you, I want to make things easier. You mentioned that gift under the bed…and, I don’t know that started it all. Got me thinking about all the things I can’t give you. All the experiences you’ll never have because of me. But how much you want it. Valentine’s Day. Baby, I know it’s a holiday you like. I see your eyes sparkle every time you pass the decorations and candy at the store. Of course you have had a present for me wrapped and ready since Christmas, because that’s you and how incredible you are. And I wanted to give you some of that back, but the more I thought about it, the angrier I got that I can never be good enough for you. I can’t give you everything. And then this morning, I don’t know, I snapped. I tried to cook you something I normally can do with my eyes blindfolded and walking backwards but everything came toppling down around me and I got overwhelmed and ended up fucking it all up.” 

Jungkook reaches across the couch, taking your hand in his, tracing his thumb across your knuckles. 

“You’re so dramatic,” you accuse, and roll your eyes. 

Jungkook retracts his hand and pouts. “I don’t know what you mean by that.”

“You’re being dramatic and over the top with this broody Edward Cullen shit. I’m sick of it.” You toss the pillow to the side and sit up on the couch, edging your body closer. 

“For starters, you’re punishing yourself by not eating. Your hands are like ice, and that means you’re extremely underfed because very little blood is in you. Second, you refuse to eat because at first  it was someone else’s blood and I could get in trouble so that justified not doing it. But now that it’s freely available, because it’s mine you have some moral conniption preventing you from nourishing your body. And all of this is circling around the same problem. Which is you deciding for me what you think I want and need.” You hover just above him now, your knees digging into the cushions on either side of him as you trap him under you. 

“You decided wrong, by the way. You based what I want not on who I am, but on your own insecurities and fears about me, Jungkook. And that’s not fair to me.” 

You plant yourself down on him, straddling your weight across his chest. Jungkook gazes up at you, a frown still etched on his face, though it’s grown softer. 

“It’s also not fair to me that you are trying to control my decision about feeding from you or not. If you were a vegetarian, how would you feel if I had replaced your veggie burgers with meat patties just because I thought you needed the protein?” He asks.

You hadn’t thought about that. Your shoulders sag as you sit with the realization. 

“I need you to trust that I won’t ever go back to feeling the way I did when we first met. Look at me, are the marks under my eyes as dark? Am I as hard or pale?” You shake your head, and Jungkook reaches up to your face, touching his palm to your cheek. “I am thirsty, baby. But I also know how to control myself. I have spent months with you, around your blood, smelling you when you do something as little as get a paper cut or have a large blood clot pass during your period. Don’t look at me like that, it’s literally just blood from your body, you as a phlebotomist know better than to find that weird or gross.” You giggle, trying to ward away the flush of your cheeks. “And yes, it hurts, but kind of like when you smell something really good cooking in the kitchen and your stomach growls. But that’s the worst of it.”

“Is it though?” you ask gently, trying not to argue with him, but his eyes seem almost cloudy to you. 

His brows knit and he opens his mouth but then shuts it, nodding for you to continue. Instead, he strokes along your brow bone, then down the curves of your jaw, tracing your features with his index finger.

“Your eyes aren’t as clear as they are when you feed regularly,” you sigh sadly. “I don’t want to change you, at all. But you’re warmer then too. And on days like today, it would be nice to have you less frigid to cuddle up next to. But I don’t want to make you do something you don’t want to do. I was wrong to not tell you about my work stuff and my blood. Those are two big things that you deserve to know as my partner, and because they impact you directly. I’m sorry.” 

You take his hand in yours and bring it down over your chest. “If you don’t want to drink those blood packs, I understand. We’ll find some other way of getting you blood. But we need to make these decisions together. All of them. No more of us deciding we know what the other person needs best. That means I am not force feeding you my blood, I know. It also means you don’t get to decide if I want to have a biological baby or if I want to grow old with someone else.”

Jungkook contemplates this, and then nods in agreement. 

“Do you feel that?” You ask, glancing down to your chest, referring to your heart beat. 

“Yeah,” he whispers. 

“Good, because in all this, you keep saying you’re this monster and that can’t be further from the truth. Maybe I don’t need normal, because I don’t want normal. I want you. And I am alive and warm as a human is, sure. You insist you’re not alive. But what is life really? Do you need to be breathing and to have a beating heart like mine to experience love? Joy? The things that make up life? You feel me. Even if it’s all a habit now. The memory of your body, I don’t know. I don’t know how you work either but that doesn’t matter.”

“Do you need to have dreams or to eat chocolate or make babies to feel like you’re living, Jungkook? Because I don't think you do. I think your body and my body sitting here together, my heart pumping blood through me, more than I probably even need to keep me going, is more than enough for me. You loving me, I think that’s life. Is that not enough for you?”

Jungkook’s eyes are glassy, and he takes a deep breath, also probably out of habit more than necessity.  “No, it’s more than enough,” he says.  “I think this is life.”

You smile. “Okay, then let’s live. Let’s live like this. Whatever it is. And we can decide as we go what living looks like, alright?”

Jungkook releases his bottom lip from his fang. “Alright.”

You lean in, and Jungkook’s lips pull up into a smirk right before he kisses you, molding his body into yours with relief. 

You welcome his tongue into your mouth, surprised by how cold even that is. When you pull away to catch your breath, you pull yourself tightly against him. 

“We need to find you something to eat,” you say for what feels like the millionth time today, and Jungkook sighs. 

“Tomorrow, okay? I just want to be close to you right now.” He burrows deeper into your t-shirt and you hum in agreement, letting the soft animal of his body feel like home.

The rest of the day, the two of you drift back into the softer and more familiar patterns of your relationship that the last week has disrupted. 

Jungkook cooks you dinner, properly this time, a steak you wash down with a beer, the two of you discussing your friends and the latest episode of the show you finally have caught up watching, the tense air between you two perhaps not entirely diffused, but ultimately much more at ease than before. 

You choose to not address the moment in your peripheral vision when you see Jungkook gnawing on some bloody gristle that he trimmed off the steak, his brows set in dissatisfaction as he tries to replace some of the nutrients he’s craving. 

He’s thirstier than he’s admitting, you know, but you are trying to loosen the tight hold of control you are tempted to have. 

“Hey,” you say as you load your dirty dishes into the dishwasher. 

Jungkook, who is reading the beer founder’s story on the back of your empty can, perks up, curious.

“Do you want to open your present?” you ask, and can’t help but laugh at the way his face lights up at the suggestion. 

“Oh my god, yes! I've been dying to know what it is since Christmas!” He beams, and before you can even move to go get it from under your bed, he’s gone, shuffling around down the hallway and cooing to Buttercup, who has just finished her own dinner. 

When he reappears, he puts the gift on the counter and looks at you sheepishly. 

“Um,” he says, and you can tell he’s desperately trying to be polite and well behaved like a small child on their birthday. 

You snort. “Open it, Bunny.” 

Jungkook rips right into the paper, his jaw dropping. “You! This?”

You watch as he takes off into the living room to disassemble the current turntable setup. 

“Goodbye Old Play, Fall Down Boy, and Alicia Broken Piano Keys,” he sing-songs. “Damn, when was the last time we had music around here?” 

You watch him putter around. 

This, you think, could be a good life. 

Lying in bed, you drift between a dreamstate and your overactive brain trying to process your reality. Thoughts of your job, more specifically what you’ll do if you actually are fired filter through your head. You suppose you’d change careers, but this job has always been the one thing you wanted in life, at least before you had Jungkook. 

Between a body heat barrier of blankets and pillows, you toss yourself around and sigh, finally coming to a state of being fully awake. Jungkook shifts across the pile to alert you that he, too, is awake. 

“What’s wrong, baby?” he asks gruffly, and you grunt as you roll over. 

“Can’t sleep,” you whine, and you move one of the pillows shoved between the two of you out of the way so you can see his face in the dark. 

The soft glow of the outside city lights shifts through the window, casting a hint of pale blue light across his face. Like this, he looks more wan, sallow, and your heart wrenches. God, it’s so hard to see him this way, starving himself, and you know you shouldn’t feel guilty, but with the day behind you, you feel the late-night flood of regret starting to taint your mind as you try to figure out how you let this all go so horribly wrong.

“Busy mind?” He asks, and you blink up at him, a little surprised by how it seems as though he’s reading your thoughts. 

“Yeah.”

“Me too,” he grumbles, and then reaches out to pull you into him, his cold hands in an even colder room sending a tremor through your body. 

“God, I’m sorry,” he says, and you clench your teeth. 

“ s’okay” you mumble, and you push your face into his chest to warm your nose in his hoodie, throwing your leg over him to bring you closer. 

Jungkook gently rubs your back, his touch light as his fingers trace up and down your spine. It tingles, sending a shiver that hardens your nipples. 

“What were you thinking about?” he asks after a long pause. 

You could lie, and then you wouldn’t have to worry that Jungkook would be awake all night carrying your baggage for you. But, you know how important this step of honesty is, so you take a deep breath. 

“I-I just keep thinking about work. What’s going to happen? I don’t regret it, please don’t think I do or misunderstand. But I love my job. I love you more. It just feels all convoluted and scary. If I get fired, how will we afford this apartment? Find your blood?”

You feel Jungkook take a steep inhale, and you know he’s doing this to steady you, that his lungs don’t really need to expand but to breathe next to him, with him, is what feels the most natural to you both. 

“Baby, I’m sorry,” he says, and you fight the urge to cry for the third time today. 

“I know it’ll be okay,” you assure him, “but I’m sad anyway.”

His fingers continue to strum along your spine, soothing you in the quiet winter night. At some point Buttercup gets up to go prowl around the apartment in her usual late-night zoomies, leaving you two alone in your little universe. 

“I’ve been thinking a lot tonight, too,” Jungkook mumbles into the dark. 

“About what,” you whisper. The wind outside kicks up, and you feel a sharp draft cut against your now-bare legs, beading you with goosebumps that make you shiver. 

Jungkook tuts, shifting you to his side momentarily so he can reach down and pull up your thick duvet. You relish the return to warmth and lay back down on him, resting your head onto his chest while letting out a satisfied sigh.

“Feeding,” he says casually, but you can still hear the hunger in the word as he pronounces every syllable sharply. A different kind of tremor rocks through you, and you feel a tug of arousal behind your belly button. 

“Oh,” you say, trying to be unaffected, but Jungkook sees right through you and chuckles. 

“The first time I tasted your blood, you don’t even know what it did to me, Y/N,” he groans.

“It felt like every single dead neuron in my body was firing all at once again. I’ve never experienced anything like it. You were so warm, your blood was so thick on my tongue. I knew I was going to crave you for the rest of my, well I guess, existence.” 

You squirm a little, trying to ignore the slight dampness you feel forming between your legs. 

“Then, god, I thought I was going crazy when you were feeding me those blood packs. That I had wanted the taste of you so badly that I was imagining it somehow from knowing the way you smell.” 

He continues. “I know I told you that I have control, but fuck, baby, you almost destroyed me with that little stunt of yours.” 

Jungkook shifts, and you can feel his hardening length brush against your stomach. His thigh butts up against you, and you know he can feel the effect he’s having on you. 

“How?” you ask weakly, and Jungkook flexes his thigh underneath you, putting a little pressure right onto your clit. The whine you’ve been suppressing escapes, needy and rich. 

“I almost caved. One night while you were sleeping, Thought about waking you up by fucking you with my tongue so I could finally taste you again.” Jungkook’s cock twitches underneath you and you rut against him in response, the heat in your core building. “Shit, you were even sleeping with your legs wide open for me, your panties and those tiny fucking things you call pajamas shifted and your pretty little pussy was right there for me to taste. Practically begging me for it.” 

You rock against Jungkook’s thigh, the broad grind of your wet panties against Jungkook’s thigh releasing some of the tension. 

“Oh,” you moan softly, but Jungkook isn’t done talking, and he ignores you as his hands come up to your ass, his cold touch on your cheeks causing you to squeak as he pulls them apart to force you to rut harder, deeper onto him. 

“I can smell you right now,” he says roughly. “You can’t hide it from me, you know. Your blood, your wet pussy, they’re equally delicious to me. Equally mine.” 

You moan as he forces you back and forth on his thigh. “You like that, don’t you? The idea of me devouring you like that? Waking you up with my mouth swirling around that hard clit, have you drooling and begging for my cock before you even know what day it is?”

“Shit, yes. Yes,” you pant, and Jungkook laughs, grasping your panties with his fingers and pulling tight. The fabric shifts, digging onto your swollen clit, blurring your vision from the sharp, deep wail.

“Such a dirty fucking girl, humping me like this. Letting me use you like this. What happened to my good girl, hm? Where’d my baby go?” 

You know the question is rhetorical, but you find yourself entering the familiar, delicious haze you often go to with Jungkook, one that has been trained to answer every question he asks. 

“Still your baby,” you whine, and Jungkook laughs. 

He reaches down, tearing your panties off of your body with a single tug, exposing your wet pussy to the chill of the air.

“Oh really? You’re my baby? I don’t know about that. My baby usually has her mouth around my cock by now.” 

Obediently, you sit up, tugging your shirt over your head, your nipples hard and sensitive from your arousal. Jungkook groans as he takes in the view of your naked body, but before he can act, you hastily strip him of his hoodie and shorts to reveal his naked length. 

Jungkook’s cock stands tall and heavy, and as you take it into your hands, you don’t mention how that, too, has become incredibly cold from his thirst. Maybe this hunger could be soothing in summer, but in midwinter, it is going to drive you insane. 

You pull him into your mouth, determined to imprint some of your body heat onto him as you dribble your warm saliva down his shaft with a deep suck. 

Jungkook moans above you, tangling his fingers into your hair in approval. 

“Fuck, yes, Y/N. God.” 

You use one of your hands to cup his balls, enjoying the heft of how full they are before stroking up and down the parts of his cock that you can’t take into your mouth. 

“There she is,” Jungkook sighs, and you relax your jaw so you can take more of him in, edging his tip down your throat. He bucks up, and you gag, feeling the familiar tang of him spread across your tongue. Globs of saliva bubble out of your mouth as you attempt to fight the urge to gag more from his occasional thrusts. 

“There’s my baby. My little cockslut. Fuck, I missed this.” You hum in agreement and Jungkook gasps at the vibration. He grabs your head, stopping you from bobbing. 

“Shit…fuck baby, hold on. Stop. God, I almost just came,” he laughs, and your lips twitch as you slowly pull away from him, strings of spit still connecting you to his thick cock. 

You look up at him as he steadies himself, smiling up at him devilishly.

Feeling naughty, you lean forward, testing the waters as you tongue around the head, taking one final, deep suck. Jungkook’s eyes darken in warning and you giggle, sitting back on your heels as you smile at him with fake innocence. 

“Brat,” he mutters, and shoves you down onto the bed, his lips on yours before you can even breathe, tasting himself in the corners of your mouth with feral need. 

He pulls away, tapping your knees with instruction to open, and you do, propping your head up on a pillow so you can see everything. 

The curve of his nose rocks against your clitoris as he begins, and because Jungkook knows you so well, his hands clamp down on your legs to prevent you from squirming. You feel him dig one hand into your thigh, a warning not to try to take control, and you force yourself to relax as he begins exploring you, sucking one of your swollen labia into his mouth. 

You groan, the slow method of him licking and sucking, moving down and up between the inner corners of your thighs back to your center feels both like heaven and absolute hell. 

You have the urge to whine, to shove your hips up, maybe your neglected clit will get more attention, but you know better. Jungkook is testing you, trusting you in this moment not to fail him. 

His eyes meet yours as feasts, the bruises under his eyes more dark now than they were earlier. Between the maddening, erotic swishes of his tongue against your clitoral hood and smug look on his face, you’ve had just about enough.

“Hasn’t anyone ever told you not to play with your food,” you snap, and surprised, Jungkook pulls back, his wet cheeks and wide smirk indicating how satisfied he is with his torture.

“No,” he says, licking his lips. His fangs peek out from under his lips. “But I think my food really likes it when she has to work for it.” 

You roll your eyes, and he brings his fingers to your clit, pinching it. You gasp.

“Did you just roll your eyes at me?” He scolds, and again you lose the urge to disobey. 

You feign an apologetic look and buck your hips at him.

“Such a fucking bad girl today,” he chides. “If you’re not careful, I won’t let you cum. I’ll just use you like my little cumdump and you’ll have to figure out how to get off on your own.” 

You shudder at his words and his shoulders straighten, satisfied with his apparent win. 

“What do you say?” he asks, tracing one finger along your ridges. 

You feel yourself trembling as his soft touch swirls around where you need it most, a frustrating, dizzy fury building in you.

“Jungkook, please.” 

“That’s not the word I’m looking for.” His voice is dark, heavy in the cold of the room. Desperation is blinding you, only allowing you to think in fragmented sentences. 

“I don’t know,” you whine, and you feel a hard slap hit directly onto your clit, sending a shock of pain and delicious pleasure through your body. 

“Liar,” he snorts, and then rubs your wetness to soothe the ache. “You have a big girl brain, Y/N. I know you know what you need to say.” He dips a finger inside of you, you clench. “Or are you already too fucked out and needy to say it?” 

Heat shades your face in embarrassment. Any other day, maybe, you’d challenge this, let him chip away at you until you are babbling and a mess underneath him. But the swell of heat in your core is pulsing what feels like everywhere in your body, including your head, and you rack your brain for the one word you know he’s looking for. 

You pull a sharp breath between your teeth. “I’m sorry.”  

“Good girl, I knew you could do it,” he says, and then he shoves his face into your cunt, more fingers dipping into your entrance. He begins to stretch you, pulling his fingers apart, urging more of your wetness to spill onto his tongue. “So sweet.” 

Your hips twitch in the air and you fight to keep them down now that one side of you is freed, so you concentrate on him, pushing his hair back from his forehead as he devours you. 

Jungkook’s eyes are so dark, pupils blown wide. And in them you see something more than just lust. 

I’m thirsty, he’s telling you, the lines faint, but still there. He sucks hard onto your clit, a low sound tearing through his throat. 

He’s asking you for permission, grazing his fangs along your inner lips, trying desperately to restrain himself as the hand still wrapped around your thigh tightens with a bruise-inducing pressure. 

Then eat, you tell him mentally, your tongue darting out of your mouth to lip your lips as you watch him get lost in his instincts. You hum your approval, thrusting your hips forward and shoving his head further into you. 

“Yes,” you rasp, finding enough air in your lungs to puff out your consent. 

Jungkook moans and you watch the resolve break as he delivers one final satisfying lap over your clit before he bites.

Nothing In your life could ever prepare you for this.

That part of you, the very organ having the most nerve endings, is alive and electric, burning hot as if you are the sun, the center of the universe. And Jungkook is orbiting around you, grounded by the gravity of your blood as he feeds from your pussy, groaning and bucking his hips in pleasure against the bed. A whimper churns from the depths of your throat as you writhe under him. The heat, god it’s everywhere, from the slight sting of the bite melting away from your core to the heady, steady throb of your clit that makes you feel your pulse everywhere. 

Jungkook too, is warming underneath you, the chill of his body flushing away with each feverish gulp he takes. His cheeks are slightly pink again.

“So wet, so good,” he praises you as he swallows, and you see the blood smearing across his cheeks as he dips back into you. 

“Fuck, Jungkook,” you say shakily. His tattooed hand leaves your thigh, reaches up, searching for you in his feast. You don’t hesitate to lace it with yours, your hands a little clammy, but you’re afraid that if you don’t hold on to him, you might be lost among the stars. 

He drags one of his fangs along the edge of your clitoral hood, and flicks your swollen bud with his tongue, self assured in your destruction. Your legs begin to close, but he growls. 

“Don’t you fucking dare,” he warns. His fingers press deeper inside you, thrusting toward the burning in your core that feels like it’s just out of reach. “You asked for this, now take it.”

“I can’t,” you say. “I can’t.” You thrash your head to the side, gaze unfocused as you take in the shapes around your bedroom you know once were pieces of furniture, but the combination of blood loss and building ecstasy has you feeling like you’re almost drifting from your body. 

Jungkook clicks his tongue in dissatisfaction. “Look at me, Y/N,” he demands. 

You force your eyes to him, and he instructs you to take a deep breath. You inhale shakily, letting him come into focus. 

“You’re going to take my tongue. And then you’re going to take my fingers until you cum all over my face.” He makes his threat official, presses deep inside of you, thrusting deeper, toward the burning in your core that feels just out of reach. “And then you’re going to take my fat cock into my pretty little pussy and watch the cum drip out of it after I fuck you full of it, do you understand me?” 

You tremble as he claims you. “Yes,” you reply and he leans in closer, thrusting his fingers in harder as you rock your hips toward him. 

“Good,” he says. “Then give me what’s mine.” You feel him nip into you again, throwing you over with one deep suck.

You cry out, your hips twitching into the cold room, heaving deep broken gasps into your lungs, head spinning as you obey him. Your ears ring as you fall deeper under the wave, but you still feel Jungkook’s hand in yours, tender and encouraging as you force yourself back from beneath the current of your orgasm. 

You try to steady your breath as you feel his drinking slow, his tongue placing a few laps here and there around your vulva in a gentle motion as he pulls himself away. 

“Are you okay,” you hear him ask, though your eyes are trained on the ceiling as you try to stop yourself from seeing double. “Did I take too much?”

You’re not sure, to be honest, but you feel the warmth of Jungkook’s body cover you as he looks you over, feeling your pulse. 

“Your heart is starting to slow down,” he says softly. “Can I leave you for a second to get some water?” 

You make some kind of grunt of approval, and you feel him drape your covers back over you as he pads down the hall to sift through the kitchen. 

He returns only a few moments later, a bottle of water and bag of heart shaped chocolates in hand. 

You take the water from him and sip slowly, feeling the cool liquid soothing your hoarse throat, stabilizing you. You pop a chocolate into your mouth, the sugars melting your tongue tasting decadent. 

When you finally glance over at Jungkook, you erupt into laughter. 

“What?” he asks, his doe eyes going wide with panic. “Are you hurt? Are you okay?” 

You fail to collect yourself, wheezing your breaths as tears burn your eyes. Maybe you did lose a bit too much blood, because it shouldn’t be as funny as it is, but he looks so full and flushed and innocent in light of what might just be the kinkiest thing the two of you have ever done. 

His face is an utter mess, cheeks shiny and smeared with the faint pink of your mixed juices and blood. He looks like a child who just ate a cherry flavored popsicle.

“I-go look in the mirror,” you say between fits of laughter, and Jungkook looks at you confused before he obeys, standing and walking over to the full-length mirror in the corner of the room. 

“Oh shit,” he mumbles, then laughs. “Looks like I was saving myself a snack for later.” He reaches for a tissue from on top of his dresser and wipes his mouth. 

“How can you not feel that all over you?” you ask, coughing when you finally recover. 

“I don’t know! My brain isn’t focused on anything else right now but you! Well, you and…” he gestures down between his legs, where his cock is flushed from the blood, twitching as you give it attention. 

You feel a flutter in your core and let out a soft gasp.

“But really, are you okay?” he asks tenderly, sitting back onto the bed and rubbing your thigh. 

You scan over your body, checking in with yourself. You don’t feel woozy or nauseous, just loose, like how most large scale orgasms feel. Your thigh you know will be bruised tomorrow, but it’s nothing you can’t handle. And your clit, oh. 

Your clit is tingling, and your pussy is dripping wet. 

“Fuck,” you moan, and run your hand down between your legs and press your palm to your clit, enjoying the added pressure as it throbs under your touch. 

Jungkook raises an eyebrow, interested in your response.

You swipe your fingers through your folds and then pull them up. Surprisingly, the liquid is clear, meaning you’re not bleeding. Meaning that this dripping want is coming solely from you. 

“What did you do to me?” You ask, and Jungkook’s eyes flash with worry as he moves closer, pulling your thighs open to inspect you. 

“I hurt you?” he asks, panicking as he misunderstands. “God, I’m sorry Y/N.”

“No, no, baby, not like that,” you say, and you feel his hands fall from you as he moves to look at your face. 

He scrunches his nose in confusion. “Then what–.”

“My pussy is tingling, and fuck look at me. I’m drenched.”

His eyes blow wide and he dips to look back down, his tongue darting out over his lip piercings as he takes in the liquid spilling out of you and onto the sheets underneath. 

“Shit. I don’t know. Maybe my venom does that? I don’t even see a cut on you from where I bit.”

He sits back on his legs and his hand finds his cock, squeezing the base as he flits between looking at you and in between your legs. 

You clench around nothing and a low, tortured moan escapes from his throat as he draws his hand up the base, wrist flicking to pump himself up and down in slow, delicious tugs.

“Y/N,” he says, and the way he says your name is dripping with need. You feel his eyes burn into every inch of you as he touches himself, causing you to mimic the fluidity of his strokes as you rub your clit. 

“Please,” you respond. 

“Cum for me again,” he demands but you shake your head. 

“Don’t want to like this,” you say. “Want your cock in me. You promised you would let me watch your cum spill out of your pretty pussy, remember?”

His nostrils flare, and Jungkook jolts, flipping you over on the bed so you rest on top of him, his hard cock smearing with your wetness as he rocks your hips against him. 

“We need to do something about that filthy mouth of yours,” he says, and you pant as you grind against him with broad movements, coating him with your juices. “The only time you haven’t said something bratty today was when my cock was down your throat.”

You moan, raising your hips off of his and taking his cock in hand. “You love it,” you say, and sink yourself down onto him in one solid motion, his thick length stretching and filling you to the brim. 

He hisses and you begin to bounce, using him to curb some of the ache in your core. 

He reaches up and wraps a hand around your throat, squeezing. You squeak, feeling him pull you off of his cock, and leaving you devastatingly empty. 

“Did I say you could fuck me?”

You whine and he scoffs. “Maybe you don’t deserve my cum after all. Disobeying me like this. I told you earlier I wondered where my good girl went, and I think I was right. Didn’t know I traded her in for a disrespectful bitch.”

You feel your stomach flip with excitement at the new term and you clench around him. 

He laughs. “Oh? You like that, hmm? Well, if I traded away my good girl, I better see how much of a whore her replacement is.” 

He lightens his grip on your neck and the oxygen floods back, making your fingertips and nipples prickle with the heightened sensation. 

“Well? Get to it, slut.” and he takes your hips, slamming you back down onto his cock with one single stroke. 

“FUCK,” you scream, and your hips buck, overstimulated as Jungkook doesn’t even give you the chance to have control, his hands clamping down on your sides as he fucks you onto him. 

“That’s it,” he rasps. “That’s it, take my cock like a good little slut.” 

You cry out, clamping your arms around him and pulling his face into your neck. 

“Jungkook,” you say, and he grunts in response, pounding into you with a rhythm so that when you come down, he pushes up, hitting you deeper with each thrust. 

“You like that, huh? Being like little fleshlight? Me using you like this to fuck all my cum into?”

You clench around him, slightly light headed from where he’s targeting you, trying to hit your g-spot dead on. 

It’s so good, so primal, and you know you’re almost there, but you need something more. 

“Please,” you whisper, shoving his head into your neck. “Bite me.” 

And that’s when you feel it, the tiny prick of his fangs as Jungkook pierces your skin and begins to feed. 

Sharp cold pressure is immediately replaced with a silky, scorching wave of pleasure as his venom delivers that addicting tingle through your neck.

Jungkook, too, seems to be affected, his cock twitches in you as the blood fills his body, somehow making him feel thicker and a little longer. 

“Oh,” you gasp as you feel the fingers of one of Jungkook’s hands reach down to your clit, rubbing it hard and fast. 

He detaches himself from your neck and laps up the excess blood before he holds you steady and adjusts your position, placing you on your back as he hovers above you. 

The cloudiness in his eyes is gone, the markings underneath have faded. He settles into slow, deep strokes, his eyes ghosting over your body. 

“I love you,” he says. Your heart swells. 

“I love you too,” you respond, and you look down at where the two of you are connected, your pussy making a vulgar squelching sound as he drags himself in and out, his cockhead glossy.

“More,” you beg. “Please I’m so close”. He obeys, picks up his pace. 

He bends over you, pulling a nipple into his mouth and releasing it with a pop. 

“Should I bite you here next?” he mumbles and you squirm in delight.

Each thrust is now jutting Jungkook right against your cervix, and you feel the wet mess of your pussy trying and failing to take more of his cock inside, relishing the warmth that now reaches every corner of you. 

As you flutter around him, the mounting tension drawing you closer to orgasm, Jungkook dips down again, this time laving over your nipple, plucking it between his teeth and delivering a soft bite.

This sends you over the edge, a stream of white hot pleasure rocketing through your core as you gasp on top of him, your pussy clamping down and trying desperately to take him with you. 

But Jungkook has better control than that, and instead of letting you rest, he sets a deadly, relentless pace, fucking you into overstimulation. 

“One more,” he breathes between thrusts.

“Hurts,” you pout, but he knows you. Knows your limit.

“One more. I know your messy little cunt can take more than this, baby.”

He spreads you wider, hooking your legs back so he's deeper in you than before, the wet slap of his balls against your pussy echoing through your bedroom as you are coated with your wetness. 

You groan and he keeps going, his fingers ghosting over your clit once but not staying. You huff in frustration. 

“Words,” Jungkook demands and you take a deep breath, trying to rack your brain for something other than moans. 

“Yeah,” is all you can manage, and with a dark laugh, he accepts it, placing his fingers back on your clit and finally, finally putting you back on track. 

“Fuck, you feel so good,” he utters, and this is how you know he’s getting close. The praise flowing from his mouth betrays his cold, dominating facade. “Such a warm, wet pussy. Just for me to fuck my cum into.” He pulls his bottom lip into his mouth, sucking on his lip rings.

You moan, matching his thrusts with your hips, slamming yourself together harder, deeper. “God, Jungkook, please.”

“You gonna be good for me this time?” His Adam’s apple bobs in his throat as he swallows. The tone of his voice is slightly higher, straining. “Gonna let me fill you up?”

“Yes,” you pant. “I need it.” His fingers circle faster, desperately working to make you cum before him. “Need to be full of your cum.”

You pull him into you, needing him closer, needing to feel the distance between your bodies to be smaller as you get closer. His fingers keep working, his thrusts hard and deep, hitting you exactly where you need it. 

“Right there. Fuck your pussy, Jungkook. Take what’s yours.”

His hips falter. You place your teeth onto his neck and bite. Hard.

“Fuck,” Jungkook moans and erupts, his cock twitching as he spurts load after load of warm cum into you, giving you the last bit you need to send you off one last time. Your pussy spasms, greedily taking in everything he gives you. 

“That’s it, baby,” he says, his voice shaky as he continues to anchor both of you to your bodies, to the sensation of being full and satisfied.

He kisses your temple, then your cheek, rocking his hips slowly against you as you come down, flushed and overwhelmed. 

You feel almost weightless, untethered to the joints in your arms and legs. If you weren’t being held by him right now, you might think you were out in space, floating around without gravity. In the haze of it all, you feel Jungkook shift you onto your side, his body still linked to yours as his erection deflates, cum leaking onto the bedding below you. 

You don’t care enough to do anything about it, instead clinging to his forearm, needing to feel him everywhere so you don’t disappear. 

“Shh, shh, it’s okay,” he says, and you’re confused by this, and then you realize you’re crying, wet tears stinging your cheeks as you shake against him. He runs his hands through your hair and down the length of your back softly. “I got you.”

You breathe a shaky breath as he wraps the blankets around the two of you, gently humming a song, sighing when he feels you wiggle your toes next to him and finally steady yourself. 

You look up at him and he’s smiling softly, his eyes warm and brown like they were when you first met him. 

“That was intense, huh?” he asks and you nod. 

“But really good,” you add and he beams. 

“Yeah,” he agrees. “I…”

He sits thoughtfully for a moment and you let him, trying to gain the courage to detach yourself and venture into the cold apartment to pee. 

“I wish we did that sooner. I mean, I guess I should ask how that was for you. For me to, you know, feed from you.”

You wince as you shift away from him, feeling him slip out of you as you leak onto the sheets. Your sticky, damp legs beg for a shower, but you ignore it. 

“I…it was a lot. But…but I liked it. The first bite, shit. You explained earlier how it felt when you first tasted my blood? About it being like how everything fired off in your body at once, right?” He nods. “It was like that for me, too.”

Jungkook smiles, pulling you in tightly against him.  

“Do you think we can do that more often?” you ask shyly, and he laughs. 

“Damn, once is all it takes for you to get addicted?”

You smack his arm. “Hey! No kink shaming! I didn’t judge you for wanting to go down on me during my period! While I was asleep!” 

He sputters. “I’m not kink shaming! But you sound like you’re judging me now for it! We don’t have to do it if you don’t want to I’m sorry but I was caught up in the moment and the bloodlust and I was–”

You choke out a laugh, kissing him on his bare chest. “I’m teasing you...it sounds kind of hot actually.” 

He hums in approval. 

“I think we still have a lot of stuff to talk about,” he says after a pause. You sigh. 

“Yeah. The great job reckoning is coming.” 

“Yes, and not just that. I do want to talk more about you…your body. The…infertility thing. I want to go with you to the appointment, I mean if that’s okay? Even if everything is fine, or that you don’t end up wanting kids or whatever, I just want to be there for you through any of it, okay?”

You bristle a bit, feeling yourself starting to cry again. But after the day you’ve had, the intense, passionate sex, all of the things you will still be dealing with in the morning, you let the release guide you as your tears fall. 

“Okay,” you say. You think about your conversations with Jungkook today, how he’s right. There are so many things you both don’t know about what you want or don’t want, about your own bodies. 

“Um,” you say, and you pull back from him, rubbing up and down his forearms. “I want you to know something, too. I know that being a vampire wasn’t really in your life plans, and that there’s a lot of unknowns about it too. Not just about fertility, but like, it would have probably been nice for you to know you had magical tingly, healing venom that turns you into a sex god.”

“Hey! Was I not a sex god without the venom?” He scoffs, pretending to be offended. 

You snort. “Okay fine, healing venom that turns you from a sex god to even more of a sex god. But you know what I mean. There are things that would be so helpful for you to know. To maybe take away some of the worry and those terrifying unknowns. And if you ever want to know, if you want to try to find your creator, I’ll support you in that choice. It would be hard, and maybe we wouldn’t find him, but I’m with you in this.” 

Jungkook takes your cheek in his hand, his warm thumb rubbing across the skin. 

“Thank you,” he says, and leans in to give you a soft kiss. 

The world outside plunges deeper into the night, and after you clean yourselves up and change the sheets, you lie closely against each other. So many things remain unknown, but one thing you’re sure of as you watch Jungkook sleep: you have time to figure it all out. 

©2024 by jooniperbonsai

ending a/n:

Thank you again for reading! While doing research about blood donations for this story, I was reminded that there’s currently a national shortage for blood donors in the US, and it’s safe to assume that this isn’t unique to just us. Right now, with the ongoing genocide in Gaza, blood shortages are extreme, and with the stonewalling happening preventing aid to enter the strip and Rafah, supplies, including blood for life saving transfusions, cannot make it through. 

The Red Crescent/American Red Cross issued this statement in January:

“​​During emergencies, the American Red Cross will ship blood products outside of the U.S. following a specific request from the U. S. State Department for U.S. citizens overseas, at the request of the United Nations, or at the request of the affected Red Cross or Red Crescent society abroad. We have not received blood product requests for Israel or Gaza at this time.

For those interested in learning more about international humanitarian law and its vital role in protecting the innocent during armed conflict, please visit www.redcross.org/ihl. The American Red Cross has a duty to fulfill the Geneva Conventions’ purpose of reducing suffering during armed conflict. As part of our duty, the American Red Cross leads the effort to ensure Americans are informed of these laws and the humanitarian principles they reflect.”

While it’s not yet being asked for, I cannot recommend enough donating blood if you are eligible. There are many different qualifications for blood donations (if you’re not sure about your eligibility, please look at your Red Cross/Crescent website depending on your country). Your donation can help not just your local communities, but ultimately a population of people you might be unsure how to help. And if not, monetary donations are also accepted.

· · ─ ·✶· ─ · ·

Jeon Jungkook is so unbelievably hot. 

Though it’s not the kind that makes your eyes linger and your heart flutter. No, it’s nothing like that. He is so ridiculously attractive it leaves your pussy aching, clenching so hard around nothing you wish it’s him you bounce on until sunset blurs into sunrise. You almost feel your muscles physically hurt by how he’s always so close yet so far away when the only thing you desire is for the space between you to become a rhythm and draw you in until distance doesn’t really exist anymore.

But that doesn’t happen, that never happens when it’s Jungkook. 

He’s Jaehyun’s best friend– your older brother who loves you more than anything. Your brother who still babies you because you fell off your bike and broke your arm that one time when you were sixteen. Your brother who trusts Jungkook in that effortless, unquestioning way that only comes from years of knowing someone too well– because they’ve known each other since Jungkook knocked on your door when they were nine and you were six. He’d looked up at your parents with those big brown eyes of his and asked, so politely your mother still gushes about it at family gatherings, if he could play with your brother. 

That was all it took for Jungkook to stay. You remember how at first, it started with the small things. His shoes left by the door like the spot had been assigned to him, his voice echoing through the walls so often it soon blended into the background…Those little moments stretched into something bigger and bigger before you could even notice. And suddenly, he was there for everything. Anywhere from holiday dinners to summer getaways, Jungkook was always there. 

But he never gave you anything. 

Jaehyun is the kind of brother who treats every man like a problem, like a timed bomb ticking in the corner, patiently waiting for the right time to blow up into flames. He’s the kind of brother who lectures you about never trusting a guy, the kind who would show up at his door with something burning behind his eyes and a fist ready to throw. Not asking for questions, not looking for answers. 

If anything was to ever happen between you and Jungkook, Jaehyun wouldn’t just be mad. He’d fucking lose it.

So Jungkook has always kept his distance from you. 

He makes sure it’s not anything obvious, but it’s never enough for you to not notice either. The way he never stands next to you for too long, the way his hands stay to himself even when it’s not convenient, the way he looks at you just enough to acknowledge your presence, yet never enough to let it mean anything. He has always been controlled around you, way beyond measure and annoying as hell. 

Because you’ve seen him with other people. You’ve seen how he talks and how he laughs. He lets himself be less careful, less contained. Just more…him. And what bothers you the most isn’t that he ignores you, he never ignores you. 

Jungkook does notice you. You know it, he knows it, he definitely knows you know it too. But what’s so infuriating is the fact that he actively chooses not to react, not to acknowledge anything that comes in his way from you. It’s like he’s decided long ago that whatever line existing between the two of you is one he’s never willing to cross. Which would be fine if he wasn’t so damn irresistible. 

But he is.

And tonight, you’re a little more aware of it than usual. Maybe it’s the tight little dress that’s framing your body so well you had to twirl in front of the mirror more than once just to take it in, because it just looks that good. Or maybe, it’s something else entirely; one of those nights where whatever he usually holds so carefully contained inside sits a little closer to the surface than it normally does.

You don’t think too much of it as you step out of your room, walking down the hallway barefoot as you fix your earrings. A voice drifts away from the living room until it reaches your ears. You know the voice belongs to Jaehyun, he’s home, that’s not surprising. What’s surprising is that he’s not alone. 

You round the corner with your mind elsewhere, the only thought lingering on your mind being whether the shade of your lipstick is a little too dark or not. You’re already halfway into whatever you were going to say when you briefly pause by the mirror to smooth down your dress. 

“Hey, do you mind if–” You start, but you cut yourself off, because when you finally drift your eyes away from the hem of your skirt and lift them up, Jungkook’s reflection stares right back at you from behind. 

He’s leaning back against the couch comfortably, legs spread wide like he’s been there for so long his body has melted and molded into the cushion. One of his arms is thrown over the backrest as the other is holding a can of beer he’s not really drinking from. Jaehyun isn’t there with him for some reason, probably whipping something up in the kitchen even though he can't cook to save his life.

And when you turn around to face him fully, there’s a beat where his eyes move over you, all the way from the very top of your head to the bottom of your feet. You swear his eyes linger for a second too long on your chest before he drops them down and lets his mind register you properly. 

“Going somewhere?” He asks, one brow raised as he spreads his legs even further. 

You nod once, pretending to be mindless and nonchalant about it. “Just for drinks with some friends.” Technically, you’re going out with a friend. But before you can even think of elaborating on that further, Jaehyun walks in. And that’s all it takes for Jungkook to look away like it doesn’t mean anything. 

“Finally.” He scoffs before taking a large sip from his beer. “You take longer than anyone I know to get ready.” 

It takes half a minute of consecutive swift blinking for you to drag your attention away from Jungkook and pull yourself back together. “Relax.” You mutter when you’ve recollected your senses, rolling your eyes. “You’re not even coming with me.” 

“As if I’d want to.” He responds immediately. “I don’t want to deal with your friends.” 

“Hey!” You exclaim, pulling your browns together. “You like my friends.” 

“When they’re sober and quiet.” He corrects. 

You huff out a laugh, stepping further into the room, grabbing your purse from the table. “Liar.” 

“I never lie.” Jaehyun responds, making his way over to the couch before dropping himself down next to Jungkook. You shake your head with a light scoff, barely listening anymore, because Jungkook’s gaze is fixed on you once again and you don’t know if you can continue holding up this stupid act of nonchalance if he doesn’t tear his eyes away from you soon enough. 

“Text me when you get there.” Jaehyun reminds you for the third time today, and you nod along halfheartedly, checking your purse one last time for good measure.

“Yeah, okay. Promise.” 

“You better.” He mutters. 

You sling your bag over your shoulder, turning slightly just to sneak one last look at the man who’s managed to get your pussy tingling with so much as one look and two careless words. But when your gaze finds him and you realize he’s still looking at you, you think that maybe, he isn’t as untouchable as he makes it out to be.

He shifts under your presence, like your eyes weren’t something he expected to land a certain way yet did anyway, setting his drink down on the table as you move past him. The motion brings you close just enough, and his hand brushes against yours in passing. It’s light and fleeting, the kind of contact that normally would be dismissed in seconds. But you feel it all too clearly, so much that even after he pulls away, his fingertips linger on your skin in a way that burns until it leaves a permanent trace. 

Because he doesn’t pull away immediately, not fast enough like he usually does. There’s a fraction of a second where his fingers stay there before he retracts like he remembered it a little too late. 

And when you finally leave, Jungkook finds himself drowned inside the drunken haze of your sweet scent and the warmth of your presence– so strong that he physically feels the way it’s begging for him to follow. 

· · ─ ·✶· ─ · ·

The place Jaemin picked is one of those upscale cocktail bars where the wine is just so mediocre you’re forced to order overpriced cocktails instead. The lighting is warm and dim, because it always is in places like this– casting everything in a golden glow so that the glint makes it easier to ignore what doesn’t quite live up to the price tag. It’s busy just the way you like, filled with enough people to feel alive without being crowded.

Jaemin is already there by the time you reach the table that's reserved for you, leaning back into his seat like the air around him bends so intently that the place belongs to him. His legs are spread just a little wider than what’s acceptable, and the drink in his hand swings lazily from side to side like it’s been there for long with the sole purpose of giving him something to fidget with. 

He smirks immediately when you walk in. “There she is.” He sings, dragging his gaze over you before continuing. “You look…happy.” He says, cocking a brow like he’s questioning his own choice of words. 

You slide into the seat across from him, setting your bag onto the one next to you. “When am I not happy?” 

“This is like, when your hot friend from statistics called me cute, kind of happy.”

You scoff, reaching for the menu before letting your eyes scan through the list of beverages. “You threw a chair and got banned from the cafe you took her to.” 

Jaemin rolls his eyes. “I moved a chair.” 

“You threw it and it hit someone’s leg.” 

He pauses. “Not the point.” 

You giggle, placing the menu back onto the table. “Exactly the point, she got back together with her ex two days after your date.” 

He watches you for a second, then shakes his head. “God, you’re exhausting.” 

“And,” You start, dragging the word. “You still text me every day.” 

“What can I say, you’re a part of my routine.” Jaemin winks at you before turning his head to call over a waiter. When he comes by, you order a cocktail too pink to be taken seriously, and Jaemin asks for a kind of whiskey you’re sure tastes even worse than its name. Because no one really enjoys whiskey, it’s just for show.  A whole performance created by men trying to match up to their fragile egos. Not that you're saying Jaemin fits the profile. 

He leans forward when the waiter walks away. “Alright.” He says. “What did you do?” 

You tilt your head, pretending to think. “I didn’t exactly do something.” 

He gives you an unimpressed look. “And you expect me to believe that?”

“Yes!” You exclaim. “I really didn’t do anything. He just…slipped.”

“Who?” He pulls his brows together. “Don’t tell me this is about Jungkook again.” 

You lean back into your seat, unable to help the mischievous smile spreading across your face. Jaemin groans when it clicks, realizing exactly what you’re talking about. “No he didn’t.” He says matter of factly. 

You met Jaemin your freshman year of high school, and you slipped in each other’s spaces so easily you don’t even remember how. Just that by the time it mattered, he was already there. In your messages at ungodly hours, in the best parts of your worst days, in the middle of things he had no reason to involve himself in but did anyway. 

And at some point, without either of you really saying it out loud, you built something strong enough to stay and fight for.

So naturally, Jaemin knows Jungkook. How he moves, how he talks, how careful he is without making it obvious— only when it comes to you. He knows the version of him that exists around your brother; easy, controlled, and distant just enough to never cause any problems. 

So when you say that Jungkook slipped, he knows exactly what you mean, even though he would never grant you the pleasure of being right. But most importantly, he knows that if you're bringing it up like this, something has actually shifted. 

“He did.” You say without an ounce of hesitation. “He looked at me like he…forgot everything. Like there was a feeling he’d been suppressing and he forgot why for a second." You pause, sipping your drink. "And!" You exclaim like you forgot to add something so crucial. "His hand brushed mine and he didn't pull away." You argue. 

Jaemin sinks deeper into his seat. “Can we please move on from that man? Jungkook doesn’t slip, that’s literally his thing. I can set you up with Mark, if you want. Saw his dick once in the lockers and let me tell you, he’s huge.” 

Your lips pull into a pout. “I don’t want Mark, I want Jungkook.” 

Jaemin exhales through his nose before taking a large gulp from his drink. “Let’s say you’re right, Jaehyun would fucking kill you.” 

You shrug, mindlessly tracing your nail along the rim of your glass. “We’ll figure that out, I just wanna see how far it goes. What it takes for him to lose control." 

“You’ve liked him way too long for this to end well.” 

You scoff. “I do not like him.” 

Jaemin deadpans. “You used to sit on the stairs just to watch him and your brother play video games.”

“That's because I wanted to hop on his bones.” You argue.

He lifts a brow accusingly. “When you were fifteen?”

You pause for a second, tongue poking the inside of your cheek as you watch over your friend. “Fuck you.” You mutter under your breath.

You breathe again before leaning forward slightly, lowering your voice just enough. “You’ve seen him, Jaemin. He’s always so– so put together. Like nothing touches and sticks to him enough.” 

“Yeah.” Jaemin nods. “Because he’s not stupid.” 

The corner of your mouth twitches. “And it’s my duty to fuck up his morals.” 

He exhales sharply, shaking his head. “You’re gonna drag me into this, aren’t you?”

“You’re already in it." You smile at him innocently, bating your eyelashes. “You’re gonna sit next to me and look pretty." 

“Wow, the way you love me.” 

You wink at him, sipping your drink and letting the bitter taste of alcohol burn in your mouth. "Always." 

“God,” He mutters. “You’re gonna fuck this up.” 

Your lips twitch. “I’ll snap you a pic when he spreads his legs for me.” 

“Please don’t.” 

· · ─ ·✶· ─ · ·

The opportunity presents itself on a silver platter.

You’d be stupid to not take it. Not when you’ve gotten him somewhere hot, wet and messy without even meaning to, as if the universe already knows exactly what you’re about to do with it. 

You're stretched out on one of the chez-longs by the pool, body wrapped in the tiniest set of white bikinis in your wardrobe. That was definitely a lucky guess— a hot one to say the least. You're laying on your stomach with a book resting open in your hands with the sole purpose of being there, because you've read no more than two or five pages during the whole hour you spent here.

You had set the day aside and spared it for yourself— silenced your phone, shut everyone out, forced your mind into a kind of quiet that had no way out unless you tried hard enough. You had cleared everything until there was nothing to think about, nothing pulling at you from somewhere with something you didn't choose.

But it doesn't last.

The sliding door cuts through the quiet when you expect it the least, and when it opens, it brings Jaehyun with it. He walks in a way that's loud, careless, and already mid conversation with a couple of his friends trailing behind him. 

And Jungkook too, of course. 

You lower your book, push yourself onto your elbows, and then lift your sunglasses up into your hair. The exasperated breath you huff out goes unnoticed by both your brother, and his ridiculously loud friends as their voices swallow it up without wasting a second. 

"Wow," You mutter, tilting your head to take a look at them. "Great."

Jaehyun spots you immediately. “Oh, you’re here.” 

You scrunch your face a little, blinking up at him, shielding your face from the sun with a help of your hand even though it doesn't exactly work wonders. “I live here.” 

“Right.” He says mindlessly. “Didn’t think you’d be outside.” 

You scoff. “Clearly.” 

After your exchange, Jaehyun walks over the lounge chairs across from you, tossing his towel onto one of them like there isn't enough for everyone and they're something to call dibs on. When in reality, they aren't. One of his friends, one you only vaguely recognize, blows out a low whistle as he walks by.

"Damn," He says, not even trying to be subtle about it. "Didn't know he had a sister like that."

Luckily, Jaehyun doesn't hear it, too busy arguing with Mingyu about sunscreen brands like either of them know what they're talking about.

But Jungkook does. 

His head turns— maybe not immediately, maybe you're giving yourself too much credit and your imagination has started playing games on you— but you swear it does. His eyes narrow at his friend for a second too long before landing on you. And this time, you're sure there's something there. You're sure that if you were exaggerating and reading too much into every small detail last week, you aren't now.

His eyes linger on you as the oil you had put on catches the sunlight in a way that's impossible to ignore. The soft sheen traces every line and every curve of your body, shifting with movement until it reflects straight into his eyes.

Jungkook really doesn't mean to look. But the way the light hits your body— which he swears is literally the epitome of beauty— pulls in his attention without asking for permission. Suddenly, he's seeing too much and the tent in his shorts is growing and growing until the fabric tightens around his length and he can't bear doing nothing about it.

Though what really gets him isn't only how good you look— because that has always been a problem. It's how you exist in it so easily, so comfortable in the artwork dressed as your body. As his gaze dances over you, his head keeps spinning and spinning and suddenly, words he can never say out loud build at the tip of his tongue. 

You're a fucking temptation. 

You’re in the middle of flipping a page you haven’t been reading when his voice cuts in. “Didn’t know you’d be here.” 

You glance up again. “And I didn’t know you were coming over.” 

He shrugs. “Jaehyun asked.”

You nod slowly, pursing your lips. “I figured.”

There’s a beat filled with silence, one that stretches a little too long, one that leads you to realize he won’t be the first one to break it. So you turn over and sit up fully, setting your book aside. “Are you gonna get in or keep standing there?” You ask lightly.

But it takes him longer than a minute to hear the question. Because as you sit up and your front faces him, Jungkook feels the air knocking out of his lungs.

Your tits.

They sit so round and perky under the thin fabric of your bikini top. The white colour extenuates the soft swell of your boobs perfectly and Jungkook can't help but wonder what else would paint them white like this. As if things couldn't get worse for him, your tits bounce slightly when you move, and Jungkook fucking loses it.

He huffs a quiet breath in hopes of masking the ethical dilemma he's got going on inside. “Don’t really feel like it.”

You hum softly, dragging your gaze over him. “Well,” You start. “That’s too bad.”

His brows pull together. “Why?”

You give him a calculated smile, letting the moment sink in before answering. “You’d be fun to watch.”

You see the way your words land immediately– that almost-reaction he covers before it reaches too far. “Yeah?” He says, voice lower now, unable to help himself. “You watch everyone like that?” 

You shrug. “Only the ones nice to look at.”

He huffs out a soft scoff under his breath before reaching for the hem of his shirt, then pulls it off in one swift motion. You try to keep your expression neutral. And you swear, you really do. But when he looks like that, it’s impossible. 

Because Jungkook looks ridiculous like this, chest toned and bare and so fucking hot. He looks like someone who jumped out of your dirtiest fantasies and landed straight in your aching pussy. Your muscles grow sore despite having laid down all morning and you have to physically stop yourself from drooling and licking along the lines framing his abs. 

At the end of the day, you're just a girl who knows what she likes. Sue you. 

You exhale softly through your nose, shaking your head mindlessly like it doesn’t matter, like you don’t want to jump and bounce on him until his shape is permanently engraved in you. “Real subtle.” 

He glances at you, cocking a brow. “You asked.” 

You tilt your head. “I wouldn’t say asked is the correct word.”

“You’re welcome anyway.” He says, tossing his shirt beside you.

You laugh, pushing yourself up from the sunbed. “You’re so annoying.” So annoyingly hot.

When you’re finally standing, he’s so close you don’t hear whatever bullshit Jaehyun yells from the pool. Shut up, brother. Your girl is standing on business.

You step forward towards the edge of the pool when the lack of distance starts feeling like you want to drop down to your knees and take him into your mouth until he's whining and crying. Because it's one thing to be aware of his presence, but a whole another thing to feel the warmth of him sizzling through your bones.

You crouch down, dragging your hand along the water. "You getting in?" You ask, glancing up at him.

Jungkook lets out a breathy chuckle, gives you one final look, and before you know it, he's jumping straight into the pool. Water rises fast the moment his body drops in, splashing and hitting your skin in cool droplets.

Jungkook shakes his head, dragging a hand over his face. "Happy?" He asks, looking at you behind wet curls as he brushes them away from his face.

Oh the sight he is. 

You tilt your head, looking down at him as you narrow your eyes teasingly. “A little.”

Before you can move, his hand catches your wrist and pulls you forward. You lose your balance and a sharp splash cuts through your body, skin burning with the unexpected hit. And suddenly, all you can feel is the cold chill of water rushing up your spine mixed with the warmth of his body.

Shit.

When you open your eyes, you realize you're fully pressed against him. Your arms instinctively wrap around his shoulders and your legs around his waist before you have the chance to realize what's happening.

For a second, it's like the earth stops rotating— like it forgets to revolve around the sun and time forgets to move along with it. The water ripples slowly until it calms down, the noise around you fading into something so distant and irrelevant. Because right now, all you can feel is him. The way his broad chest sits solid against your soft boobs and the warm touch of him on your skin that's suddenly everywhere. 

Jungkook goes completely still the exact way you do, like he didn't expect this either yet can't bring himself to do anything rational about it. The rush keeps you away from registering his hold around your thighs until he shifts slightly, securing your place in his arms.

Your faces are so close that his breath is hitting your skin in that warm, intimate kind of way you don’t share with just anyone. But the intimacy slips over your head just like that and all you can focus on is the way his hardened length presses against you beneath the water.

“Fuck.” It slips under his breath, barely audible even for you considering the lack of distance between you and him. But of course, you hear it. You'd be a fool to miss a slip like that, because you'd notice that kind of desperation from a mile away

He pulls back abruptly, like the warmth becomes too much and suffocates him all at once, so much that he can't feel oxygen reaching his lungs anymore. Distance folds itself into something necessary for him to function properly again, and just like that, your arms slip away and your legs drop back into the water.

Then you give him a smile, teasing and knowing, like this was all you needed to have him all bare and figured out in the middle of your palm. "This is new." You murmur. "You're getting reckless." 

His jaw tightens. “I’m not.” 

“You just pulled me into the pool.” You say, crossing your arms over your chest.

“You were standing too close.”

You laugh softly. “That’s your excuse?” 

“It’s the truth.”

You tilt your head to study him with a little more care. The way he's been holding onto the tension between you like his life depends on it just so that it doesn't crack, the way restraint sits so uncomfortably on his face even though he has no choice but to keep it together a little longer— it's all a bit more clear now.

"Right." You say lightly, then turn away like nothing about what just happened is worth digging further. But on the inside, you're already thinking about the phone call you'll have with Jaemin. Because you were right from the start, that wasn't nothing, not even close.

You just got what you wanted.

· · ─ ·✶· ─ · ·

Jaehyun absolutely loves Jaemin. He just won't ever say it like that. 

It shows in other ways— been there since the day you came home all giddy and giggly, talking too fast about the first ever friend you made in high school, barely able to get his name out properly out of excitement. Jaehyun remembers it anyway. He remembers the day you said Jaemin like it already meant something, like the way the letters rolled out of your tongue was enough to know he was going to stay. 

He didn't question it then, he doesn't question it now.

So when Jaemin shows up unannounced at your door and lets himself in without asking, Jaehyun doesn't tell him to leave. He complains with a roll of his eyes, but offers him a can of beer anyway. Because accommodating an uninvited Jaemin has become a given way too long ago.

Jaemin exists in the space the same way Jungkook does, even though he slipped into it a few years later, like they both carved out a place for themselves in the dearest corners of your lives and never really left.

The difference is, Jaemin doesn't really have to keep his distance.

After inviting himself inside, he stretches across your couch, fetches the drink straight out of Jaehyun's hand before your brother gets to offer it properly, then reaches for you absentmindedly the way he always does. 

Jaehyun notices it sometimes, just enough to be bothered by it. He isn't exactly a fan of seeing a man touch you like that, even if it's Jaemin. He rolls his eyes, tells him to stop being annoying, but Jaemin just nods along with that loose, careless grin; pulling you closer regardless.

You lean into him just enough to make things worse for your brother, your shoulder pressing into his chest as you reach past him for the small bowl of nuts Jaehyun was about to hand you, until Jaemin beats you to it.

"Can you not steal everything that's mine?" Jaehyun mutters. Already huffing, already annoyed.

Jaemin doesn't even look at him, stuffing his mouth with a handful of peanuts. "Relax. You were literally handing it out." 

Jaehyun deadpans. "Well, not to you." 

You laugh, grabbing a few of the almonds. "You're both insufferable."

"You're one to talk." Jaehyun shoots back immediately. "You encourage him."

"I don't encourage him." You argue, but the lack of distance between you and your friend is still questionable.

Jaemin glances down at you, eyes grazing over your bare legs draped across his lap before lifting a brow. "You definitely do." 

You tilt your head, meeting his gaze with narrowed eyes. "You're very impressionable, that's not my fault." 

"I'm not impressionable." 

"You walked in uninvited and stole a drink in under thirty seconds." 

"Eh," He squints his eyes, pretending to think. "You offered it though." 

"So you wouldn't have gone ahead and taken one if he didn't?" You ask, cocking a brow.

Jaehyun points at him in victory, ecstatic at the newfound support from you. "Exactly."

Jaemin ignores him completely and turns to you, his arm still draped over your shoulders. "You weren't complaining five minutes ago." 

"Suddenly I'm feeling a little wiser." 

Jaemin rolls his eyes. "No, you're not." 

You pause mid sip like you're considering putting up a fight, but you change your mind as you gulp down the drink, dropping your shoulders. "Fine, I'm not." 

Jaehyun exhales sharply, dragging a hand along his face like he's already exhausted. "See, this is exactly what I mean. You two are unbearable together."

"You're the one who keeps letting him in." You say lightly.

"I don't let him in." He argues. "He just shows up." 

"You'd shut the door in my face if you wanted to." Jaemin says.

"You'd climb in through the window." 

Jaemin nods with a serious look on his face, like what he's agreeing to is a reasonable solution. "Yeah, I would." 

You're still laughing when the bell rings, and Jaehyun mutters a quiet finally under his breath as he pushes himself up from the couch. Jungkook and Mingyu walk in one behind the other, Jaehyun holding the door open by the corner. 

"Took you long enough." He complains, unimpressed.

Mingyu scoffs lightly. "We're not late." 

"You always are. I'm the only one with a sense of urgency here." 

Mingyu doesn't argue further, he heads straight for the kitchen instead. As he's busy opening and closing cabinets one by one like he owns like place, Jungkook lingers a little longer at the entrance before following Jaehyun inside. 

He looks good, he looks so fucking good it takes everything in you to not spread your legs right then and there. So you lean more into Jaemin, letting your skirt ride up with the movement. Because you'll get this man in your bed one way or the other and right now, there's nothing you can do besides rile him up a little and pray your brother doesn't notice. 

He does.

Jaehyun's eyes flick between the two of you before he looks away again, jaw clenching just slightly. "Can you sit normally for once?" 

But you don't move. You can't move when Jungkook's already looking at you like he's trying so hard not to slip. Not again. "Are we not sitting normally?" You ask, glancing down at yourself, pretending to be confused.

"No." He says flatly.

Jaemin shifts just enough to make it worse, his arm tightening around you even though it's completely unnecessary. "Feels pretty normal to me."

"That's because you're the problem." 

You hum softly, clearly entertained now. "I think you're overreacting." 

Jaemin nudges you with his elbow. "He's jealous." 

"I'm not jealous of you."

"Wow." Jaemin says as he brings a hand to his chest, pretending to be offended. "That hurt." 

Mingyu laughs from the kitchen, leaning against the counter with his drink in hand. "He's definitely jealous." 

“I’m not jealous.” Jaehyun repeats, louder this time.

Mingyu shrugs as he drops onto the singular couch beside him. “Sounds like it.” 

You laugh again, and it still sounds light and careless. But it doesn't really feel like it. Not when you can feel Jungkook's eyes digging holes into your exposed skin, like he's trying to do with his eyes what he can't with anything else. Because neither one of his fists have the privilege of breaking Jaemin's jaw right now.

He's not even trying to hide it now. Maybe because something bigger already slipped last week and there is no point in trying to recollect it back together, or maybe because Jaehyun has fallen into another pointless argument with Mingyu and a small glace or two won't hurt anybody. Doesn't really matter when he keeps giving you exactly what you're looking for.

Regardless, you're adamant on not giving in. You're a girl on a mission and you're going to compromise it for nothing.

So you shift closer, letting your hand slide further along Jaemin's arm before curling your fingers around his bicep like there's no other place you'd rather it be. Like this is nothing new, nothing worth paying attention to. 

But it is.

Jungkook's eyes drop down to your legs— bare and unapologetic on Jaemin's lap. He lets them linger on the poor excuse of a skirt that's sitting uselessly on your hips, and then trails lines along your exposed legs all the way to the tip of your feet.

You don't have to look up to know he's watching, but you do anyway, just to see the way he's starting to break. Because this time, there's nothing careful about the way he's looking at you. The control is still there, but he's holding onto it for his dear life— barely. 

The conversation around you keeps moving in a way that's constant and habitual— Jaehyun complaining, Mingyu laughing, Jaemin saying something in your ear you don't fully catch…Everything is safe and practiced.

Besides him.

Jeon Jungkook is not safe. God, he’s terrifying.  Terrifyingly sexy and thoroughly unsafe. 

You reach for your drink, take a slow sip, then set it back down like you've suddenly lost all interest and nothing is as entertaining anymore. "I'll be back." You say, pushing yourself up from the couch before anyone can question you about it.

"Don't disappear." Jaehyun mutters mid-conversation, barely glancing at you.

You hum something about him asking too for many things at once before turning away, making your way out of the living room fast so that no one has the chance to hold you there longer.

You take your sweet time walking down the hallway, hips swaying from side to side just in case a certain someone decides to follow behind. But you know he will, so you don't look back. Luckily, life smiles at you for another day and the sound of a second set of footsteps reaches you in no time.

The corner of your mouth lifts in satisfaction as you reach the bathroom door, letting your hand linger on the handle for half a second too long before pushing it open, like you're giving him time to catch up.

You don't bother closing the door, leaving it open as Jungkook steps in a beat or two after you, not forgetting to lock it after him.

"Stop it." He mutters finally, voice low and rough like he doesn't fully trust it to come out louder without giving something away.

Too bad he already has.

You tilt your head, looking up at him like you don't quite understand what he's talking about, lashes fluttering innocently even though you're far from it. "Stop what?"

When your gazes meet, it's like his eyes are whispering to you, telling you to come closer and let yourself melt into his touch until your breath is completely blown away. But instead of doing anything about it, instead of tugging you closer into him and ending this stupid game that has left both of you aching and soaring; he drags a hand down his face and does everything in his power to pull himself back into the control he had once mastered. 

"You know what." He says, exhaling sharply through his nose.

You take a step closer, fed up with the distance he's forced you into. "I wanna hear you say it." 

His jaw tightens as he looks at you, trying to figure out how far you're willing to take it. "You've been pushing this all night."

"Well then, let me remind you." You murmur, stepping even closer, until there's barely any space left between the two of you. "You followed me." You say, placing your index finger on his chest. 

Your words land a certain way, you watch his reaction all the way through its birth and death. In the way his breath stutters audibly, in the way his eyes flick briefly down to your lips, in the way something between light and lust flashes across his features before he can lock it back down again. 

He scoffs as his eyes drift away from yours. "You're out of your mind." 

You shrug mindlessly, like nothing about this is as serious as he makes it out to be. "I've been told once. Or twice." You give him a smile, light and flirty.

He drops down his hand, then snaps his head towards you like he suddenly remembered something. "Do you think this is funny?" He asks, 

You let your gaze drag over him slowly, completely unapologetic, taking your time with it before meeting his eyes.

"I think it's hot." 

And you're met with silence. Oh, Jeon Jungkook, the fucking pussy you are. 

That does it, you see it the second it lands, the second that suppressed urge in him slips past the point of recovery. It's still there— but thinner, frying, barely holding on. Like it's waiting for someone to cross the line first and it sure as hell won't be him.

So you do.

You close the space completely this time, your hand finding him again until it settles on his shirt and fists the fabric enough to pull him in. You're not testing the waters, not anymore. Everything is visible no matter how hard he's trying to pull it through and you're not going to let him slip past your fingertips when you've gotten him like this. 

Jungkook inhales sharply, quick and uneven, like air catches in the middle of his chest before he can do anything about it. His hand moves instinctively, and just as you think he's going to push your hand away, he settles his hold on your waist. 

He calls your name, voice dropping in a way that's raw and desperate. His body goes rigid as his brain tries being reasonable one last time, but he fails terribly, miserably.

Your hands trail along his chest, traveling down until you decide to let them settle on his waist. Your hands don't rush him, they move like you've already decided how this ends on his part. Your fingers slip just past the waistband of his jeans, but still not fully, tugging with his belt.

"Fuck." He mutters under his breath as your hips hit his roughly, head falling back beyond his control.

Jungkook just stands there and takes it, lets it happen, lets you happen.

That's what gives him away. He doesn't grab your wrists, doesn't step back, doesn't do anything he should be doing. So with the newfound confidence, you sink down to your knees, slow enough that each passing second aches and tortures and stings his skin until it burns and leaves your trace. 

He freezes.

His body hasn't caught up to what's happening yet, even though you're taking your sweet time to make sure every second of your touch registers to the point where it's lingering and all he sees and feels is you when he closes his eyes. 

No matter how bad you're trying to let him keep up, he feels as though his brain has stopped working long ago and parked itself outside of the constellation named his fucking morals. 

"You still there, Jungkook?" You ask looking up at him, voice low and sultry, bating your eyelashes with feigned innocence. As if you aren't his best friend's little sister who's about to suck the life out of him.

He's barely able to get out a reply and you're already pulling his jeans down. You fiddle with the waistband of his boxers, then move along to palm him over the fabric. Jungkook sucks in a sharp breath, hands finding their way to your hair like he's trying to ground himself. 

You give a squeeze to his base, hard and thick just like you expected. You're sure whatever he's hiding inside is even better than your imagination, but there's still a minute or two before you can figure that out. 

"Ah, fuck, yes—" Jungkook breathes, almost stuttering, completely lost in a daze. "Keep going." He says as his hold tightens in your hair, locks tangling between his fingertips as he tries steadying himself. You slowly drag your hand over to his tip, flicking your index finger somewhere over his slit before moving it back down. You're about to pull down his boxers and then—

A knock. 

Jaehyun calls out your name from the other side of the door, and the sound reaches your ears in an instant, forcing you out of whatever fantasy you've lost yourselves in. It's so sudden that Jungkook jerks, his hold on you slipping away as panic flashes across his features. But you? You don't even move.

"Give me a second!" You call back with a voice so impressively steady even Jungkook believes you're alone for a second. 

Jungkook exhales like he's just been dropped back into a body he hasn't been in for years, fists closing and opening by his sides like he doesn't know what to do with his hands anymore. But what gets him— what gets him the most is how calm and unbothered you look, like you didn't just bury his body and bring it back to life in under a minute.

Jaehyun calls your name again. "Be quick, seriously." 

But you're still not rushing, still not scrambling. Hell, you're not even shifting the way anyone else would in this situation— enter Jungkook. You just tilt your head slightly as you slowly rise back up to your feel, like you're mildly inconvenienced at best.

"I said give me a second!" You reply, and Jungkook watches over you like you're insane. Because you don't look panicked, you don't look caught, you don't look half he's feeling right now.

You look…fine.

He doesn't like that.

Right when Jungkook was considering running the bath and drowning himself in boiling water, another door opens.

"You can use this one." Jaemin says casually, thoroughly aware of whatever stunt you're pulling unlike your brother. Jaehyun mutters something under his breath, a few curse words and complaints about how annoying you are, but he's already moving. 

It's silent again when the door locks shut, and Jungkook exhales like he has been holding the entire universe in his lungs. "Jesus—" He runs a hand down his face, shaking his head like he's trying to rid himself of everything but it doesn't work. "What the fuck was that?" 

You melt into every second in a whole minute, smoothing your skirt down, fixing your lipstick, running a hand along your hair like those are the only things that need a fixing and nothing about this requires any urgency.

You look at him, completely calm. "What?" You ask lightly, not even making an effort to look at him, glancing at his face from its reflection through the mirror.

His jaw tightens. "You have no idea what game you're playing and it's a problem."

You finally turn to look at him, then glance down to his crotch before lifting your eyes back up, the corners of your mouth lifting. "I think you've got a bigger problem going on." You say, then walk through the door just like that.

Just like that.

Jungkook is losing his fucking mind.

He hates you, he hates you so goddamn much right now. He hated you that day by the pool when you were in that stupid little bikini, hated you when you had your perfect legs over some boy's lap— God, he really is just some boy. What the fuck is a Jaemin? He swears he's so much hotter and bigger and sexier but he can't even try and make himself feel better now that his pants are tightening and his cock is aching.

He knows he's got a bigger problem going on, he didn't need you to say it, he doesn't want to hear you say anything at this point. Because it seems as though he has the self restraint of a fucking rabbit and his dick gets hard with so much as your breathing. 

Jungkook is the boy here. He knows he is. There is nothing left for him to do besides hoping you don't. But god, he's desperate. He can't help but think about the what ifs. What if Jaehyun didn't knock, what if you actually pulled down his boxers and took him in your sweet little mouth. He'd give anything right now. Anything to see your mouth full with his cock, stuffed to the brim. He'd do anything for you to fold beneath him and do as he says, he'd bend you over this stupid counter and take you right fucking here. He'd fuck you so good you'd never be able to walk properly again. He'd put you in your place and shut that sweet mouth of yours forever.

But he can't. He knows he can't. So he does the second most stupid he can do today— the first being letting you take him in your mouth. He pulls his jeans back down after making sure the door is locked again, then frees his cock out of the fabric that has been suffocating him since the moment he laid his eyes on you today.

He starts stroking himself after spreading the precum over his tip, then lets his hand run down his aching length. He's so horny it's stupid. He can't believe a girl he has known since he was nine has gotten his dick rock hard with so much as a few reckless words and light, taunting touches. But who the fuck is he kidding? This isn't the first time he's thought about you like this, not the first time he's caught himself a way the shouldn't have.

He's just been better at hiding it before.

He had always been the version of himself that knows where the line is and doesn't even think about crossing it. Because for the longest time, you had a single purpose, a single title in his life— Jaehyun's little sister. A kid who used to hover around the edges of everything she had no part in, who'd sit too close and talk too much even when she didn't have to. There was never a reason to think about it longer than necessary. 

Until you made it impossible to ignore. 

It didn't happen all at once, not in a way he could point to and say this is where it changed. It just…happened. You stopped asking to be included, stopped looking at him like he was someone above and untouchable. You built your own life, your own circle, yourself.

And somewhere in the middle of all of that, he started noticing things. The way you carried yourself differently, the way your voice grew into something low and sultry, the way you started looking at people with eyes that knew exactly what you were doing, thoroughly aware of the effect you had.

So as he keeps dragging a hand along his length, he thinks about every time you'd bent over in front of him with a skirt way too short to be acceptable, every time you'd given him those eyes while asking for things as simple as a glass of water, every time you'd call a man late at night thinking your voice couldn't be heard when he'd lose hours of sleep over it— he thinks about it all. 

He cums with a breathy trail of moans and your name on his tongue, body shaking with the intensity of his orgasm. And as he struggles to find the line between his imagination and the reality, he realizes that the worst part about what he has done today isn't Jaehyun or the post nut clarity.

It's that he wants more. 

· · ─ ·✶· ─ · ·

The club is brazen without trying to be subtle about it. It's the kind of atmosphere that doesn't prepare you for the worst before settling deep into your skin, right in the middle of something you can't erase no matter how hard you try scrubbing it off, because the agitation is just that heavy. The lights hang low, glowing in a distant hue that's maybe a little too deliberate for a club like this. The air is thick and full without being suffocating, but it's lived in. Like it's been used over and over again and simply refuses to empty out, carrying the remnants of conversations, the cluttered echo of laughter, and things that are said too loud yet meant too lightly. 

You're not sure if it was the best pick for a birthday night out, but who are you to say anything— you wouldn't be here without Jaehyun anyway. Not that you want to leave, but the party doesn't matter all that much either. Although you do like Haneul— one of Jaehyun's college friends who also became yours overtime— she's sweet in a way that's safe and makes it easy to forget she's the center of attention tonight. 

The music is starting to feel too loud and it feels as if the club is getting smaller and smaller as time goes on, but it's still a little early to leave, at least by yourself. Because leaving alone would mean you aren't enjoying yourself and staying long enough keeps everything in place, keeps you exactly where you need to be without drawing attention to the fact that your mind has been completely elsewhere for the entirety of the night.

Jungkook has been avoiding you. Definitely, irreproachably, unmistakeably.

You've been in this club for three hours now, with your body pressed against the crowd in a way that doesn't allow distance to exist, caught between people who move like proximity is a choice rather than an inconvenience, and still— Jungkook hasn't looked at you properly. Not even once.

Jaehyun finds you sometime around the final minutes of your fourth hour here, fully drunk now as if he hasn't been halfway gone for the majority of his time here. His words are looser, his voice is louder, and his arm is slinging around your shoulder like everything about his balance depends on you. 

"There you are." He sings, stretching the words sloppily. "I'm done." 

You laugh, head tipping back in his arms. "You've been done for like, what? An hour now?" You tell him, steadying the drink in his hand before it spills.

"I mean it this time." He leans into you, then immediately leans away like something far more interesting suddenly caught his attention. "I'm leaving— or, no. I'm staying. I don't know." 

"That sounds about right." 

He exhales dramatically, then glances over your shoulder until he spots what he was looking for. "Jungkook!" He shouts over the music. 

Jungkook turns his head slightly before fully facing your brother, then moves towards you like rejecting was never really an option.

"Can you take her home?" Jaehyun asks, placing a hand on the small of your back. But it doesn't sound like a question, it sounds like a decision that's already been made before it even reached Jungkook.

Jungkook's expression tightens slightly. "I'm not—" 

"You are." Jaehyun cuts him off, waving it away like the argument doesn't exist, doesn't matter. "I'll stay a bit longer, or all night, just— make sure she gets home safe, please." 

Your eyes wander away to Jungkook, because watching him is far more interesting than dealing with your drunk brother. There's a pause before he exhales through his nose, a beat that's enough to feel like he's weighing something in his head, like there is a version of this he so badly wants to refuse but knows he can't— knows he won't.

"Fine." He says finally, not exactly willing. 

Jaehyun grins, satisfied with the outcome even though he won't remember achieving it by the time he wakes up. He disappears into the crowd after patting Jungkook on the shoulder, leaving the two of you standing in a space that suddenly feels quiet despite being the complete opposite.

Jungkook walks alongside you in silence as you make your way out of the club, his pace controlled and calculated like that's the only thing he's concentrating on right now. The music gets swallowed up by a wave of soft wind and the distant hum of the city when you step outside, fading slowly as you get further and further away from the club. 

You glance at him as you walk, trailing your eyes along the sharp line of his jaw beneath the warm glow of the streetlights. He's dressed too nicely for the bike waiting at the curb, painted in dark clothes and silver rings along with the kind of face that makes people stop and turn their heads twice without even realizing they're doing it. For a short second, you wonder if he knows how unfair he looks tonight. But jokes on you, he probably does. 

Because Jeon Jungkook is one cocky bastard, even though he doesn't show it a lot. 

"You could've said no, you know." You say lightly when you reach the bike. "If it's impossible for you to be alone with me without glaring like you want me dead." 

Jungkook exhales through his nose, pulling the spare helmet from the handle and holding it out to you before responding eventually. "I would've said no if i wanted to." 

You look down to the helmet, crossing your arms on your chest."You can act a little less miserable, then." 

His jaw tightens slightly at that, like he's annoyed with both you and himself. "Put the helmet on." He says, ignoring your claim. 

You roll your eyes, but take it from him anyway, not forgetting to let your fingers brush against his on purpose. He shifts under your touch, shoulders tensing beneath his jacket. You're sure he notices the way you're doing it on purpose too, but prefers not to comment on it. Not yet, at least.

"You're quiet tonight." You say, slipping the helmet on. 

"You talk enough for the both of us."

"That's not true. You talk plenty when you're…engaged." You say slowly, dragging your gaze over him before settling them back on his face. Jungkook looks at you properly for the first time tonight, and he makes sure to look at you with purpose. Enough to let you know he's still thinking about it too.

The bathroom, everything you did that day, everything he did after you left. Not a single second of it has left his mind ever since. 

"Get on the bike." He says, tongue poking the inside of cheek before he speaks.

You do, but you do it so slowly Jungkook thinks he wants to dig his grave right then and there. You place your hands on his shoulders before sliding them over his chest as you move behind him, taking your time in a way that feels cruel. By the time you finally sit, there's barely any space between your bodes. Your knees press against his thighs, your arms wrap around his waist, and your chest leans onto his back. 

"You know," You murmur near his ear, and it takes so much in him to not go still at the lingering heat of your breath. "For someone who keeps telling me to stop, you never actually do anything." 

His grip tightens around the handles. "You don't listen." 

"Maybe i'd listen if you were better at hiding how much you like it." 

You feel how his body stiffens immediately as he inhales sharply before starting the engine. "Hold properly." He says, completely dismissing your words.

When the bike finally pulls away from the curb, you settle against him even closer than before, letting your body melt into the warmth of his. You smile to yourself beneath the helmet, because this time, you know exactly how tonight is going to end. 

Your hands wander all over him throughout the entirety of the ride, tracing lines starting from his chest all the way down to his thighs. Jungkook has no idea how the hell he's survived when he rolls the bike into your garage, but he definitely knows the tension between you has turned into something so physical he feels like he's going to burst.

Neither of you can move when the engine cuts off, because the air is still vibrating from the ride. Because your body stayed pressed against his the entire way home like you were trying to test how much restraint one could realistically have before it gave out completely.

And judging by how Jungkook is handling it all— not much. 

"You should go inside." He says eventually, back still turned to you. 

You slowly let go of his waist, leaning back slightly as you take off your helmet. "I don't really want to." 

Jungkook lets out a breath through his nose, then hops off the bike as he takes the helmet from your hand and places it back on the handle alongside his own. When he's back on the bike, he's facing you, legs placed on both sides of the vehicle. 

He calls your name, but it sounds completely ruined in his mouth now, rough and raw around the edges by weeks of restraint and the complete lack of it sitting underneath. He shakes his head in frustration, dragging a hand along his face. 

"Look, you— this, whatever you've been trying to do all night. No, scratch that, you've been doing this for weeks now. It's not going to happen, it can't happen." 

"You wanna know what i think?" You ask instead, tilting your head. 

"No."

"I think you liked avoiding me."

Jungkook's eyes darken at your words, sharp enough to slice through your skin that's ravaged with desire. And as the dawn slowly breaks, you see the walls crumbling down beneath his feverish, agitated gaze. Because you've already stripped him out of his armor and he hates how naked and vulnerable he might look to your eyes. 

"You liked it because it gave you an excuse to think about me all the time." Your voice softens slightly, just enough to feel intimate. "Every room i walked into, every conversation you avoided, every time you looked away before i caught you. You liked it because that was the only way to fill your mind with me without feeling guilty." 

Jungkook laughs quietly, but there's nothing amused about it. The sound comes out frayed, disbelieving, like he's hearing his own thoughts being spoken back to him in your voice and hates how accurate they sound. 

"You think this is easy for me?" He asks, and the shift in his tone catches you off-guard. It's not softer, not gentler either— but it's honest. Raw in a way that sits somewhere so deep in his chest, so much more than he has been willing to show until now. "You think i enjoy walking into a room and having to pretend i'm not thinking about you?" 

At his confession, your breath stutters without waiting for permission. Because suddenly, every letter rolling out of his tongue feels heavy. Because this is the first time he's admitting it out loud, even if it sounds like it's being dragged out against his will. 

His eyes dip briefly to your lips before lifting again, but it's slow, as if the movement costs him something he can't pay for. "You keep looking at me like that." He mutters, so low that you think it's not meant for you. 

"Like what?" You ask, looking up at him through your lashes. 

"Like you already know i'm gonna give in." 

You tilt your head slightly, pushing yourself further into his embrace. "Are you?" You ask, voice laced with a honeyed amusement. 

He exhales sharply with closed eyes, and for a second, you think he's actually going to walk away. You see the glimpses of conflict flash across his features, shoulders tensing like he's forcing himself to hold onto the last scraps of control he has left.

But then his hands find your waist, firm and certain in a way that makes you believe he won't let go this time. Whatever was left of Jungkook's self-control gives in completely, and his lips are on yours in an instant.

A mix of gasps and moans falls from your lips, and he swallows them without wasting a second. Your fists find his jacket, tugging onto the fabric as you close the remaining bits and pieces of distance between your bodies.

His hands drop drown to your hips, moving them to the rhythm of your lips until you're fully on his lap. His thumb pulls at your bottom lip, searching for permission to be let in even further into your mouth. You grant him the access immediately, his tongue clashing against yours in a way that's hot, wet, and so fucking desperate. 

You draw circles with your hips on his lap, his already hardened length pressing into your clothed core. The friction feels so good it blows your breath away, and your stomach flutters every time his skin touches yours in a way that's rather vulnerable and intimate instead of sole lust. 

Jungkook feels his cock pulsing beneath the fabric of his jeans, and he swears he's going to cum on the spot if you keep moving your hips like that. Your wetness leaves filthy stains on the course denim, marking him with your arousal. 

"This dress," He breathes into your mouth, voice laced with fever as he tugs onto the thin fabric. "You wore it for me?" 

You smirk into the kiss, not forgetting to continue moving your hips. "Wouldn't you like to know." You sing softly. 

He scoffs, hand sliding in through your dress to settle on your bare ass, giving it a hard squeeze, fingers digging into the soft flesh. "Oh, i already do." 

The moment a soft trace of streetlights spread inside from the corner and chase away the darkness, Jungkook knows it's his cue to pull away. A final opportunity to let him fix everything he has broken and lost himself inside, a weak excuse to allow him wake up to a brighter morning without the weight of betrayal and regret and burnt desire he hates himself for not being able to keep hidden. 

But he doesn't, he's so lost in the drug called you and as your body searches his further and further, there's almost nothing left in him that's holding him back from being gone completely. 

Your movements on his lap grow into something more and more desperate, pussy aching with need as his hands wander all around your body, feeling you up beneath your dress. He lifts the skirt over your hips, exposing it to the cool air of the garage and your breath hitches at the feeling of being so bare all of a sudden.

"Shit— stop, stop." He nearly begs, pulling his lips away from yours. You look back at him, momentarily thrown. Because what does he mean stop? He can't, not right now, not when he's got you all hot and bothered on his lap.

"What's wrong?" You ask softly, brows pulling together. 

"I'm— I'll cum if you keep doing that. Wanna be inside you."

The words mean so much more to you than just lust. Because this isn't only want, not at all. It's ravishment, the breakage of suppression that has been dressed up as a boundary for way too long. Jungkook has spent weeks— no, scratch that. He has spent years holding himself together so tightly you almost started believing he was actually capable of resisting you. 

But now, he's sitting beneath you, looking completely unraveled by your body against his. Nothing more, nothing less. 

You did that. The thought alone makes you dizzy. 

You take a moment to let your gaze drift over his face; taking in the spent rise and fall of his chest, his red lips that are swollen from kissing you, the frustration and desperation tangled together beneath his darkened gaze…He looks wrecked in a way that doesn't suit him at all. Because Jeon Jungkook has always been a man of precision and there isn't a single ounce left of it in his being tonight.

He was always guarded in a way that kept every ugly thought locked somewhere private, somewhere no one else could reach, could touch. And now, Jeon Jungkook is falling apart right in front of you— because of you. 

"Yeah? You want to fuck me, Jungkook?" You ask slowly, voice low and sultry as your nails trail lines along his inner thighs. 

Jungkook lets out a low groan before speaking. "Come here." He says, pulling you back onto him. You laugh with the movement as your hands work on the zipper of his jeans, and he lifts his hips enough to assist you pull them off just enough. 

Once his boxers are pulled down and his cock is all bare and exposed for you to see, you can't help but let your lips part in shock. You feel yourself nearly drooling over his size because fuck, he's huge. 

You shouldn't be shocked, you've already felt him up and you expected nothing less. But seeing it like this, thick and long and leaking for you— you think you're going to pass away. 

"See something you like, baby?" He smirks, all cocky and confident. 

"That's not going to fit." You reply immediately, gaze flicking up and down consecutively. 

"We'll make it fit." He says, eyes stuck on yours as he gives himself a few strokes. "And you're going to take every inch like the good girl you are." 

You just stare at him, utterly in shock, almost scared. Because what the actual fuck is he talking about? You've never taking anything this big, and you're not sure if anyone ever has either. 

"You were begging for me to fuck you. Weren't you, princess? Were so desperate for my cock and now what? Cat's got your tongue?" He says, a loose grin on his face as his thumb swipes over the head and spreads the precum. 

"I'll take it." You say obediently.

"Yeah?" He breathes, lifting your hips so that your entrance is lining up with his cock. 

"I'll take all of it. Need your big cock so bad. Fuck me, Jungkook. Please, need it." You beg, trying to push yourself down to take him into your cunt but he tightens his hands around your hips to hold you in place. 

He guides your hips down slowly, letting you feel every line and every vein that's painting his pretty length. You whine at the stretch, but there's still half of him you haven't taken yet. 

"Fuck," He groans, letting his eyes close and his head fall back as you sink down further. "You're so tight." 

You both moan loudly as he presses your hips down fully, your wet cunt swallowing him wholly. He watches as his cock disappears between your folds, so wet and creamy with your slick that's already obnoxiously overflowing. Once all of him is inside you, you let out a high pitched whimper, feeling the way your walls burn with how good he's stretching you, because he's just that big. So fucking massive it's insane. And you swear you've never felt this full in your entire life.

"Holy shit." You gasp when he lifts his hips to meet you halfway, balls hitting your ass with the movement. 

"How does it feel, princess? Anything like you imagined?" He asks, thrusting up into you as he guides your hips down, hands squeezing the flesh of your plump ass. "Use your big girl words, i know you can."

"So good, Jungkook. I'm so full, you're so— so big." You cry out, nails digging into his shoulders. 

He pushes down the top of your dress, exposing the lace fabric of your red bra. He pulls it down just enough to bare your boobs, breath hitching the moment they bounce free right in front of his eyes.

Jungkook sucks in a sharp breath the moment you find your pace, your tits bouncing up and down as you hop on his cock, riding him to chase your own high. One of his hands lift to massage your tit as the other keeps digging into the flesh of your ass. You whimper when he takes your hardened nipple into his mouth, bouncing on his cock in a pace that slowly grows into something sloppier as the hot feeling of your orgasm starts building low in your stomach. 

"Kook, i'm cumming. Shit." 

"Yeah? Let it go, baby. Cream all over my fat cock."

His words do it for you, and you fall apart on his cock after a few more thrusts. Your legs start shaking and you bury your head in his neck for support, panting into his skin.

"You okay?" He asks, head tilted as he tries looking at your profile. 

"Yeah…just," You breathe, straightening your posture to pull away and take a proper look at him. "Wanna make you feel good."

Jungkook groans loudly, letting his head fall back at your words. Because how can he act normal, how can he hold it together when your mouth keeps reciting filthy words so casually like you're talking about the weather? 

He can't believe this, he still can't believe he's just fucked you on his stupid bike. Because this is you. Jaehyun's little sister. The girl he spent years forcing himself not to look at for to long. And now, he's got you all naked and completely spent on his lap, touching him like the yellow light that's filling up the void of control he'd built for himself, warming him up so intimately without even realizing you're doing so. 

He's a goner. He's so irreversibly fucked and completely gone.

But what worsens it for him is, that you don't look too different from the state he's in. You've fallen apart right in front of his eyes, skin flushed, sounds breathless, movements desperate. They tell him you're just as gone as he is. There is something so dizzying about it, about seeing the exact effect he has on you after weeks of wondering whether he imagined it all or not. 

He didn't.

Thank god, he didn't.

As his eyes wander all over you, desire burning through him so intensely it almost feels violent, he thinks about the one thing he has been dying to ask you.

Because if he doesn't ask now, when will he ever?

"Can i—" Jungkook cuts himself off with a quiet curse, dragging a hand down his face before looking back at you. "Fuck, can i fuck your tits?"

The corner of your mouth twitches upwards immediately, amusement curling through your face despite how breathless he left you just minutes ago. The overhead light catches against the flush spreading across your skin, showing off the mess he's made of you. 

Your fingertips move onto the hem of your dress, pausing there long enough for anticipation to sizzle in his lungs before you slowly pull the fabric upwards. 

Jungkook watches every movement, so so carefully. Like he's afraid that if he blinks, he'll miss something. And when your dress is completely off, he thinks that he might actually die right then and there.

The breath that leaves him when you unclasp your bra and let it fall down to the ground is sharp. His gaze drags over you with a kind of raw hunger he stopped trying to hide a long time ago tonight. There is nothing composed about him now, nothing careful. Just pure, unadulterated want.

"Jesus Christ." He mutters under his breath, hands flexing at his sides like he doesn't know what to do with them. 

You tilt your head slightly, watching him through your lashes, a small and seductive smile playing on your lips. "You look overwhelmed." 

"You think?" He argues, a rough laugh slipping out of his lips. "Press'em together for me, baby." He says, hands braced behind him as he leans into the handlebars. 

You press your tits together, then lean forward onto him to take his cock between the soft flesh of your boobs. Jungkook's eyes flutter shut in an instant, a low groan escaping his lips as you start moving your chest up and down. His dick is already so wet, sliding between your boobs seamlessly.

"Love your tits, princess. Gonna paint them with my seed." He moans, long gone in the bliss. Jungkook's hips jerk beyond his control, and he starts fucking your tits as you move along with his pace. 

He cums all over your chest not long after with low grunts of curses and your name on his tongue. 

The garage still feels warm, still thick with tension and the aftermath of everything that just happened, everything that was boundto happen for weeks. But there isn't an edge to it anymore. Because Jungkook isn't looking at you the way he was just a few hours ago. Because now, there's no frustration behind his gaze. Instead, he looks wrecked. 

He leans back against the handlebars as he tries catching his breath, one hand still on your thigh. You sit sideways across his lap, completely naked, hair messy, lips swollen. 

Your fingers drift absentmindedly along the collar of his shirt as he tries catching his breath, smoothing the fabric. "You know," You murmur, eyes dancing over him. "You're a lot softer than i thought you'd be."

Jungkook laughs lightly. "You literally spent weeks trying to ruin my life." 

"Mhm." You tilt your head, pretending to think. "You survived tho." 

He snorts, thumb drawing circles on your thigh. "Barely." 

You smile, then lean into his chest when his hand slides higher along your waist without really thinking, skin calloused and a little rough on your soft skin. But for some reason, it comforts you in a way nothing ever has. 

Because for a second, it doesn't feel complicated at all. It doesn't feel like boundaries or guilt or Jaehyun or years of years of knowing each other but never doing anything about it. It just feels like Jungkook's hands on your body and the quiet look in his eyes that says he's still trying to process how badly he wanted this.

How badly he still wants it. 

"I really tried not to." He says suddenly.

You look at him, brows pulling together faintly as you try to figure out what he's going to say. "Tried not to what?" 

His eyes flick down to your lips before lifting again. "Want you." 

Your stomach flips when he says that. Because they sound real. There is no teasing in them. No temptation, no flirtation. Just raw, unadulterated truth. 

You lift your head to look at him properly, suddenly a little too aware of how close the two of you still are. How his hand hasn't moved from your waist, how your legs are still tangled with his on the bike like neither of you has figured out how to leave. 

"You sucked at it." You say softly.

That earns you a real laugh this time. It's quiet and tired, yet warm around the edges in a way you've never heard him before. Even if you have, it was never for you. But now it feels so intimate that every breath he takes, every word he says, every single thing he does is in honour to you. 

"Yeah, i know." And for one dangerous moment, everything feels easy.

Then the front door slams open upstairs.

"I'm home!" Jaehyun's voice echoes through the house; loud, drunk and completely unaware. "Why the fuck is the garage light on?" 

Well, fuck.