Summary:- As BTS's new private stylist, you live, work, and travel with them. But fame has warped them.
You’re treated like a possession...something only they should have access to. They monitor who you talk to, what you wear, how you smile. They sabotage your chances to leave. The world sees glamour. You live in fear.
Their love burns too hot. Their jealousy cuts too deep. And you're one headline away from a breakdown....or a scandal that could ruin them all.
Chapter 1
Chapter 2
Chapter 3
Chapter 4
Chapter 5
Chapter 6
Chapter 7
The bathroom of the luxury hotel was the only place you could find true silence. Locking the door, you pulled out a burner phone you had secretly bought weeks ago. Your heart hammered against your ribs as you pulled up the email confirmation. You had successfully passed the first two rounds of interviews for a freelance styling gig in Paris. It was your ticket out.
"Sora?"
Jungkook’s voice cut through the heavy wooden door, making you jump. You quickly shoved the phone under a stack of clean towels.
"I'm just fixing my makeup, Jungkook-oppa!" you called out, trying to keep your voice from trembling.
"Open the door," he commanded. It wasn't an angry shout, but the absolute calm in his voice made your stomach drop.
You unlocked the door, plastering on a fake smile. Jungkook stood there, still wearing his heavy combat boots and a black oversized t-shirt. In his hand, he held a sleek, expensive tablet. He didn't look at you; he looked at the screen.
"Paris is nice this time of year," Jungkook murmured, stepping past you into the bathroom. He reached directly under the towels, pulling out your hidden burner phone as if he already knew exactly where it was.
You froze, all the air leaving your lungs. "Jungkook..."
"The agency called our management to check your references, Sora-ya," he said, turning to face you. His dark eyes were wide, almost innocent, but the grip he had on your burner phone was so tight his knuckles turned white. With a sickening crack, he snapped the small device completely in half using his bare hands.
He dropped the broken plastic onto the marble counter. Step by step, he trapped you against the sink, leaning in until his breath fanned across your lips.
"Did you really think you could just leave us?" he whispered, his voice dangerously soft. "We built this entire world for you. You aren't going anywhere. Now, come out. We have a flight to catch."
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Summary:- As BTS's new private stylist, you live, work, and travel with them. But fame has warped them.
You’re treated like a possession...something only they should have access to. They monitor who you talk to, what you wear, how you smile. They sabotage your chances to leave. The world sees glamour. You live in fear.
Their love burns too hot. Their jealousy cuts too deep. And you're one headline away from a breakdown....or a scandal that could ruin them all.
Chapter 1
Chapter 2
Chapter 3
Chapter 4
Chapter 5
Chapter 6
The humidity backstage at the music show was stifling. You were practically running, holding three different garment bags, trying to get to Kim Taehyung before the final styling check. The hallway was a maze of cables, rolling cases, and frazzled staff. You nearly tripped over a power strip, but a firm hand stabilized you.
It was one of the production assistants, a young guy who had been kind to you before. “Careful, Sora-ssi,” he smiled, holding your arm just long enough to ensure your balance. “They’re almost ready for you.”
“Thank you,” you gasped, flashing a quick, genuine smile of gratitude before rushing past him.
You burst into Taehyung's private room. He was sitting perfectly still, dressed in a sleek, crimson silk button-down that draped over his frame like liquid fire. He was looking at his reflection, but the second the door clicked shut, his gaze shifted.
It wasn't V, the idol, looking at you. It was Taehyung.
“Come here,” he stated, his voice unusually deep and entirely devoid of inflection. He didn't blink as you approached, dropping the garment bags onto a chair.
You stopped in front of him, your heart sinking. You hadn't even had time to fix his collar yet. “I’m sorry, Oppa. I had to fetch the backups for the performance...”
“You smiled at him.”
Your blood ran cold. He had seen it from the open doorway. “He… he just helped me from falling, Taehyung-ah.”
Takyung didn’t respond with words. Instead, he reached out, gripping the collar of your staff hoodie and pulling you down so you were eye-level with him. His proximity was intoxicating and terrifying. His beautiful eyes searched yours, not for an answer, but for compliance.
With his free hand, he reached up and plucked something from the air near your neck...a tiny, crimson loose thread from his own silk shirt. Instead of throwing it away, he meticulously wrapped it around the topmost button of your black hoodie, tying a small, tight knot.
“It looks messy when you wear colors that aren't ours, Sora-ya,” he whispered, his long fingers brushing against your throat as he admired his handywork. “This way, everyone knows who you’re working for today. Right?”
He didn't let go until you nodded, the tiny red thread burning against your skin like a mark of ownership.
pairing: Spider-Man!Jungkook x black!Black Cat!reader
wc: 1.2K (not proofread)
cw: none
part 1 part 2
˚₊𓆩༺🕷༻𓆪₊˚
The pedestrians walking past the window provided a welcome distraction for Jungkook, who had been sitting alone at his favourite booth in the Sunnyside Diner for twenty minutes. It was already the second time he had sat there this week, earning him a surprised look from the cashier who had also been working during his previous visit. The friend he was waiting for today had warned him she would be late and profusely apologised, but, being the gentleman he was, he didn't mind at all. If anything, it bought him a bit more time to relax before she arrived.
'Hi, so sorry I’m late!' An out-of-breath Y/N pushed the door open and almost let herself collapse onto the opposite bench of the booth, visibly exhausted by the journey she had just endured. 'I left my mom's house as fast as I could but ended up getting stuck in the Lincoln Tunnel on the way back anyway. Traffic was terrible.'
'Thank God I don’t live in New Jersey,' Jungkook chuckled. 'A lot of my colleagues at the Bugle are considering moving out because the commute is taking years off their life span.'
Her shoulders dropped in exhaustion as she released a weary puff of air. 'I know, right! I got so lucky when finding our condo. I don't even know how I survived living this far from New York City but I’m so glad I got out of there.’ Y/N took a brief pause to think back on her words then continued, 'Well, come to think of it it's not like we live in the Upper East Side either but…' she let her shrugged shoulders do the talking, to which Jungkook smiled warmly.
'Hey, Queens has its charm,' Jungkook pointed out. 'Our condo's not the fanciest but the rent is one of the cheapest you can find in the city. So unless you earn as much as these Wall Street people I think this is the best option you can get. No offence though.'
Y/N chortled, 'None taken! I actually like the neighbourhood anyway.' She dropped her rant about New Jersey's remote location as she changed the topic. 'What’s up with you?'
'Hmm, nothing much,' he replied, letting out a soft sigh. 'The week was pretty tiring, so I’m going straight to bed the second we get home. I feel like my brain and body are turning into total mush.'
She pouted, eyes softening with genuine concern. 'Aww, you could’ve told me you were tired! I wouldn't have minded if we rescheduled.'
Jungkook softly waved a hand at her, brushing off her worry with an easy smile. 'Don’t worry about it. I offered to meet up a while ago, and we’re close to the diner anyway.' He stretched, wincing slightly as a stubborn knot in his neck pulled. 'It’s unfortunately not my first rodeo.'
'Please don't die on me, we have more strawberry lemonades to take here.'
'Aaah so you like what Queens has to offer now! I suppose you like the place, then?'
Y/N guffawed, 'I told you I do! But seriously, I always walk past here on my way to the gym, but I've never had the chance to properly sit down.' She took a moment to look around the venue, taking in the renovated walls with images highlighting New York’s iconic monuments and the speakers playing a soft tune drowned in the noise of the different crowds sitting in different areas. Her eyes flicked back to him, full of a playful glint. 'I just hope you don’t bring all your girl friends here, because I'd be super offended if that were the case.'
He placed a dramatic hand over his chest in fake offence. 'Nah, I would never. Plus, this is a very safe space of mine and I wouldn't bring anyone here unless I genuinely enjoyed their company.'
She let out a soft giggle to hide her relief at his confession, nudging his arm playfully. 'Ah, stop it, you.'
As their drinks arrived, their banter was replaced by a warmth engulfing them both in a comfortable discussion about their neighborhood, what their daily lives were like, and laughing over the absurdities of their building's landlord. Since Y/N had been hauling a massive, towering moving box down the hallway eight months ago, completely unable to see over the top of it and had almost crashed squarely into Jungkook’s chest, their dynamic had no other choice but to remain the easy one they worked effortlessly to get as next-door neighbours.
'D'you want me to walk you up?' He teased as they finally stepped out of the diner and made their way back toward their building.
Y/N held a fake deadpan look on her face, 'You're not funny.'
'Mehh, your smile from ear to ear says something different,' Jungkook traced her smile with his fingertip and she laughed breathily before stepping into the building's lobby ahead of him.
They stepped into the elevator and let the doors slide shut behind them, enclosing them in a soothing silence. Standing side-by-side in the tiny space never felt awkward or suffocating. On the contrary, it often led them to share small talk that helped them get a few giggles out of each other, enjoying these moments hoping they could lead to something more.
They stepped out the elevator into the familiar, carpeted hallway and paused right in the middle, between their adjacent doors.
'I had fun tonight,' Y/N said softly, turning her body to face him. 'I hope we can do it again soon.'
'Me too. Minus the three-hour wait that made me look like I got stood up,' Jungkook feigned annoyance, resting his fists on his hips and shaking his head at the memory of sitting by himself in the booth.
'Ughhhh, come onnnn! I apologised a thousand times already,' she whined, rolling her eyes in defeat.
Jungkook wheezed at her pathetic tone, his stern facade melting into a bright smile. 'I'm messing with you, I swear I didn't mind. Like I said, I had fun as well, so it was definitely worth the wait.'
'Next time, we can just stay at my place,' Y/N offered, leaning her hip against her doorframe. 'I won't be late, you'll barely have to move, and you can even come in pajamas in case you can't be bothered to go back home. Win-win situation in my book.
He was already sold without her needing to give any further arguments, but he played the part so as not to look desperate to do anything just to spend more quality time with her.
'Add a home-made dinner to the offer and I’m down,' he bargained smoothly.
It was now Y/N’s turn to look at him with an almost offended expression, gasping softly. 'It was already planned! Isn’t the saying something like... the way to a man’s heart is through his stomach?'
Jungkook’s heart thumped violently under his ribcage at the bold insinuation, and he couldn't help the wide smile that broke across his face.
'Well,' he murmured softly, his voice dropping an octave as his doe eyes held hers in the dim light of the hallway, 'I guess you'll just have to prove if the theory—
A hard and frantic buzz pulled him off what was the best dream he ever had in years. Pulling his phone from under his pillow, he squinted at his latest alert on his notifications tab showing the familiar bright-red banner of his Spider-Man app, highlighting a bank robbery happening around 8th avenue. Jungkook sighed, grabbed his suit from his nightstand and put his grogginess and frustration aside to assist the police in his mission to protect the city from evil, like he always did for the past 8 years.
Sticky Fingers drabble coming later this week!!!!!!!!
I'm on holidays and have limited time to work on my wips so this short drabble is the very least I can do until I'm back home to fully work on everything I have planned for yall
(pt 1 and pt 2 are available heeeeere)
PS: CAN WE TALK ABOUT HOW BRAND NEW DAY WAS AMAZING PLEASE PLEASE PLEASE!!!!!! Tom Holland is gonna be in that spandex suit for the next 3000 years I fear
Anya is live and ready to show you everything. Watch her strip, dance, and perform exclusive shows just for you. Interact in real-time and make your fantasies come true.
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Before you could even gasp at the wreckage, Taehyung’s hand shot out, pinning you against the wall with a force that knocked the breath from your lungs. His chest was heaving, his gold eyes searching your face with a desperation that bordered on madness. You squeezed your eyes shut, hot tears finally spilling over and tracking down your cheeks, your small frame shaking under the weight of his suffocating intensity. You waited for the next blow, the next bite, or perhaps another roar of command, but the oppressive pressure in the room suddenly vanished.
When you finally opened your eyes, the silence was absolute. Taehyung was gone. The only thing remaining was the heavy expensive jacket, draped carelessly over your trembling shoulder.
You slid down the wall, your dress ruined and your shoulder throbbing where his fangs had claimed their territory. You curled into yourself, burying your face in your knees as the first sob broke through. Then another, and another, until you were shaking with the sheer exhaustion of being the center of a storm you couldn't control.
"I told him that the volatility of his aura was peaking," a bright, melodic voice drifted from the doorway. "Namjoon was absolutely right—Taehyung is damaging things again. That boy really needs to learn some temper control, or he's going to bankrupt the university in window replacements alone."
You jumped, whipping your tears away with the back of your hand and glancing up to see Professor Hobi leaning against the doorframe. His expression was a mixture of pity and amusement, his eyes scanning the shattered glass and the crushed desks with a practiced sigh.
"Professor Hobi!" you gasped, your voice sounding raw and fragile. "I... I was just... the wind, it just..."
Hobi let out a soft, knowing chuckle, stepping over a piece of floating debris that had only just finished settling. He reached out, gently patting your head as if you were a frightened kitten. "Little lamplight, for your information, this is an incredibly rare occurrence. It's practically a miracle—the first time any girl has ever actually had an effect on Taehyung's emotional stability. Usually, he's as steady as a mountain of ice. To make him break things... well, you've managed to stir something in him that hasn't been touched in centuries."
You looked up at him, your eyes red and blinking with confusion,"What... what do you mean?" you whispered, your voice cracking. "He didn't stir anything—he just attacked me. He's terrifying."
"Terrifying, yes," Hobi agreed with a playful wink, though his gaze softened with a hint of genuine sympathy. "But in the world of royal vampires, terror is often just a clumsy mask for a heart that doesn't know how to handle its own hunger."
Before you could process the implication, a heavy, weary sigh echoed from the hallway.Namjoon stepped into the room,his eyes scanning the devastation of the classroom—the shattered glass, the splintered wood, and your trembling form. He rubbed the bridge of his nose, closing his eyes for a long moment of silent prayer.
"I swear," Namjoon groaned, his voice resonating with a deep, guttural fatigue, "one of these days, I am actually going to follow through on it. I really want to quit this principal job. The paperwork for 'unexplained atmospheric anomalies' is becoming a full-time occupation."
Hobi let out a delighted chirp, leaning back against the doorframe with a mischievous grin. "Well, if you're truly resigning, Namjoon-hyung, let me know! I’ll apply for the position immediately. Imagine the school spirit if I were principal! We’d have mandatory dance breaks between every lecture and glitter in the hallways!"
Namjoon didn't even look up from the wreckage; he just stared at a particularly splintered desk leg with a look of profound exhaustion. "The thought of you in charge is exactly why I’m not resigning," he muttered, though his gaze finally softened as it landed on you. He noticed your shredded collar and the way you were clutching Taehyung’s oversized jacket around yourself. "Y/N, you're shaking. Go home. My driver is waiting outside".
"Thank you, Principle Namjoon," you whispered, your voice still thick with unshed tears. You didn't wait for another word, scrambling to your feet and clutching the heavy fabric of the jacket to your chest. You hurried out of the classroom.
Once you had vanished around the corner, the atmosphere in the room shifted back to one of weary professional concern. Namjoon leaned against a blackened chalkboard, his gaze following the empty doorway. "Jimin loves her," he murmured.
Hobi tilted his head, his playful expression fading into something more contemplative. "Love, or obsession?" he countered softly.
Namjoon sighed,He looked at the shattered windows and the lingering scent of Taehyung’s volatile aura. "Which is exactly why we need to ensure Y/N stays as far away from Taehyung as possible," he murmured, his voice heavy with a foresight that bordered on dread. "Taehyung is a catalyst. If he continues to carve his claim into her, Jimin will lose whatever fragile control he has left over himself. We can't afford a royal war."
Hobi hummed, crossing his arms as he looked toward the door where you had disappeared. "You worry too much,Namjoon. That little lamplight is practically tethered to Jimin.".
"I hope you're right," Namjoon replied, though his expression remained grim. "Now, please, for the love of everything, help me clear this wreckage before the janitors have a heart attack. I have to go handle the fallout of the festival." Without waiting for a response, he turned and strode out of the room.
Hobi remained in the silence for a moment, his gaze drifting to the spot where you had been pinned against the wall. A small, enigmatic smile played on his lips as he whispered to the empty room, "Love, obsession, or a royal collision... either way, it's going to be fascinating to watch."
The gravel of the driveway crunched beneath your feet, a rhythmic, grounding sound that contrasted the chaotic drumming of your heart. You were halfway to the sleek black sedan waiting for you when a high-pitched shriek sliced through the evening air.
"Y/N! Y/N! Wait up!"
You froze, shoulders hunching instinctively. Soomin skidded to a halt beside you, her face flushed with excitement, but her expression shifted the moment her eyes landed on you. She gasped, her gaze darting from your shredded collar to the oversized, expensive fabric of Taehyung's jacket draped over your shaking frame.
"Omo! Y/N, what happened to your dress?" she shrieked, her eyes widening in a mix of horror and sudden, manic realization. She leaned in, sniffing the air, her expression morphing into a smug, knowing grin. "Wait a minute... that’s Professor Taehyung’s jacket! Don't tell me you two actually did it? In a classroom? Right under our noses?"
"Soomin, please, stop it! It’s not what you think!" you pleaded, your voice sounding small and exhausted. You tried to pull the jacket tighter around you, wishing you could simply vanish into the upholstery of the sedan. "It's enough. Nothing happened, and nothing is happening. Please just let me go home."
But Soomin was an unstoppable force of curiosity. She grabbed your wrist, her eyes gleaming with a mixture of mischief and genuine alarm. "Forget about the dress for a second, Y/N! You need to move. Right now. There is a swarm of girls at the festival food center practically climbing over each other to get to Professor Taehyung. He’s... well, he’s not exactly himself. He’s fully drunk, and he's just sitting there while these vultures circle him. You need to come and save your 'boyfriend' from these bitches before they actually swallow him whole!"
Before you could even utter a denial, Soomin’s grip tightened, and she began dragging you backward, away from the safety of the car and back toward the heart of the festival.Your mind was a whirlwind of confusion; why would Taehyung be drinking? He was usually the embodiment of icy sobriety.
As you rounded the corner into the food center, the scene was exactly as Soomin had described. A crowd of female students had formed a tight, suffocating circle around a single table. At the center sat Taehyung. He was slouched in his chair, his tie loosened and his gaze unfocused, staring blankly at the table with an expression of profound boredom. Several girls were leaning in close, their voices a high-pitched, desperate chorus of flirtation, practically fighting for the privilege of touching his arm or offering him another glass of wine.
"See? Right there!" Soomin hissed, giving you a sharp shove forward. "Go on, save your boyfriend from the vultures before one of them actually manages to climb into his lap."
You stood at the edge of the crowd, clutching his jacket and trying to figure out how to step in. You were just a servant with no right to claim him.
Still, your chest ached seeing him like this—slumped over, unfocused, and completely vulnerable. His usual cold, strong composure was totally gone, leaving him dazed and helpless in the middle of the crowded.
A sudden, desperate instinct surged from within you,*Please, just for a moment, let the world be still,* you pleaded silently. You didn't know how, but you felt a snap in the air. Suddenly, the shrill laughter of the girls froze mid-note. A spilled glass of champagne paused in mid-air, a shimmering amber sculpture of liquid. The world turned a muted. Time had stopped.
In the absolute silence, you stepped forward. You reached the table and leaned over him, your voice a fragile whisper. "Master Taehyung, please... let's go. You can't stay here like this."
Taehyung’s head tilted slowly, his glazed eyes focusing on you with a heavy, sluggish intensity. For a moment, he looked like he might actually recognize you, but then his brow furrowed. As you reached out to touch his shoulder, he jerked away with a clumsy, sudden movement, his voice slurred and rough. "Don't touch me," he muttered, though there was no heat in the command, only a strange, wounded desperation.
You felt a sting of irritation flash through your fear. You sighed, pulling your hand back and stepping away. "Fine. Then stay here. Do whatever you want. Let them crowd you until you can't breathe."
You turned to leave, but before you could take a single step, a hand clamped around your wrist with bruising strength. With a sudden, dizzying surge of movement, Taehyung pulled you down, forcing you to sit abruptly in the chair beside him.
Then, the unthinkable happened. The proud, untouchable the man who viewed you as a mere object of curiosity—slid from his seat. He sank to the floor, his expensive trousers gathering dust as he dropped to his knees before you.
Taehyung leaned his forehead against your knee, his shoulders shaking. He looked up at you, his golden eyes no longer icy, but drowning in a desperate, intoxicated confusion. "I don't understand," he whispered, his voice cracking, stripped of all its usual authority. "I never gave it... I didn't give my heart to anyone. I locked it away centuries ago."
A single tear, tracked down his cheek. He gripped the fabric of your skirt, not with the violence of a predator, but with the desperation of a drowning man. "Then why... why did my heart become yours?"
"Master Taehyung..." you whispered, your voice barely audible over the sudden, heavy silence of the frozen world. You looked down at him, the man who usually commanded the room with a single glance, now reduced to a trembling wreck at your feet.
His hand shot up, fingers curling around your jaw with a grip that was firm yet devoid of his usual aggression. He forced your gaze to meet his, his gold eyes swimming with a cocktail of intoxication and raw, unfiltered longing. "How dare you," he rasped, his breath smelling of expensive wine. "How dare you make my heart move like this? You are just a pathetic, fragile human... so why? Why does your presence make my heart so restless?"
You blinked, confused by the vulnerability in his voice. "Master Taehyung, you're just..."
"I kept my distance for a reason!" he interrupted, his voice cracking as he pulled you closer, his forehead still resting against your knee. "There was one reason I stayed away. Because I find myself becoming weak when I touch you. Something is happening inside me—something I never wished for. This... this pathetic feeling." He looked up at you, his expression tortured. "Tell me why. Tell me why you are becoming my entire world when you are nothing but a flicker of a candle in the dark."
"Master Taehyung," you whispered, your heart hammering against your ribs, "you're really drunk. You don't know what you're saying."
A bitter, self-deprecating laugh escaped his lips. He leaned in, his voice dropping to a fragile murmur. "Should I reveal everything to you? Should I tell you how I've spent the last few hours drowning in this noise just to forget the way you look at me?" His grip on your skirt tightened. "But you would just choose Jimin, wouldn't you? You would leave me behind the moment I became honest."
Your heart softened, and without thinking, you reached out. Your thumb brushed against his cheek, wiping away the lone tear that had tracked through the dust of the floor.
"If this is that pathetic feeling," he breathed, his gaze locking onto your lips, "then let it consume me."
He didn't wait for an answer. Taehyung surged upward, his mouth crashing against yours in a kiss .It wasn't the violent, claiming kiss from the classroom; this was desperate, searching, and profoundly sad. It was the kiss of a man who had finally surrendered to the one thing he feared most: needing someone.
"I love you," he whispered against your lips.
The moment his lips sealed against yours, the psychic dam you had unwittingly built crashed down.
Time suddenly snapped back to life with a loud, sudden crash. The midnight fireworks exploded overhead, filling the sky with bright colors and loud booms,the booming echoes masking the gasp that escaped your lips as Taehyung pulled away.The crowd of girls rushed forward again, screaming and laughing. In the chaos of the noise and the shimmering light, Taehyung’s grip on you slackened, his eyes fluttering shut as the alcohol finally claimed his consciousness,leaving you trembling after his sudden confession.
----
The silence of the bedroom was absolute. You were lost in a dreamless slumber, the heavy exhaustion of the day finally claiming you. The moonlight filtered through the sheer curtains.
A shadow detached itself from the doorway. Jungkook entered with a grace, his footsteps making no sound on the plush carpet. He paused at the edge of the bed, his gaze lingering on your peaceful expression, a stark contrast to the turmoil that had defined the last few hours.
A heavy sigh escaped him, a sound weighted with a longing he rarely allowed himself to feel. "Here you are," he murmured, his voice a low vibration in the quiet room. "Sleeping so peacefully while I've spent the entire day missing you, counting every second until I could be near you again." He leaned down, his face inches from yours, his breath cold against your cheek. "Seriously, how can you be so oblivious? I can feel it in the way you look at me, the way you let me in. I know you love me too. You just haven't said it yet."
He leaned closer, pressing a lingering, soft kiss to your forehead. "Don't worry," he whispered into the silence, his voice laced with a fierce determination. "After Jimin’s marriage is settled, I’ll announce ours. I’ll let the entire world know that you belong to me, and I belong to you."
A small, wistful smile touched his lips as he gazed at your sleeping form. In the quiet of the midnight hour, the ruthless prince disappeared, replaced by a boy who simply wanted to be loved. "You know... after the marriage, we can leave the royal burdens behind. We can live as humans. Just you and me," he whispered.
Jungkook imagined a life away from the blood-soaked politics of the court, a house filled with the chaotic laughter of three children who looked like you. The sheer absurdity of the thought—a royal vampire dreaming of a domestic, human life—made him let out a soft, airy chuckle.
You shifted slightly, your hand sliding across the silk sheets until your fingers brushed against his. In your deep slumber, you instinctively curled your fingers around his hand. Jungkook froze, his heart—which rarely beat for anyone—thumping violently against his ribs. He didn't pull away. Instead, he entwined his fingers with yours, marveling at how perfectly your small hand fit within his.
"I'm really going crazy, aren't I?" he murmured, a low, genuine chuckle escaping his chest. He wanted to wake you, to pull you into his arms and demand that you say those three words back to him, but the sight of your resting face—stripped of the fear and confusion that usually clouded your eyes—was too precious to disturb. He leaned down, his lips grazing the knuckles of your entwined fingers. "I love you, Y/N. More than this crown, more than my own pride."
He remained there for a long time, anchored by the simple weight of your hand in his, dreaming of a future where the scent of old blood and royal duty was replaced by the smell of morning coffee and the laughter of children. He finally disentangled himself with a reluctant sigh, stealing one last glance at you before vanishing back into the shadows of the hallway, leaving the room to the silence of the moonlight.
Across the estate, in the oppressive grandeur of the Second Queen's mansion. The Second Queen sat perched at her mahogany desk, the scratching of her fountain pen the only sound in the room. She was meticulously signing a series of legal documents, her expression one of cold, calculated indifference.
A manager entered the room, bowing low as he held a gold-embossed envelope. "Your Highness, Prince Jimin has sent the official invitation for his wedding. He requests your presence as the guest of honor."
The Queen didn't even look up from her paperwork. With a flick of her wrist, she gestured for the invitation to be tossed aside like a piece of common trash. "Throw that distraction in the wastebin," she commanded, her voice like ice. "Did you manage to verify the reports I asked for? Tell me the results of the investigation."
The manager straightened, his voice trembling slightly. "Yes, Your Highness. Your suspicions were correct. The alignment of the bloodlines is shifting."
The Second Queen finally paused, her pen hovering just millimeters above the parchment. A slow, predatory smile curled her lips, one that didn't reach her eyes. "Three days," she murmured, her voice a low, dangerous purr. "In three days, the chaos will peak, and that crown will finally be in my hand. Jimin is far too sentimental to see the blade coming until it’s already at his throat."
The manager bowed, his forehead nearly touching the marble floor, terrified by the sheer coldness radiating from her.
----
The mansion was alive with a chaotic, breathless energy the moment the sun crested the horizon. Tonight was the wedding, and every corridor buzzed with servants rushing past carrying towering silver trays, armfuls of fresh white roses, and delicate silk drapes.
You had thrown yourself right into the middle of the bustle,Anything was better than sitting alone in your room and letting the echo of Taehyung’s drunken confession dismantle your sanity. You spent the morning hauling crates of crystal glassware and adjusting the heavy velvet runners,you hoped that by becoming a blur of productivity, you could outrun the memory of those golden, shattered eyes and the way he had called you his entire world.
You were carrying a heavy vase of cascading orchids toward the grand foyer when your foot caught on a loose piece of silk carpeting. With a sharp gasp, the world tilted, and the vase began its descent toward the polished marble floor.
Before the crash could happen, a pair of strong, steady arms locked around your waist, hauling you back from the brink of a very messy disaster.
"Careful, little human," Jimin murmured, his voice a velvet caress that vibrated against your spine. He didn't let go immediately, his arms lingering around your waist. "Since when did the royal staff delegate their heavy lifting to a fragile thing like you? You’ll bruise yourself before the ceremony even begins."
You stepped back, your face flushing as you carefully reclaimed your balance. "I just wanted to help," you stammered, clutching the vase to your chest. "The staff is overwhelmed, and I... I can't just sit in my room."
Jimin’s gaze softened, though a playful, knowing smirk tugged at the corners of his lips. He stepped closer, his presence enveloping you in that familiar scent of sandalwood and something dangerously sweet. "Helping the staff, or running away from your own thoughts?" he murmured, his voice dropping an octave. "Because you've been practically ghosting me since that night in the classroom, Y/N. I didn't realize my touch left such a lasting impression that you couldn't even look into my eyes for three days."
Your cheeks flared a deep crimson. The memory of the classroom—the blurring of pain and pleasure, the way he had claimed you with a terrifyingly gentle precision—surged back, making your knees feel weak. You opened your mouth to defend yourself, but the words died in your throat.
Suddenly, a pair of strong arms swept around you from behind, and a pair of warm lips pressed firmly against your flushed cheek.
"Morning, Princess," Jungkook’s voice vibrated against your ear, possessive and loud enough to make several nearby servants pause in their tracks.
"Morning, Master Jungkook," you managed to squeak out, trying to wedge yourself out of his iron grip.
Jimin let out a soft, melodic chuckle, stepping back just enough to give you air, though his eyes remained fixed on you. "Well, little brother," Jimin murmured, his voice dripping with a playful sort of irony, "waking up so early? I didn't think you had the discipline for the dawn hours unless there was something—or someone—worth the effort."
Jungkook didn’t break his hold, his chin resting on your shoulder as he shot a challenging look at his brother. "Someone has to make sure the help isn't being distracted by your 'sweetness,' Jimin. You should focus on your wedding preparations. It would be a tragedy if the groom was too preoccupied with his servant to actually make it to the altar."
Jimin’s expression remained unruffled,"Hmm," he hummed, a cryptic sound that didn't quite reach his eyes. With a final, lingering glance at you—Jimin stepped away, gliding down the hallway with a wave of his hand. "Enjoy your morning, Jungkook. Try not to scare the staff away before the guests arrive."
The moment Jimin vanished around the corner, the playful air evaporated, Jungkook arms tightened around you, pulling you back against his chest until you could feel the frantic thrum of his heart. He didn't let go; instead, he tilted his head, his eyes narrowing as he scanned your flushed face.
"What were you doing with him?" Jungkook demanded, his voice dropping into a low, dangerous register. "Why were you standing so close? I could practically smell his scent clinging to you from across the hall."
"I was just—" you started, your voice trembling. You tried to shift away, but he shifted with you, pinning you against the wall of the corridor. Jungkook’s gaze was obsidian, searching your eyes for a lie.
The heavy silence was shattered by a sudden, frantic gasp. A young maid, rushing toward the foyer with a massive, overfilled basin of celebratory confetti and shimmering gold petals, tripped over the hem of her own apron. She didn't just stumble; she launched forward with a spectacular lack of grace. With a loud *shloop* sound, the basin flipped upside down directly over Jungkook’s head.
A mountain of multicolored paper and glittering gold foil rained down on him, coating his perfectly styled dark hair and clinging to his expensive silk lapels. He looked less like a royal predator and more like a very grumpy, very expensive party decoration.
The maid immediately hit the floor, dropping to her knees and bowing her head in terror. "I'm so sorry, Master Jungkook! Please forgive me! It was an accident!" she wailed, her voice echoing through the hall.
Jungkook stood frozen, his eyes blinking slowly as a single piece of bright pink confetti settled on the tip of his nose. The air in the corridor turned frigid. His jaw tightened, and his chest expanded as he drew in a breath, his expression shifting into something murderous. He opened his mouth to unleash a scathing command that would likely send the poor girl into early retirement.
But before the first syllable of his rage could escape his lips, a strange sound bubbled up from your throat.
Jungkook froze, his gaze snapping from the trembling maid to your shaking shoulders. He slowly reached up, brushing a handful of bright pink confetti from his forehead, his expression a mix of bewilderment and offense. "Did you just... laugh at me?" he asked, his voice dropping into a low.
"No, Master Jungkook," you managed to gasp out, wiping a tear from your eye as you leaned against the wall for support. "It’s just... you actually look... incredibly cute like this."
The word 'cute' seemed to stun him more than the confetti had. Jungkook’s murderous expression faltered, his brow twitching as he looked down at the gold foil clinging to his eyelashes. A slow, smug smile crept across his lips, and he shook his head, sending a shower of pink paper fluttering to the floor like dying cherry blossoms.
"Cute?" he echoed, his voice regaining its characteristic velvet arrogance. He stepped closer, invading your space. "I am not 'cute,' Y/N. I am hot. I am devastatingly handsome. You are simply lucky that I allow you to gaze upon such perfection." He reached up, flicking a piece of gold foil from his cheek with a practiced, smug grace.
He turned his gaze to the trembling maid, who was still pressed against the marble floor. The murderous aura that had begun to coil around him had vanished, replaced by a rare, fleeting softness. "Go," he commanded, though his voice lacked its usual bite. "Just be more careful with your footing next time."
The maid let out a sob of relief, scrambling to her feet. She bowed frantically, her eyes darting between the glitter-covered prince and you. "Thank you, Master Jungkook! Thank you so much, Ma'am!" she chirped, casting a grateful glance toward you before disappearing around the corner as quickly as she had arrived.
Jungkook’s smug expression lingered for a moment, but as he looked at you, the arrogance in his eyes flickered. He stepped closer, his voice dropping into something quieter, almost hesitant. "By the way," he murmured, his gaze searching yours, "what was the reason we were... fighting earlier?" He paused, the silence stretching between you. "Actually, never mind. I don’t want to fight anymore. It just messes with us—with our relationship."
The word *relationship* hung in the air, shimmering and fragile. You blinked, You opened your mouth, the question *'What relationship?'* practically vibrating on your tongue, but before you could breathe the words, a booming voice echoed from the end of the gallery.
"Jungkook! get over here before the florist decides the lilies belong in the fountain!" Namjoon’s voice roared. He was standing by the grand archway, gesturing wildly toward a group of confused botanists who were currently arguing over the placement of a three-story floral installation.
Jungkook leaned in, the scent of expensive cologne swirling around him, and pressed a slow, lingering kiss to your forehead. "I'll talk to you later—properly," he murmured against your skin, his voice a low vibration that sent a shiver down your spine. Before you could even blink, he vanished toward the chaos of the floral installation, leaving you standing in the middle of the corridor.
You leaned back against the cold marble wall, your hand instinctively rising to touch the spot where his lips had rested. *Relationship.* The word echoed in your mind, looping like a broken record. What on earth was he talking about?
As you began to walk back toward your room , the weight of your own secrets pressed heavily on your chest. You needed to clarify what that kiss meant,but how could you possibly ask him without revealing the blueprint of your strategy? To admit that his affection was a tool for your awakening would be to shatter the fragile, human connection you had finally started to build with him
The silence of the corridor was suddenly punctured by the rhythmic *tap-tap-tap* of polished boots against marble. You looked up to see Taehyung approaching, his gaze fixed intently on his phone, his expression the usual mask of cold indifference. Panic flared in your gut; you weren't ready to face him.
In a moment of sheer, instinctive desperation, you lunged for the nearest cover—a massive, ornate velvet curtain that draped over a decorative alcove. You dove behind the heavy fabric, pulling the gold tassels shut just as Taehyung stepped into the space where you had been standing a second ago. You held your breath, your heart hammering against your ribs, praying that the thick velvet would swallow the sound of your frantic breathing. *Please don't see me, please just keep walking,* you pleaded silently, squeezing your eyes shut.
"Hide and seek? How quaintly childish," a low, resonant voice vibrated through the fabric.
You gasped, your eyes snapping open to find Taehyung’s face inches from yours. He hadn't even looked up from his phone to find you; he had simply sensed your presence. He looked down at you, arched an eyebrow, and leaned back with a slow, rhythmic click of his tongue.
"I wasn't hiding!" you stammered, stepping out from behind the curtain and trying to smooth down your disheveled clothes. "I just... I wasn't ready to face you yet."
Taehyung finally slid the phone into his pocket, his gaze sweeping over you with an intensity that felt like it was peeling back layers of your skin. A ghost of a smirk touched his lips, one that didn't quite reach the coldness of his eyes. "Is that so? Because the reports of your bravery are quite contrasting. I heard you were the one who managed to handle me yesterday while I was... indisposed."
Your heart skipped a beat. The memory of the festival—the way he had clung to you, the desperate confession. You looked at him, searching for a flicker of that vulnerability, and whispered, "Master Taehyung... about your conf—"
"Well, thanks," he said, his voice a flat, tonal void. "But don't dare to interfere with my personal space again. My lapses in judgment are my own to deal with, not yours to archive."
The rejection was so clinical it felt physical, like a sudden drop in temperature that left you shivering. You stood there, blinking, the echo of his desperate *'you are my entire world'* still ringing in your ears. The contrast was dizzying. He had been a man undone by his own longing only hours ago, and now he was treating you like a smudge on a painting he intended to ignore.
"Master Taehyung," you called out, your voice small and trembling as he began to turn away. "What you said to me yesterday... do you remember? You told me you loved—"
Taehyung stopped, but he didn't turn around. "I don't have time for remembering nonsense," he replied, his voice devoid of the warmth that had once broken him. "Consider it a byproduct of the alcohol. A temporary glitch in a century of silence."
Without another word, he vanished.
You stared at the empty space, your hand dropping from the velvet curtain. "So it was all a lie," you whispered to the silence, the words feeling like lead in your stomach. But as you repeated the thought, a stubborn, aching contradiction flared in your chest. If it was a lie, why did the memory of his voice—that raw, shattered confession—still feel like a brand against your skin? Could a drunk person lie with that much desperation? Could a man who has spent centuries in cold silence accidentally stumble into a truth so profound that he had to erase it the moment he woke up?
You shook your head violently, trying to dislodge the image of his golden eyes. *Stop it, Y/N,* you scolded yourself, clutching your arms across your chest. *You need to focus. You don't have time for this.*
----
The vanity mirror was a constellation of blinding bulbs, reflecting a vision in ivory and lace. Mia sat motionless as the makeup artist applied a final, shimmering glaze to her lids.
Jungkook leaned against the doorframe, his arms crossed over a chest clad in a sharp, charcoal suit. He looked at her—and a flicker of something old and bruised crossed his features before the habitual mask of arrogance slid back into place. "Well," he drawled, his voice sliding through the room, "the red accents of the decor almost match your lips. You look slightly less ugly than usual, Mia."
Mia let out a soft, melodic laugh, the sound lacking its usual brightness. She looked at the makeup artist with a gentle smile. "Could you give us a few minutes? Just a moment of privacy for the bride?"
As soon as the door clicked shut, the silence in the room became suffocating. Mia turned to Jungkook, her gaze searching his. "Be honest," she whispered, her voice trembling. "Don't tell me you've never dreamed of this. Me, in this dress... but walking toward you."
Jungkook’s expression didn't flicker, but his fingers tightened slightly against his sleeves. "Mia, stop joking. It’s unbecoming of a bride."
Mia took a deep breath, her shoulders sagging under the weight of the ivory lace. "If you ever truly loved me—even just once, in a way that mattered—please, Jungkook. Don’t attend this wedding. Stay away from this. For the sake of whatever we used to be."
Jungkook’s expression remained a frozen mask, though his gaze flickered toward the window, where the first guests were beginning to arrive. "Do you really think I’m the kind of man to mess up your wedding?" he asked, his voice sliding into that familiar, velvet arrogance. "Do you actually believe I’m that desperate for your attention that I’d forgot the spectacle of your union with my brother?"
"Jungkook, please," she whispered, a single tear threatening to ruin the shimmering glaze on her lids.
"Well, sorry to inform you," he replied, stepping closer to adjust a stray lock of her hair.
Mia let out a broken sob and suddenly lunged forward, wrapping her arms around his waist in a crushing hug. She buried her face in his charcoal suit, her voice muffled and desperate. "I'm sorry, Jungkook. I'm so sorry, but I didn't have a choice."
----
The grand oak doors swung open, the heavy brass creaking loudly against the sudden silence of the sanctuary. All eyes turned as Mia stepped onto the marble aisle, a vision of ivory lace and blinding silver thread.
Jimin stood at the altar, waiting with immaculate poise in his dark velvet coat. As she glided up the steps toward him, he extended a gloved hand to steady her. Leaning in close, his voice slid like silk into her ear. "You look beautiful, Mia... though sadly, it's all going to waste."
Mia’s gaze flickered, a momentary flash of uncertainty crossing her face, but she stepped closer, her grip on the bouquet tightening. "I can't even explain how long I've been waiting for this, Jimin," she whispered back.
The ceremony proceeded with a dizzying, choreographed precision. When the time came for the exchange of rings, Mia took the sliver band and slid it onto Jimin’s finger. The metal clicked into place, a permanent seal of their union. But as she pulled her hand away, her voice lost its sweetness. "You know," she murmured, barely audible to anyone but the man she had just wed, " She was such an idiot for loving a monster."
Before Jimin could process her words, a sharp, choked gasp tore from his throat.
His eyes widened in shock as a dark, violent stream of blood spilled from his lips. He clutched wildly at his chest, his knees buckling as he collapsed heavily onto the altar carpet, blood staining the white fabric around him. The guests gasped in unison, the celebratory atmosphere curdling into instant horror.
Hobi and Namjoon lunged forward, their instincts screaming to intervene, while Taehyung’s face shifted from cold indifference to raw panic. He was already mid-stride, his hand reaching out to catch his brother before the royal guards could even react.
"Don't you dare move a single muscle."
The voice was like a whip, cracking through the chaos. Jin stepped out from the shadows of the sanctuary, his expression one of chilling composure. He stood with an air of effortless authority, his gaze sweeping over the panicked brothers. "If you value the life of your youngest brother, Jungkook,And my men are currently surrounding the mansion."
"Guards! Go bring Y/N here immediately!" Mia commanded, her voice slicing through the heavy, panicked atmosphere of the sanctuary. Several guards hesitated briefly before rushing toward the exit to follow her orders.
Jimin lay gasping on the crimson-stained carpet, his hands clutching weakly at his chest as dark blood trickled steadily from the corner of his lips. He forced his heavy eyelids open, staring up at her in disbelief. "Mia... why?" he choked out, his voice a frail rasp.
"What the hell are you doing, Mia?!" Taehyung snarled, his eyes flashing a dangerous crimson as every muscle in his body coiled to strike. "This is a wedding! Have you completely lost your mind?!"
Mia’s gaze flickered over to Taehyung, her expression softening for a split second before hardening into pure stone. "Oppa, please... stay out of this," she pleaded quietly, her tone laced with a tragic finality.
"Where is Jungkook?!" Namjoon demanded, his powerful aura flaring around him as he glared at Jin . "What have you done to him ?!"
"Jimin! Stay with us!" Hobi yelled, his instincts screaming at him to rush forward, yet forced to stay frozen in place.
"Mia..." Jimin gasped again, his vision swimming as the lethal toxin began to take hold. "Why...?"
Mia took a slow step toward his trembling form, looking down at him with a chilling, hysterical laugh that vibrated through the silent room. "You have no idea how long I’ve been dying to see this, Jimin," she hissed, her voice trembling with years of suppressed rage. "To watch you on your knees, begging for the last drop of your life. This poison is slow... it’s going to destroy you from the inside out. Tell me, why did you do it to her?! She loved you! She betrayed me just to protect you, and how did you repay her?! Why did you kill my sister?!"
Before the words could even settle, the sanctuary doors burst open once more. Two guards dragged Y/N into the grand hall—her head hung limply, completely unconscious as her feet dragged against the polished marble.
"Leave her alone!" Taehyung roared, taking an explosive step forward, his fangs fully bared. "Don't you dare touch her!"
Mia didn't even turn to look at him. Her bloodshot eyes snapped directly onto Jin. "Kill her, Jin!" she barked, her voice shrill and unhinged. "Kill her right now!"
Jin’s cold composure didn't break, but his eyes narrowed into razor-sharp slits as he fixed Mia with a stern, authoritative glare. He raised a hand, his tone dropping into a low, dangerous growl. "Control yourself, Mia," Jin warned, his voice cutting through her hysteria like ice. "We can't do that. We stick to what we decided—do not forget the plan."
"I promised myself I would get Jimin on his knees, taking the last breath of his life," Mia hissed, her eyes wild as she glared down at the dying prince. "And I want Jimin to see his love dying right in front of his eyes!"
Taehyung’s chest heaved with fury. Sparks of dark energy flared in his palms as he tried to unleash his powers, but the energy sputtered and died before it could even form. "What...?" he gasped, panicking. Namjoon and Hobi tried to summon their own abilities to break forward, but their bodies refused to obey.
Mia let out a cruel, mocking laugh at their desperation. "Don't waste your time on this. Your powers are completely locked—did you really think I wouldn't prepare for royal blood?"
She lunged forward, raising the dagger to plunge it into the heart of the unconscious girl, but Taehyung threw himself directly in front of the blade. "Stay out of this, Oppa!" Mia screamed, her voice cracking with unhinged obsession. "She snatched Jungkook away from me!"
Without his vampire strength, Taehyung struggled frantically to block the strike, but the scuffle turned chaotic. The silver blade flashed through the air—and sank deep into the chest of the body on the floor.
A sickening silence fell over the room.
Blood pooled onto the white marble, and Taehyung went completely blank, his hands dripping with red as he stared at the lifeless body in horror. "No... no, no, no..."
Suddenly, every weapon held by Jin’s men—every gun, blade, and dagger—began to violently vibrate. One by one, the metal was ripped from the guards' hands, rising into the air and hovering ominously beneath the cathedral ceiling.
Jin’s cold composure instantly shattered into pure shock. "What...?"
Slowly, measured footsteps echoed down the cathedral stairs.
You walked down into the sanctuary, your eyes glowing with a terrifying, raw energy that made the stone walls tremble. Your voice was a cold, deadly thread that cut through the frozen room.
"What did my mom do wrong?"
Mia whirled around, her breath catching in her throat as her eyes darted between you and the floor. "How...? I just—"
When Mia looked back at the corpse on the carpet, the illusion faded. The girl she had just stabbed was not you—it was merely a maid dressed in your clothes.
"WHY DID YOU KILL MY MOM?!" you screamed, a violent wave of telepathic power detonating from your body.
The blast hit the room like a physical shockwave. Guards, Mia, and the brothers were all slammed violently against the stone walls, pinned firmly in place by an invisible, crushing weight.
Jin gasped as the force wrapped tightly around his neck, lifting his feet completely off the marble floor. He clawed helplessly at his throat, his face draining of color as he looked into your tear-streaked, furious eyes.
"Y/N... listen... it's—" Jin choked out, struggling to draw a single breath.
You stepped closer, the floating weapons pointing directly at his heart, your voice laced with devastating heartbreak and uncontrollable fury. "Why did you take my mom from me?!"
"Y/N, stop!" Jin choked out, his fingers clawing uselessly at the invisible force gripping his throat, his feet dangling several inches above the marble floor.
"I ASKED WHY!" you screamed, your voice echoing with a terrifying, supernatural resonance that caused the grand stained-glass windows to rattle violently in their lead frames.
Mia, pinned flat against the cold stone wall beside him, gritted her teeth against the crushing pressure. "Because she gave birth to a monster!" she spat back, her eyes wide with unhinged hatred. "Because she refused to—"
"Then maybe I should just kill all human beings!" you snarled. The air in the grand sanctuary turned suffocatingly frigid, the hundreds of floating weapons vibrating as their sharp points angled directly at the panicked guards and Jin's heart.
"No, Y/N, you can't!" Mia gasped, genuine horror breaking through her hysterical facade. "You can't kill innocent people!"
"MY MOM WAS INNOCENT TOO!"
The raw energy detonating from your chest shattered the nearest chandeliers, showering the altar in glittering glass.
Seeing the sheer destruction unfolding, Jin gasped out a frantic warning to Mia. "Mia... stop her! She can destroy everything... distract her mind!"
Mia closed her eyes and took a deep, shuddering breath. Channeling her mental abilities, she forced a wave of illusion magic through the chaotic air, projecting a vivid vision directly before your eyes.
The floating blades blurred. Suddenly, standing right in front of you were the warm, smiling figures of your past—your mom, your brother, and your halmoni. They looked at you with gentle, loving eyes, opening their arms to welcome you home.
The overwhelming rage in your chest flickered. Your glowing eyes softened, tears spilling down your cheeks as a faint, heartbroken smile touched your lips. "Mom..." you whispered, stepping forward toward the illusion, your grip on the telekinetic hold faltering for a fraction of a second.
"Gotcha."
A low, smooth voice broke through the silence.
Standing directly behind Mia, Jimin was suddenly upright—the dark blood wiped cleanly from his mouth, his golden eyes burning with lethal, royal vitality. In one swift, blinding motion, he reached out and snatched a glowing, shadowy orb directly out of Mia's grasp, absorbing the sealed energy back into his own veins.
Jimin tilted his head, a dark, dangerously playful smirk spreading across his features as he felt his strength roar back to life.
"It's really bad manners, baby," Jimin purred, his voice dropping into an icy, lethal register as he looked down at Mia. "Stealing my brother's power and using it on us."
Mia and Jin both froze, their faces draining of all color in absolute shock.
Mia stumbled back against the altar, her breath coming in ragged, disbelieving hitches. "How... how are you standing?!" she gasped, staring at Jimin in pure horror. "That poison—it was meant to liquefy your internal organs!"
Jimin raised a hand, casually wiping a stray drop of blood from the corner of his lips. A sharp, mocking smirk curved his mouth. "Oh, baby..." he cooed, tapping his index finger against his temples. "Do I have 'idiot' written across my forehead? I’m a royal prince".He chuckled softly, his eyes glinting. "I'm a really good actor, right?"
Mia’s voice cracked, tears of frustration spilling over her mascara. "How long...? How long did you know?!"
Jimin’s smirk faded, replaced by a cold, heavy sadness. "I genuinely loved your sister, Mia," he said quietly, his voice carrying the weight of a painful past. "I never betrayed her. I trusted you... I thought of you as family."
Mia let out a harsh, bitter laugh that echoed through the shattered sanctuary. "Love?! A monster like you doesn't know how to love! All you know how to do is destroy everything you touch!"
"Jimin, we don't have time for this!" Namjoon shouted, his voice slicing through the confrontation as he shielded his face from the pressure roaring through the cathedral. "Look at her! We need to stop Y/N, she’s completely out of control!"
Jimin turned toward you, his expression darkening as he took a firm step forward to reach you. But before he could even get close, an invisible, crushing wall of raw telekinetic force repelled him, throwing up a barrier that no one could cross.
Mia cowered against the altar, staring at you in absolute panic. "What did you do to her?!"
"Jimin, I think your blood made her like this!" Namjoon shouted over the howling wind, his sharp eyes analyzing the ancient, glowing aura swirling around you. "When you gave her your blood, it unlocked something dormant!"
"We need to stop her right now!" Hobi pleaded, gritting his teeth against the sheer force tearing through the room. "Otherwise, she's going to destroy everything in this world!"
Jimin braced himself to force his way through the lethal storm, but a shadow suddenly blurred past him.
Before anyone could react, Taehyung lunged straight into the eye of the storm. Ignoring the pressure crushing his lungs and the sheer energy threatening to tear him apart, he wrapped his arms tightly around you, pulling your trembling, radiating body flush against his chest.
"Y/N, stop!" Taehyung begged, his voice raw and desperate right beside your ear as he held you close. "Please, Y/N... stop. This isn't you."
The moment Taehyung’s arms wrapped tightly around you, the crushing pressure in the sanctuary violently flickered.
"Get off me!" you sobbed, your voice distorted by the raw, crackling power echoing off the shattered walls. "None of you understand... you don't know what they took from me!"
"I don't care about them," Taehyung murmured fiercely, tightening his hold even as the floating glass and sharp blades sliced thin red lines across his skin. He buried his face into the crook of your neck, his chest heaving against yours. "Please... don't turn into a monster like us, Y/N."
Those words pierced through the blinding haze of your rage.
Your breath hitched, the glowing light in your eyes flickering wildly before dying out completely. The immense, suffocating power instantly vanished, and the hundreds of hovering blades crashed heavily to the marble floor with a deafening, echoing clatter.
Without the surge of ancient power sustaining you, the sheer exhaustion and heartbreak hit you all at once. Your knees buckled, your body going completely limp as the darkness swallowed you.
---
You slowly fluttered your eyes open, your vision blurred and unfocused as the heavy darkness gradually receded. The crushing, suffocating weight of Ava's power was gone, leaving your body feeling completely hollow, drained, and aching.
As your surroundings slowly came into focus, you felt a cold, steady pressure around your fingers. Sitting right at the edge of the bed was Taehyung, his head resting near your arm, his hands tightly holding yours as if he hadn't let go for a single second.
The moment he felt your hand twitch, his head snapped up.
You winced softly, trying to push yourself up from the mattress, but before you could even sit up properly, Taehyung pulled you straight into his arms. He wrapped his arms around you in a tight, frantic hug, burying his face into the crook of your neck as his chest heaved. The strength in his hold was almost bruising, as if he were trying to fuse your body to his to ensure you wouldn't vanish into the ether again.
"Have you lost your mind?" he murmured, his voice ragged and stripped of its usual coldness. He pulled back just enough to look at you, his eyes searching yours with a raw, terrifying intensity. "Why would you let Ava’s power consume you like that? Do you have any idea what happens when that kind of grief takes over? If she had fully consumed you, Y/N... I would have lost you forever."
"Master Taehyung..." you whispered softly, your voice barely a breath.
When you looked closer at his face, your heart dropped. Tears were shimmering in Taehyung’s eyes—actual, glistening tears that threatened to spill over. The sight felt wrong; this was the man who viewed emotions as weaknesses, who had treated you like a mere object for so long. Yet here he was, trembling against you, his composure not just cracked, but shattered into a thousand jagged pieces.
"Don't ever do that again," he choked out, his voice cracking under the weight of a vulnerability he had spent years burying. "Don't let that power swallow you. I can't... I can't lose you to a ghost, Y/N."
The intensity of his embrace was overwhelming, his muscular arms locking you against him so tightly that the air was squeezed right out of your lungs. Your head rested against his collarbone, "Hmm... Taehyung... I can't breathe," you managed to wheeze, your small hands instinctively pushing against his chest.
"Yah, Taehyung! Let the poor girl breathe before you actually crush her ribs!"
The familiar, teasing voice of Hobi cut through the heavy atmosphere. He stepped into the room,he moved forward with a soft sigh, gently placing a hand on Taehyung’s shoulder to nudge him back. "Alright, alright, give her some space, you giant clingy puppy."
Hobi leaned over, pressing two fingers to your wrist and glancing at your pale complexion with a professional, diagnostic eye. He hummed softly, his gaze softening as he looked at your exhausted state. "Aww, look at our little Taehyungie," he cooed, glancing back at the taehyung with a smirk. "He’s completely smitten. But seriously, Tae, she’s drained. Her core is flickering; she needs absolute rest and a lot of hydration if she’s going to recover from that kind of psychic burnout."
Taehyung stiffened, the raw vulnerability that had just filled his eyes snapping shut like a book. He abruptly released his grip on you, stepping back so quickly he almost tripped over the edge of the bed. He cleared his throat, his expression shifting back into that familiar, stony mask, though his fingertips were still trembling. "Smitten? Don't be ridiculous," he spat, though the bite in his voice lacked its usual venom. "I was simply worried about the loss of her blood. She’s a valuable resource, and it would be a waste of a perfectly good servant if she burned herself out before I was finished with her."
He didn't look at you as he spoke. He couldn't. The lie was clumsy and transparent, a desperate attempt to rebuild the wall he had just let you see crumble. Without another word, he turned on his heel and stormed out of the room, the heavy mahogany door clicking shut behind him with a finality that left a lingering chill in the air.
Hobi sighed, shaking his head as he looked at you. "He's such a disaster," he whispered, his voice warm. He reached out, gently brushing a stray lock of hair from your forehead. "Don't mind him, Y/N. He doesn't know how to handle a heart that actually beats for someone else. Just focus on sleeping. The house is... well, 'chaotic' is an understatement, but for now, you're safe."
"Where are Master Jimin and Master Jungkook?" you asked softly, looking up at Hobi. "Is Master Jungkook okay?"
Hobi’s expression softened, though a flicker of pity crossed his eyes. He paused, glancing toward the hallway where the heavy silence of the estate felt oppressive. "Jungkook is... well, he's in a state," Hobi admitted, his voice dropping. "He’s in shock, Y/N. he really was close to Mia. Seeing that side of her—the betrayal." He gave you a small, encouraging smile, his hand lingering on your shoulder. "As for Jimin, he's recovering. But you, my little lamplight, need to focus on resting. You’ve carried the weight of an entire dead queen today. You've done more than enough."
With a gentle pat on your hand, Hobi stepped back, leaving you in the dim, velvet-shrouded quiet of the room.
Slowly, you pushed yourself off the bed, your legs feeling like lead. You navigated the winding corridors of the royal wing, When you reached the heavy double doors of Jimin’s private chambers, you didn't knock. You pushed them open softly, the sound of a melodic, melancholy chord greeting you before you even saw him.
Jimin was sitting on the wide window sill, the soft moonlight filtering through the glass and casting a silvery glow over his sharp features. His long fingers danced effortlessly across the strings of an acoustic guitar, pulling a sweet, mournful melody from the wood.
Without saying a word, you walked across the plush rug and sat down on the bench beside him.
Jimin didn't stop playing, but the ghost of a smile touched his lips. "Little human," he murmured, the guitar humming a low, resonant vibration that seemed to echo in the silence of the room. "You should be resting. You’ve done more today than most do in a lifetime. I honestly don't know how to return the favor of your help, and for that... I am sorry. My blood... it made you lose yourself. It made you crazy for a moment."
You leaned your head against the cool mahogany of the bench, the exhaustion finally catching up to you. "What will happen now?" you asked softly. "To Mia... and the Vampire Hunting Society?"
Jimin’s fingers slowed, coming to a halt on a lingering, melancholy chord. His gaze shifted to the horizon, his golden eyes reflecting the distant city lights. "As for Jin, his reign as the head of the society is over. He broke the most sacred laws of our kind to orchestrate this chaos. He will face the consequences of the council; the society, as we knew it, is effectively ending. And Mia..." He paused, his voice softening into something complex and painful. "I won't touch her. Despite everything, she is still precious to me."
You remained silent, the weight of his admission hanging in the air. There was a strange, tragic kinship in the way they all clung to the people who had hurt them the most.
"You could ask me," Jimin said suddenly, his voice a low hum that vibrated through the bench. He didn't look at you, his fingers hovering just above the guitar strings. "You could ask if I truly killed Mia’s sister. You could demand the truth of how she died, or why I let her believe it was my hand that did it."
You looked straight back into his eyes and shook your head gently. "I don't need to. As much as I understand you, I know you wouldn't do that. Not in the way they think."
A genuine, surprised smile curved Jimin’s lips, a rare expression that didn't carry the usual mask of a performer. For a moment, the heavy tension of the royal bloodline seemed to vanish, leaving only the two of you in the silvery moonlight.
"You're far too kind for your own good, Y/N," he murmured, the guitar finally resting against his thigh. "It's a dangerous trait to have in this house."
You shifted your weight, your voice barely a whisper. "Are you... really okay, Master Jimin?"
"Well," Jimin said, the ghost of a smile lingering as he leaned back, the guitar shifting against his leg. "Are you expecting to find me sobbing in a corner, clutching a handkerchief and mourning my lost love?"
You let out a soft, tired giggle, the sound small and fragile in the vastness of the room. "No... just that the poison was so strong. I thought you might be in pain."
Jimin’s gaze softened, but there was a profound, ancient emptiness in his eyes, "pain is an old friend, Y/N. As for the tears..." He paused, a dry, melodic chuckle escaping his throat. "I think I forgot how to cry many centuries ago. But your concern is... refreshing."
"Master Jimin," you whispered, your voice trembling as you clung to the fabric of his sleeve. The softness of the moment shifted, the gratitude for his survival dissolving into a sudden, sharp ache in your chest. "Please... don't let anyone go. Whoever did this, whoever killed my mother... please don't let them just walk away."
"Why settle for the scraps of a broken world, little human, when we could simply rewrite the rules ourselves?" Jimin murmured, the melody of his voice now carrying a dangerous, magnetic edge.
You blinked, the exhaustion making your thoughts sluggish. "What do you mean?"
Jimin pulled you firmly onto his lap, his long fingers sliding between yours until your hands were tightly interlocked. He leaned down, his breath cool against your ear as he whispered with a quiet, desperate intensity, "I need you by my side, Y/N. I can't do this alone."
Before you could respond, his lips brushed against the curve of your neck. You felt the sharp, sudden sting of his fangs piercing your skin, followed immediately by a strange, intoxicating warmth that spread through your veins. As Jimin drank, the sheer exhaustion and heavy burden of the day washed over you, pulling you down into a deep, dreamless sleep.
A Few Days Later — The Re-Coronation Ceremony
You adjusted the heavy velvet dress one last time, your eyes fixing on your reflection in the gilded glass. "I need to clear this thing," you murmured to yourself, your chest tight with a strange, lingering dread.
Leaving your chambers, you made your way straight to Jimin's room, pushing the heavy door open without hesitation.
"Jimin, I need to talk with you. It's important," you said urgently.
Jimin, standing before a long mirror while adjusting the silver embroidery of his royal coat, glanced at you through the reflection. "Go ahead, little human, but hurry up," he said smoothly, a half-smile on his lips. "The council has already come."
Before you could open your mouth to explain, the doors burst open, and Namjoon stepped into the room, his face dark with urgency. "Jimin, the Second Queen has arrived. You need to attend to her right now."
Jimin paused, his fingers lingering on the silver cuff of his sleeve. He let out a heavy, weary sigh that seemed to deflate his poised posture for a split second. He turned to you, his golden eyes shimmering with a mixture of apology and impatience. "I will listen to this later, little human," he murmured, gently brushing your shoulder as he pivoted toward the door. "Duty doesn't wait for conversations, and my mother is not a woman who enjoys being kept waiting."
The atmosphere in the Great Hall was suffocating, thick with the scent of ancient incense and the cold, oppressive energy of the Vampire Council. You stood off to the side, feeling small in your velvet gown, watching as the council members gathered in a semicircle of obsidian stone. This was the Re-Coronation, the moment designed to solidify Jimin’s return to the throne and restore order to a fractured kingdom. The air hummed with the anticipation of a formal decree, the silence so profound that you could hear the frantic beating of your own heart.
Jimin stepped forward, the light catching the regal curve of his jaw. The High Councilor raised a golden scepter, preparing to voice the final confirmation of Jimin's sovereignty. "By the laws of the First Blood, we hereby finalize the ascension of Prince Jimin as the King of—"
In a split second, a horrific, metallic screech ripped through the air.
Dozens of thick, dark iron chains—dripping with corrosive magic—erupted out of nowhere. In a violent, chaotic flash, the sharp, barbed links pierced Jimin’s body from every angle. The heavy metal tore brutally through his chest, back, and shoulders, driving in and out of his torso until wide, gaping holes were ripped right through him.
A collective scream of pure terror erupted from the court. Jimin gasped violently, a flood of crimson spilling past his lips as his eyes widened in shock.
With a sickening snap, the dark chains violently retracted, pulling back across the altar and winding straight into the pale wrists and outstretched hands of Jungkook.
Jungkook stood in the shadows, his hands smoking with dark aura and his eyes burning a terrifying, absolute crimson.
The entire sanctuary froze in utter horror as Jimin’s shattered, lifeless body crashed heavily onto the cold marble floor.
Jungkook stepped out from the shadows, his presence suffocating and absolute. He didn't look at the carnage he had created; his gaze was fixed on the throne. The Second Queen stepped forward, her voice ringing out with a triumphant, chilling clarity that silenced the gasps of the court. "The First Blood has fallen!" she declared, her eyes gleaming with a long-awaited victory. "Prince Jimin is dead. By the right of the strongest and the will of the bloodline, Jungkook is now the King of the Vampires!"
"Jimin!" You screamed, your voice breaking as you lunged forward, your velvet dress sweeping across the floor. You reached him, your hands trembling as you hovered over the gaping holes in his chest. "Jimin, wake up! Please, wake up!" You looked around frantically, pleading with the council, with the guards, with anyone. "Help him! Someone help him!"
But the court remained paralyzed. The nobility shifted away from you, their faces masks of indifference or fear. They were no longer looking at a dying prince; they were looking at a new, terrifying king.
Across the hall, Taehyung’s jaw clenched, his eyes flaring with pure shock and fury as he made a move to step out and stop this madness. But before he could take a single step, Mia darted out from the shadows, grabbing his arm tightly and pulling him back into the dark corner.
"Please, oppa, don't step out!" Mia whispered urgently, her voice shaking. She clung to him, her eyes wide with terror as she glanced at the crimson-eyed monster on the dais. "Don't go to him. That isn't the Jungkook we know. This is something else."
"Help him! Please, why isn't anyone helping him?!" you sobbed, looking frantically around the grand room at the councilors, the elders, and the guards. But no one moved. Every single vampire bowed their heads in terrified submission, completely paralyzed by fear.
Before your hands could touch Jimin, a cold, crushing grip locked tightly around your wrist.
You were violently yanked backward, crashing hard against a solid, dark-clad chest. You looked up in horror to find Jungkook staring down at you, his eyes glowing with dark, merciless dominance. He didn’t look at the broken remains of his brother on the floor; he looked only at you, his expression a terrifying mixture of triumph and obsession.
"Look at them, Y/N," Jungkook murmured, his voice a low, predatory rumble that vibrated against your spine. "The Council, the nobles, the guards... they aren't helping him because they are terrified. They are terrified of me." He tightened his grip on your wrist, his fingers digging into your skin with a possessive force that left no room for escape. "And they should be. I’ve spent my entire life playing the part of the younger brother, the second choice, the shadow. But today, the shadow has swallowed the light."
You struggled against him, your eyes darting back to Jimin’s motionless form. "He's dying! Jungkook, please, let me go to him! You can't just—"
"Let him die," Jungkook murmured, his voice devoid of the warmth you had once glimpsed in the quiet moments of your shared laughter. He leaned down, his lips grazing your ear, though the gesture felt less like a caress and more like a claim. "It was his own fault for thinking he could keep the things that belong to me. He tried to steal the sunlight, the crown, and you."
He shifted his grip, pulling you flush against his chest with a sudden, jarring force that made your breath hitch. His eyes, swirling with a dark, iridescent hunger, scanned your tear-streaked face with a chilling sort of fascination. "Stop wasting your tears on another man, my queen," he whispered, the title sounding like a sentence rather than a compliment. "The play is over. Come, let us go home. We have so much to discuss, and I find I have very little patience left for sharing."
"Let me go!" you shrieked, your voice echoing through the oppressive silence of the hall. You fought against him, your heels skidding on the polished marble, but it was like fighting a mountain. You lunged one last time toward Jimin’s cooling body, your fingertips grazing the velvet of his sleeve, before Jungkook’s arm wrapped around your waist and hoisted you off your feet.
He didn't even flinch at your resistance. Instead, his grip tightened possessively, anchoring you firmly against his solid chest as his crimson eyes swept over the kneeling, silent court one last time.
"Let's go home," Jungkook murmured low against your hair, his voice smooth, cold, and utterly relentless. "We have a lot to talk about."
With a single, swift turn, he carried you away from the bloody altar, ignoring your frantic thrashes and desperate tears as the heavy oak doors of the sanctuary slammed shut behind you, sealing Jimin's fate in the dark.
A/N: What an absolute emotional wrecking ball of a chapter From Taehyung’s raw confession to Jungkook’s brutal takeover, everything has completely shattered. What do you think is going to happen next now that Dark King Jungkook has claimed the throne and taken Y/N? Leave a comment down below with your theories and reactions—I’d love to read what you think will happen in the next chapter!
Summary:- As BTS's new private stylist, you live, work, and travel with them. But fame has warped them.
You’re treated like a possession...something only they should have access to. They monitor who you talk to, what you wear, how you smile. They sabotage your chances to leave. The world sees glamour. You live in fear.
Their love burns too hot. Their jealousy cuts too deep. And you're one headline away from a breakdown....or a scandal that could ruin them all.
Chapter 1
Chapter 2
Chapter 3
Chapter 4
Chapter 5
The green room was entirely empty except for Park Jimin. He sat on the velvet sofa, his legs crossed, carefully buffing his fingernails. When you walked in to pack up the remaining accessories, he didn't look up, but a small, knowing smile tugged at the corner of his lips.
"Sora-ya," he purred, his voice dripping with honey. "Leave the boxes for a second. Come here."
You approached him cautiously, your hands clasped in front of you. "Yes, Jimin-oppa?"
Jimin finally looked up, his eyes curved into beautiful, crescent crescents. Without a word, he reached into his pocket and pulled out a sleek, black smartphone. Your stomach dropped. It was your phone...the one you had left charging in the locked wardrobe room.
"Your phone kept buzzing while you were with Namjoon," Jimin said softly, tilting the screen toward you.
On the lock screen, there was a text notification from an old university friend, Minho. ‘Hey, you free this weekend? Long time no see!’
"I took the liberty of answering for you," Jimin continued, his voice dropping an octave, losing all of its warmth. He tapped the screen, showing you the reply he had sent before permanently deleting the contact. ‘I’m permanently busy. Do not contact me again.’
"Jimin..." your voice cracked, tears stinging the backs of your eyes. "He’s just an old classmate."
Jimin stood up, stepping so close that his chest brushed against yours. He reached up, his cool, rings-adorned fingers gently wiping away a stray tear that had escaped down your cheek. His touch was incredibly tender, but his eyes were ice.
"You don't need classmates, Sora. You have us," Jimin whispered, bopping your nose playfully as if he hadn't just severed your last tie to the outside world. "We are your family now. Don't make me get upset again, okay? It ruins my skin for the cameras."
summary: He’s the best dance in Neuron, and you just happen to end up in a tie with him. That’s it. Nothing else - no more dance offs or congratulations - just lingering eyes that make you thrive for the whole two months you’ve only been there. But one thing leads to another and you realize after he has his lips on your neck at you’ve craved him nightly.
warnings: a quick/short one for u's which is a request from my bsf and a gift for 150 followers on tumblr (yayyy), fast burn, barely any foreplay, breast play, sex with protection, mutual pinning, teeny amount of jealousy, soft dom hoseok, harsh language, possible grammar/typo mistakes ... enjoy!
wc: 4880
⊱ ۫ ׅ ✧ ─ Flashes of baggy clothing waved through the midnight air, the cling of human body that synchronized with the upbeat hiphop music shaking the grounds below.
You moved with your own precision. Eyes closed and your arms wrapped around the lines of your stomach where your sports bra failed to reach - it was as if you were in your own world and didn't have racks of eyes on you.
You found Neuron not too long ago.
Moving to a city that was way to far for your liking - where the usual stretch of dirt and trees faded into long lines of industrial buildings or how hoards of sheep turned into hoards of people - you wondered just what could make you enjoy a place like this.
And one day, hands clutching a soda you bought from a convenience store that already knew your name although being a new visitor of two weeks, your ears perked up at the sound of cheers and vibrations so harsh it froze you in your place with pure curiosity.
You stepped towards the invisible pull which in that case had been the speakers and stopped once your toes reached the edge of a staircase. Opening up was a full open space completely scattered with a litter of frames moving in a beauty of harmonization.
But that crowd was nothing compared to the one next to it.
Formed in an almost perfect circle, a large group of people sung and cheered while orbiting a total of two dancers in the middle, something your brain immediately recognized as a dance off.
You wedged into the back of the crowd, your soda forgotten in your hand as you watched the two figures at the center. It wasn't just dancing, more like a war of movement, each beat of the song serving as a blade in their sparring.
One of them - the one with the dark, windswept hair and an impossibly sharp jawline that contrasted to his smooth movement - moved with a fluidity that crawled on the supernatural. It was Hoseok, although you hadn't known yet at the time.
The crowd erupted into a roar as he transitioned into a floor-level sequence, his limbs spinning in a blur of controled aggression. His opponent scrambled to keep but, but the difference was clear.
Hoseok was playing a different game entirely.
"Damn, Jay," the opponent heaved as he ran his fingers through his drenched, blue hair. He was sweating precisely and although looked like he was seconds away from the brink of pure exhaustion- he offered Hoseok a tight smile. "You got me again."
Hoseok stood up abruptly, a thin sheet of sweat glistening on his skin as he shook the other guy's hand. His lips were slightly parted, cheeks flushed as if he were too tired. But he stayed put. Continued the long streak he held of staying like a man who held power with a body that defied physics.
Your lips curled up into a smile.
You've always had a thing for dancing after all.
Setting your soda down onto the tile, you ushered past the waves of people with half-assed apologizes while your body seemed to beam at the idea of his eyes landing on you. Of him, that absolute menace of a dancer, to lock eyes with you as you moved right along with him.
Hoseok was still catching his breath, his chest rising and falling in sharp movements, when you stepped onto the center tile.
He didn't more or blink, just watched you with a slow tilt in his head. A dangerous curiosity replaced the competitive edge that had been there only seconds before.
"And you are?" His voice was calm as if his lungs weren't grasping for what air he had left. He approached you, frame towering over yours with eyes that only made your jaw clench. "I'm afraid I haven't seen these pretty legs before."
"I'm someone who's bored," you replied, stripping your shirt over your shoulders until the streetlamps ahead had soaked raw into your shoulders. "And I'm guessing you are Jay?"
His eyes flickered to your sports bra, your lips, then finally back to your eyes. "That's what they call me here. But you... you can call me Hoseok."
"Hoseok," you repeated with a slow muse. "Wanna dance off?"
"I see why not," a slow grin adjoined his lips.
You flashed a smile back at him as you paced towards the middle of the circle and he followed, chin up until he was only a few steps right ahead of you.
The song started.
You stood still for a second, soaking down the beats per minute and if a slow or intense choreo would fit better. And he was too, gently bopping his head to the rythym with the skill you knew all too well he had.
You moved your body once you got a simple hint of the vibration. You left your movements fluid and sharp, mirroring the energy he gave which you absorbed from the shadows.
Hoseok's eyes narrowed just as a low and appreciative hum vibrated in his throat. Without breaking eye contact, he surged back into motion.
He moved closer, entering your space, his shadow falling over you as he circled around you. Everytime you extended an arm, he caught the movement, spiraling into a rotation that kept both of you locked in a tight loop.
He was so close to you, watching. You could smell his scent - dark and musky, mixed with the sweaty exhaustion that gave his cheeks a warm coral. You spun, your hair whipping across your face. And as you looked up, you found him inches away with movements that were ever so hypnotizing.
The crowd cheered with every motion and the intensity of the eye contact the two of you didn't dare to break.
It dragged on and on, both of you getting exhausted. He was a bit drowsy with the motion, being the fact that he had been out here for hours and you only four minutes at that moment.
You could feel the tremor in your own thighs, the fire in your lungs, but neither of you stopped. It was as if the music was a siren's song, completely pulling into the orbit and who would be the first to corrupt it.
"Enough, enough," someone had called from the crowd, waving his hands around as someone else had paused the music. "It's a tie. You both loose."
"I like the mentality that we both win better," Hoseok chuckled as he dropped his sweaty palms to his thighs, harsh exhales shaking his shoulders. "Right... hey, I still haven't gotten your name yet."
You, who was also as totaled as him - turned your head to the side to meet his eyes. You didn't miss the way his irises trailed down the curve of your neckbone to swell of breasts in a coax of glistening sweat.
"Y/n," you breathed, feeling your lungs burn with ever part of your lips. Before he could even gather up a response, you stepped past him to grab your soda. You unscrewed the lid, sweat from your palms mixing with the condensation on the outer layer, and brought the bottle to your lips.
"Well, shit... wanna join Neuron?" The man who ordered for you and Hoseok to stop just moments ago stepped into your space. "You're pretty good."
You shrugged. "Sure. This seems fun."
"Perfect." He smirked.
But now, back to the present, you danced along to an addictive song playing on the speakers, the instrumental enough to have your mind wondering and skin itching. You had your eyes locked on a metal pole where you spotted the blur of your reflection where you had woven almost perfectly to your taste.
But you weren't looking at yourself.
You could hear his laughter from miles away without even trying.
Damn Hoseok, you've been in the crew for about a couple months now and still the only time you had the chance to go against him was that important, first day. You guys still held eye contact. You felt his gaze lingering sometimes too... and if the day was going special enough for you- he'd say something through his flushed, glistening lips.
You barely knew him, and yet you felt anger bubbling in your cheeks as you listened to him laugh around easily with another girl from Neuron, Kira. They sat on the curb of the stairs, Hoseok's leg outstretched way past hers as they shared sweet rainbow candy from the same tiny plastic bag.
Kira laughed again, the effortless sound cutting through the street like a knife that currently sat stabbed in your stomach, twisting that knot even tighter. You adjusted the hem of your top, tearing your eyes away from the metal pole's twisted reflection just in time to see him lean over to toss a stray piece of candy into his mouth with that smiley, infuriating movements he possessed.
You turned sharply on your heels once the song ended, making your way toward a darker part of the open space. You told yourself that the two months here was evident for your rush of adrenaline, movements, release of a rhythm - not for the way Hoseok had such a thing to him that drew you hypnotized.
Yet, every time he spared a glance toward you, your pulse had stuttered completely contrasted to your logic.
A shadow walked toward you, completely cutting through the flickering streetlights from above. You quickly recognized that scent- the sweet yet musky cologne. You sighed and turned to look back at him.
His lips lifted just a fraction, just barely enough to beat how he looked around Kira. It twisted something into your heart. You glanced back to where he just sat, only to notice Kira had moved to dance with another group of dancers.
"You've been glaring at that pole other there for five minutes," his low, gravelly voice murmured right beside your ear, sending a sudden shiver straight down your spine.
"I wasn't glaring," you lied, your voice tight as you crossed your arms over your chest, refusing to let him see how easily he could rattle your composure. "Some of us actually came here to dance, Hoseok. Not to sit on the stairs and socialize, eating candy."
"Hm," he hummed along with a slow smirk overshadowing his smile. "Can't a guy enjoy his candy?"
"Nope," you said sarcastically as you reached down to grab ahold of your bag. From the corner of your eye, you noticed he watched every movement come from you with eyes you struggled to decipher. "It's really late, I'm out. Goodnight."
You stepped away before anymore else could happen. Your shoes scrunched down gravel as you traced your earlier steps back to your car. You were exhausted and wanted to linger under your warm showerhead until you were too tired to stand.
Once you reached your car, you fumbled into your purse to pull out the keys. Your footsteps stilled, only to have your ears perk at the noise of a lingering stop of footsteps.
"You're not very smart."
You quickly glanced back at him using your whole body, drawing your eyebrows together as you gathered a scoff at him following you as if it were a fun hobby. "What are you doing?"
"Following you," he said.
"Are you out of your mind? Leave." You breathed out, watching as his lips trailed down the column of your neck .
Before you could mutter again, he collided into your space with only two strides, large hands reaching out to grasp around your arms. You gasped, the sound swallowed by the moonlight as his face inched down dangerously close to your neck.
"Why are you acting like I hadn't seen your eyes, hm?" You felt his breath fan against your damp skin, heightening the hit wave of tangles that coursed through your veins.
His touch was electric. Something that you didn't know you craved for until now, completely drowning in the way calloused palms had felt against yourself. You bit down a noise - moan? Scoff? Groan? Whatever it was, you knew it was best to keep down.
"I think you're thinking too hard." You deadpanned although everything in you was being torn at by a dangerous thread- the feel of him, no doubt.
"Oh yeah?" He smirked, his lips just barely dragging against your skin as he raised his head to look at you in the eyes.
Your heels stumbled back, hitting against the cool metal of your car without any thought. He quickly swallowed your orbit again, tightening the grip of his hands.
"What's with this sudden attraction...?" You panted, hands reaching out to grip onto the damp of his dark, soft waves.
"Sudden?" He let out a small laugh, his breath hitting the curve of your neck so suddenly that you gasped. "It's not sudden, baby. Just watching you eye Kira like you wanted her dead gave me all the confirmation I needed."
His other hand removed the grip from your arms only to go up, long fingers tangling painfully yet perfectly into your hair, forcing your head back to expose the line of your throat. He lips brushed your jawline, a soft friction raced down your whole spine.
"You've been watching me for two months," he whispered, his teeth grazing as he moved desperately higher up your face. "And I've been going out of my mind trying to ignore the way you look at me."
"Hoseok-"
He cut you off by pressing his lips against yours, immediate groans ripping from his frame as he pushed you harder against the car. A noise came from you, coaxing your lips as your fingers gripped tighter in his hair.
"So good," he pulled away only to pant, then returned back to your lips. His tongue dragged your bottom lip, teeth dangerously close to yours as his buds had savored the taste of your flesh.
You suddenly felt it. His weight, dangerously hard pressing into your lower stomach. Your vision splotched white although your eyes were closed, your hips absentmindedly rolling up to grind against his thigh.
He pulled back, lip glistening under the moonlight as those desperate eyes met yours. "Get in the car," he ordered and you were quick to comply, scrambling into the backseat with a mind so fuzzed you didn't even want to think about any consequences.
He followed after you, slamming the door shut, only to crawl his body right over you. His legs trapped you together, heat burning into your revealed skin as he deliberately pressed his length down onto the heave of your stomach.
You ground against him instinctively, chasing the pleasure and feeling the fabric between the two of you doing little to hide of rock-hard he was getting by the millisecond. Both both moaning into eachother, minds so fuzzy with want and need and it felt so perfect and right. His hands trailed down your body, feeling every single inch of your sweated skin.
You pushed his chest away from you for a tad bit to allow your fingers to work around his tight shirt to throw off his head. He let you do so, locking his bulge harder against your clothed cunt, pleasure racking through you, while the pale streetlights casted perfectly onto his sharp body.
"Fuck, Hoseok-" You whispered to him, which caused his whole body to shudder along with the chase of a hard grind right up against you. You immediately were silenced in words, replaced with a loud pitch moan.
"You're so fucking beautiful it hurts," He growled into the air, watching your face scrunch as he held down on your hips, forcing you tighter against his slow grinds. "... It shatters me."
And although clothes disappointingly were present, it did nothing to swallow down the intense throb in the slickness pooling in between your blazing thighs.
It didnt didn't take long before he dipped down to trail hot kisses down your cheek, sucking gently at the sensitive spot behind your ear earning a gasp ripping from your prickly throat that mixed well with a breathless cry. He hummed in satisfaction when your legs gripped around him tighter, while the insides of your thighs were on fire.
"Hmph, s-so good." Your hands couldn't stay on a single place of his body, from his hair and to gripping his shoulders- You just couldn't get enough of it. You realized but then, you could never ever get enough of him in general.
His fingers gently twirled around your hair, tucking away behind your neck to tilt his plump lips closer into the hard throb of your neck. His free hand cracked under your shirt, resting under the swell of the breast as he nipped harshly into your collarbone.
"You're so needy already," his words sent vibrations into your whole electrified frame. Your body jolted underneath him in a shudder of desire- proving his point. "Want me to fuck you perfect?"
You were growing needier by the second, mind swaying while he grind harder against your stomach. You rocked your trembly hips upward to meet his thrusts, the timing so perfect and amazing you were so sure the thin of your panties were completely pooled in your own needy slick.
His fingers curled into the hem of your shirt, pleading dark eyes clawing to you, asking permission- gently- although the touch of his lips sucking and biting on your skin earlier was anywhere but close to gentle.
You nodded quickly, never taking your eyes off from the lean lines on his stomach as he pulled your bra over your head, sending a small kiss between your breasts, the cool air hitting your goosebumbed, revealed skin once he threw your bra behind him. His mouth fell agape, his eyes darkening into something predatory when his gaze found the sight of your bare tits, nipples hardened from the arousal thundering in every part of your veins.
The sight caused a low and guttural growl to crawl from his throat, diving his face into your right breast while his hand fondled with the other. He captured a nipple in his mouth, sucking hard with his tongue swirling over the sensitive bud with wet and sloppy strokes. The sensation was electric, racks of pleasure shooting between your legs as you shot your hands out to grip his hair again.
"J-Jay... Hoseok," You tugged gently on a few strands of his hair while he slowed down, feeling yourself grow more inpatient by the second his hands touched you with teeth grazing the edge enough just to sting.
Whining, arching, and clawing right up into his skin certainly was a sign of that, so painfully obvious.
"Hm?" he growled breathlessly against your swell, dragging his other hand slowly down your churning stomach to hand go down under your skirt, pressing his palm up to your drenched laced panties, the wet and throbbing touch it created caused him to growl- a hot, vulgar sound that shoots right through your thighs and to your head. "Fuck-"
And in one fast and single motion, he rolled your skirt down your knees and hooked your drenched panties away. You were now lying there, fully naked on display while his eyes struggled to stay focused on one place.
He removed his mouth from your tits with a plop, his lips red and swollen as his hooded eyes gazed down on your body strongly. He kissed you again, tongue thrusting into your mouth like he was fucking it. You buckled your hips harder against his erection, both mewling.
He leaned down, about ready to dive his head between your legs- but you stopped him, gripping his hair with fingers that trembled so much from your arousal you were almost feeling vulnerable. No, you were vulnerable.
"Stop, Hoseok," You whimpered. "I just want you to take those stupid pants off and fuck me hard and dumb. Please, I really really need to feel you so bad."
He watched, eyes glistening in amusement as you scrambled up to your knees. Fingers trembling while you worked with his belt, he chuckled- the sound so deep and mewl, only just having your stomach clench and eyelashes flutter up to him in need.
"Hoseok, stop laying back and do something or else i'll be the one to fuck you instead." You spat as your hand came down to cup his hard cock under his sweats. It twitched right under your touch, hot, thick, and completely amused.
And with that in a final motion, he pushed you back away from him so he could shove his clothes down his legs with a growl. You watched as his large cock spring free, hard and throbbing while he hissed. He reached out and unwrapped a foil condom, gliding it over his stride.
He sores your legs open wider with his thigh, his eyes dark with want and need while his fingers traced up your inner thighs where you were aching for him the most.
You barely had any time to register anything until he slowly but smoothly slid inside of you. The stretch big, every vein and inch of his cock sliding through your slick walls, the feeling so intense that you clenched around him, letting out a pleasured scream, both from pain and the utter heaven the jolt brought you. He slid back out of you, feeling the print slide out against your glow.
"Is that what you wanted to feel so bad, huh?" He spat while he fondled his cock into his hand. You shook, watching with heavy breathes as he lined himself up to your hole- gentler this time with a warning.
He slid himself up and down your puffy cunt, leaving you whimpering and reaching out to dig your fingernails into his fair skin. The sensation was overwhelming-a deep, pounding fullness that made you cry out "Y-Yes."
He entered you again after those words left your tight throat, this time much more careful. His print swallowed you whole, stretching you into an oblivion while you cried and strangled. You were being impaled, legs widening as your moans and whines got louder and louder. He hooked your legs higher towards your ear, giving him deeper room where his tip bruised the part that made you relish and scream the most from arousal.
"Fuck, so tight and perfect. Your pussy really was made for me, huh?" His thumb came down to your swollen clit, pressing hard pressure with a small circle. Your hips buckled right into him, just the tip of his cock hitting something deep inside as you did so.
You shook your fuzzy head, biting down on your lip so hard you believed it was close to draw blood. You were feeling every inch of him- the way his cock throbbed inside of you, stretching you so wide it burned pleasurably. "So big, hurts."
It felt like you were being split open, the pressure so big and nothing like you ever felt before. You could feel everything so much clearer now, in your bones and heartbeat as he kissed your sweaty stomach.
"You wanted this, hm? Just breathe." He didn't move his hips forward, but his thumb continued to move slowly against your folds. "Tell me when you're ready."
You nodded, totally at a loss of words although your mouth was hung open.
He started slow, the first thrust having your eyes roll into the back of your head while you felt yourself clench perfectly around him. It punched every ounce of air out of your lungs, his thrusts hitting so deep your whole body shuddered around his cock.
Then the second came, harder this time but still slow. You dug your fingers harder into his flesh, red trails coaxing his sweaty skin, watching as he hissed under you with guilt in you but you were devoid of the ability to unlatch your nails from out of him.
He rolled his hips and everything felt just so real and perfect. It was as if you were dreaming but you knew a dream could never ever feel this good.
His hands moved to your hips, pressing your body harder into his cock as he began to up his pace. Skin slapping against skin, wetness filling the car louder than bombs. And before you knew it, pain was getting replaced by pleasure and joy.
"O-Oh, yes- s-shit," You choked out, breasts heaving as your nails scratched further down the tight muscles that lined his back. "Harder."
Upon hearing your words, he quickened. His pace having his hips slamming against yours in a brutal and bruising force. You felt the coil of pleasure tightening in your core, building toward an explosive release that you knew would shatter you both.
"God, look at you. You have no fucking clue how much I needed to feel your hot pussy clench around me, does so much wonders than my stupid hand." He rasped, upping his pace at a torturous, heavy speed.
"Oh, I n-needed this so bad, Hobi..." You said as his fingers came to cup your chin, forcing your head to tilt up to meet his eyes. You wish you could be locked as this forever, your only view being his face as he moved and fucked so deep into your cunt.
"Fuck, call me that again."
"Hobi," You strangled out as you closed your eyes because eye contact became too much to handle. He groaned, pressing your stomach hard as he upped his pace. He was now at his fastest, tilting your hips into the air while the tip of his cock bruised a specific hidden part deep inside of you.
Hs leaned down, head pressed up against yours while he continued his hard pacing, you cried and moaned while he hissed and groaned - the noises producing from his mouth intertwined with your needs was enough to have your stomach clench into a tight knot.
You could feel him, so harsh into your stomach, so claiming and his. You loved it all. A wet squelch of your juices coating him with every withdrawal and thrust, making his pounding easier and more intoxicating.
He leaned down to press small kisses all over your scrunching face as if he wasn't destroying so deep into you it hurt so bad in a good way. You were squirming, going crazy just for him to swallow it all up.
“You take me so good,” he whispered sweet nothings into your cheeks along with a bundle of curses, your legs falling down to curl around his waist as he continued to thrust so deeply. The sensation had your back arching into him, gasping so loudly it had your pussy clenching around him because that's what it was made for.
The feeling was beyond anything you've ever felt before and you knew at that instant that you could never get enough of it, you would yearn and whine to feel this every night again until your end.
"Hobi," he thrust harder. "- I'm going to come."
He licked down your throat, the action alone having the knot breaking. "Be a good girl and release, gorgeous."
Your orgasm crept up on you and grew ever so tight, so deep and harsh when you felt the sudden coil in your core snap. Your legs shook, making Hoseok hiss loudly as he fucked you through it.
"Fuck, your face," It felt as if stars were shooting in your vision, along with sick hearts. Hoseok chased his own orgasm, watching you with intense eyes as you grew slack against him. "Come all around this cock, hm? Make me know how much you love to be fucked."
Your vision blurred with stars, back arching off of the seats of his car while he gripped your ass. He pushed you harder into him, with enough force that his thrusts had became less controlled and sloppy.
He moaned out your name while finishing up his last uneven and broken pumps right into you. Your body felt so overwhelmed from how good this felt, and you liked it that way.
He backed away from you just then, and with a final thrust deep into his own hand- he finished hard into the condom. Just the sight, him jerking as he groaned and hissed your name was yet having you drenched in your thighs once again.
You were completely spent, eyes closed and chest heaving while he continued to kiss down your revealed body. He was practically on the same position, going feral.
The cars windows were completely fogged, moonlight barely reaching into the darkness. You felt sore, spent, but everything was something you knew you’d replay in your head over and over again every night.
Every restraint you both had carried for two months dissolved completely in the heat of the confined space, turning the quiet car into a breathless space of everything you hadn’t even realized you felt.
