#vampire!jimin

The weather is shit on Wednesday, so you offer to drive the girls again because your car is most suited for the onslaught of water. 

Victoria sits in the passenger seat, scrolling on her phone absentmindedly. Naomi sits behind you, eyes on her notes and brows scrunched as Rachel drones on and on about the “dude in art” who’d taken Victoria’s place as her partner. 

“For the millionth time, his name’s Jason,” Victoria sighs, clicking her phone screen off and rolling her eyes. 

“Doesn’t matter,” Rachel hums, “at least Jason had the stones to be my partner.” 

“You weren’t taking the assignment seriously at all, Rachel.” 

“Professor Modez told us to let our hands work faster than our brains.” 

Victoria snaps her mouth shut, and you work hard not to laugh at the possible comebacks she had in her arsenal.

“So,” you start, “Jason… are you like, into him?” 

Rachel scoffs loudly, shaking her head rapidly, “God no. I just appreciated that he was willing to partner up.” 

Victoria shoots you a look of exhaustion before facing out the passenger window, her expression changing from annoyance to bewilderment. “Jesus, how rich are they?” 

You crane your neck to see who, or what, she’s looking at as you pull into the campus parking lot. 

“Sheesh, that must be a new one,” Rachel whispers. “A Royce? Really?” 

It’s a nice car. Expensive. You can tell just from your quick glance-over. 

You pull into a spot diagonally where the “fucking Rolls-Royce Wraith,” as Rachel so adequately put it, is parked, and watch as Namjoon steps out of the driver’s seat. Yoongi (you think) exits the passenger side as a BMW pulls up next to them, and the rest of the Kims, minus Taehyung, step out of the vehicle as Seokjin shuts off the engine.

“Wow,” Rachel sighs. “Must be nice.” 

You shake your head and shut your engine off, decidedly not gawking at the cars, and Kims, parked across from you. “Let’s just get to class.” 

“Sure thing,” Victoria answers, following after you with Naomi and Rachel close behind.

“A fucking Wraith, Vic,” Rachel whispers, and you huff out a breath.

With Wednesday mirroring your Monday schedule, you start the day with intro. to drama once more.

You run a few minutes late, having been caught up in conversation with Victoria, so by the time the bell rings to signal the beginning of the day, you’re stuck in the closest empty seat to the door- on the side of Jungkook that Seokjin isn’t occupying. Your only other immediate option? The empty seat on the other side of Kim Seokjin. Did no one sit next to these guys ever? Really? 

The differences between the two Kims are there, but it’s the similarities that captivate you during the beginning of class. Their movements are completed before you have time to register they’re happening, precise-  like Jimin’s had been with the charcoal the day prior- and too smooth for how cramped the desks are. There’s a beauty to the way they move, an inhuman beauty. 

“Taehyung will be upset he missed this,” Jungkook says under his breath, clearly directing the comment to Seokjin as Professor Phillips speaks about Shakespeare between the rows of desks. 

“He’s probably watching French Films at home while he… gets better,” Seokjin replies quietly. 

The pause was pointed, but you try your best to seem unfazed, schooling your features into those of someone paying their utmost attention to their professor, yet you can still feel the drop of the side of your mouth at the comment. 

“Today, my star pupils, we’ll be running through some lines from Hamlet and Romeo and Juliet.” The class is a mix of groans and excited chatter, “Listen up, listen up… you’ll be working in groups of three. Run through the lines on the papers in front of you a few times, get comfortable with them, and pick your favorite. We’ll do some quick demonstrations before class is out,” he waits for the groans to die down this time, “and then I’ll clue you all in on your major assignment for this semester.” 

You pick up the papers in front of you, moving to stand, when Jungkook clears his throat from next to you. 

“You could work with us,” he offers. 

Your eyes land on his, wide and confused, “What about your brother?” 

“My brother?” Jungkook responds, equally confused, before realization dawns. “Oh, Taehyung?” 

You nod, catching Seokjin’s head shaking out of the corner of your eyes. “Yeah. Him.”

“He’s sick. We can always partner up with him later,” Jungkook smiles. “You can at least work with us today… only if you want to, of course.” 

The way he says it feels almost like a challenge, and your heart stammers when you lift your eyes to meet Jungkook’s, finding that Seokjin is already staring you down from his side. Like he knows your answer.

“Fine.” 

“Alright then.” Jungkook smirks. 

Seokjin laughs lightly, the sound musical and bright, and taps the ends of his bunched papers against the desk to straighten them. 

It was awkward at first, what with the brief glances you thought you caught Jungkook shooting towards the vacant seat opposite Seokjin (he’d always had his eyes right back on you or Jin the moment you’d thought you finally caught him) and the feeling of Kim Seokjin monitoring you for the entirety of the exercise.

And it’s not that that made you feel small, or lesser, or childish in any sense. You just felt more aware somehow. Of yourself and of the short distance between you and the youngest and oldest Kim. Aware of how the space curls tighter than it may be around the three of you. Aware of their stillness when they’re not running the lines prompted, or adjusting their posture after you’ve already done so twice.

You’re aware that you sit straighter. That your mind liquifies the few odd times that Jungkook decides to offer you a knowing smile and flip his stupid fucking lip ring he loves so much with his tongue when he catches you looking. And Seokjin-- yeah, he watches you. Says his lines with such carefree perfection that you find yourself hoping to see him fuck up, if only once.

An hour (and some odd Hamlet scenes) later, you start at the slight tap to your shoe, stifling your yip of surprise as you meet Jungkook’s crooked smirk. “Your turn,” he whispers. 

You offer a weak smile in apology, nodding your head as you shift into your Ophelia voice, 

“Good my lord, 

How does your Honor for this many a day?” 

Jungkook’s answering line is rehearsed with precision and the sort of emotion some professional actors can only dream of one day displaying. 

“Doesn’t excelling at everything get boring?” you ask him after settling back in your seats. Thankfully, your group had not been among the three chosen to demonstrate before the class.

“Jealous?” He asks, eyebrow raised.

“Of acting? No. Never been my forte. The drawing, maybe,” you nod, referencing the shared art class from the previous day. “But not acting… I just- I can’t imagine it’s very thrilling to not have goals to work to because you’re already so perfect at everything.” You explain. 

Jungkook offers a small shrug, “Maybe sometimes. I’ve also had time to practice.” 

“Right,” you laugh dryly. “Because I’m supposed to believe you’re not just gifted?” 

His eyebrow raises again, and he motions for you to continue. 

“You don’t act like you’ve had to work for it. The talent. It’s like you just have it. Naturally, or whatever.” 

Jungkook shakes his head, a small smile tugging at the corner of his mouth, “or whatever,” he whispers to himself. 

“So you’re not an artist?” Seokjin asks from Jungkook’s opposite side. 

You sputter a laugh, “uh, no. Not exactly.” You jam a thumb Jungkook’s way, “he can attest to that.” 

“It wasn’t awful,” he tries to reason.

“Don’t gas me up. It was atrocious,” you shake your head, meeting Seokjin’s eyes, “I drew Jimin completely wrong. He looked like he was going through anaphylaxis on my paper.”

“Some might call that an improvement where Jimin’s concerned,” Seokjin smiles.

“Yeah?” 

Jungkook shifts into your space slowly, the smell of him- cherries and frosted pine- hits you like a train. “Jin and Jimin bicker a lot,” he explains.

“We do not,” Jin snaps quickly and quietly, folding his papers neatly into his notebook as Professor Phillips winds down the class. The major assessment, you learn, is getting in groups of four and performing an entire act from a play of your choosing. 

“They’re bickering currently. He’s touchy on it, clearly,” Jungkook smirks, leaning over to press a reassuring hand against Jin’s shoulder. “It’s okay, Jin. Namjoon will mediate later, like always, and I’m sure Jimin will give your earbuds back to you.” 

Jin narrows his eyes at Jungkook, but whispers in a tone that borders on concerned, “I don’t even know why he takes them. It’s gross. He has his own.”

“Simple. Yours are more expensive,” Jungkook smirks, turning to Professor Phillips before he nears your table. 

Noting the way that Jungkook and Jin busy themselves with checking their phones and chatting quietly amongst each other, you turn to your professor. 

“We didn’t have time to catch up yesterday after class,” Professor Phillips smiles, nodding his head in acknowledgment at Jungkook when he looks between the two of you. “On how the class went,” Phillips explains at your confused stare.

“Oh,” your brows furrow, “I didn’t know I was supposed to get with you on that.” 

“You weren’t,” he replies swiftly, “Not supposed to, at least. I just wanted to check in on you, since I know your dad.”

You tense a little at that bit of information being tossed out without warning. It’s not that it’s incriminating for your professor to know your father, because it’s not, but maybe there’s a kernel of you that didn’t want your classmates knowing you had, albeit loose, ties to a member of staff. Jungkook clears his throat softly to the side of you, and you’re unsure of whether it was an attempt to end the conversation or to just let you know he was still there. Regardless, Phillips pays him no mind, instead keeping his attention on you. 

Thankfully, no other students are concerned about your encounter. Most had filed out, and the few stragglers were either striking up conversations with each other to avoid heading to their next class or playing on their phones like Jin and Jungkook appeared to still be doing. 

“Yesterday went fine,” you tell Professor Phillips tightly, plastering a nice smile on your face. “Today went fine, too.” 

“And this class?” 

“It’s been good so far,” you tell him, trying to ignore the mental preening your words seem to do to his ego. Men.

“Glad to hear it,” he smiles, “if you need anything at all, you can always stop by and ask. I’d love to help in whatever ways I can.” 

Gross.

“Thanks, Professor Phillips,” you say, emphasizing the title. He offers you another smile before heading back towards his desk. 

Your nails bite into your palms as you stand up, bookbag slung over your shoulder. 

“Thanks for letting me partner with you guys today,” you tell the two Kims before stalking out of the room. You choose to ignore the look Jin shot your way, the way he seemed almost apologetic.

10:05 do u think i’ll get suspended or kicked out if i drink on campus

The near-instant bubbles that pop up on the text thread between you and Victoria reveal that she’d gotten your message right away. Your shoulders relax a bit as you stalk towards the breezeways that will lead you to your astronomy class. 

10:06 serious question? prob kicked out. idk that they do the whole fool me once fool me twice fool me three times bullshit here. too small for ppl to be acting like delinquents 

You react to her text with a crying emoji before opening the door to your next class. 

It’s almost full due to your late departure from drama. You sigh as you settle into a chair close to the exit, pulling out your notebook and trying to ignore the look of concern on Namjoon’s face from across the room as you recalibrate. He frowns, small but there, before pulling out his phone. 

Whatever. 

Professor Jones doesn’t encroach on your personal space. Doesn’t ask you how your previous day went, or hint that she knows any of your family members (because she doesn’t) in the presence of your classmates. She just does her job. Like an instructor should, a small part of you echoes.

You find that you genuinely enjoy the time spent in her classroom. And even though Namjoon was nice enough the day prior, you also find yourself appreciating the space between the two of you. You liked learning, and you could admit that doing so had been proven perhaps a tad difficult when the Kims were surrounding you. 

Professor Jones ends the lecture with questions you clearly cannot answer here and now. Spiral galaxies, elliptical galaxies, and irregular galaxies all seem the same to you. The sun will eventually die. Andromeda will merge with the Milky Way. The cosmos is a wondrous, vast thing. And you were just a blip in its existence. Small. Inconsequential. Not an insult, just fact. 

You peer down at your phone as people start filtering out of the room, replying to the group text between you and the three others to reassure them that yes, you would still be driving everyone home. 

“You all good?” 

You don’t have to look up to know it’s Namjoon asking you the question. Partially because his voice stands out, but also partially due to the simple fact that you’d spoken with none of the other students in the class. 

“Don’t you have a squabble to be refereeing?” 

“What?” 

The tone of his voice has you looking up at him. He’d put on a pair of glasses at some point during the lecture, and you’re stunned by them because they look good. Namjoon stiffens slightly, almost as if he’d caught on to your wandering thoughts, so you shove them away with fervor before meeting his eyes again. 

“Jimin stole Jin’s earbuds or something.” 

“Again?” 

You laugh, “supposedly so.” 

“He has his own,” Namjoon says with a shake of his head. 

“They’re not expensive enough,” you offer Jungkook’s earlier reasoning, and Namjoon suppresses a wide smile with a small one. You’d be lying if you claimed not to be disappointed in his doing so. 

“Thanks for the heads up,” he says softly. “But seriously, you good?” 

“I’m good,” you nod, adding after a moment, “it’s just been a long morning.” 

Namjoon accepts your answer with a nod of his own, but doesn’t press the matter.

“My friends were fawning over your car this morning,” you tell him when he lingers near your desk. He steps gracefully out of your way as you stand up and gather your things. 

“I’ve had it for a bit,” Namjoon says with what sounds like embarrassment. “I only drove it this morning because the others wouldn’t stop arguing about who was driving.” 

“Ah,” you tip your head. “Egos.” 

“Something like that,” he chuckles. The sound is low, and bordering on pretty. “Jungkook just got his car, so he jumps at the opportunity whenever it’s offered. I think the others end up wanting to drive theirs just to annoy him… or to avoid his speeding.” 

“Even Taehyung?” 

Namjoon tenses at the mention of Taehyung, but recovers so quickly you wonder if you’d seen it. “Even Tae.” He’s silent for a moment before continuing, “I heard about your run-in with him yesterday. I’m sorry about that.” 

“No need,” you wave off his apology. 

“Taehyung isn’t usually so…” he trails off. 

“Dickish?” You offer the word from Victoria’s dictionary.

He laughs fully as you guys exit the classroom, “Sure, dickish. But really, he’s a good guy. He’s just going through some stuff at the moment.” 

“Mmm,” you nod. “I didn’t think it was something I did, for what it’s worth,” a lie, but there was truth behind it. You hadn’t done anything wrong. You just ran into the guy accidentally. From the display at the assembly and drama afterwards, you’d assumed Taehyung’s distaste for you ran deeper than your stumble. 

“Good. It wasn’t.”

“Jin said Taehyung’s getting better?”

“Yeah, he’s got the stomach flu.” 

“That sucks. I didn’t know that was getting passed around right now. I hope I don’t get it.” You shiver, remembering the short physical contact you shared with Taehyung.

“Vaccinated?”

“Duh.” 

“That helps,” Namjoon smirks.

“Doesn’t mean I want to spend the next two days on the bathroom floor,” you grimace.

“That does sound pretty miserable.” He replies as you near the parking lot. “Your roommates will take care of you if you get sick, right?” 

“At least two of them.” 

“The other?” 

“Not so much,” you sigh.

You try to avoid the three sets of eyes that burn holes into your head from your car as you descend the steps to the lot… and the additional five sets that come from the two luxury cars across the way. From the way Namjoon shifts his balance (gracefully, mind you) from one foot to the other, you can tell he’s doing the same. 

“Well, if you get sick, I’m sorry.” Namjoon offers kindly, “But I have a feeling you won’t.” 

“I admire the optimism,” you exhale. “Thanks for checking on me,” you add awkwardly, “I don’t really know people here.” 

“It’s no problem, really.” He reassures you. “See you in class?” 

“Yeah,” you nod, “see you.” 

“Kim fucking Namjoon, Victoria!” 

“I heard you the first ten times, Rachel.” Victoria groans. 

“I’m right here,” you whisper, signaling to turn out of the parking lot. “Like, literally right here. Am I invisible? A ghost?” 

Naomi shakes her head from the passenger seat, offering you a weak smile and a mouthed sorry.

“I just don’t get it.” Rachel sighs. 

“Anyways,” Victoria drawls, eyes locking onto yours in the rearview as she ends the conversation with Rachel. “I need to go to the bookstore before it closes tonight. You wanna go?” 

“Absolutely,” you nod. 

“Oooh, can I tag along? I’ve been meaning to get the new ACOTAR book.” Naomi perks up. 

“Sure thing, we can take my car now that the weather is behaving.” Victoria smiles. 

“What about me?” Rachel asks. 

“You want to go to the bookstore?” Victoria gapes.

“Well, yeah? I do read, you know.”

“Yeah?” 

“Listen, I get that I’m a bitch, but I can enjoy reading, too. The two things aren’t mutually exclusive. A bitch can read.” 

Despite your feelings regarding Rachel, you laugh. And the others do, too. 

“The new ACOTAR is good, by the way,” Rachel tells Naomi before popping her earbuds in and leaning back in her seat. 

“Today’s weird.” Naomi’s words settle into the space of the car, and you can only offer her a nod before you turn on the radio and axe any possibility of the girls furthering in their questioning on Namjoon Kim.

The bookstore is quiet and warm, the shelves line the walls to the ceiling, and are stocked full of books, both new and used. 

Your eye catches on a few, and you do a quick check of your bank account before allowing yourself to grab three of the five that caught your fancy, one of which you’ve read before but have yet to own. Naomi and Rachel are both standing near the Sarah J Maas corner, eyeing Throne of Glass novels with intense interest, whilst you and Victoria stand near the coffee and hot chocolate maker that’s neighboring the register counter. 

“It’s free, right?” You ask as Vic pours some of the hot chocolate mix into her hot water. 

“Yep,” she nods. “It’s a huge selling point here.” 

You chew on your bottom lip before pouring your own cup. Stirring the mix in with one of the little plastic stirrers, you turn to your friend, almost dropping your cup when you notice Jimin standing near the historical section of the shop with Jin. Neither of them appears wounded, so you assume Namjoon had done his job of mediator well enough.

Jimin catches your eye just before you turn away and smiles at you, waving his acknowledgment and pointing you out to Jin. Jin, bless him, nods once before refocusing on the books in front of him.

“They’re everywhere lately,” Vic whispers, sipping at her flimsy cup. “It’s like you summon them.” 

“That’d be a fucking pointless power,” you shake your head, and Vic laughs. “They’re probably just looking for a book for a class or something.” 

“Mhm,” she nods, but seems unconvinced. “Any of them catch your fancy yet?” 

“Are you joking?” You scoff at her, but even to you the sound seems flat and weightless. 

“It’s just a question,” she smirks, and you catch Jimin looking your way again. 

“I’m not justifying it with an answer.” 

“Listen, all I’m saying is… I haven’t seen a single Kim look at anyone on campus or back in high school the way they look at you.” 

“We’ve been in class for a few days, dude.” 

“I’m not claiming it makes sense,” Vic shrugs. “Just want to be transparent with you. I mean, I guess I have only seen you around Jungkook and Jimin. But even Namjoon today? He looked like he was interested with the way he escorted you to your car.” 

“Okay, technically, he only walked with me to the lot, and it’s not like that. With any of them.” 

“You sure?” 

“One hundred percent.” 

“So… is that why Jimin’s walking over to us now?” She asks with a quirked brow and a sneaky smirk.

You snap your mouth shut and pause stirring your hot chocolate to smile at Jimin as he walks up. He’s completely relaxed, hands in his jacket pockets, none the wiser to your conversation with Victoria moments prior, but there’s an aura to him that seems almost cocky when he smiles back at you… like he’s caught you in a trap. Up close, he smells faintly clean, something soft and floral that cuts through the aroma of hot chocolate wafting up from your cup. 

“Hey,” he says, voice light, like he’s not interrupting anything at all. His eyes flick briefly to Vic before they settle again on you. “Sorry--do you mind if I ask you something?” 

Victoria’s elbow nudges into your side, subtle but intentional. The witch. 

“Depends,” you reply, brow lifted. “Is it weird?” 

Jimin’s lips curve, just slightly, and his eyes crinkle into those half moons that have you wanting to swoon. “I don’t think so.” 

“That’s what people who ask weird stuff usually say,” you mutter, but there’s no bite to your words.

“I’m looking for something new to read,” he continues, like you hadn’t said anything at all. “You seemed… decisive earlier.” His gaze drops to the books tucked against your side before running the length of your torso and neck back to your face. “Figured I’d ask.” 

There’s something about the way he says it, earlier, that makes your stomach twist faintly.

Victoria hums beside you, far too pleased with herself. You side-eye her, hoping it stings, but not really. 

“Well,” you start, shifting your weight, “depends on what you’re into. Fantasy? Romance? Something that’ll emotionally devastate you for no reason?” 

“Dealer’s choice,” jimin says easily. “What would you recommend?” 

You narrow your eyes at him slightly, like you’re trying to figure out if this is a trick question. “That sounds like a setup.” 

“It’s not,” he assures you, tone softening just a fraction. “I just want your opinion.” 

Your grip tightens slightly around the cup in your hand. There’s the feeling again, like he’s not just asking about the damn books in the shop. 

Victoria clears her throat lightly. “She’s got good taste,” she offers, casual, like she didn’t enjoy every second of this torture. “Even if she won’t admit it.” 

You shoot her another withering glare, and she just smiles in response.

“Do you?” Jimin asks, attention never leaving you. 

“I mean,” you shrug, trying to play it off and end this conversation before it really builds, “I don’t pick terrible ones. Not particularly fantastic ones, either.” 

“That’s not what I asked,” he smirks. 

There’s a beat. A small one. But it stretches somehow. 

You swallow, then glance down at the books between your arm and side, using them as an anchor. “This one’s good,” you say, setting your cup on the counter to hold your previous read up slightly. “It’s more character-driven, kinda slow at first, but it picks up. And this--” you tilt another towards him, “this one’s supposed to be pure chaos. In a good way,” you amend. “I haven’t actually read it yet.” 

Jimin leans in to look, closer than necessary, his shoulder almost brushing yours. “Chaos,” he repeats, thoughtful. “I can work with that.” 

Your breath catches, not noticeably, you hope, but enough that you shift back half a step without meaning to.

He notices. Of course he does.

But he doesn’t comment. 

Instead, he straightens, eyes flicking once more over your face before he smiles again, softer this time. “Thanks. I’ll trust your judgment.”

“Bold move,” you mutter. 

Victoria snorts quietly into her cup. 

Jimin’s gaze lingers a second longer than it should. “Not really,” he says. “You don’t seem like someone who recommends things lightly.” 

The feeling is there again, like this conversation is about more than simply just books.

“Guess you’ll find out,” you reply, forcing a small smile. 

“I think I will,” he nods, a slight dip of his head, and steps back, the space between you easing in a way that feels almost immediate. Like you hadn’t realized how close he was until he wasn’t anymore. 

“I’ll let you get back to it,” he adds, glancing back at Victoria briefly. “Nice seeing you again.” 

Victoria perks up just enough to smile back. “You too.” 

Jimin turns, heading back toward the shelves where Jin still stands, flipping a page he doesn’t seem to be reading. And just before Jimin fully disappears down the aisle he’d been standing close to originally with Jin, he glances back. Not at Victoria. At you. 

Victoria exhales next to you, low and impressed. “Yeah,” she murmurs. “That was totally about books.” 

You collect your hot chocolate from the counter and stare down at it in your hands, watching the surface ripple slightly. 

“Shut up.” 

But your voice lacks conviction. Victoria says something back, something quick, teasing, but it blurs before it fully lands. The words slide past you like water over glass, distorted and distant. 

Your fingers tighten again over the paper cup in your hand. The bookstore feels too warm, suddenly. Or maybe you’re just aware of it now. The heat from the cup bleeding into your palm, the faint hum of the overhead lights, the soft shuffle of pages turning somewhere deeper in the aisles. It all presses in at once, like your senses have decided to wake up all at the same time. 

Your heart stutters. Not fast, not slow… just off, a bit. 

You swallow, but your throat feels dry, which doesn’t make sense because you just took a sip. The taste of chocolate lingers, too sweet now, sitting heavy on your tongue. And for a second, just one second, you can still feel it. The space where Jimin had been standing. So close. So aware. 

You blink, once, twice, forcing your gaze to refocus on the swirling liquid in the cup.

“Hey,” Victoria’s voice cuts in clearer this time, closer. 

You inhale, slow and deliberate, like you’re reminding your body how to do it properly. The noise of the bookstore filters back in, piece by piece, Naomi’s voice somewhere nearby, Rachel laughing at something, the soft beep of the register. Normal.

“Earth to YN,” Vic murmurs, bumping her shoulder lightly against yours. “You good?” 

“Peachy,” you say with a shake of your head, taking another careful sip of your hot chocolate like it might ground you back into your body. It doesn’t. At least not fully.

“Mm,” she hums, unconvinced. 

Before she can say anything else, Naomi and Rachel reappear from around the corner of the aisle, both of them clutching books to their chests like they’d just robbed the place blind. 

“Got ‘em,” Naomi beams, holding up her copy. “They had, like, three different editions, and I almost lost my mind trying to pick one.” 

“Same,” Rachel adds, though her attention is already drifting, eyes narrowing slightly as they flick between you and Victoria. “What’d we miss?” 

“Nothing,” you answer immediately.

“Everything,” Vic says at the same exact time.

Rachel’s head tilts, interest piqued instantly. “Oh, now I know that’s a lie,” she smiles at you, sickly sweet. 

Naomi’s gaze lingers on you a second longer than necessary, something softer there, curious but not pushy. “Was that Jimin?” She asks gently. 

You sigh, tossing your hot chocolate into the trash bin next to the aisle. “Can we not do this here?” 

Victoria snorts again into her cup. 

“I’m just asking,” Naomi says, though she’s clearly already piecing it together. “He came over, right?” 

Rachel perks up like she’s just been handed a live wire. “Wait-- he came over? To you?” 

“It was nothing,” you insist, starting towards the register before they can circle you any further. “He asked for a book recommendation. That’s it.” 

“That’s it,” Victoria echoes under her breath, far too amused. 

Rachel hurries to keep up with you, nearly bumping into your shoulder. “And you just… gave one to him? Like a normal person?” 

“What was I supposed to do, Rachel? Gatekeep literature?” you shoot back, exasperation finally bleeding through your tone. 

“I don’t know,” she shrugs, unfazed. “Be interesting about it.” 

Naomi laughs softly behind you, stepping up beside the two of you as the line for the register comes into view. “Pretty sure being approached in a bookstore is already interesting enough.” 

“Thank you,” you mutter, shooting her a grateful look. 

Rachel crosses her arms, still eyeing you like you’re withholding classified information. “Did he flirt with you?” 

“No.” 

Victoria makes a small noise. 

You cut her a look. 

“What?” she shrugs innocently. “I’m just breathing.” 

“You’re not subtle,” you hiss. 

“Wasn’t trying to be.”

The line moves quicker than expected, and before Rachel can dig her claws in any deeper, you’re setting your books down on the counter, Vic getting in line behind you. The cashier smiles politely as she scans them, Naomi and Rachel stepping up beside you to do the same, both still buzzing over their ACOTAR finds. You swipe your friends’ books from their grasp with ease, motioning for the cashier to scan them as well.

“That’ll be--” the cashier starts, and you tap your card against the reader before she can finish.

Naomi gasps softly. “You didn’t have to do that.” 

“I wanted to,” you shrug. “Consider it a ‘thanks for not interrogating me like a suspect’ bonus.” 

Rachel scoffs. “I haven’t even started yet.” 

“I know,” you sigh. “Yours was a bribe.” 

Victoria laughs outright at that, grabbing her book and tucking it against her side. “Smart. Preemptive damage control.” 

You collect your books, tucking them securely under your arm as you push the door open with a shoulder. The bell above jingles softly, the warm air of the shop giving way to the cool evening outside.

Naomi and Rachel trail behind you, already slipping back into conversation about plotlines and characters, their voices easy and familiar. Victoria nudges your arm again as you step off the curb.

“You’re not beating the allegations, by the way,” she whispers. 

“I’m not entertaining them,” you shoot back.

“Too late for that.” 

You roll your eyes, tightening your grip on your books as you head toward the car. For a moment, everything feels normal again, just a late evening, a bookstore run, your friends’ voices filling the space around you. But as you reach for the car door, something pulls at your attention. A feeling more than anything. 

You glance back. 

Through the bookstore window, between the tall shelves and soft lighting, you catch a glimpse of him. 

Jimin. 

Standing exactly where he'd left you. Already looking at you.

“YN?” Naomi calls, hand halfway to the rear passenger door. 

“Yeah,” you answer quickly, tearing your gaze from the bookstore window and sliding into the passenger seat. “Coming.” 

The door shuts, sealing you inside the quiet hum of the car as Victoria starts the engine. 

Warm air, familiar voices. Normal. 

Your eyes fix straight ahead as Victoria peels out of the parking lot. And pointedly do not look back again.

The apartment greets you with warmth the second you step inside. 

It’s immediate, like crossing some invisible threshold. The soft hum of the heater, the faint scent of something Victoria must have sprayed earlier, the low glow of the lamp in the living room casting everything in a golden haze. It feels smaller than it did this morning. Safer.

“Shoes,” Naomi reminds gently, toeing hers off by the door.

“Right,” you nod, kicking yours off and nudging them into place with your heel. 

Rachel disappears into the kitchen almost immediately, already rummaging through cabinets. Victoria follows, calling out something about snacks, and Naomi lingers just long enough to brush your arm lightly as she passes. 

“You okay?” she asks, soft enough that it doesn’t carry over to eager ears. 

You nod. “Just tired.” 

She studies you for a half second longer, then smiles. “We’ll keep it lowkey tonight.” 

“Please.”

The kitchen quickly fills with a clink of glasses and the rustle of packaging. By the time you drop your bag in your room and come back out, Rachel is already pouring wine into mismatched cups, her earlier edge softened. 

“Study night,” she announces, like she’s hosting something official. “With benefits.” 

“Benefits being?” Vic asks, grabbing a cup and raising a pointed brow. 

“Alcohol,” Rachel smirks, sliding a cup your way from across the counter. 

“Ah,” you hum, taking it. “Academic excellence.” 

Naomi laughs, settling onto the couch with her books spread neatly in front of her. “If we fail, we can at least say we tried.” 

“Speak for yourselves,” Rachel says, flopping onto the armchair. “I plan on passing and thriving.” 

“You plan on gossiping,” Victoria corrects, dropping beside Naomi and cracking open her notebook. 

“Multitasking,” Rachel shoots back.

You settle onto the floor with your back against the couch, your books fanned out in front of you, wine balanced carefully in your hand. The quiet that follows isn’t uncomfortable. It’s easy. Pages flipping, pens scratching, the occasional sigh or muttered complaint filling the space between sips. 

For a while, it almost feels like nothing happened. Like the day didn’t stretch and twist in all the ways it had. 

Naomi leans over at one point, pointing at something in your notes. “You missed this part,” she murmurs. 

“Did I?” you frown, scooting closer. 

“Yeah-- here,” she taps the page you’d been dead-eyeing in your textbook. “It connects to the next section you started on.” 

“God, I’m blind,” you mutter, scribbling it down. “Thanks.” 

“You’re distracted,” Vic says lightly, not even looking up from her own work. 

“I’m not distracted,” you argue automatically.

Rachel snorts. You ignore her. Another stretch of quiet passes. Comfortable until it isn’t.

“So,” Rachel starts, far too casually.

You don’t look up. “No.” 

“I didn’t even say anything yet.” 

“You were going to,” you reply, flipping a page a little harder than necessary.

“I was just going to ask a question.” 

“No.” 

Victoria huffs out a laugh, shaking her head. 

Naomi nudges Rachel lightly with her foot. “Maybe give it a rest?” 

“I’m just curious,” Rachel insists, sitting forward. “You cannot expect me not to be when--” 

“When what?” you snap, the words sharper than you meant for them to be. 

The room stills. 

Rachel blinks at you, clearly caught off guard. 

You exhale through your nose, dragging a hand through your hair. “It’s nothing, Rachel. They’re just people. I had a couple of conversations today. That’s it.” 

“That’s not how it looks,” she says, quieter now, but still pushing. “They don’t talk to anyone. Ever. And suddenly--” 

“And suddenly what?” you cut in, heat rising in your chest before you can stop it. “They talk to me and it’s some big conspiracy? Maybe they’re just being nice. Maybe I’m just there.” 

“That’s not what I--” 

“I don’t know them,” you continue, the words coming faster now. “I don’t care if they’re hot or rich or whatever else you’re fixating on. It’s not a thing. There is no ‘thing.’ Can we please just drop it?” 

Silence that weighs heavily this time consumes the small space in the living room. 

Rachel’s mouth presses into a thin line. For a second, it looks like she might argue, push harder, dig deeper. She doesn’t.

“Fine,” she says instead, standing abruptly and grabbing her cup along with her notebook. “Didn’t realize it was that serious.” 

Guilt flickers through you, quick and unwelcome. 

“Rachel--” 

“I’m going to bed,” she cuts you off, not unkindly, but not warmly either. “I’ve got an early morning.” 

She disappears down the hall, her door clicking shut a moment later. The quiet that follows is different. Not comfortable. You stare down your notes, the words blurring slightly as your eyes sting. 

“Hey,” Naomi says gently. 

You swallow. “I didn’t mean to…” you trail off. 

“She’ll be fine,” Victoria offers, softer than her usual tone. “You didn’t say anything wrong.” 

“I kind of did,” you mutter. 

“You kind of snapped,” Naomi corrects you. “There’s a difference.” 

You huff out a breath, setting your pen down. “I just… don’t get why it matters so much.” 

Victoria shrugs. “Because it’s weird. And people latch onto weird.” 

Naomi tilts her head. “But that doesn’t mean you have to.” 

You nod, even if the knot in your chest doesn’t fully loosen. 

Victoria taps your shoulder. “You’re still coming Friday, right?” 

“The party?” you groan.

“Yes, the party,” she grins. “Small house, college guys, questionable music choices. It’ll be fun.” 

Naomi nods eagerly. “We’ll stick together the whole time. Promise.” 

You hesitate for a second. Then sigh. 

“Yeah, I’ll go.” 

“Good,” Vic beams.

You glance between them, then add, “The Kims won’t be there, right?” 

Vic laughs immediately. “God, no.” 

Naomi shakes her head. “They don’t go to parties. Like, ever.” 

“Seriously,” Vic adds. “I’ve never seen them at one. Not once.” 

Something in your chest settles at that. 

“Okay,” you murmur, “good.” 

“Good?” Vic echoes, amused. 

“Shut up,” you groan, but there’s no heat behind it this time.

Naomi smiles, gathering her things. “We should probably call it soon anyway. Early morning tomorrow for all of us.” 

“Ugh,” Vic grumbles, finishing off her wine.

You clean up slowly, stacking your books, rinsing out your cup, moving through the motions on autopilot. The apartment quiets again as lights flick off one by one.

By the time you make it to your room, the world feels smaller again.

You change, plug your phone in, and slide beneath the covers after shelving your new books, the familiar weight of your blankets ground you. 

The events of the day flicker behind your eyes… glances, voices, the feeling of being watched, of being known just a little too quickly. 

You turn onto your side, pulling the blanket higher.

And eventually, with the soft hum of the apartment around you, sleep comes.

“You change universities after moving towns. Your new university is an old, ancient building with secret tunnels and whispered ghost stories. There are two fraternities, which for some reason always seem to be in a quarrel. Alpha consisting of Kim Taehyung, Kim Namjoon, Park Jimin and Min Yoongi. Handsome, porcelain skinned men, who act as if they are out of another century and for some reason everyone on campus seems to be scared of. And Sanguis consisting of Jeon Jungkook, Kim Seokjin and Jung Hoseok. Men with skin just as pale and their faces just as beautiful, who always wear sunglasses when it is light outside and who never seem to open their curtains. And for some peculiar reason you always find yourself in the middle of them….”

Pairing: OT7 x f.Reader with main Taehyung x f.Reader & Yoongi x f.Reader

Genre: Mystery, Fantasy, Romance, Smut, University!AU, Vampire!AU

《 To Book One 》

“When your endless game of hide and seek with Namjoon sends your little group all over Europe, you have to fight more than just vengeful witches and bloodthirsty demons. Different morals, beliefs and mindsets bring just as much struggle to your bond as your enemies. And soon you have to accept that the world you decided to live in is darker than you initially prepared for.”

Pairing: Yoongi x f.Reader, Taehyung x f.Reader & Jungkook x f.Reader + more as the story progresses

Genre: Fantasy, Romance, Smut, Vampire!AU, Magic!AU

《 To Book Two 》

“You and your lovers visit The Plains, a magical realm created for the souls of witches and warlocks and home of your dear grandmother. She welcomes you with raspberry pie and tea. You come with many stories to tell and eager hands to help on her cottage. Golden sunlight, blue moonshine and green forests await you alongside early morning snuggles and late night kisses with your lovers.”

Pairing: Yoongi x f.Reader, Jungkook x f.Reader, Taehyung x f.Reader, Yoongi x Jungkook, Taehyung x Jungkook, platonic Yoongi x Taehyung

Genre: Magic!AU, Vampire!AU, Polyamory!AU, Slice of Life, Fluff, Romance, Smut, this is a spin-off meant to be read after the Duology

《 To the Spin-Off 》

#01 - What You Deserve [YG x JK]

#02 - The Piano Teacher [YG x OC]

#03 - Only For You ([YG x OC]

#04 - Mellifluous [TH x OC]

#05 - Safe Hands [YG x OC]

#06 - Rache [TH x JK]

#07 - Captured [YG x OC]

#08 - Illecebra [TH x OC] ​

#09 - How I Love You [YG x OC]

#10 - Stormy Nights [YG x OC]

#11 - Of Simpler Times [TH x JM]

#12 - Best Seat [YG x OC]

#13 - Deep [JK]

#14 - Painted Blue [TH x OC]

#15 - Drunk on You [YG x OC]

#16 - I Want Your Love Forever [YG x OC]

#17 - Between Friends [YG x HS]

#18 - Bed Head [JK x OC]

#19 - Don’t Tease Please [JK x OC]

#20 - Fade into You [YG x OC]

#21 - Rope Bunny [YG x OC]

#22 - Lavender Warmth [YG x OC]

#23 - The Scholar, The Princess and the Master [YG x OC x JK]

#24 - Picnics [YG x OC x JK]

#25 - Where Love Is [YG x OC]

#26 - Wake Up Call [YG x OC]

#27 - Devotion [TH x OC]

#28 - Bewitched [YG x OC]

#29 - wanna see myself inside you [JK x OC]

#30 - Princess Treatment [YG x OC]

#31 - Guilty Tears [TH x OC]

#32 - Moonlight & Campsites [YG x OC]

#33 - ILY [YG x OC]

#34 - Morning Hours [JK x OC]

#35 - Silly Fights [YG x OC]

#36 - Carefree [YG & TH]

#37 - Cozy Times [YG x OC]

#38 - Drive You Fucking Crazy [TH x OC]

#39 - FWB [HS x OC]

#40 - A Good Life [YG x OC]

#41 - Impatient [JK x TH]

#42 - Love Wins All [TH x OC]

#43 - Cozy [YG x OC]

#44 - Listen In [HS x JK x TH]

#45 - moonlight [TH x OC]

#46 - Stardust [ TH x JK]

#47 - Protective [TH x JK]

#48 - Babybun [YG x OC x JK]

#49 - Just Relax [YG x HS]

#50 - Tenderness [JM & OC]

#51 - Creamer [YG x TH]

#52 - Shut You Up [JK x OC]

#53 - Double is Best [YG x OC x HS]

#54 - Fuck Yourself [JK x OC] 

#55 - Used [TH x OC]

#56 - Grateful [YG x OC x JK]

#57 - Good Doll [TH x JK]

#58 - Prove It [YG x OC]

#59 - Cozy Nights [YG x OC x JK]

#60 - Rainy Mornings [YG x OC]

#61 - Birthday Boy [HS x OC]

#62 - Red Shirt [JK x OC]

#63 - It’s gonna be okay [YG x OC]

#64 - Make It Better [TH x OC]

#65 - Breakfast Served [YG x OC x JK]

#66 - Killin’ It Boy [HS x OC]

#67 - Boyfriends? [YG x JK]

#68 - Reconnect [YG & NJ]

#69 - Spa Time [YG x OC x HS]

#70 - Mornings Together [YG x OC x JK]

#71 - Clean Seat [OT7 x OC alternative!AU]

#72 - Bi Queen [OT7 x OC]

#73 - Special Day [YG x OC]

As he stood up, his mind played tricks on him, dragging his vision back to the humans Jimin was so eagerly indulging upon. The blood that trickled down their neck line made Jungkook swallow with need and want. Shutting his eyes, he pushed down the natural urge that was within him; fighting against his very own nature to rip their necks to shreds. It’s not that he didn’t drink blood, it was more of how he attained it. His game was much different compared to that of Jimin’s seduction game. He craved that which he couldn’t have, his was a game of predator and prey. He desired that which was impossible to have, that which was forbidden; a soul that resisted his charms. He wanted the chase, the crying, the fear. It made the blood taste that much more delicious.

It had been long since he found a prey worth his while, one that was different from his recent feeds who were all too weak and easy to catch. And if he was being honest with himself, he was growing bored with the humans he had gorged upon. Each one was always so unaware, so naive. Deciding he’d had enough of being in the same room with unintelligent beings, he walks out and onto the balcony. Transforming into a flying creature of the night, he flies off the ledge of his castle in search of something more worth his while.

____

It had been another night of poor tips and disrespectful customers. The worst part was that you were in no rush to make it home either. Having to live with your parents to make ends meet until you could afford a place of your own was a heavy burden especially since they were both alcoholics. Since you could remember, there had been empty liquor bottles strewn about the house you called your home.  It was a miracle you made it to adulthood. Standing at the bus stop, embarrassed to be waiting for the only mode of transportation you could afford, you wrap your leather jacket tighter around your frame. It wasn’t exactly your style, but if you wanted the attention of the pathetic loyal customers from the bar, you had to wear it.

The nights were getting colder as winter began creeping its iced fingers into the empty and dying city you’d grown up in. It was always amazing to you how quickly the seasons fluctuated. Though it was still October, you trembled from the chill sliding up and into your bones, the thin material of your tights doing nothing to suppress the shaking of your body and chattering of your teeth.

You hated waiting at this vulnerable place all alone in the middle of the night, but there was no one you knew who would come out to pick you up. Already worried and on edge, the sound of a rolling glass bottle draws your attention towards the alley that was a few feet away from where you stood. Holding your breath and reaching for your Mace, you push yourself into the corner of the bus stop’s shelter. Feeling like a sitting duck, you curse inwardly, wishing that your life were much different than the shit show you currently endured.

Watching the alley closely, you grip your chest when a cat suddenly scuttles out from the shadows. Feeling a sense of relief, you let go of the breath you didn’t realize you were holding and chuckle quietly thanking the gods that it was just a sweet, innocent, harmless, animal. Relaxing your frame and going back to sit on the bench, you barely make it one step before something snatches you up from the ground successfully elevating you above the trees before you could even scream.

Your voice is gone, a vice grip around your neck making it impossible to take in any oxygen. Willing your body to move and fight, it doesn’t respond, leaving you a whimpering and helpless mess. There’s an ache near your neck, a pain you can’t quite explain paralyzes your vocal chords. It feels like pins and needles, surging through your entire body and keeping you completely still. You barely register a hand over your stomach holding you in place, pressing you up against a from...was it a body?

Not able to keep your eyes from closing, you fall into a deep sleep, though your mind is restless with fight. The last thing you think you hear is a low chuckle from a sweet voice that pulls at you, an impossible feeling of longing and need filling your entire being.

_____

Jungkook intended to kill you right away, he wanted to play a game of taunting and fear, but something stopped him. He doesn’t know if it was the struggle swirling in your eyes, or the physical stench of sadness emanating from you that was drawing him to you. It intrigued him because he’s never experienced this sensation before, and having been fed up with his monotonous routine, he couldn’t help but be interested.

It was cute how defensive you were, a fighting spirit which he made a mental note of.  Sensing your fear, smelling it, had made his eyes roll to the back of his head with desire. You definitely were unlike any human he’d ever encountered and he just had to have you. It was strange how tonight of all nights he found you, a night when he felt the most alone. Holding you close to his body, with his teeth neatly nestled into your neck, he found himself unable to control his chaotic mind, fighting against the instinct to take your life.

His only intention was to capture you, see if you were worth the trouble, but now having had a taste of you, he knew he was in trouble. In his momentary lapse of judgement he had rushed at you, quicker than your human eyes could see. He just needed to see if what he was feeling was real. Unwillingly he removed his mouth from your skin, retracting his fangs regretfully. He set you down on the moist grass in the now secluded area he managed to swiftly snatch you into. Taking a closer look at your face, he was pleased to see that his vampire eyes had not lied to him; you were gorgeous.

He couldn’t remember the last time a human had interested him this much. Sure he’s seen his fair share of beautiful women, but none like you. He was drowning in your essence, consumed by you entirely. Softly you twitch reacting to the toxin his fangs had released into your bloodstream. It was just enough to keep you sedated, helpless and ready to satiate his hunger. Soft sounds emit from your throat showing your feisty spirit; not many humans were able to fight against his poison. Biting back a smirk, he caresses your cheek softly admiring the supple skin making contact with his cold fingers. “Beautiful…” he whispers.

Not having thought through his irrational actions, he crouches above your figure unsure of what his plan for you would be. It was times like this when he hated his impulsive vampire behavior. If he were being honest, he wasn’t as strong as he portrayed. His kind were vicious animals, always on the prowl having an advantage over weak and puny humans, but he was lonely. That loneliness is what called him out into the night searching for something he couldn’t quite describe. Jimin was the only other vampire he associated with currently, yet it wasn’t enough.

They met by accident in a quite comical manner. Both had been out seeking whom to devour when they both fell upon the same victim. After the confusion they both laughed at the sheer stupidity of their mistake. Jimin then offered Jungkook a taste of his personal blood collection, and they’d been friends since. He didn’t hate Jimin, he just pitied him for living such a reckless empty life, though Jimin would beg to differ. He was happy to be this free without restraints, while Jungkook’s heart ached for something more.

A quiet groan from you brings his mind back to the current circumstance.  He looked you over completely wondering why you were dressed in such a fashion when it was quite obvious from your look that you were fragile. His mind swirled with all the options he could choose from. He could just let you go and move on, but he already knew that would be impossible. Another choice would be to take you, keep you as his personal little secret, but that would mean a lot of lying. Jimin lived with him and he wasn’t quite sure Jimin could keep his hands to himself.

When you stir again Jungkook realizes he has minutes to make his decision, and deciding that he couldn’t bear the feeling of separating from you, he lifts you back into his arms swearing under his breath at the current reckless behavior he was about to commit. “How ironic.” he chuckles.

When he brings you closer to his skin, he shudders at the feel of yours. Your face falls into the crook if his neck and he feels inexplicably weaker. Who were you? Holding you impossibly closer, he lifts up into the air, morphed between beast and human. His speed and flight abilities were only present when he was in his beast form, but he was always going too quickly for any human eyes to detect, so it never bothered him.

His current worry was you seeing him as your body began waking up much too quickly for his liking. Landing on a large branch near his castle, he uses his keen eyesight in search of Jimin, and relief is quick to find him when Jimin is nowhere in site.

Finally making it to the top balcony of his own private room, he quickens his steps to the nearby guest room. Placing you on the bed, he finds a way to restrain you to the bed where it’s not too uncomfortable for your soft delicate skin. What his plan was, he didn’t know, but what he did know was that he didn’t want to let you go. The doors of the castle as old as they were, still held an impenetrable strength with lock and key. He knew you’d probably loosen yourself from the ties before the morning arrived, but you would definitely not be able to leave this room. Biting you a bit gentler this time, he releases more of his numbing drug into your body hoping it will render you useless until morning; until he could figure out this mess.

Knowing that Jimin might sense you, he waited all night for him to arrive. He had a plan, though it was a bit unorthodox, he hoped it would work and that eventually, you’d want him as much as he wants you. _____

Slowly the light of the morning summons you awake, throat dry and desperate for water. A small ache on your neck causes you to shift in search of the origin of the pain, but you find your body isn’t complying. Your hands and feet are bound and you’re slowly coming to, somewhat clueless as to why you find yourself in this situation. When your eyes focus better and look around, you realize that you’re not in your home, and suddenly pieces of the night before start flooding in.

Fear and utter desperation drive your body into panic mode and you begin pulling hard against the bonds that confine you to a foreign mattress. Heart rate soaring and breath heaving, you fight for barely a minute before absolute exhaustion takes over. Temporarily giving up, your mind begins to work out all the ways you could get out of this situation. Someone must have kidnapped you, but you never saw who or what had.  You can barely focus on anything as the burn on your neck makes it hard for you to concentrate. Wanting to scream, you rethink it; your throat already dry and scratchy.

A quiet shuffling from the outside of the room throws you into a panic. This room looked old, furniture from a time period you’ve not ever seen. The windows are adorned with drapery and layers of dust. Creeking your neck up you try to locate the exit, immediately realizing that you’d never be able to leave without a key of some sort, you begin to cry. Another shuffle, brings a tiny squeal from your mouth, eyes beginning to fill with tears at the total fear you can’t process.

The hatch creeks and the solid oak door begins to open, stealing your breath away. Your vision is too blurred, your tears completely inhibiting your view. Blinking rapidly, you work with all your might to see who your kidnapper could be. Finally seeing a bit, you are shocked by what you see. A man, at least it appears to be a man; it was hard to see with the way his long hair covered his face, walks into the room wearing torn clothes and mismatched pieces. He looks sad, fresh bruises adorning his skin, making him look worn and abused. When he finally turns, you notice a black eye and a bruised lip. When his eyes land on yours, you pull back, only to realize you can’t really get very far.

“I’m sorry. It’s okay. I won’t hurt you, please.” his voice sounds panicked and soft, making you relax the smallest bit. “I’m sorry to have scared you. I--I’m here to bring you food and water. My master sent me in. Don’t be afraid.”

Setting the tray down, Jungkook eyes you curiously working every muscle in his face to remain in character. When he had come to Jimin with the idea of being a  subordinate of his in order to gain your trust, Jimin had scoffed and laughed at him for longer than Jungkook expected. Jimin was curious the moment he arrived at the castle, immediately having picked up your scent. Jungkook had to think quickly.

From the second he arrived, Jungkook had cornered him making it very clear that you were off limits. Jimin, as always, was intrigued and very curious about Jungkook’s behavior. Who could have made Jungkook into such a pathetic sap of a vampire?  He knew his friend for a long time, and not once had Jungkook ever cared about a human, always wanting to hunt them wickedly for the pure fun of it. At least Jimin was merciful, seducing the woman into wanting to give themselves to him.

“If that is your wish brother, I’ll indulge you, but your ridiculous vampire games are really taking on a sickening twist. Isn’t it much easier to charm the blood out of your prey?” Jimin spat out, entirely focused on picking at his nails.

“Just do as I say. I’ve never asked you to do anything for me, just this one thing. You have no need to worry about her. You have to promise me you’ll keep away from her. She’s mine.”

Jimin chuckled and stuck out his hand to shake with Jungkook. “Fine. But I really don’t get what’s so special about her. She must really taste sweet if you want to keep her for yourself.”

At Jimin’s words Jungkook growled lowly making Jimin bring his hands up in a show of innocence. “Hey, relax. Now, what do you need me for?”

“Hit me.” ____

Watching your reaction, he slowly sidled to the bed where you lay, displaying a soft and gentle approach. For some reason, you trusted him, and it set his blood to boil. Slowly he eyed you, waiting for you to flinch, but you didn’t. Your pretty pink lips gently trembled as the tears staining your cheeks began to dry.

Grabbing a cloth from the tray, he offered it wordlessly, clearly ready to help you if you let him. When you shifted forward, Jungkook bit his lip, afraid he’d smile and give himself away. Bringing his hand to your face, he suffers silently at the way your eyes shut at the feeling of the warm cloth washing away the uncomfortable sensation now crusted upon your skin.  A soft sigh escapes you and it takes everything within him not to kiss you.

Wiping gently over every curve of your face, he reigns in his urges when he sees the marks he’d given you the night before. It had not been deep enough to scar, but the caked on blood that remained made his mouth water. You really were the most delicious thing he’d ever tasted.

Standing, he quickly turns to hide the fangs that began to reveal themselves. He really didn’t know what it was about you that made him lose control. It made him angry, and yet, it intrigued him all the more.  

“I have some water. I can untie you, per my master’s request, but you have to promise not to run. If you do, my master will hurt me.”

Opening your eyes, the only thing you register is the word “untie”, but then the rest of his words tamper down your survival instincts. You already saw the way he was treated by his “master” and you really didn’t want to be responsible for something worse happening to him. What kind of place were you in, and why did he even have a master? This whole situation was absolutely crazy. Thirst over-powering your senses, you quickly concede.

“I won’t run.”

Looking over his shoulder, Jungkook can sense you’re telling the truth, but wanting to solidify it, he adds something more.

“Do you pinky promise?”

He knew the words were childish, a phrase he’d overheard children say to each other, but your sweet innocent-like nature made him crave your trust in such a fashion. It didn’t take you very long to answer him at all.

“I pinky promise. Please, I’m so thirsty.”

___pt 2

In the city of Chicago, busy mortals walk in a fast pace, a bit too close for Jimin's liking when he notices that no one has a regard to excuse themselves or do a double take when bumping into someone. However, it's not at all that busy at night than it is during the day. The streets aren't empty, but at least he can walk the streets at an arms length from others. From then on, he takes into appreciation of the mundane world and its perks.

The night is usually the time he sneaks away to visit the lovely Chicago, having to visit his favorite bar with his favorite bartender as a necessity.

"It's packed tonight," Jimin speaks as he scans the dim surrounding of the bar, noticing that there is a group playing pool, two guys playing darts, and all the high-stool tables were occupied. Jimin finds it odd, seeing that he's almost there every night and not once has it been this packed before. The bartender nods in response, creating gin and tonic for the third time for Jimin's liking for the night. "Is there something to celebrate?"

"It's Friday night," the bartender says, placing the glass in front of Jimin who is not at all feeling the mighty lowered inhibitions deriving from his prior glasses. The bartender pauses before shooting a glance at Jimin. "Come to think of it, you never visit Friday nights."

This was true.

Jimin doesn't usually like to come on the weekends, mostly because the Counsel likes to make their dreadful visits in his kingdom of Merosa. Oddly enough, it's just him out of his brothers that the Counsel likes to make their constant appearance, being no stranger to the fact that Jimin makes other-worldly visits to the mortal earth and that Jimin, from the beginning of time, has an eye for all things out of his reach.

This time was an exception though because he was on a so-called "trip" to Ardor to visit his younger brother, Taehyung, an excuse to make his actual trip to the mundane world where he fancies the gin and tonic by his favorite bartender.

"Busy work," Jimin mutters in response, bringing his glass to his lips before a sudden mishap takes over, causing him to spit and sputter in an embarrassing mannerism, his expected drink to only spill over his button-up, down his chest.

He knows it's not his fault that the rim of the cup did not land against his lower lip, but an underlying factor of where he was dared to be touched by a mundane. He could almost react out of anger— he's seen it before in drunken mortals who pit fights against each other, taking slurred swings at one another only to be kicked out of the bar. However, he lets out an annoyed sigh, realizing that he would stink of strong alcohol going back into his castle.  

"Are you alright?" A light voice speaks from next to him. His ears quirk at the sound as he responds by raising his head to meet the origin of the concerned voice. "Sorry about that. Hayeon tends to be a bit much when she takes more than two shots."

His eyes meet hers.

Warm and soft all over, there was life radiating in her eyes. She holds onto her friend, one he assumes is the infamous Hayeon by her damp hair and how she clings onto her, the concerned person keeping her steady as she uses the counter as foundation.

"Let me pay for your drink," she says in a nearly strangled voice, struggling to keep her friend rooted against her as she takes out her card from her bag. Jimin takes one good sweep of her form as she digs into her bag, a quick memorization of how she wore a very revealing top, her hair being tied up into a bun not helping his situation of his eyes lingering on her shoulders a second too long before he then notices how she wore tightly fitted jeans against her slender legs. "Hey, Marcel. Another drink for this guy. Hayeon's messy tonight, so we're heading out."

The mutual bartender nods and glances at a damp Jimin, letting out a sigh in turn of Hayeon's doing. Swiping her card, Jimin watches as she takes her card back from Marcel, a small smile on her face before she looks back at the victim.

"Sorry it went to waste," she apologizes once more.

Before Jimin could actually show his gratitude, she was already throwing Hayeon's arm over her shoulder to carry her out of the bar, Jimin acting out of accord and grabbing the stranger's wrist a second before it was too late to grab her name. "Wait—"

The touch felt like a thousand spikes underneath the pads of his fingertips, hitting each nerve before he felt his chest constrict all at once. Immediately, he retracted his hand, her skin burning his to the point where he didn't know if it was too hot nor too cold. And when she stares at him, a couple times blinking with confusion etched in her facial expressions at the way Jimin was staring at her like a ghost, entirely paralyzed head down, he wasn't at all surprised when she turns back to where she was heading, hauling her intoxicated friend out of the bar without another word, wholly oblivious to the revelation at hand.

And as he takes a glimpse of her back profile, he notices a mark forming into the back of her neck in such bold, ebony lines that laughed evilly in his face; he felt his non-beating heart drop to his stomach.

"Here's your refurbished dri—"

Jimin gets up instantly, legs wobbling into the bathroom where he bites on his tongue until he is facing the mirror. He unbuttons his shirt entirely, cursing his collar being up to his neck until he is entirely free of the material. Ruthlessly and desperately, he punches his reflection, his face shattering with the sound of the shards falling into the sink. He ignores the scarlet forming around his knuckles as he picks the largest shard out of all of the pieces and walks over to the next mirror down.

Carefully, despite his shaking hands, he brings the shard to hover over the back of his neck, angling it in different positions to find something out of the ordinary, eye-catching, the bane of his existence. And so on, as he did, he finds what he was looking for, his eyes fluttering to grab an image of what was not there before he met her.

Trembling hand gripping onto the shard, crimson trails falling down his wrist, a picture of him staring at himself with the widest of eyes.

A mark that crosses between the crescent moon and the whole sun, engraved on his neck in the same bold lining as hers. His mouth goes dry.

"Shit," he curses under his breath, clattering the piece of glass into the sink, ignoring that his own blood has stained his shirt, splattered on the sink and bathroom floor in a murder-esque way. He takes a step back as he realized the mistake of his unworldly doing.

It hurt to know that you could just be another fleeting memory in his long list of life adventures.

But when you’d seen that man walk into your tiny bookstore, you knew that he was the start of your life changing.

Everywhere he went he drew in attention, his silver hair alone made him stand out against the rest of the usual crowds, but he also tended to dress in all black, with lots of heavy silver necklaces, earrings and rings covering himself.

You fell in love, fast and hard.

Only to learn a couple weeks into seeing him that he had some...special dietary needs.

He hadn’t meant for you to find out at all actually.

When Jimin slept around it usually benefited him if his partners didn’t know he was a vampire.  There were far too many partners and that was far too sensitive of information.

But something about the way you had smelled one night when his head was buried into the crook of your neck as you rode him…

It made his normally hidden fangs pop out with a loud snap, like bone cracking.

You’d been frightened you hurt him, quickly hopping off of him only to see his already pale skin gone even paler.  A slight purple hue formed around his eyes and all of his veins seemed to be visible and bringing themselves to the top of his skin.

Someone saner might have screamed and ran, but instead you had become concerned for him.

The convenience of you knowing his secrets made you his ideal person to go to for a bite or a fuck.

You knew deep down that's all this was.

So why in the world was he asking to turn you.

“Jimin...I think we need to stop this.” Your voice quivered.  You’d been terrified to say those words, but you knew that it wasn’t healthy for you to keep coming back to this vampires bed so often.  

His fangs stayed tucked in their place, but as Jimin’s jaw dropped you could see the color from his skin face and viens start to spiderweb out from under his eyes.

“What.” He growled, furious and dark eyes were meeting yours and piercing through you intensly. “Why?”

You started to get out of his bed and gather your things, getting your clothes back on with your panties first.  (Finding them flung completely out of his room and into the hallway)

“y/n.” he growled once again, in an even lower rumble. “What do you mean.” he was sitting up in bed, his face still obviously strained.  “I-I give you everything…” he muttered to himself.

As you continued to gather your things silently, his eyes were blinking quickly and he was zoning out into the corner of the room, his lips moving but nothing coming out.

He seemed to be racking his brain for any sort of thing he’d done just then to make you want to leave him.

He was so dense.

“Jimin.  You’re selfish.” You finally were dressed with your shoes and bag in hand, standing in his doorway as he still sat upright but covered from the waist down under his sheets.

“Selfish?” He spat back your word.

“Yes.” you  nodded. “You want to make me live forever so that you can have me to fuck whenever you want me.  That’s not good enough for me.”

You spun around to leave but the familiar rush of wind moving past your face told you before you had even seen it with your eyes that Jimin was in front of you blocking your way out now.

You were surprised though to see something that almost might be a hint of sadness on his face along with his confusion.

“But I-” Jimins fists clenched together tightly.

“You what Jimin?” You rolled your eyes.

“I do love you…” He whispered so quietly that it almost got missed.

“You…”

“I love you y/n!” He shouted out as if to make up for how quietly he’d spoken it the first time around.

It was your turn to stand before him in shock and confusion.

“Y-you...You can’t just say things like that to get me to turn for you.  That’s not fair.” You felt tears start to well up in your eyes and you started to raise up a fist to land against his chest, but he caught your wrist in his hand.

“I’m not just saying that.” His voice was quiety but sincere. “y/n I haven’t been with anyone since you...I lied.”

Your jaw dropped open and you froze in his touch.

“But, you said...we weren’t…” You choked on your words, each one getting caught up in your throat on it’s way out.

“I know what I said.” He sighed. “But how could I tell you that you weren’t allowed to be with anyone else.  How could I take away the chance that you’d find someone better for you.  Someone who could give you all the human things you could ever need…” You’d never seen Jimin cry, but a single tear had now escaped from the corner of one of his eyes. “Someone who wouldn’t take from you so much…” He wiped the tear away with the back of his hand.  “I know I’m selfish, I know.  I have nothing to offer you back here, and you…” He looked you up and down, “Are just everything...Everything I could ever want.” Jimin fell into a full body sob now, unable to contain his emotions.  Emotions you didn’t even realize he was capable of.

Not able to find the right words to say, you took your hand and placed your palm on the soft skin of his cheek, it was slightly wet from the tears that had started to pour.

You gave him a soft smile.

“Hey…” You tried to bring his head to face yours. “I didn’t realize.”

Jimin dragged his forearm across both of his eyes to clear away the rest of his tears and sucked in a deep breath.

“I know.  You couldn’t have.” He sighed. “I knew this would h-happen.” He seemed to almost break into another sob but held himself back “Happen eventually.  I just didn’t realize it’d be so soon.” He sighed.

“Jimin I’m not leaving you…” You chuckled. “Not now you complete idiot.” you wrapped your arms around him and held him close.  Your hands slid up and down the skin of his back as you held him to you.

He accepted your hug but seemed to stand frozen in confusion.

“Jimin I love you too.  If you really want me…”

He cut you off to answer. “Fuck yes I do.  I’m so sorry I tried to hide it.” his arms finally returned your hug and he held you into him even tighter.

“Does this mean you’ll turn for me?” He asked, his eyes bright and excited.

“We’ll see.” You chuckled, knowing that whenever you decide to tell him your decision, you already knew the answer.

❦

You don’t feel anything at first.

There is a crescendo ringing in your left ear from the impact; all the other sounds in the background dull down into a low hum.

And then you feel it. The way his hard knuckles dig into the cushion of your cheek, sending an explosion of pain across the whole expanse of your face. Your head flies back from the force and hits the wall behind you with a loud bang, a sore bulge immediately forming at the site of contact.

This comes as no surprise; you had anticipated this as soon as his voice started raising and you saw his fist form, then when it came flying towards you, time began to slow and your senses went numb for a blessed few seconds. They always do nowadays. It’s almost as if your own body registers what’s coming at the same time as your mind and wishes to protect you from the pain, if only just for a short moment, by delaying the sensation of the blow.

Legs giving way, your body slumps against the wall and slides down. You taste blood, warm and metallic. Familiar. Though strangely there’s hardly any pain from the cut where you’ve bitten the inside of your mouth.

Maybe because you’re hurting too much everywhere else.

He’s yelling at you, spittle flying in your direction like bullets, yet you don’t hear what he’s saying. His words an unintelligible roar in your ears, though you’re not sure if it’s due to his drunken slur or the blankness of your mind.

You stare through the gap between his legs at the fallen chair. Waiting for it to be over.

The ache in your cheek, you can withstand. His violent outbursts, you can ignore. You can endure all this, you have endured all this for years.

For her.

But then he’s suddenly spinning around and storming in the direction to her room. True fear is an irreplaceable feeling. Nothing in this world can make your heart drop down an abyss the way this moment has, the dark chasm engulfing your sanity in a split second.

He knows he has ruined you after all these years, knows that you may bleed but you don’t hurt from his fist anymore. There’s one way to truly wreck you and it is through her. Always her.

You’re scrambling after him, hauling his shirt back with all your strength until you feel the seams rip in your grip. The back of his hand strikes your untouched cheek but the pain is nothing compared to the pure dread and panic lurching in your throat.

“Please! No!” Your plead falls unheard, his ears too shrouded by his rage.

Crawling after him, you use every cell in your body to stop him from getting to her, grabbing his ankles, letting him kick you away like a stray dog, but quickly getting back on your hands and knees again. The taste of saline infuses with the blood on your tongue - that’s when you notice the stream of tears rupturing from your eyes. Though vision blurred, you’ll never forget the heart-wrenching look of trauma on her small face when you finally arrive at her door.

Beautiful eyes wide in horror, round cheeks pink and wet, small hand clutching the worn down stuffed bear you got for her birthday three years ago to her chest. The sound of your name forming on her trembling lips. Which you don’t get to hear before she’s yanked up by her hair in his fist.

Her cry of pain is stifled by the scream of protest that erupts from you. ‘Leave her alone!’

“Shut up, bitch! This is your fault.” Then he’s slamming her head into the wall.

You launch yourself onto his large figure, strengthened by you hatred from him and love for her. You’re punching him, kneeing him, ripping his hair out. “Stop, you motherfucker! STOP!”

At first he laughs at your futile attempt to take her from him, her poor frail body dangling from his hold around her neck, kicking at him with her short weak legs. But then you begin to do damage. You feel the warmth of his blood under your nails. You savour in it. You grow bolder knowing that you’re hurting him. It’s sick, but his cry of pain when you bite down on his shoulder almost coaxes a smile from you.

So he drops her onto the ground as if she were some broken doll to turn his attack back to you. You barely feel the hard of his bones anymore as he swings at you; your only purpose is to clamber to her and protect her with your own body.

The small whimpers escaping her cracked lips spring fresh tears from you as you cradle her tiny frame under yours and shield her from his blows with your back. Her eyes are already swelling shut from his punches but she forces them open to look at you. To thank you. One last time because the end for you two is approaching.

You can feel it: the shadow of the reaper loitering over you, waiting to receive the gift that is your deaths.

At least you’ll be together. From beginning to end.

Pain is everywhere but nowhere. A kick to your head, another at your ribs. Your consciousness is waning, so you don’t notice that she is no longer breathing until your arms on either side of her head give way and you slump down onto her still body.

“Bitch, stay down.” He hisses, and you can imagine the triumphant look on his face at the sight of the artistic masterpiece he has created with your blood and her broken bones heaped onto the ground.

His foot is still hammering down onto your spine as you try to shake her awake, though you’re not sure why because death is a blessing for you two.

“Please.” Only a wisp of a breath is mustered from you raw throat.

She doesn’t stir, pretty flutter of eyelashes drooped low.

“Please…”

Then a weight is lifted from you.

There’s a commotion in the room but you barely hear it over your slowing heartbeat pumping it’s last efforts in your ear, closing eyes fixed on her lifeless face, once your only source of joy. Maybe he is screaming, you can’t tell. You hope he’s screaming.

The floor against your cheek feels ice cold.

You feel light.

Darkness is ebbing into your vision.

You’re still crying. Because you’ve waited for so long to be free and you finally will be.

You hear voices, deep and smooth. Voices of angels perhaps?

A hand, strong yet gentle, turns you over. And you see faces, beautiful awe-striking face. Yes, definitely angels.

But what is that dripping down their chins?

More divine faces hover over you, eyes glowing in an expression that can only be described as: Desire.

“Finally.” Two fingers caress your blood-crusted cheek as one speaks. They feel cold.

“You poor, poor thing.” Someone lifts your lolling head onto their lap and brushes the hair out of your face with a lover’s touch.

“Can’t tell if your life is about to get better or worse.” Why can you still hear? When is the finality of death going to grace you?

“But whose will she be? We all found her together.”

“We can decide that later. Feed her first.”

Nothing is making sense, though you suppose nothing should. You’re dying after all. That, at least, is one thing you know for sure.

Their faces are blurring, sweet voices muffling.

A warmth is pressed onto your mouth, and trickling onto your tongue is a wine-rich taste. You’d always thought death would taste more bitter. But then it’s running down your throat, and you’re suddenly aware of how real, how physical the sensation feels.

Is that liquid?

Your own blood?

You can’t help but swallow the taste.

And finally, you exhale, expelling your last breath as well as the tendrils of your finally-liberated broken soul.

❦

@serendipity-secrets @killcomet @askingtheimportantthingshere

❦

16/09/2019