#vampire!seokjin

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]

#74 - Growing Family

Regret is a funny thing, isn’t it? Something usually has to happen first before you can regret it. You regret not wearing comfy shoes on your night out; you regret getting tipsy, and you regret calling your best friend Seokjin tonight.

However, being your best friend, Seokjin shows up at the bar you’re at. His eyes are frantic as he pushes past the bouncer, too concerned over you to care about the meaty hands grabbing at his biceps. A firm glare from him has the bouncer releasing him. 

Seokjin knows his heart would thunder in his chest if it still beat, but right now it sits still in his ribcage, frozen long ago. Seokjin’s fairly tall and with you wearing heels, he’s able to spot you as you laugh with a strange man who leans too close to you. The man throws his head back with a laugh, exposing his neck and for a moment, Seokjin thinks about ripping his throat to shreds with his fangs, but right now you’re his primary concern.

What could possibly be so hilarious? Seokjin had been your best friend for a little over a year, and no offense, you weren’t that funny. Besides, it’s not like he hid his crush from you, or your very obvious crush on him. In fact, he had asked you out for the following night, so seeing you here at a bar with Sir Laughs-A-Lot felt like a stake through the heart.

With long strides, Seokjin walks up to you, cutting Laughs-A-Lot off with a sneer as he wraps his arms around your shoulders. You’re not surprised by the touch, recognizing its familiarity and moving closer until his firm chest is pressed to your back. You nearly nuzzle into his neck when he places a large palm on your hip. It sends a shiver down your spine.

Seokjin eyes the man, eyes hard as he scoffs. “Baby, ready to go?”

The pet name makes your cheeks spike with heat. “Definitely.” 

You turn to the man whose name you don’t even remember. “It was nice meeting you.”

Intimidated by your glaring best friend, the man nods before scurrying out of your proximity. Okay, Seokjin may have flashed his fangs at him, but you didn’t need to know that!

“Hey, what are you doing here?” you ask as you turn to face Seokjin. He ignores you for a moment, waving at the bartender, who rushes over to him. A dazzling smile appears on his lips, only dimming when he sees Seokjin’s hand move to your lower back, nearly on your ass.

“Close her tab, please,” The bartender nods, star-struck by how melodic Seokjin’s voice is. Feeling pity for the man, Seokjin winks at him, and that has him rushing to close your tab, handing Seokjin your card. He signs for you as you kiss his cheek before he’s lacing his fingers with yours to lead you out of the bar.

Once in his car, you ask him again how he knew you were there with a pout on your lips.

“You called me, baby. Remember?” he asks as he pulls into traffic, one hand on the steering wheel and the other on your thigh after moving your dress upward a bit to feel your warmth under his icy palm. You shiver but place your hand on top of his to keep him there.

“I must have,” you answer. “Thank you for coming. I can always count on you.”

Seokjin smiles, looking over at you for a moment. “Always.” 

He brings your hand to his lips, kissing them before driving the rest of the way to your apartment, where you invite him in.

While you shower and change into pajamas, Seokjin grabs you a bottle of water and heads to your bedroom. He changes out of his clothes into his stash of pajamas he has in your dresser.

When you join him in your bed, he’s not surprised to see you in one of his oversized sweatshirts. You look so cute, he can’t seem to ask for it back. Instead, he holds you close, fangs threatening to appear when he gets a whiff of your scent.

Seokjin hands you the bottle of water. The cap is already loose, so you don’t have to struggle to get it open like usual. You thank him, drinking half of it before you’re handing it back to him to set on your nightstand. 

Like usual, your lamp is on and dimmed on the nightstand, your blackout curtains drawn shut, velcroed to the wall to keep them from moving, and most importantly, to keep the morning light out when the sun rises. Seokjin will just have to spend the day with you indoors tomorrow until the sun sets and he’s able to go home.

Not like either of you minds though.

“Thank you for coming to get me,” you whisper as you cuddle into his side, his arms wrapping around you. “I’d been drinking water by the time you showed up. My coworkers left to do their own thing and then that guy came over and I didn’t know how to tell him to leave.”

“I flashed my fangs at him,” Seokjin grins. You slap his chest playfully. “I thought he got a little pale when he left.”

“His heart was racing,” Seokjin licks his lips, the thought of drinking his blood clouding his eyes.

“Are you thirsty?” you ask him, meeting his gaze.

“Are you offering?” He responds with a raised brow and a heated gaze that sends a tingle down your spine.

You answer him by taking off the sweatshirt you’ve stolen from him, remaining in just a pair of panties. 

Seokjin’s breath gets caught in his throat, admiring your body, and his fangs elongate when you tilt your head to the side to expose more of your neck. He leans closer, his lips barely brushing your skin as his hands grip your hips. The pounding of your heart is music to his ears and his fangs scrape against your skin.

“Fuck,” you sigh, eyes rolling to the back of your head as he easily maneuvers you onto his lap, his hand gripping your hair to hold you in place as he presses a kiss to your skin. “Seokjin.”

Seokjin smirks, licking his lips when you grip his biceps and his plush lips suck on your neck for a moment before his fangs sink into you.

“Oh, fuck baby,” Jin groans, swallowing a mouthful of blood. He sinks his fangs in deeper, grunting when your hips grind down on his, moaning when you meet his erection. Your soft whines turn him on further, lost in your essence as he feeds from you.

Blood dribbles from the opening his fangs have made and Seokjin pulls away from you, mesmerized by the burgundy rivulets that flow down your neck toward your breasts. Your chest rises and falls as you pant, licking your lips when you notice Seokjin’s fucked out gaze. Seokjin doesn’t think he’s ever seen anything more erotic than you dripping with blood, lips turned in a pout, and asking for more.

Seokjin feels the sting of his throat, mouth-watering when blood trickles between the valley of your breasts. His tongue is scorching on your skin as he licks up the trail, fangs grazing your skin on his way back to the puncture marks. He sucks, eyes rolling to the back of his head as your warm blood meets his tongue, coating every crevice of his mouth. 

“Seokjin,” his name tumbles from your lips in a soft gasp, hips circling over his, biting on your bottom lip when you feel just how soaked your panties have become. Seokjin laps at your neck hungrily, reluctantly pulling away so he can meet your hooded gaze.

“Fuck me,” you plead, batting your lashes. Your hand cups his face, thumb running over his lips to collect any stray blood he’s missed before pushing your thumb into his mouth.

“Marry me,” Jin splutters after sucking the blood clean off your thumb. Your eyes widen at his words, and you know if he had the ability to blush, he would be. 

You smile. “One thing at a time.”

Seokjin nods, pressing his plush lips to yours. You kiss him back, moaning when he nips your lip, tongue tangling with yours as he deepens the kiss. His large hands grip your hips, squeezing them for a moment before he’s trailing kisses down your neck, resisting the urge to sink his teeth into you once again.

Your hips grind down on his, a whine of “please” escaping you. Your fingers card through his hair, tugging at the roots to make him groan. Your lips kiss the column of his throat, making Seokjin curse as he pushes your panties to the side, surprised that he hasn’t torn them to shreds in his eagerness.

You melt into him when he slides two of his fingers into you, groaning when he feels just how wet you are. You rest your forehead on his broad shoulder, hoping you’ll get to dig your nails into his back when he fucks you.

“Fuck, Jin!” you exclaim when his thumb brushes your clit. You nearly fuck yourself on his fingers, moaning against his lips when you kiss him, fingers threaded in his hair, pulling to make him groan.

You can feel Jin’s erection pressed against you. You were worried you wouldn’t be able to take him, but you couldn’t wait much longer. You wanted him, wanted him to fuck you in every which way he wanted to… later. Right now, you just wanted to be wrapped around him, wanted him to fuck you until you came, regardless of how long or short, it took. You’d been dreaming of this moment for years, and you just wanted him to fuck you silly!

Seokjin meets your gaze, his fingers gently caressing your cheek as he continues to pump his fingers in and out of you, listening to every dulcet cry of his name as you beg him to fuck you. 

He chuckles. “It’s that overeagerness that’ll get you in trouble, baby.”

“Hm, is it?”

Seokjin nods, slowly removing his fingers from you to pop into his mouth. He takes his time licking them clean, savoring your taste before he’s pressing his lips to yours. You kiss him back, tongue moving with his as he tugs his boxers down enough to release his hard cock. It slaps against his abdomen and you groan, reaching for it. It’s thick, larger than you imagined in all your daydreams, and larger than it appeared in your wet dreams.

“Fuck,” you curse, looking down at it. Seokjin laughs, body shaking as he takes in your expression.

“Don’t laugh at me!” you whine, pouting.

“You just look so cute. Can’t wait to fuck that little mouth of yours,” he smirks, pecking your lips before he’s pushing your panties out of the way. Gently, he rubs the head of his cock against your clit, the pre-cum making it slide easily before you’re raising your hips, taking his cock in your hand to line him up at your entrance.

Seokjin reaches for your hair, gripping a handful to kiss you deeply. He’s mindful of his fangs that he’s accidentally elongated with his excitement and the succulent scent of your arousal.

“Fuck, fuck.” Seokjin gasps when you drop on him, pussy tighter and wetter than he ever imagined. Time and time again he’d thought of you just like this, wrapped around him, soaking wet, but his hand and his imagination didn’t do you justice.

“Seokjin!” your nails sink into his shoulders, dragging down the sides as you hold on to him. Your eyes squeeze shut and you feel breathless as you try to take all of him and fail, feeling stuffed to the brim. “Oh, fuck.”

“You take me so well, baby. Can you take a little more?” Seokjin asks softly, his hands gently rubbing circles into your skin before moving down to your hips. You nod, inhaling before taking him the rest of the way, crying out his name in a tone that leaves his head spinning as he holds you, your chest pressed firmly against his.

“You’re so good for me, baby,” Jin whispers as he rubs your hips softly, his lips pressing a kiss to your forehead. He allows you all the time you need to adjust to his girth, allowing you to take the lead. It’s a few moments before you’re raising your hips just slightly, biting back a moan when you sink onto his cock again.

You cling to him, face nuzzled in his neck. His name rolls off your tongue, again and again, his grip on your tightening as he raises his hips to meet yours. 

“So full,” you murmur against his skin, and Seokjin can’t help the delightful grin that appears on his lips. You ride him, finding your rhythm that he happily meets, kissing every bit of skin within his reach. His hands cup your breasts, fingers toying with your pert nipples as you bounce on his cock.

“Seokjin!”

“Fuck, love!” Jin curses, overwhelmed with pleasure as you tighten around him. He smacks your ass, feeling your thighs tremble as you whine his name, warning him that you’re close, so close.

“That’s it, baby. Come for me. Come wrapped around my fat cock,” Seokjin encourages in a heady tone that makes your head spin.

“Wanna cream your cock, baby,” you answer, kissing him deeply, fingers pulling on his hair. Seokjin grunts, cock throbbing as you clench around him. He won’t last much longer and he knows your right on the edge.

With skillful fingers, he finds your clit, rubbing it until your moans grow in octaves, nearly falling apart from his ministrations. 

“Bite me! Bite me, Seokjin!” You plead.

Seokjin hesitates for a second, but your firm gaze has his nodding as he swipes his tongue over a hard nipple, teasing it with his teeth before his fangs are sinking into your breast.

“Fuck, yes!” You scream, pussy clenching around him as you orgasm with a cry of his name, thighs trembling on either side of his hips as you ride him into oblivion, body shaking as you fall apart nearly sobbing.

Seokjin curses, gripping your body tight as he cums. He moans your name, and you nearly come again just from the sound of it. You definitely want to hear him say it again.

Panting, you finally slow until you stop riding him. Seokjin kisses your temple, a coy smile on his lips.

“That was amazing,” Seokjin laps at your breast, noting the few droplets that lingered on your skin. He’d taken so much blood from you, he worried he’d overdone it but you seemed to be doing well.

“It was,” you agree as you rest your head on his shoulder, not wanting to get off him. He holds you in his arm, kissing you every so often until he’s softening and pulling you off him.

“No,” you whine at the loss, feeling his cum slide down your thighs. Seokjin laughs, apologizing as he lifts you off the bed to carry you to the bathroom. He sets you down on the counter and you shiver when the cold surface meets your skin.

Seokjin gets the shower ready while you admire his body, smiling proudly when you see the marks you’ve left on his skin. He can feel the heat of your gaze on him, but he tries to focus on getting the shower ready for you.

A quick shower is all Seokjin can convince you of taking. He struggles to wash your hair and body, your whines growing as you grow sleepier. He helps you out of the shower and dries you off before planting you back on the bathroom counter.

“Baby, you need to do your skincare routine,” Jin reminds you before you can fully fall asleep, despite the heaviness in your eyes and the half flutter of your lashes. 

“But sleep,” you mutter. 

“You’ll hate yourself in the morning if you don’t do it now. How about I carry you to bed after I help you?” Jin suggests and you sleepily agree, yawning into his neck, your head resting on his shoulder. 

Jin gets all your stuff ready on the counter. With ease, he does your skincare routine, seeing as you’re no help, too sleepy to care.

However, in the morning you’d be very thankful that Seokjin knew your routine and was capable of doing it while you were half asleep.

“Come on, pretty girl. Time for bed,” Seokjin says once he’s finished, taking you in his arms to carry you to bed, where he lays you down gently before he lies beside you.

You curl into him, your head resting on his chest and your fingers laced together.

Seokjin admires you as you slowly fall asleep, and he knows he’s in too deep. He’s so in love with you, it could easily drive him insane, but he could never dream of being with anyone else. He may be undead, but he’s sure your love for him would be enough to get his cold, dead heart to beat. Seokjin chuckles at the thought, maybe not…

thank you for reading! ♡ if you liked it, please let me know! 💌

❦

“Here you go.”

The clang of the white floral-embossed porcelain dish against the glass surface of the dining table sounds particularly crisp to you ear. The fresh pungent seafood smell infiltrating your nostrils, strong and unmistakable, answering your gurgling stomach.

“Lobster truffle tagliatelle.”

You stare, gobsmacked, at the melon-sized plate of pasta placed in front of you. It’s been so long, so long, since you’ve had a remotely satiating meal. Eyes and mouth watering from the delicious scent, you almost don’t know where to start digging in.

“T-Thank you.” You remember to say, though it comes out as a stammer. The corner of Seokjin’s pursed lips turn up slightly, enough for it to count as a smile.

Fork in your hand trembling in excitement, you impale a large chunk of fresh juicy lobster and twirl a good portion of pasta around it. When the flavour touches your tongue, a grenade of bliss detonates in your mouth, flooding up to awaken the pockets of happiness in your mind that have laid dormant for a while. You can’t help the groan of pleasure that escapes almost indecently.

You stop mid-groan when you remember your whereabouts and present company.

“This is amazing. Thank you for cooking for me.” Clearing your throat, you thank Seokjin again. As you glance up at him, you notice the blush creeping on not his cheeks, but his ears. In any other circumstances, you would find it endearing.

“You’re welcome, it’s my pleasure.” He has a habit of not meeting your eye when he speaks to you, it hasn’t taken you even a day to notice, as his attention currently fixes on a particularly large blotch of oil stain on his cooking apron. “I… enjoy cooking.”

.

After the happenings yesterday, the taste of Namjoon’s blood still tingling the buds of your tongue, you have been trying to steer your mind away from him. You had learnt that vampires sleep during the day, while staying active at night. It had been Monday morning when Namjoon left you in the room after… that thing, and you haven’t seen him emerge from his room since, not even in the evening when he was supposed to be awake.

Good, you don’t want to even remotely think about that. Or him.

You hope you won’t have to encounter him again for the rest of the week now that your day with him is over. That sire bond magic… The memory of the carnal compulsion throbbing in your head and chest makes you shiver.

Is that going to happen with all of them? Because if so, you don’t know how long you can keep hold of your sanity.

So for the rest of the day yesterday, in the absence of your sire to dictate you around in his obnoxiously stern voice, you took it upon yourself to explore the manor and try find out more about this predicament you’re caged in. You made it not ten steps out your room in the eerie candle lit hallway when you stumbled across Hoseok. No, stumbling across is perhaps not the correct term. You have a feeling he had been lurking around, waiting for you.

In your weak-willed confuzzled state from the fixing of the sire bond, you could all but refuse to let him take you on a grand tour around the maze of a mansion the seven of them inhabit. Hoseok had leaped at your response, so enthusiastic, resembling a child receiving a brand new toy he had been begging his parents for.

Despite his constant unfailing smile, there is something quite uncanny about the red-haired vampire. If you look at him for long enough, you can spot the smallest spark of madness behind the glaze of his eyes.

Still, regardless of your hunch, you allowed him to tug on your freshly healed wrist after him. Last time you defied Namjoon, that happened. You didn’t dare to seek the repercussions of challenging another vampire, especially one appearing as eccentric as Hoseok.

Stunning is perhaps too little a word to describe this estate - this is a place of fairytales. Two stories high, a garden the size of a park, a swimming pool to supplement the natural rock pools and ponds, a fertile greenhouse, a library fit for royalty, an underground gym next door to the cinematic movie room… Almost all the facilities one would find in a town located under a single roof. On the second floor are the seven bedrooms, and though Hoseok didn’t take you into any of them, he explained that they are all ensuite and connected to another private room.

“It’s called the Feed room, where the Feed of each vampire resides. The room you were in earlier was Namjoon-hyung’s, his bedroom which he doesn’t allow his Feeds in is through the door opposite the bed.” The door through which he had fled, you had noted in your head. “We don’t normally enter each other’s Feed rooms - it’s disrespectful, invasion of an extremely intimate space.”

No wonder Namjoon had been so displeased with Jimin.

“I guess how it will work now that all seven of us are sharing you,” Hoseok continued. A muscle in your throat twitched at ‘sharing you’. “Is that at the end of every day at midnight, you will rotate to the next Feed room where whoever awaits you. Kinda like… speed dating, but with feeding, and minus the speed ‘cause it lasts a whole day, and also it’s a perpetual weekly cycle.” He let out a sudden burst of laughter, as if he had said something funny, but you found no humour in the situation.

A perpetual weekly cycle. For the rest of your life. Rotating between seven vampires every single day.

The malignant lump in your throat grows, suffocating you.

Hoseok paid no heed to your lacklustre reaction at his supposed joke, instead threw an arm around you and guided you down the corridor. You didn’t run into anyone else in the duration of the tour, no doubt because it was the middle of the day which meant the vampires were all fast asleep.

You wished you ran into someone, anyone, even Namjoon. The sole company of Hoseok was making you uneasy. His overt eagerness towards you, almost like a pet dog, threw you off your axes. Every time he reached out to touch you in some way, though it’s always a harmless friendly gesture, you suppress the instinct to move away.

He appears a very simple man, genuinely happy all the time, child-like cheerfulness, very easy going. But that is all the more reason to fear him. He can act like this with you now, as if you are his friend, yet will also show no mercy in drinking your blood. You still remember how fanatically impatient to feed on you he had been, practically pouncing at your collarbone once given the green light from his leader.

This gemini personality makes you unwilling to trust him one bit, regardless of his kind comical display.

As Hoseok dropped you off back at Namjoon’s Feed room to catch some rest himself, you wonder how he dared to leave you alone unattended. Surely you could sneak out while they’re all asleep and make your great escape.

You had sat at the edge of your bed plotting, deep in contemplation of whether to leave right now before it’s too late, or to earn their trust first. But what would they do if they ever found you again? Surely not kill you, they need you alive for your blood. Surely they won’t hurt you that much either, would they? But then there is also the problem of where to go. You have no home, no family apart from your uncle whose fate remains unknown, no money, no life to return to. What’s the point of escaping then? At least here, you serve a purpose, have a roof over your head and food cooked for you.

Though the harder you thought, the more a heavy exhaustion fell over you. Your daily routine would now have to be synchronised with these vampires, you would have to sleep during the day so you could be awake for them to feed on at night.

You fell asleep wondering whether it was the sire bond lulling you to slumber, among other things in you that it has control over which you do not know of yet.

.

“You enjoy cooking?” You ask curiously after chewing your enormous bite. “So vampires eat regular human food too?”

Seokjin pulls out the chair in front of you at the clothed banquet table and takes a seat. “Well, not really. I guess it’s just me. I find cooking kind of therapeutic and calming in a way, and even though it doesn’t satisfy my hunger, I might as well eat what I’ve cooked rather than let it go to waste. The taste took some time to get used to, human food tasted so strange at first, but I’ve learnt how to appreciate it now… You know?” As he speaks, his finger traces the gold embroidery on the black tablecloth. You oddly want him to look up and meet your eye, but he doesn’t.

You decide that you like Seokjin.

He possesses a soft, shy, delicate quality to him, and unlike anyone else you can tell with certainty that it isn’t a deceitful facade. He is almost very… normal. Namjoon, Jimin, Hoseok, you can believe to be vampires. Whereas with Seokjin, you can’t seem to comprehend.

“Well, you’re a great chef.” It is intriguing, peculiar, how he shows such interest in something as mundane as cooking. He has an eternity to live, yet he chooses to explore the food of mortals as his hobby. But judging by the way you had watched him cook, you suppose culinary skill is more of an art to him. You don’t know why you find that rather cute.

“Thank you.” He mumbles, finally glancing up to check your face only to quickly look back down at his hands when your eyes meet.

When the clock struck twelve at midnight, marking the start of a new day - Tuesday, your day with Seokjin, you woke up with a clearer mind. You would stay here, at least for a while longer, get a feel of this lifestyle, perhaps learn some of their secrets first before making the decision of whether to run away.

You hadn’t bother letting Namjoon know as you made your way to Seokjin’s Feed room. The place is significantly different from Namjoon’s; clean, creamy white, and a gold wardrobe full of laced garments. Very feminine. A note sitting on the pristine dresser wrote:

Good evening.

Please dress in the attire I’ve selected for you found in the wardrobe. If you have any problems, you are welcome to knock on my door to seek help.

- Seokjin

Already, you had taken a preference to him at that point. He seems polite, respectful, the opposite of Namjoon’s imposing rules.

“Why don’t you have some of the pasta? Not hungry?” You smooth over the crease of your ivory dress. It is very finely made, you don’t require an expert eye to be able to recognise; not only this but every piece of clothing in his closet for you. Where did they get all this money?

“Um, I…”

When his sentence fizzles out, you realise your mistake. Your ‘hungry’ is different from his ‘hungry’. He eats food for pleasure, not out of hunger; his thirst is only satisfied through drinking blood, of course. You feel stupid.

“Or… Thirsty?” Placing your silver fork down leaning against the plate, you wipe your mouth with a napkin.

Seokjin physically goes rigid, more so than before. “N-No, I’m fine.” The fabric of the tablecloth bunches up under his fist before he lets it loose. His lips are pursed tensely, rounding his spotless cheeks.

Somehow you aren’t convinced; he hadn’t said it with much conviction. But why conceal his thirst? For once, a part of you wishes for him to feed on you. Seokjin may be your only amicable ally in this house, your only way out even. Bridging the gap between the two of you could be of more use in the future than what you can imagine currently. Furthermore, despite yourself, you feel a sort of empathy towards him. No, maybe empathy isn’t the right word; it’s more like you see a potential of a friendship between the two of you, and you would like to understand him better.

The difference in your mood when you are with him compared to the others is quite drastic, you’ve noticed. You don’t feel bitter or defiant like with Namjoon, hesitant and timid like with Jimin, nor fearful and subdued like with Hoseok. You are at ease, his presence almost calms you though you can’t quite put your finger on the root of it. Perhaps it is because he is the only person thus far who you sense complete genuinity and even guilt from.

But you don’t push it. If he doesn’t insist on feeding, then he has his reasons. It just adds to his intrigue.

A silence falls over the both of you, with you preoccupied with your meal, which you don’t know whether to call it your lunch or dinner see as it is currently the middle of the night. Seokjin gathers himself and straightens, watching you devour his signature dish. He had woken up at the crack of dusk, just as the sunlight was trickling away into evening, to buy the lobster fresh from his well-acquainted vendor by the pier. It is always a nuisance to try to go unnoticed outside; he much prefers staying at home and avoiding the curious breed that is mankind. But he wanted to not only make you feel welcome, but also to impress you. Though you don’t need to know that.

Seokjin is sure your night with Namjoon could not have been a pleasant one. He has scolded his younger brother many-a-times before about being more lenient with his Feeds, but he is a stubborn self-righteous man. Seokjin knows he shouldn’t have but he couldn’t help but listen in on your argument with him, he blames it on the heightened hearing. Though, Namjoon’s Feed room quickly went very silent apart from a few whimpers, which he presumed was because he resorted to feeding to suppress you.

“So… I know this must not be great for you, it usually takes Feeds a while to accept and get used to their new life, but how are you coping with every?” You are surprised to find him meeting your eye and instigating such conversation. He knows he is shy, yet he is trying. At this rate, you will grow fond of him.

“Well.” You unconsciously pat your bloated belly, unaccustomed to having a full stomach; no matter how much you want to finish this glorious plate of pasta, you physically don’t think you can take another bite. “I think ‘not great’ is a slight understatement.” When he winces, you quickly retract your sour tone. “It’s just… a lot to take in. It is overwhelming, really, to be almost plucked out and inserted into a completely different world like I’m some character in a game. The whole supernatural magic thing, the sire bond, the blood drinking. I’m still trying to process it.”

“Of course, I understand that. Trust me, if I could have it any other way, I would.” There is a hint of melancholy in his voice, and his eyes seem to drift to a distant past that you wish to see too. “I guess it doesn’t help that we are all very different vampires fundamentally, with completely different methods of action.”

“Yes, I mean I have spent one day with Namjoon, and only have just briefly spoken to you, Jimin and Hoseok so I can hardly pass a solid judgement, but I can already sense your dissimilarities.”

“How was Namjoon by the way? Harsh, I imagine?” His gaze travels to your wrists, which you note he has been doing subconsciously quite often. Is it out of thirst? Or is it out of concern on whether you were mistreated?

“Namjoon-” Your heart lurches just from saying his name, and the coil that has loosened itself since the last time you thought about your debauchery begins to wind again. “Yeah, harsh.”

“You will have to forgive him. He is… particular about his ways, very set on regulations and discipline. To him, there is a very well-defined line between Feed, and everyone else. Though the rest of us are usually at least friendly with ours, he has always kept it a strict predator-prey relationship with his Feeds. He does not speak to them if not needed, does not see them unless it is to feed, does not allow himself to even converse with them lest they overstep the boundaries he sets. It is an obsolete way to live, as a vampire, yet flexibility and adaptability are not words that agree with Namjoon’s fundaments.”

That explains so much about Namjoon as a person. Perhaps he fears attachment and intimacy with one that he is supposed to view as no more than food.

“Right.” You ponder aloud, perplexed. “I guess I could understand that perspective. Tell me more, about all of you.” This insight into their characters is not only fascinating but is also such useful information, whoever you need to use it against in the future.

Seokjin hesitates, as if unsure he whether he is at liberty to reveal more. But to your relief, he continues.

“Yoongi, you really need to be careful with. I shouldn’t speak ill of him as his brother, but his methods with his Feed are… extremely questionable. A Feed usually lasts us a decade or more; Yoongi can drain his Feeds to death in weeks, even after healing them. The problem isn’t his thirst nor his self-control, it is his lack of empathy, his cruelty. The way he treats his Feeds are… inhumane. We aren’t human but we at least try to act civil, yet Yoongi embraces our nature as demons in its entirety. He doesn’t even try to act like he is more than the monsters we are. He is a sadist, loves to inflict pain, to crush pretty things in his fist...”

Your breath hitches. You had sensed his darkness from the moment you laid your eyes on him when you woke up to them surrounding your bed. He drains his Feeds in weeks? There is no way you’ll survive Yoongi alone, never mind all seven of them.

“And what day am I with him again?” Staring at your half empty plate, you feel your blood draining from your head. Even his own brother admits that he is a monster, you can’t begin to imagine what he will actually be like with you.

“Wednesday, tomorrow.”

It’s like being shoved down a great chasm. The pure dread dripping like acid down your throat as your heart sinks.

You thought Namjoon was bad, but somehow the thought of being bossed around by him sounds extremely pleasant compared to being with Yoongi. And you are going to be alone in his Feed room as well... With no one to stop him to hurt you however he wants… Surely someone will step in if he takes it too far right? Surely, now that they are sharing a Feed? Please?

Flashbacks to your uncle’s fist connecting to your temple flare in your mind, the way he would smile every time he drew blood as if it were some sort of achievement. But you’ve been tortured before. You’ve had it all.

Don’t be scared. Don’t be scared.

You’ve had it all.

You’ve suffered and survived. You can suffer and survive again.

When Seokjin notices the slight trembling at your throat, how your eyes are frozen and glazed over as if in a trance, he quickly says, “Look, don’t worry, Y/N. If he takes anything too far, seriously harms you in anyway, let me know and I will make him stop.”

You blink at Seokjin. And wonder quietly how someone as soft-spoken and gentle as him could command a devilish psychopath. You appreciate the offer, you trust his kindness, you just don’t believe he would be capable of stopping his brother from doing what he wishes if Yoongi with you is as he described.

“Why is he like this..?” Why are there men like him and your uncle? And why can you never escape them?

“He…” Seokjin sighs. “Yoongi was not always like this. We have lived for a really long time, have been through a lot of misery that we all cope with in our own ways. The Yoongi I knew two millennia ago is still in this husk of a man, deep down. He thinks detaching from his emotions, creating this evil persona of himself is the only way he can continue living for eternity. We’ve all tried to help him, trust me, we have. It’s heartbreaking to see someone you love-”

His voice catches in his throat, and you glance up at his face, beautifully contorted in such a candor pain, plump bottom lip jutted out. You pity him. It is torturous to love a monster, worse for immortals.

“I understand it must be.” You quietly say, unsure of how to console him. These vampires, the complexity and depth of their issues are nothing you can ever relate to. You can offer no advice except your sympathy.

You try not to think about how your encounter with Yoongi, the creature so sick and twisted that it broke his brothers’ hearts, is tomorrow. You hate him already.

Desperate to wipe off the sorrow in Seokjin’s features that constricts your heart, you swiftly change the topic. “Tell me about your other brothers. Hoseok? Jimin? Taehyung?”

Seokjin’s eyes widen, as if awoken from deep thought, a redness tinting his face as if embarrassed from the vulnerability he accidentally displayed. “Right.” After clearing throat, his voice resumes its stability. “I guess you should also be careful around Hoseok; he is rather wild and unpredictable, sort of takes everything with a dash of humour, but is also the one with the worst self-control out of us all. He’s impatient and childish, hasn’t really seem to have grown out of his teenage mentality even after two thousand years.”

Just as you predicted. You gulp. This is an improvement from Yoongi, but so is everything. Is that really the standard you’re measuring against now? Seokjin sees the concern in your expression.

“But-” he quickly says, “his intentions are never malicious in any form. I can’t stress enough that he is really just a child at heart who wants to find light in every situation, so don’t let his moods scare you.”

“He does seem… rather odd.” Borderline lunatic, but that would be too rude to call him to his brother. Maybe you are being rude and quick to judge. When did you become like this?

To your surprise, Seokjin lets out a chuckle. You watch his eyes crease in genuine humour, a sight that makes you smile without reason. “Yes, he is very odd. But you will grow to appreciate or even like his personality. Truly brightens your day.”

Oh? You can’t say you believe him. So far, with the exception of Seokjin maybe, you don’t trust any of these vampires. You don’t see yourself ever letting your guard down around them in the future.

“Now Jimin, he wears his heart on his sleeve - very affectionate and loving with his Feeds, almost the polar opposite from Yoongi. He only sires females, and more times than not he falls in love with them. Actually, forget more times than not, I mean every time.”

That both surprises and doesn’t surprise you. It surprises you because it means that tenderness he had shown towards you had not been false afterall. Yet it doesn’t surprise you because in your heart you had believed him when he said he values and respects you, and those emotive eyes of his cannot lie.

Does this also means he will fall in love with you?

You don’t know how to feel. It is oxymoronic to you, for his prey to also be his lover. But what scares you is that, if the sire bond had caused such a drastic change in the dynamic between you and Namjoon, you can only imagine how strongly it will hit a romantic dreamer like Jimin.

And you. Will you fall in love with him too?

“That surely isn’t wise; he must get devastated when his Feeds… pass away.” You ask, and Seokjin’s shrug conveys the same lack of understanding for his brother’s ways as you.

“His coping mechanism is to find a new Feed to fall in love with as quick as possible, find someone to replace that void in his heart. I can sympathise with the appeal of love, we have lived for so long, it gets lonely for someone as affectionate as Jimin who always seeks another half.” At the word lonely, your eyes meet, and for a second you swear you can feel Seokjin resonating with the feeling.

You get the urge to reach out to hold his hand across the table and tell him that he isn’t alone now, though you don’t know why. But you just stare at his creamy unblemished skin and reply, “Oh.”

It shocks you, the urge of emotions you sometimes feel for this man before you, despite knowing him for not a week. You truly, truly want to comfort him. He seems so pure, so undeserving of the title of a vampire. Confusion whirls in your mind.

“As for Taehyung. Oh, Taehyung…” Seokjin sighs in a way that instantly makes you even more interested in the boy he speaks of. “He has many layers to him that will slowly be peeled to reveal a heart of gold, but first you need to endure his mystery and mischief. He may appear unreadable and confusing at first - he’s always had this strange duality to him, but in the end he forms such deep bonds with his Feeds. He is very picky when selecting his Feed, it takes him the longest time to choose one as his taste buds are peculiar and he always assesses the person as a whole rather than settling for any blood.

“He likes to spoil them with riches, designer clothes, sparkling diamonds, anything they desire. Feeds are more like friends then food to him, perhaps on the other extreme from Namjoon. Not only this, he is kind to all of our Feeds too. Him and Jimin often like to share or swap Feeds, as long as one of them doesn’t get to jealous and possessive. He hides his compassion behind his rascal playfulness, but really, he grieves the loss of his Feeds the most out of us all.”

In the blur of your memory, you remember Taehyung as the blonde devilishly handsome boy who was the first to dig his fangs into you. You had been so susceptible to his charm, had leaned into his touch because you had wanted him. Now Seokjin is telling you that this boy is a deeply emotional being who treasures his Feeds as companions?

Should you perhaps not place so much trust in Seokjin? Afterall his opinion on his brothers will of course be biased. Or maybe it is your own judgement that you should doubt. You had been quick to decide on how you view these vampires with the prejudice that they are uncivilised beasts. Yet their complexities have been proven time and time again, shedding the misconceptions you had doled them in your head.

You shall reserve your judgement from now on.

“Also, he will probably ask you to be his muse.”

“Muse…?”

“Yes, Taehyung loves to paint.” Seokjin smiles down at the patterns of the tablecloth to himself with a glimmer of pride for his brother’s artistry.

“Talking about me behind my back, hyung?” A rich voice appears behind you so abruptly that you jump out of your seat, startled, your chair falling back loudly. The clang echoes up the tall walls of the dining room.

Before you can look back, you hear the newcomer effortlessly pick up the fallen chair and push it towards you until its cushioned edge hits the pits of your knees. You smell him before you see him, a fresh almost fruity scent.

“Careful there, Y/N. Can’t contain your excitement to see me?” As he whispers in your ear, an ice cold shiver runs down the course of your back, his breath tingling your skin like teasing fingers.

When you finally get the chance to fully take in his appearance, your legs almost give in and plop right down onto the chair. Some people are so stunning that every time you look at them feels like the first time, their beauty never ceases to strike at you, rendering you completely defenseless. You want to say the culprit is his eyes, but then you see the glorious arch of his nose, and Michaelangelo-painted lips. If Seokjin’s beauty is an iridescence flawlessly-round pearl, Taehyung would be the sharp vibrant amethyst glittering like an undiscovered galaxy.

His tongue swipes out to wet his lips. Something inside you screams.

“Taehyung-ah, it’s impolite to lurk around, and especially rude to intrude on a conversation that does not involve you.” Seokjin chastises, standing up as well to mirror your stance. Suddenly, he sounds quite authoritative, not dictating like Namjoon, but stern, imperious. Unlike his timid tone with you previously.

“Sorry, hyung.” Taehyung expels a childish puff of air through his nostrils and puckers his lips. “Just wanted to see our dear angel over here.”

He stares at you with such an overt desire, almost lewly, that you feel something crawl beneath your skin. You take a step back closer to the table and turn to face Seokjin, if only to save your senses from imploding.

“You may wait your turn to get to know her, like everyone else.” The older vampire states, and though irritation should be ticking his handsome visage, you find a softness in its place.

And once again, you catch a glimpse of the extensive love and tenderness Seokjin feels for his brothers despite their behaviour and his role to keep them in line as the eldest.

“I know, I know.” Taehyung doesn’t step towards you despite noticing the distance you’ve placed. From his tight jaw, you can tell that patience is perhaps not his strong suit. It is straining him. “Only wanted to say hi.” He grumbles, still pouting.

This boyish mannerism is a guise, you remind yourself, masking the sophisticated soul Seokjin was describing. But why? You don’t understand all these impostures they like to put up. Why must they exhaust themselves by constantly playing games of Hide and Seek?

“Well there you go. Y/N and I will get going now, Taehyung.” Seokjin strides around the long dining table to reach your side. As he approaches, you watch his broad shoulders swing from side to side, an irony against his gentle personality.

“Shouldn’t you wash the dishes first, hyung? Can’t leave dirty plates lying around.”

Humour does not find Seokjin’s face, but it does yours. This Taehyung is a daring one to test his brother like this. You glance over to find the same mirth glinting in his ocean blue eyes. You look back at your feet to stifle a giggle.

“I-” He lets out a resigned sigh. “Fine, I will do them right now, don’t you worry. Y/N,” you face him as he address you, and three feet away, his skin looks just as porcelain clear, “why don’t you meet me in my Feed room?”

“I’ll escort her.” Taehyung quickly chimes in.

You hear a noise of protest before you are whisked away by a large palm on the small of your back. When you turn your head back, you see Seokjin shaking his in disapproval and pushing his hair back to reveal the pale curve of his forehead. The action flusters you for some reason.

But then you are keenly aware of the vampire beside you, guiding you out the room towards the grand staircase. The pounding of your heart grows heavier, nervous, scared even. As you peek up at him, Taehyung meets your eye, that serpentine tongue sliding out again. Matching his meandering pace, the both of you walk up the stairs wordlessly. The polished rail happily meets his fingertips as he slides them along the bannister. Your mind scrambles to anticipate what he’ll do next.

At the penultimate step, he makes an abrupt halt. You take your final step onto the landing before your legs know to cease motion as well. And with one wrong turn of you foot, you make the mistake of spinning towards him.

With the height leverage, you are at eye level with each other. Nose to nose, breath to breath. You twisted so quickly out of surprise for his sudden stop that he has to catch you by your waist to prevent you from toppling onto him.

Satan...

It has to be black magic cloaking this boy because you find yourself being sucked into him no matter how lethal he appears.

“Sweet angel.” He takes in your face as if you are a work of art, and now your heart is racing. Because the way he looks at you is the way so many girls dream and dream to be regarded by beautiful men like him with even just an inkling of the longing in his eyes.

“I have turned this world upside down looking for you, you have no idea…” Slender fingers snake to the back of your hips, shooting a flaming arrow up your spine until it is tingling your scalp. You notice the subtle difference in his tone from before, more gentle, less fanatic. “And now I’ve found you. So please understand and forgive my forwardness, I really cannot contain my need for you.”

All you can do is blink at him.

“Uh…” The flattery that his words imbues in you sits in your stomach, tumbling your insides into a tight knot. The feeling of being wanted, needed...

Taehyung lightly tugs on your waist until your hips are touching. When he leans into you, you hold your breath, frozen, watching his lips near yours. But rather than meeting your own lips, they skim past the corner of your mouth, the sensation sending a hot pulse down to your core. His mouth puckers at your cheek, kissing it with a delicacy that you don’t expect from him.

You can’t tell whether the drop of your heart is from relief or disappointment that he didn’t kiss you.

If anyone had tried such an intimate gesture with you, especially a stranger you hardly know, you would’ve kicked them in the shin, or at least yell and pull away. But for some reason, you revel in the smoothness if his lips on your skin, like a cool silken handkerchief brushing against your face.

You lean in, feet digging into the wooden floor to ground yourself. Your fingers toy with the fabric of your dress to remind yourself that this is real.

His lips travel to your ear, breath tickling the sensitive microscopic hairs on your face. “You don’t have to be shy with me, okay?” His voice tunnels into your ear, like a hand reaching into you and tying up your lungs. “You don’t have to pretend not to yearn for me.”

It is a bold assumption he is making, but it is also a true one.

You do yearn for him, in more ways than you can comprehend. The fibres that make up your being goes against the logic in your brain that tells you to hate this blood-sucking demon. But the sire bond hasn’t even been set between you two yet, has it?

Taehyung takes his last step up the staircase to arrive beside you, hands not quite leaving your hips but rather falls loosely to your side. Incapable of uttering a word, you allow him to lead you along the U-shaped corridor, passing door to door that only differ by the gold initials engraved in the dark mahogany wood. Until you arrive before one with SJ - Feed carved.

“Thank you for walking me.” You say although it’s more him who is grateful for the opportunity to spend time with you.

“It’s my greatest pleasure, of course.” Dipping his head, you catch a glimpse of the most dashing of smiles that allows the tip of his fang to peak through. Are they permanently unsheathed?

In the silence that follows, you wonder about the other vampires, their current whereabouts, whether they can hear your conversation with Taehyung. It is eerily quiet, and this house is large enough for your voice to echo. Can they all overhear Taehyung’s brave advances towards you? Can Seokjin?

“I guess this is my least favourite part of our journey - parting.” Taehyung brushes a stray wisp of hair behind your ear. Then the mischief returns to his voice as he suddenly lunges and nibbles on your earlobe, fangs deliberately missing your flesh. “From now on, you will find yourself looking forward to our time together. I promise you, Saturday will soon become your favourite day of the week.”

Then he’s gone.

This vampire speed is beginning to get on your nerves. How dare they always take advantage of this ability to flee at the most convenient times?

Though it’s not like you would’ve been able to muster a response anyway. Taehyung has a talent in extracting all function from your brain.

You enter Seokjin’s Feed room and slump against the door. Truly exhausted from the interaction with such an unpredictable, intoxicating being. You actually begin to miss the older vampire, the comfort and security he provides.

It is interesting, though, how Seokjin has chosen a whole wardrobe of clothes for you. He hadn’t been insistent on you wearing them, but it’s not like there has been any provided alternative to the white-pink paletted, almost lolita-styled outfits either. You pad over the closet and swing the doors wide open from the gold knob. Today you had picked one of the plainer, more neutral white dresses, devoid of any lace unlike almost every article of clothing in this wardrobe.

So Seokjin likes lace, huh?

You pull open the underwear drawer, hand running through the rows of neatly folded panties. You imagine how flustered he must have been while folding these, and smile to yourself. Your fingers encountered a larger piece of undergarment. Hooking it out, the fabric falls open, revealing an ivory lace bodysuit dangling from your finger.

Yet what makes your eyes bulge are the suspender straps that hang from the bottom.

Oh.

Why has he chosen…

Oh?

You feel a strange sense of perversion as you line it against your body and look into the mirror. Does he wish for you to wear this? Surely not the shy Seokjin you were speaking to?

But then you look around the room and notice a very blatant preference that he has. Gold-rimmed white bed frame, pink-accented white sheets, pearl-embellished white curtains. The entire room is washed over with a pure, almost infantile aesthetic.

And when it clicks in your head, you recognise how obviously this corresponds with and reflects Seokjin’s clean appearance and virtuous nature.

Hesitant, you shed your dress and try on the body suit. To your amazement, its sheer material fits you like a second skin, hugging your body at your hips and bosom espeically. You inhale in wonder at your own reflection, marvelling how good you look in this garment.

Never have you worn anything that has made you feel remotely as sensual, as titillating.

Your appearance is an oxymoron; you look so innocent with the little bows and floral web, yet so provocative with the neckline revealing your cleavage and ass completely exposed by the thong cutting. A wave of cold hits you, and your nipples respond.

The door behind you opens.

In the mirror, your eyes meet Seokjin’s as he immediately freezes at the sight of you, one foot stepped into the room. And for a horrifying moment, your heart plunging down to earth’s core, your reflections just stare at each other. Utterly mortified.

There’s a glint in his eyes that stirs something in your stomach.

“Shit!” You shriek when you regain your awareness of the situation. Seokjin swiftly slams the door shut as he exits the room, yelling a stuttering apology from outside. You quickly dig out a pale pink sweatshirt and matching joggers, the most concealing outfit you can find, and throw it over yourself.

Your face is burning. You don’t know how you can face him again after he’s seen you in that... that sheer lacy lingerie...

A knock sounds from the door, slow and hesitant. “Um, are you… dressed?” His voice wavers.

You wait a second to get yourself together before answering, “yes.”

When he enters this time, both your eyes are fixed on the wooden floor. Seokjin’s ears are bright red, almost as vibrant as his pursed lips. His own heart is hammering, the image of you dressed in that bodysuit refusing to leave his mind. He is scolding himself for even allowing such a thing to happen. Has he no manners? How could he just barge into a lady’s room like that unannounced?

Awkwardness brews between you two until he manages to gather his voice. “I’m truly so sorry, I didn’t mean to- I didn’t think you’d be-” His breath hitches. “I-I should have knocked. I’m sorry.”

You glance up at him, cheeks still aflame, to find him frowning at his feet, so clearly screaming at himself in his head. So you say, “It’s fine. It was an accident, you didn’t know.”

Sitting yourself onto the end of the bed, you watch him stay standing by the closed door, motionless still. There is now a tension in the air, like the wall of privacy that separates you two has been breached.

“Um… You don’t have to… stand all the way there, you know?” You say to him, hoping to ease his discomfort. Hell, he seems more uncomfortable than you do.

Seokjin looks up, nods nervously and sits a meter away from you on the bed. You almost see the clockworks ticking in his brain, trying to find the words to say to you to lessen the weird atmosphere.

“I didn’t expect you this soon.” You mutter, also trying to find a way to communicate that it’s okay.

“I washed up quickly.” The image of Seokjin doing the dishes in vampire speed in fear of Taehyung trying anything on you actually spreads your lips into a grin. Your unexpected amusement surprises him, and he finds himself smiling as well.

When you look at each other, the tension begins to ebb away, the both of you starting to find humour in this stupid situation. You heart warms, and you decide in this moment that, yes, you want to grow closer with Seokjin. You haven’t had any sort of companion in a while, your sister the only exception, and though you have gotten accustomed to the solidarity, you often find yourself craving for someone who understands you, who’s always there to talk to you.

And thus far he has been nothing if not open and honest with you. Answering your questions, helping you ease into this new life.

“I want to ask you about your sixth brother.”

Seokjin blinks at you. “Jungkook?”

“Ah right, that’s his name.” There are seven vampires in this house, yet you have only really encountered six of them. That time when you had first woken up on that bed, only six of them had fed on you. You thought you had seen someone lurking in the corner of the room, yet in your delirious overwhelmed state, you hadn’t paid much attention. You haven’t met him since. “Where is he? How come I haven’t seen him at all?”

The sigh you get in response percolates your intrigue. “Jungkook doesn’t feed.”

You think you’ve misheard him at first. “Sorry?”

“Jungkook doesn’t feed.” He states with such certitude. “He drinks from blood bags only. Sundays will be your day off; I don’t suppose you’ll see much of him even then, I guess you’d be able to do whatever you wish on his days.”

Your gratitude is overshadowed by your curiosity. Why would he, a vampire, choose to drink stale blood when there is a fresh option? “Wait, how come?”

Another one of those strained sighs, like he is frustrated with his brother for being this way, but not quite. “It… isn’t really my place to tell his story. He used to feed, but all you need to know is that now he doesn’t want to anymore.”

You take this as a sign to not prod on this matter anymore, you shall seek answers elsewhere at some point. But now you’re immensely interested. What kind of story is it that he isn’t permitted to tell?

“I understand.” You nod, feigning apathy.

He seems relieved by your reply, no longer having to tread carefully around a sensitive matter. But then you ask-

“What about you, Seokjin?” His name still feels foreign on your lips, the syllables not quite coming naturally to you yet. “We’ve spoken about all your brothers, so what about you?”

Taken aback by your forwardness, he stares at you slightly dumbfounded. “I… There’s nothing much about me.”

From his eyes, you see that he isn’t lying deliberately, yet you don’t believe him. He himself just doesn’t realise his own peculiarities perhaps.

“Oh? Surely there’s something.” You glance at the wide distance across the bed between where you are sitting. You want to inch closer, it feels odd to sit so far from someone you’re speaking to.

“I mean, I like to cook, to read, to keep the house in order I guess…” His eyes trail to his knees, returning to the bashful state he was in. You don’t expect too much. You’ve just met, he isn’t going to pour his heart out to you upon your request. If he had asked you the same question, you would’ve shrivelled up into a raisin and not be able to answer either.

You’ll go about it in a different way then.

“That’s fair. But I wonder why you haven’t fed on me yet.” You cringe at your own words because it almost sounds like you are asking him to. “Isn’t the whole point of… all of this... for you guys to feed on me?”

Again, he stares at you, perplexed and kind of surprised.

“I mean… I just- Wait why do you want me to feed on you?”

“I never said that.” It’s your turn to be ruffled, your voice comes out higher pitched than you would like. “I was just wondering, like, what is my purpose if you’re not going to do what you’re keeping me here for? I just don’t understand…”

You hope he doesn’t think you do want him to feed on you. Because you don’t. You don’t.

“I just…” He sighs again. Seokjin is apparently a sigher. “I try to keep feeding to the minimal.”

“Why?”

“I don’t like the idea of it.”

A vampire is telling you he doesn’t ‘like the idea of’ drinking blood, especially the celestial blood you possess. You would’ve scoffed if it were anyone else.

“You mean, like Jungkook?” You take greater care now as you speak, not wanting to prickle any nerve. His whole demeanour has softened, reduced even. When you lean closer, hovering over the space between you, he gets startled.

“Not really, well, kind of but…” You wait patiently for him to formulate his next words, pitying his difficulty in doing so. One second. Ten seconds. Twenty. “I just hate it.

“I’ve always hated it. I hate how I have to inflict pain onto someone in order to feel satiated. I hate how good I feel when drinking someone’s blood, so good that I can’t even register their cries for help. I hate the guilt afterwards that just festers in my mind the more I look at my Feed. Everything about it is so wrong. I still remember the first time I fed one someone, how I cried and hid for days afterwards at the beast I’ve become. The others can do it so easily, so remorselessly and naturally, and I wish I could be like them but I can’t. And the worst part of it is that I’m stuck with myself for eternity, with no escape from this never-ending thirst. I hate being a vampire.”

The weight of his words land blows in your heart. Never did you even remotely expect his underlying motive to be self-loathing, and now you see clearly from his perspective. You remember the guilt flashing in his eyes when they had all fed on you days ago. To have the necessity of living be everything that you stand against must be so agonising. When you look at him again, you see him through a different lense. You understand his reservations, his sighs and stutters.

You also note how he said ‘the beast I’ve become’. Become. They were once not vampires. And that makes it more tragic because you can imagine how he misses that life.

You don’t know what else to do other than to throw your arms around him. You have never been a person of much affection, especially after how the past few years have worn you down and stripped you of anyone dear. Yet at this moment, you can think of no better way you express your sympathy and rapport.

Seokjin tips back from the impact of your embrace, looks down at your face buried in his side. He’s frozen, shocked by your action, blushed from your touch.

“You don’t hurt me.” You pull away before he has the chance to hold you back, and his chest cinches at the missed opportunity. “I’ve been hurt before. You don’t hurt me.” His beautiful features contorts in confusion, nose scrunches.

Slowly, you bring your arm up towards him as you scoot to close the distance. “Here. Just feed.”

If there’s one vampire you’d willingly let feed on you, it is the one before you right now, who had broken down crying at his first taste of blood.

“N-No!” He looks at you, bewildered, yet still so so handsome.

“Even if you don’t, someone else will. Don’t starve yourself just to save me from the pain. I’m well-acquainted with it now, trust me.”

Seokjin glares at your wrist, at your silky untainted skin, scars hidden away and buried much deeper beneath the surface. Inhale, exhale. Contemplating. Fibre by fibre caving into his temptations. He knows he has to feed sooner or later. Maybe it’s best that it’s sooner, so his appetite is less severe and the damage he inflicts is kept to the minimal.

His delicate fingers come to support your hand as he brings it close to his nose and takes a long sniff. Eyes widening, he drops your arm in an instant.

“Come on, stop worrying.” You persist.

“No, it’s not that. Give me your other wrist, this one smells like Namjoon.” It’s your turn to stop breathing. Why did he have to say his name? Now you are reminded of the way he kissed you so desperately, and how your body sang in lust for him when that sireship formed despite the protest of your logic.

But at the same time, something in your core flutters at his comment. As if Seokjin had felt an ounce of territoriality, like he doesn’t want to touch anything that his brother has.

Wordlessly you pass him your right wrist. Your eyes meet as he opens his mouth, allowing his fangs to extend. Then the familiar blackness starts to overtake his irises, dark veins running around his eyes. “Look away.” Something in his voice cracks you heart, the shame.

“No. It’s okay, Seokjin.” With the hand that isn’t held in his, you carefully cup his face to face yours, thumb softly brushing the pulsing protrusions of vessels. The darkness in his eyes holds no true darkness at all though, you see through it. He can’t and won’t hurt you. There isn’t a single drop of fear inside you. Trust.

“I’m sorry.” And with that he sinks his teeth into you.

You brace yourself for the wrenching pain, yet in its place is a violent bloom of emotion. You feel. You feel so much. You feel everything he is feeling, the guilt, the disgust, the desire to be anything but what he is. You keep feeling and feeling.

Your mind feels as though it is melting into Seokjin’s, and your eyes shut from the violence of this godly force, attempting to make sense of it all. There is a roaring in your head yet the room is silent. The bond is forming, intangible molecule by intangible molecule. The pounding in your chest mirrors his own as he takes small suppressed gulps. His essence tickles your own, much like his tongue lapping your skin.

Why isn’t this hurting?

At this thought, you begin to feel a stinging at your wrist, as if the pain is slowly being summoned my your awareness. You try not to think about it, open your eyes and try to distract yourself with the pink tussocks of his hair that have somehow found its way through your fingers. You wonder if he’s feeling the same powerful binding as you are. The way he is hunched over your wrist right now, like a little timid kitten…

Then you notice that you legs are somehow over his lap. When did this happen? Yet you don’t move them off.

Your wrist is now starting to burn, the pain growing and growing by the second. But it is almost as if he could sense this because he pulls away at the right moment before it could hurt more.

He doesn’t look at you at first, turned away, the back of his hand dabbing at his mouth. When he does look at you, his eyes have returned to their human form, glassy warm brown, filled with the same turmoil that is tangling you. Lips tinted with your red.

You want to ask if the sire bond is always this violent, this overwhelming.

Instead you kiss him.

❦

@taexxxiiaa @serendipity-secrets @killcomet @askingtheimportantthingshere@blackpanther4550 @comingjimin @unatempesta-dipensieri @dapppphhhhh  @unatempesta-dipensieri @beach-bitch-bitch-beach @queerloser17 @linyi-lovbts @somewhereinthestarss @xxqueenwxtchxx @whitefeatheredwyvern @embrace-themagic @brokencrownqueen @i-dont-even-know-fck @bangtandimples @kalkeegan @beetaeass @confessionsofascientist @chimycthulhu @hisunshiine

❦

25/10/2019

Is this a by-product of your latest encounter with Namjoon?  Probably not. You remember sometimes feeling this way when you used to live alone in your own apartment; getting jumpy for absolutely no reason at all in the absence of company.  It’s a little sad, actually, now that you think about it - especially with how often that used to be the case.

“Hello, hello!” Hoseok’s cheerful voice makes you jump so violently your feet very nearly leave the floor as he comes blustering into the kitchen.  He barely spares you a glance as he crosses the room, fiddling with the knot of the tie that’s looped around his neck as he goes. “Smells good,” he comments as the microwave beeps and makes you jump again, your nails very nearly embedding into the countertop as you try to steady yourself and calm the furious beating of your heart.  

“W-what are you doing up?” you ask, watching on in confusion as Hoseok’s head disappears inside the cupboard he’s just pulled open. His head twists side to side as he checks every nook and cranny, tutting loudly in displeasure as he reemerges.  

“I’m after some dutch courage,” he explains as he goes to the cupboard next door and repeats the process all over again only to come up once more empty-handed.  “Seen any?”

“Pretty sure Jin drank it all the other night.”  You remove your breakfast-slash-dinner from the microwave, stirring until all of the rice is thoroughly coated in sauce.  

“So I heard,” Hoseok comments, and you’d think it was a perfectly innocent response if it weren’t for the teasing lilt to his tone and the crook of his eyebrow once you look up and meet his gaze, pausing with the spoon halfway towards your mouth.  

You know by now it’s impossible to keep secrets in this house.  Taehyung and Jungkook are probably well aware of it too, knowing your luck, so you can only hope that the youngest vampire won’t take it too personally that you ended up sleeping with his elder less than an hour after you turned him down.  

Rather than take the bait, you chose to rise above it, widening your eyes innocently as you take your first bite and begin to chew.  His grin widens, pearly white teeth on display.

“You’re a bit dressed up for a Monday night,” you observe around your mouthful, leaning back against the counter as Hoseok continues his search, sighing every time he comes up empty.  “What’s the occasion?”

“Sam’s parents invited us to dinner tonight.”

Ah.  Suddenly Hoseok’s quest for alcohol makes perfect sense.  

As soon as you’ve finished your mouthful you’re whistling through your teeth, suitably impressed.  

“Getting kinda serious, huh?”  He turns back to you with a smile that looks like it contains an awful lot of jaw clenching, stifling a laugh at the thinly veiled terror you can see in his eyes.  “You’ll be fine, Hobi,” you assure him nonchalantly, waving your empty fork around, “Her parents are like the nicest people in the world. They’ll love you.”

“Fingers crossed,” he says, literally holding up both hands and crossing his fingers for extra luck before returning his attention to his tie, pulling the knot undone to begin retying it all over again, eyebrows furrowed.  

“How’re you avoiding the whole eating thing, anyway?”  Hoseok glances up, tongue poking at the corner of his mouth in concentration.  

“Sam made up some rare metabolic disorder or something,” he murmurs distractedly. “I’ll just say I’ve eaten before we got there.”  

“Perks of dating a nurse, hm?”

“Don’t forget the uniform,” Hoseok replies without missing a beat, looking up at you from under his wiggling eyebrows.  He earns himself another eye roll as you make further headway with your meal, already nearing full.

A natural lull in the conversation falls when you fail to dignify his statement with a response, chewing slowly as you absentmindedly watch Hoseok continue in his quest to achieve the perfect knot.   It takes him two or three more tries but he gets there, in the end.

Smoothing it out to lay flat against his shirt, his expression turns suddenly serious.  

“You seemed a little jumpy earlier,” he observes, “Everything ok?”  You stop mid-chew, resting your fork against the edge of your bowl.

Had you really been that obvious?  You’d thought he’d been far too preoccupied in his search for liquor to notice the way you’d jumped out of your skin at his arrival.  

“I’m just a scaredy-cat,” you dismiss, smiling as you shrug and look down at your half-eaten meal.  “That’s all.” The next time you look up Hoseok is still regarding you searchingly, his head tilted slightly to the side.  

“You sure?” he persists, his eyes narrowing just a margin.  

Hesitating, the pace at which you chew slows.  Should you tell him about what happened the other night?  Perhaps you should. Perhaps if you share your anxieties with someone it might help lessen them, and even if you do confess to Hoseok that doesn’t mean he has to go telling anyone else about it, right?  Not if everything’s ok…

You finish your mouthful and turn to the sink, giving yourself time to prepare a reply as you swill your bowl with water and then gently place it down, fork clinking against the side.  

“Namjoon came to the bar.”  You turn around just in time to see Hoseok’s eyes widen at your statement.  

“When?” he questions immediately, taking a step forward towards you.  

“The last time you were with me.”  The delayed guilt for not having told him before hits you instantly when you see how confused and hurt Hoseok’s expression suddenly becomes, his mouth opening soundlessly and his eyebrows furrowing deep.

“Why didn’t you tell me...?”  You fold your arms across your chest as you glance away, his accusatory tone making you feel a little defensive even though deep down you know you have no right to be.  

“Because he didn’t really do anything,” you explain, “And I just… didn’t want anyone to worry.”  Hoseok visibly deflates when you say that, his features softening as he sighs your name and crosses the space between you, wrapping his arms around your shoulders and pulling you into a tight embrace.  

“It’s our job to worry,” he tells you gently after having placed a kiss against your temple, his lips skimming your forehead as he speaks.  You unfold your arms and place them around Hoseok’s hips instead, squeezing him back. His cologne smells nice; light and fruity. “Did he speak to you?”  

“He tried to,” your murmur back into his shoulder, enjoying the affectionate touch of his hand cradling the back of your head, long fingers trailing through your hair.  “But Alex saw him bothering me and made him leave.”

“Good.”  Hoseok pulls back enough to look at you but leaves his hands on your shoulders, studying your face as he asks, “What did he say?”  

“He said I need to leave the manor and stay with him.” You worry your lip with your teeth.  “That I’m not safe.” The pretty vampire before you frowns hard, his grip on your shoulders tightening.

“A threat?”

“I don’t think so,” you say, shaking your head.  “It didn’t really feel that way, at least. I’m not sure.”

“Hm.”  Hoseok falls silent for a moment, and though he’s looking at your face it doesn’t seem like he’s really seeing you; the cogs in his mind turning.  “Have you seen him again since?”

“No,” you answer quickly.  Hoseok’s mouth opens, but before he has the chance to say anything you jump in, tugging lightly on his suit jacket.  “Please don’t go telling the others. They’ll only go worrying over nothing-”

“I wouldn’t say it’s nothing.”

“-Ok but… just please don’t.  If he turns up again then sure, ok but… for now, can we please just keep this between us Hobi?” you plead, giving your best puppy dog impression.  “And I don’t want to quit, either.” He regards you sceptically and takes his hands off of your shoulders, running one of them through his hair instead as he takes a step back, sighing again.

“I’m not sure that’s such a good idea,” he worries with a shake of his head.  “It might be best for you to just-”

“-I promise I’ll tell you straight away if it ever happens again.  And I’ll leave, no arguments.” You watch the uncertainty play on Hoseok’s face as he takes in your hopeful expression and your hands clasped in front of your chest like a prayer.  “Please, Hobi. I promise I will.”

Another beat passes, but when Hoseok’s eyes dropped to the floor and a smile starts to tug at the corners of his lips you know you’ve already won, an answering grin appearing on your face, too.  

“You do realise Jimin will kill me if anything happens to you, don’t you?”  

“I know,” you nod, “But nothing’s going to happen - not with you guys watching out for me.”  Hoseok smiles sweetly, taking the hand that you offer out to him and pulling you close again, his slender arm settling around your waist as he brushes a kiss against the corner of your mouth that makes your heart flutter wildly.  

“It had better not.”  You place two kisses of your own to his cheek - one quick and one that lingers - and you feel Hoseok sigh quietly against you before once more releasing his hold, smiling as he steps away and unlinks your fingers.  

“Good luck tonight,” you tell him, and all of a sudden it’s like Hoseok remembers that there’s somewhere he’s supposed to be, pushing back his sleeve to check the time on his expensive-looking wristwatch and grimacing at what he sees.  

“Shit, I’m supposed to be at Sam’s in ten.”  He gives you an apologetic grin as he straightens out his sleeves, brushing down the length of each arm.  

“Give her a kiss for me.”

“I will,” he promises on the way to the door, pausing when he reaches it to turn back.  “Keep out of trouble, ok?” he adds in a more serious tone, pointing a finger at you.

“Only if you do,” you joke and at that Hoseok chuckles, throwing you a roguish wink.

“Don’t I always?”

 ***

Jimin is far more awake than when you left him on your return, though you can’t quite say the same for Yoongi.  The elder vampire seems to be fighting to remain asleep as he snuggles face first into the younger’s bare chest emitting a low grumbling noise of protest that is far more adorable than he would probably care to realise.  Jimin gets it, though; adoration in his eyes as he curls his arm around Yoongi’s shoulders and pulls him even closer.

“Morning kitten,” he greets on your way back to bed, his usually soft voice still hoarse from sleep.  “Where’ve you been wondering off to so early?”

“Breakfast.”  You shed your sweats at the edge of the bed and then pull back the covers, eager to slip into the space that Jimin’s made for you on his other side, his arm extended out in welcome.  He kisses the top of your head as you settle in, exhaling a contented sigh. Glancing down you see that Yoongi seems to have fallen back to sleep for now, his cheek rested on Jimin’s stomach and mouth hanging just ever so slightly ajar.  “Ran into Hobi.”

“Bit early for him,” Jimin comments and you ‘hmm’ in reply, closing your eyes.  His body is warmer than usual thanks to having been snuggled up in bed for so long and it makes his natural scent all the more intoxicating, luring you in to press your face into the curve of his neck, snuggling in as close as you possibly can.  

“He’s meeting the in-laws tonight.”  You hear Jimin chuckle breathily.

“Poor guy.”

“Nah,” you yawn, “They’re good people.  He’ll be fine.” Your lover makes a non-committal noise as he noses through your hair, his fingertips trailing up and down Yoong’s back as far as he can reach.  

The two of you fall silent for a little while, joining Yoongi in that space somewhere between wakefulness and sleep as you relish in the closeness you share.  You really don’t expect the question that Jimin suddenly asks you a few minutes later, half wondering if you’d dreamt it.

“Kitten?” he prompts.  “Do you miss them?”

You open your eyes, staring absently at the top of Yoongi’s head as you mull over Jimin’s question in search of a response.

Do you miss your parents?  That’s not exactly the simplest of questions to answer.  

“Sometimes...  but no more now than I ever did before living with you,” you say slowly.  “We weren’t close... I’d moved out as soon as I could and after that we never spoke much, so I guess it doesn’t make much difference whether I’m living here or there.”   You feel one of Jimin’s hands stroke over the back of your hair, comforting.

“Do they live far?” Jimin asks quietly and in the crook of his neck, you shake your head.

“Only over the other side of town.”

“I’d like to see, y’know,” he says after a moment, “Where you grew up.”  You shuffle back a little, tilting your head up to look into the dark brown of Jimin’s eyes.  

“Yeah?”  They crease at the corners as he smiles.  

“Yeah.  Where you studied…. Where you had your first kiss, first date.  All the important stuff.” You laugh lightly and then lean in to brush a swift kiss against Jimin’s lips, your heart swelling with affection.  

“I guess I could show you around my old neighbourhood if you really wanted?”  

“As long as we don’t have to meet the in-laws as well,” Yoongi suddenly butts in from further south, his voice gravelly fro only just having woken up.  Looking down, you see the elder vampire prying his body off of Jimin’s with what looks like a great amount of effort, groaning all the way. He rolls onto his side, propping himself up on one bent elbow whilst the other hand busies itself pushing unruly black hair off of his forehead.  

“I think they’d have a big enough heart attack if I turned up with one boyfriend, never mind two,” you laugh.  Your joke earns you Yoongi’s first smile of the day, the pink of his gums showing as he chuckles.  Honestly, it’s not fair how he manages to look so endearing even whilst sleep-disheveled. “Morning.”  

“Morning,” he croaks back.  The two of you leaning across Jimin’s chest to press lips before he and Jimin greet each other in a similar fashion.  They exchange a kiss and then Yoongi returns to reclining comfortably at the younger vampire’s side, his hand splayed out across Jimin’s abdominals, stroking absentmindedly.  

“Do you have work?”  Jimin asks. You shake your head.  “Then we can go tonight if you like.”   

“N-now?” You blink owlishly; caught off guard.  You’d expected at least a little time to prepare yourself, yet know that you think about it perhaps it’d be better to get it done with sooner rather than later.  At least this way you won’t have time to work yourself up over the prospect of running into any unwanted faces.

“No time like the present,” Yoongi muses as he gets up; a little rich coming from someone who was still fast asleep just a minute ago.

“No,” you reluctantly agree as you follow suit, climbing out of bed after Jimin.  “I guess not.”

 ***

“You know, one of these days you should really learn to drive,” Jimin comments from where he’s sat in the driver’s seat, his one hand on the gear stick and the other on the wheel - his eyes fixed firmly on the road.  

The three of you had made idle chit chat as you’d travelled through the fields surrounding the manor, passing through the bustling city centre and back out again into the suburbs which surround you now, and you’re glad for the distraction their conversation has provided as you draw closer to the places of your childhood.  

“Can it just wait until after I’m a vampire?” you ask, all too aware of the slight whine you can hear in your tone.  Sat on his lap in the passenger seat, you feel Yoongi’s chest rumble as he chuckles at your back, tightening his arms around your form in place of the seat belt you should be wearing (he’d insisted he’d be able to keep you far safer in the event of a crash than any man-made safety device, and you were far too taken with the idea of sitting on his knee to argue the point).  “It should be easy then, right? With all the lightning-fast reflexes and what-not?”

“Yeah, but that’s cheating,” Jimin laughs, glancing sideways at you.

“It’s not cheating,” Yoongi disagrees in your defence, “It’d be just be making the most of a natural advantage.”

“You would say that, hyung,” the silver-haired vampire scoffs.  

“I’m not sure I appreciate what you’re implying, Jimin,” his counterpart rebuffs, and though you know he’s doing his best to sound put out you can still hear the smile that’s in Yoongi’s voice as he speaks.  “And anyway, it’d only be the same as Taehyungie. If that kid hadn’t have been turned then he never would’ve passed at all.” Jimin laughs once more, his eyes almost entirely closed with the force of his amusement. To be honest, you’re not sure how he’s even able to see the road at all when he’s smiling so hard.  

“Alright, fair point,” Jimin admits, and for the few minutes after that follow you think that the matter has been settled until he speaks again, forever persistent.  “I still you ought to give it a try now, though. I mean, who knows how long it’s gonna be before-”

You’re not really paying attention anymore.  The gaze of your eyes has been stolen through the window, passing from right to left over and over again as you take in the scenery that passes you by.  It’s familiar and yet somehow different all at the same time; every tree lining either side of the road just as tall; every garden fenced and gated just as they were when you left.  The paint has started to peel on some, though, and some are an entirely different colour to what you remember them being.

You’re nearing your school now.  You know because the route that Jimin’s driving is the one that you used to walk to and from Sam’s house after class whenever going back to your own was too unappealing.  

“It’s just round here, to the right,” you announce, interrupting whatever playful to and fro had been going on between the two of them.  Nodding his head, Jimin re-focuses his attention and heeds your every direction through the twists and turns in the road that follow until a familiar bricked building comes into view on the horizon.  Slowing down to a crawl, Jimin pulls up along the curb just in front of the school gates - locked up tight for the night.

“Here it is,” you announce as Jimin lowers the passenger window so you can all get a better look, Yoongi flinching behind you as droplets of rain start to land on the matte black interior of the car.  

The school of your memory is a little different to the one that lays within the surrounding iron fence that semi-blocks your view; the building greyer and somehow smaller than it ever was before.  Perhaps it’s the drab weather that’s making it seem so but you could’ve sworn the lawns were more colourful back in your childhood, dulled now by the passage of time.

“Your high school?” Jimin asks curiously, leaning so far forward over the steering wheel to gaze through the windshield that his bottom lifts from the seat.

“Yeah.  My elementary is just around the corner from here.”  

“Looks smaller than mine,” Yoongi observes, his fingers playing absentmindedly with the hem of the sweater you’re wearing.

“Probably is,” you admit, “It’s one of the smallest around here.  Mum thought it’d help keep me out of trouble.” And it did, you suppose - though you can’t say the same for Sam.  She probably would’ve gotten into mischief wherever her parents had sent her.

“Were you a good student?” Jimin asks as he plops back into his seat, his lips curved into an attractive smile as he twists to see you better.  

“I was decidedly average,” you say with a shrug, “Not the best but certainly not the worst.”  Much to your mother’s dismay. She’d probably thought that restricting your social life would help improve your grades but it’d had no such effect - you’d always been more of a jack of all trades rather than somehow who excelled at any particular subject.  “What about you two?”

“Jimin was class president and valedictorian,” Yoongi informs you with a smirk before the younger vampire has even had the chance to speak.  “For nine years.”  Godsmacked, your head turns rapidly from Yoongi and back to Jimin who’s sat reclining in his seat and looking a little smug, truth be told.  

“Seriously?”

“Seriously,” he confirms with a short nod of his head.  You’d expected Jimin to be fairly popular in high school because… well… with looks like his, how could he not be?  The news that he had both the beauty and the brains, however, takes you by surprise.  

“I never had you pegged as the academic type.”  Jimin looks mildly offended, high voice climbing in pitch as he dramatically exclaims,

“Hey!  I read!”  

“Yeah, I hear comic books have gotten real educational these days,” Yoongi teases in that deadpan way of his, the narrowing of Jimin’s eyes only causing his smirk to grow in response.  Afraid that Jimin might lean over and wallop Yoongi if he decides to carry on, you quickly deflect away from the subject at hand.

“How about you?”  Yoongi scoffs at your question, glancing briefly out of the window at the sound of a dog barking somewhere further down the street before choosing to answer.  

“I was what you might refer to as a ‘selective learner.’”  

“Meaning…?”

“Meaning I turned up to the lessons I was interested in and skipped the others,” he chuckles, a fond look in his eyes as he continues to recall.  “There was a really nice spot right at the back of the library I used to go catch up on my sleep, right by the anatomy and physiology section.”

“You know I actually heard about you?” Jimin says suddenly, disturbing Yoongi’s brief period of reminiscing.  At your confused look, he goes on to explain. “We went to separate schools but this guy’s reputation preceded him all over.”  

“It did?” Yoongi asks, his expression genuinely surprised on hearing this information.  

“Yeah,” Jimin laughs, passing his hand through his hair to shift it out of his eyes.  “The girls were all mad for the whole quiet, brooding thing you’d got going on. Everyone figured you must be the son of a big CEO or something to get away with ditching so often.”  

It’s not very often that you hear Yoongi full on belly-laugh but that’s exactly what happens when Jimin says that, his fangs on full display where they protrude from his pink gums.  

“I think it was more a case of my teachers knowing a lost cause when they saw one,” he says as his laughter begins to subside and you tut, tapping him lightly on the chest for daring to speak so poorly of himself.  “It’s true,” Yoongi persists. He takes a hold of your wrist and lifts your palm to his lips, kissing it. “I was diagnosed early - long before I had any symptoms. They probably just didn’t want to give me a hard time for what little time I had.”  

“Maybe.”  You suppose it would make sense, however depressing a theory it may be. Why force a student to study things they don’t care about when you know they’ll never get a chance to apply any of that knowledge in the future anyway?  

The mood seems to dip a little then, all three of your falling silent with nothing but the radio singing quietly to itself to fill the void.  It’s not uncomfortable - you’re too close for that - but there’s a weight to the air that makes your heart feel heavy. It doesn’t make sense to mourn their deaths now that they’ve been given all the time in the world to spare, yet you still can’t help but feel bad for all the pain they had to live through.  

“So your parent’s house is near here?”

“Yeah, just five or ten minutes drive,” you answer quickly, eager for the distraction that Jimin’s question provides regardless of however uncomfortable the topic of your parents might be.  

“Wanna go take a look?” he asks, his tone gentle enough that even though his question makes you hesitate you don’t feel pressured to answer right away, reassured by the slow curling of Yoongi’s arms around your waist and the feel of his chin settling atop your shoulder.  

Honestly, you’re torn.  Whilst it has been a long time and you wouldn’t mind finding out how they’re doing - albeit from afar - the thought of them inadvertently spotting you has your stomach twisting unpleasantly with nerves and swirling with indecision.  

“I guess… if you want to,” you say eventually and at that Jimin nods, turning on the engine and the windshield wipers before pulling away from the curb.  

You remember the way home easily even with how thick and fast the rain has begun to fall, limiting your vision to only six of seven metres ahead.  It doesn’t take long for you to arrive on your street, and with a tight throat and quiet voice you ask Jimin to pull over in front of the house that sits next door to your parents’ rather than right in front so as to make your loitering less obvious.  

Your old home - unlike your school - looks exactly as you remember it.  The hedges are just as tall and the lawn as neatly trimmed, and just as expected at nine on a weekday evening, the only light still turned on is the one that belongs to your parent’s bedroom on the second floor.  They always did like to retire to bed early; your mum to read and your dad to snooze the evening away.

“It’s exactly what I expected,” Yoongi comments from behind you and when you turn your head to fix him with a questioning look he smiles.  “It’s so… quaint. All it’s missing is the white picket fence.”

“We were hardly the brady bunch.”  

“Still,” Jimin chimes in, “It looks nice.”  

“It was, most of the time.”  Certainly when you were younger, anyway.  Back when you were less likely to rock the boat or argue back.  “We-”

The sudden appearance of your father in the bedroom window halts whatever it was you were planning on saying - wiping the words completely from your mind.  With the curtains open and the lights on, he’s easily seen from where you’re sat in the darkness outside; dressed from head to toe in plaid pyjamas you still recognise from years gone by, surely fraying at the edges by now.  He looks as though his hair has greyed a little more at the sides since your last saw him, too, the circles under his eyes just a little bit darker.

“Your dad?” Yoongi asks cautiously, the gentle up and down motion of his hand along your arm soothing and kind.  

“Uh-huh… y-yeah.”  You struggle to answer - sniffling as you reply - and it’s as you force out a response that you realise the tears you’ve been holding back ever since you pulled up outside now falling, trickling unwantedly from each of your eyes.  You’re not even sure why you’re crying, just that you can’t seem to make the tears stop.

“Hey,” Jimin hushes, leaning across the centre console of the car and taking your hands in one of his, cupping your cheek in his other.  “It’s alright, it’s ok.”

“I know,” you choke out, but when the curtains to your parent's bedroom close and your dad disappears from sight you only cry harder.  “I d-don’t even know why I’m so-oh up-upset.”

“That’s alright, you don’t need a reason,” Yoongi murmurs softly as he places a kiss amongst your hair.  Together, your lovers comfort you as you cry, wiping your tears with calm and loving words till you’re able to stem the tide and sniffle away your runny nose, half-crying and half-laughing with embarrassment over your unexpectedly emotional outburst.

“I guess… I guess it just hit me that I might never see them again,” you explain, wiping your tear-stains away with sleeves of your sweater, “And I know it’s not like we’ve ever been close but they’re still family and once I… once I’m like you… then it’ll be like I’ve not got any family at all.”  Saying it out loud makes you very nearly start crying again and you press your lips together to keep it from happening, looking down at your lap.

“Gongjunim,” Yoongi says, his voice kind yet firm all at once as the tip of his finger presses to the underneath of your chin.  He lifts your face and tilts it so you’re forced to look at him, his dark eyes soft and full of love as he regards you.  “You know that’s not true. Me and Jimin-” You glance at the younger vampire whose hand is rested on your knee, head nodding along. “-Everyone one of us.  We’re all your family now.”

“You are?” You hear Jimin laugh quietly beside you and when he leans over to softly kiss your cheek your eyes fall closed, your insides filling with warmth.  

“Of course,” Jimin assures you, and when you open your eyes and look back at him you see nothing but sincerity shining back at you - not from just Jimin, but from Yoongi too.  

Pulling you back into the centre of his lap, Yoongi nuzzles his face against the back of your neck, breath cold as he mumbles,