#haliiimede writes

[sailoryooons]

Carved | Four | jjk (m)

→ Summary: Hundreds of years after the Underworld wins the war, Vaesen - demon kind - rule the Realms. The Vanir - creatures of light and the Heavens - are hunted and enslaved by Vaesen. When the demon prince Jungkook is given one of the Carved - angels who have been stripped of their wings - he has no idea what to do with you. You, however, have plans you are determined to see through. Even if it means death in the end.

→ Pairing: demon!Jungkook x angel!female reader

→ Rating: NSFW & 18+ Minors are strictly prohibited from engaging with this content. Any minors discovered interacting with adult content will be blocked immediately.

→ Type: Series

→ Genre: dystopian, urban fantasy, enemies to lovers, angst

→ Pairing: 8,254

→ Warnings: Graphic depiction of violence and fighting, graphic depiction of death and gore, depictions of death (including, but not describing the death of a child and family members), semi-complex fight scenes, mentions of manipulation and power imbalance, reader purposefully seducing Jungkook to get what she wants, mentions of something similar to subspace and reader taking advance of Jungkook in a subspace like state mentally, explicit language, power imbalances and mentions of enslaved creatures, Jungkook and reader get a little violent with one another but like.. in a pleasure able way so here we go for the sexually explicit warnings, reader goading Jungkook, unprotected vaginal sex, fingering, Jungkook kinda gets right too it, rough, slapping and biting, Jungkook being pretty rough and slamming reader around and shoving her into things, vulnerable mental states and manipulation, mild dirty talk tbh this sex scene is incredibly mild in terms of what I usually do, ummm I don't know guys it's a dark urban fantasy with weird shit, unedited should be a warning because I did a grammarly check and nothing else oops. ALSO PLS KEEP IN MIND THIS SEX SCENE IS BLAND BECAUSE OF THE SPECIFIC SCENARIO THEY ARE IN. I ASSURE YOU MUCH MORE DETAILED AND EXPLICIT SMUT IS IN THE FUTURE, BUT IT WASNT THE VIBE HERE

→ Main Masterlist: here

→ Series Masterlist: here

→ faq 

A/N: IT'S FINALLY HERE. Sorry this was so delayed. I was dealing with writers block pretty severely, work has been really crazy and demanding, I've been really tired and also my mentally manipulative ex-boyfriend decided to unalive himself so that was a weird week, I was trying to find new apartments and yeah this chapter has been re-written at least 5 times. Also I apologize I said fuck it we ball and this is absolutely only edited with a grammarly check. I will edit in full tomorrow but I do not have the brain capacity to do it right now, she is Tapped Out but I promised I would post this mf chapter tonight. Does any one have any theories as to what's going on yet teehee.

©2022 haliiimede. all rights reserved. Reposting and/or translating is not allowed, even if you credit the story. Works are only crossposted on AO3. Find my AO3 here.

Disclaimer: All members of BTS are faces and name claims for this story. This is entirely a work of fiction and by no means is meant to be a projection, judgement or representation of real life people. Any scenarios or representations of the people and places mentioned in works are not representative of real life scenarios. Moreover, none of my works accurately reflect, represent or take a stance on the nuances of Korean culture, cities, people etc. BTS is not BTS culturally, intellectually, physically or representationally in my stories, and should be considered name and face stand-ins for made up characters.

/ PREVIOUS / NEXT CHAPTER /

Screams split the air. For a second, you hesitate, turning to the source of the chaos. It erupts beyond the door, startling several Vaesen inside of the room. You react first, shooting toward the door with Taehyung and Jungkook on your heels.

The sound that greets you is a symphony of shattering glass, surprised screams and varying degrees of carnage. A table flips in front of you as you enter the main ballroom. You sidestep it easily as it fractures against Taehyung, who hardly flinches before vanishing into the surging crowd of running and swarming Vaesen and Vanir.

With careful movements, you slid out of your heels, feet pressing against broken glass. It doesn’t bite or cut your skin – only real weapons can do that – but it’s uncomfortable as you take a defensive stance, aware how vulnerable you are in a tiny, sheer dress and no weapon.

Blood-slicked floors greet you. The screams of the Vaesen make your lips twitch upward slightly. Chaos has erupted in a tableau of overturned tables, shattered champagne glasses, pearl-draped demons hiding behind fractured, round tables, and a dark, wet hissing sound.

Whatever creatures have entered the room smell wrong, like honey gone sour or sweet cream curdled. Your eyes sweep the painting of chaos before you.

And then you see them.

Your heart stills for one painfully long second, stretched like skin pulled too tight over bone. They’re… seraphim but not.

The creatures have dark, pitted eyes with black veins rippling over sallow skin. They’re naked and feature no distinct gender, appearing stitched together. Their ribs are prominent and you’re unsure if it’s by design or emaciation. There are mismatched wings on their bodies, opening and closing uncontrollably at awkward intervals and angles like they don’t know how to use them - or maybe can’t.

A creature lets out a screech and cuts a vampire lord in half, blood spraying the wall like watercolor on canvas. There is a dozen of them, and they all have swords, crudely shaped but you can almost taste the adamas in the swords.

Fucking hells. They have swords of Heaven.

Jungkook appears at your side, dark eyes scanning the room as the Not-Seraphim spread throughout, cutting through screaming party goers who are unarmed beyond their own fangs and teeth. You can scent gore in the air and your blood hums: it smells like a killing pitch.

“Reaper.” Jungkook says the name like a command. The name is both yours and not yours. It is one of many names. One of many people you are. His voice slithers down your back, eliciting a shiver. He holds out a dagger. Reaper is the person Jungkook needs you to be. “Find my niece.”

You take the dagger and come alive. The hellstone throbs in your hand, metal carved from the deepest pits of the underworld and forged in hellfire. You tighten your grip and move forward.

One step and you’re in front of one of the Not Angels. It cocks it’s head and pauses, a series of clicks slipping through black, jagged teeth and a weeping mouth.  

A second step and death follows you.

Flesh burns. It singes your nose, something like spoiled flesh and rotten eggs. You can taste the sulfur as the creature wilts to the floor, body still twitching after decapitation. You bend over, snatching up the poorly made sword. It’s sharp enough, but the handle is crude and the blade is splotchy, mixed with many metals.

It hums in your hand, a pulse of power crawling through your palm and fingers like an electric current. You recognize the feel of adamas, a metal only found in Heaven realms deep in cloud-ringed mountains. For a moment your mind drifts, suspended between memory and imagination. You can almost see it: tangerine pink skies, the smell of orange blossoms, wind that is neither cold nor warm.

A creature lunges at you and the dream melts away. You duck under the blow, striking out with the dagger. It plunges to the hilt, a wet crack sounding as you puncture its ribcage. It screams and spittle flies. It doesn’t react to the knife, clawing toward you and opening a split maw of blood and black.

Cringing backward, you push with the dagger, shoving the creature away to provide space for the swing of your sword. The head severs, hitting the ground with a thud before rolling away. The body jerks, remaining vertical for a moment. Ripping your knife out, you send the lifeless body to the ground where it remains dead.

Interesting.

Another creature replaces the felled one, no weapon in hand but claws raking out at you. You shuffle backward, ducking away from the swiping talons. The creature flaps its wings once – the only one with functional wings, it seems – and surges forward, catching you off guard.

It knocks into you with the weight of a brick wall. The air leaves your lungs and you go down with the creature, it’s talons catching the flesh on your right bicep. You scream at the burn and fuck it burns. You look at where your skin burns black and wilted in three, jagged lines.

A blue-sparked flame catches your attention on the creature’s hands as it gnashes at you. You grab it around the throat, keeping razor teeth away from your face as drool and something else drips on your face. Your eyes zero in on the flame that comes and goes like it can’t control the heat on the tips of its fingers.

Hellfire, you realize.

Your mind expands, a searching radar for Jungkook. You sense him immediately, his mind like mist and rain tinged with hatred. His emotions are in turmoil, a churning storm of icy rain that bites into your thoughts and razor-sharp wind. There is a sense of no control, Jungkook’s churning storm ripping through his energies with something like feral-laced panic on the edges.

Jungkook, you call to him, feeding him your emotions as you shove back at the gnashing teeth of the creature pinning you down. He ignores you, his storm too volatile to sense you. You push harder, imagining that you’re brushing cool water down the bridge of your connection.

Jungkook flinches when he feels you. The storm pauses, like passing into the eye as the chaos settles around him. You use the opportunity to speak again. They can use Hellfire.

It takes a moment for him to respond. Understood.

Pulling away from the connection, you keep your minds tethered. The crackling energy and harsh storm stirs again when you pull from his mind, but it’s not as out of control as before, the thread between you an anchor as he refocuses on his own task.

Lightning crackles under your fingers as you shove with your hand, putting all your force into where you push back on the monster above you. The creature topples backward as you roll to your feet, movement fluid. Your dress is ripping near the throat, threatening to tear. You curse, begging the fabric to stay on a little longer.

You have no intention of fighting while spilling out of your dress.

Electricity charges in the room. Unchoked, you feel the thunder of your power looming on the horizon. Every time you call the lightning to you feels like a rush of adrenaline, the sparks dancing along every nerve of your body, lighting you up from the inside out.

This is your power. There is a moment where you consider letting it all go. You could supernova right where you stand, destroying everything within several miles. You know you have the capability – it's something you’ve dreamed of doing for years.

But it’s just a dream, and your dreams do not align with your goal.

Reigning in the urge to destroy destroy destroy, you instead focus the lightning on the creatures closest to you. The bolts let out a loud crack as you direct the energy to your targets. There is a flash and the smell of burnt skin and corpse, but you ignore it, pushing toward a forming group in the corner of the ballroom.

There is a concentration of fighting Vaesen, screaming and creatures near where you remember seeing Jungkook’s niece last. A body topples in front of you, and you step over it- later you will remember that it was a collared Vanir, naked and still tied to a chair on its leash.

You see Jihoon– he's covered in something black and slick, kicking out at one of the creatures. He has a single dagger in his hand, a retinue of guards dead at his feet, and you can hear the high-pitched scream of his daughter behind him. A single step in their direction is blocked by more creatures, hissing and clicking at you.

Jungkook appears at your side, covered in gore. His hands are black to the wrist, dripping in... something. You realize he’s fighting without a weapon.

“Are you ripping through them?”

“I gave you my knife,” he snaps. His mind brushes against yours, a torrent of chaos and loud noises and anger so hot you waver. You toss the dagger to him, spinning your new sword in your hand. “I think beheading them is the only thing that works.”

“Yeah, I discovered that thanks.”

A vampire gets turned to mist and splatter in front of you. You feel the hot blood hit your face. It smells metallic and like Synth from his last meal.

“Can you-”

You see it in his mind. The lightning that you can summon to destroy worlds. You nod once, summing the crackling energy inside of you.

A high-pitched scream interrupts you. Your eyes zero in on Kita, hiding under a table as her mother pulls the girl tight against her chest, baring her teeth. There's a red aura around her as she snaps her teeth at one of the creatures, a red arch of fire snapping out.

Fox fire.

Kita tries to imitate her mother, crying through barred teeth and a tiny flicker of flame humming around her. There are creatures closing in and you feel the snap of your power, targeting the creatures in a large area.

Power ripples in the room. You feel the urge to kill kill kill again. To destroy. To light the entire room up and burn it all down. You’ve done it before. You know the taste and smell of annihilation. You know the feeling of death brushing past you as he collects his dead.

The crack of a whip. A scream of agony. Blood in your mouth your hands your ears your neck, your arms-

You push away the desire to rebel. It burns bright, a hot coal ready to catch fire but you smother it. Pretend it isn’t there.

Rising up at the wrong time does nothing. Freeing yourself a long game. Giving in to your rage means failure, and you have failed and failed and failed and failed and -

The room flashes bright. Colors dance behind your eyes as you let go of the power. For a moment, everything is silent. The world is warped, the sulfur air charged with electricity. You feel the static tickle the nap of your neck, your arms, your mind.

You look around. There are no more creatures standing, black wisps of smoke curling toward a scorched ceiling. Dust motes float down. You stick out a hand, finger pointed as one lands on your finger. You realize it’s soot, the leftovers from the creatures you’ve thoroughly crisped.

Around the room, life – or what’s left of it – begins to stir. Glass crunches beneath feet and the sound of tables being righted sounds booming in the silence of destruction.

Jungkook and Ji-Hoon are on their knees, ducked under the table as they coax Kita and her mother from their hiding spot.

You assess the damage, eyes scanning the room and catching on golden collars. Diamonds resting on the hollow of still throats. Snapped gossamer wings under a broken body. A platinum leash tangled in a chair, its nymph counterpart missing her lower half.

There are more Vanir than Vaesen among the dead. Caught up in leashes and collars. Stuck in a brass birdcage. Shackled to a table. Your stomach turns but you don’t focus on the faces. Committing them to memory makes them mean something and nothing means anything to you.

“Reaper.” Jungkook’s voices radiates the space between you and the space unseen, echoing in your mind. You turn to look at him. He has a firm grip on Kita, the child pressed to his side as Ji-Hoon argues with his wife silently. “We are escorting them out.”

“We’re with you.” The oily voice makes you stiffen. You don’t have to turn to see Taehyung among the aftermath. You do see the kitsune lingering off to the side, his dark eyes flickering from the ashes to you. “Both of us.”

Jungkook bows his head. “They were concentrated around Ji-Hoon and none of his men remain. It’s safe to assume he’s a target. Reaper and Yoongi with Kita and Daiyu. Taehyung with us.”

Taehyung moves past you, no longer interested in teasing you. Jungkook presses close to his brother and you press Kita and Daiyu between you and Yoongi. The huli jing looks at you skeptically, holding her daughter’s hand fiercely. You don’t give it much thought, following Jungkook’s lead as he leads your group through a service entrance.

It smells like sulfur and rot. Damp air clings to your skin, forming a sticky second layer. You grimace. The clack of dress shoes is loud against the tile floors. The hall is too narrow for you to walk in groups, meant for only a few Vanir to come and go at a time. You move quickly in single file line, Yoongi at the front with Kita and Daiyu between you.

Jungkook’s mind waivers on the edge of yours. You can feel that he’s aware of you, as though he is turning over his should to see if you’re still there. You can’t see him from the back of the line, but he doesn’t severe the connection.

Probably don’t know how.

Servant corridors are long and complicated. When Jungkook approaches a split, he takes one hall over another confidently. You peek into his mind, seeing the flash of blueprints and memory of a layout on a screen.

You know the layout of the servant halls, you observe. Down your connection, you sense him flinching. You knew you would be attacked?

No. His voice is curt. His mind is a dark storm, words cutting through hissing rain. But we are always prepared. It’s not often that someone tries to assassinate us, but...

But what?

Focus on your task.

Your lips twitch and you feel him draw away from you a bit. But what? You wonder. He was hiding something and that just wouldn’t do. Cutting into his mind would be as easy as clipping the wings of a butterfly. But you leave Jungkook alone for now, following the dark hall, Taehyung and Jihoon’s hushed voices drifting toward you.

A small door in the hall, nearly invisible leads to a tunnel. You can still see flitting images and thoughts across Jungkook’s memory. He has no control to his thoughts, no way to block you out. He is unaware of the danger you present to his mind, laid open for the taking.

And yet you don’t.

The ground slopes beneath your feet. Your press your fingers on the wall, casting your senses. There’s damp, empty air on the other side of the wall and you can hear the hush of slow floating water. Above you, the ceiling vibrates. You’re in a tunnel in the sewers.

Your eyes drift to Jungkook. He was trained in escape routes in the building. And seemed to be one of the few Vaesen armed at the party.

Unarmed Vaesen. The thought leads you somewhere between pleasure and contempt. Only the creatures of the Underworlds could be so arrogant as to think they have nothing to fear. In a way, they don’t. Demons and their kind are the apex predators, the top of the food chain.

But even among themselves, enemies lurk.

The sheer stupidity is comforting – the knowledge that it comes at the expense of how little of a threat Vanir pose, is not.

A cool awareness brushes against the nape of your neck. You pause, the echoes of shoes and Kita sniffing silently ahead reverberating off the walls. Your instinct flickers and you turn your head a fraction, angling your ear toward the way you came.

Silence stretches and stretches. You frown, stretching out the net of your mind. It’s a strange feeling, opening that barrier and sense of other. It’s not a psychic ability as much as it is sensing energy, magic, and existence, something many Vanier and Vaesen alike can do.

At first, there is nothing but empty space. Ahead of you, your group pushes on. They don’t notice that you’ve stopped entirely, head cocked and tense.

Then you hear it – or at least perceive it. A soft hiss, the smell of death.

They’re here, you hiss down the tether between you and Jungkook. You feel his surprise and then his anger as you turn to face the back of the tunnel. Keep going and let me know when you’re out of the tunnel. If I light up in here, you’re going down too.

Good to know you care.

You scoff. I still have use for you, Dominus.

Something like irritation and resentment slithers down the connection from Jungkook. It makes you smirk, pleased at offering opposition. It’s been a long time since you could openly oppose someone the way you now can. It’s a risk, but it’s a calculated one.

Sometimes you must let the monster in to give it a sense of comfort. You remember the lesson. You think about the Vaesen who so easily move about the world without weapons.

Yes, letting Jungkook see parts of you is necessary. Dangerous, but ultimately worth it.

Shuffling, stilted movements echo toward you. Sliding your feet apart and bent slightly at the knee, you wait in a defensive stance. You leave the connection to Jungkook open. As you wait for the creatures to reach you, you periodically drift to observe Jungkook and the others. They’re making quick work rushing through a network of tunnels, moving faster now that there is a threat.

Lightning will do you no good in an enclosed space. While you won’t kill yourself, the walls of the tunnel are reinforced with metal rods and bracketing, a perfect conduit for electricity. With the running water crisscrossing in the sewer system just behind, you’re positive you’ll light up half of the underground network if you try it.

So you wait. Sword in your hand. Poised.

The first creature slides into your line of sight. The corridor is dark and without light, the shapes of the bent wings in a small space almost comical. They cannot move more than one at a time, a single file line of twisted limbs and rotten smell.

It sees you and pauses. There are soft clicks, the sounds bouncing back and forth. You frown, watching as they all stop moving, the clicks drifting between them at different intervals and cadences like… a language.

They’re speaking.

Whatever they are, they have some sort of intelligence. The humanoid shapes are all wrong, but you can vaguely sense something thrumming inside of them that is both like you and not. Your stomach flips at the implication that you can sense the creatures the way you sense Jungkook stopped at a fork in the tunnels, unsure of which way to go.

The clicking stops. You turn your attention away from Jungkook, narrowing that feed of awareness tied to him to the barest thread. For a moment, you and the first creature stare at one another. The next moment, it’s charging forward faster than you expect.

You duck as the creature slams into you. The breath leaves your lungs, feeling as though you’d been hit with the force of a thick wall, but you push up with your back as the creature topples over you, sending it sprawling. Your sword hand is fast, flicking in an arch to sever the head as the creature stumbles to regain balance.

The narrow space immediately becomes a problem. The next creature is on you, teeth snapping hungrily as you back up, stepping and slipping slightly on the ichor leaking from the dead body beneath your feet. There’s no room to swing your sword, so you’re forced to twitch the blade back and forth, parrying sharp stabs from your assailant.

Just like the creatures in the ballroom, these are uncoordinated. Their stabs aren’t fast enough, joints cracking and twisting awkwardly in lurching motions as they attack. Cutting through them is difficult in the lack of space. They press in on you, making you track backward to give yourself more room to fight. It’s not ideal – you’re leading them toward where Jungkook and the others have started moving again.

“Fuck,” you snarl, tasting foul ichor on your tongue as it sprays you from a sharp wound on the neck of one of them. It bellows and claws forward.

Summoning air in the tunnel you thrust a hand out, punching toward them with wind. It rips through the halls, whistling as the air rushes past you in violent torrents. It slams into creatures, propelling them backward.

While they’re crumpled and disorganized in a pile, you take ground back, advancing on them. They clamor over one another, shrieking and twitching their wings as they regain a sense of control. You summon wind again, ready to send another blast when a raw scream rips down your mental tether with Jungkook.

It’s violent and invasive, prying open your connection and funneling unfiltered pain and wrath into your own mind. Your vision goes white for a second as the emotional tidal wave of Jungkook overwhelms you, unexpected and uncontrolled.

A spark of blue is the only warning you get from one of the hellish creatures. You barely react in time, summoning wind again at a greater force. It screams toward you, quick enough to meet the blue flame of Hellfire as it fills the hallway.

Heat scorches against air. You scream in alarm. For a moment, you think your makeshift airwall won’t be enough to keep you from being turned to soot.

It holds, a steady wind current coming down the tunnel. Dust, dirt, and mice get picked up in your vacuum, spinning and slamming into the solid, opaque wall of air. You keep your energy focused on the wind as much as you can, Jungkook’s mental screaming almost too much of a distraction as you try and close the mental door between the two of you.

But Jungkook is untrained and the son of Sariel. His connection to you is strong and whatever he’s experiencing on the other side of the tunnel system is a deeper well than you knew he was capable of.

Gritting your teeth, you dig down into your well of power. It’s always there, a bottomless pit of energy and ability to use your gifts. Some witches call it magic. Faeries call it glamour. Angels call it grace and there is a spark of it there, tiny and imperfect, but enough for you to sustain the wind and shut the door on Jungkook just enough.

Snippets rush by you. They’re at the mouth of an entrance somewhere – almost out of the tunnel system. But they’re fighting – you sense more creatures and… others. Demons. Jungkook’s rage is a storm, battering down on your connection to him and exploding out of him as he fights.

Get out of the tunnels, you demand. Jungkook I need you to at least get out of the tunnels.

There is no acknowledgment that he’s heard you. There’s only screaming wind, the song of his fury, and heat building up on the other side of your wall. You smell molten metal and realize the creatures are going to bring everything down.

Jungkook, you scream at him. There is nothing on the other side, just anger threatening to swallow him whole. Jungkook!

Nothing.

Gritting your teeth, you shift a few steps back. You take a deep breath, feeling the heat on the other side of your air wall, and you shove hard through your mental tether. You feel Jungkook’s awareness, fire and rain. He feels you now.

Get out the fucking tunnel or I will kill all of you. This is your last warning.

And it is. Jungkook is useful. Using him is easier than the alternative, and having to come up with an additional plan after killing him while trying to escape the city is far too complicated, and near the realm of impossibility.

Sweat begins to form on your hairline. You feel the slick on your legs and your palms, the air over-warm. It continues to get hotter and hotter, kicking up several notches. Azure swims on the other side of the air you feed into your protect. It flares, growing stronger off the oxygen you provide it, but you have no other choice.

Silver drips from the ceiling. You look up, spotting liquified metal oozing through the earth’s ceiling.

Go. Jungkook’s voice is nearly a whisper. You realize you’re screaming with the force of the power you’re feeding into your wind. His words are like a release, a flip switching as you dive headfirst into the electric current of your lightning.

It’s an explosion. Heat and electricity meet in a caustic battle, the walls and floor rumbling as your lightning pulses from you more like a wave than bolts. You hear the crack, feel it vibrate your ears, and then there is only loud ringing as you stumble backward.

Dust, ash, and metal fill the air. You’ve brought down half the tunnel and you’re splayed on your ass.

Rolling over on your stomach, you try and push yourself to your feet. You slide in dirt and darkness. It’s difficult to breathe, the air filled with static and heated enough that your skin feels like you’re on fire. You manage to find footing and retreat towards where Jungkook and the others have gone.

Nothing follows you.

The high-pitched ringing does not leave you. A bit dizzy, you follow the thread of Jungkook’s existence, feeling the thread between you pull you toward him. His rage has turned to agony, and you know someone is dead, though you cannot discern who.

When you finally reach the surface, you understand.

There are masked Vaesen littered around an empty warehouse. You’re close to the Celadon River, the taste of salt in the air as it filters in from the sea. You cannot hear beyond the scream of your damaged ears, but the wind here is cool, coming in through a giant hole in the ceiling, freshly singed.

Similar creatures that hunted you into the halls lay in pieces. Jungkook stands expressionless, ringed by bodies. It seems the fight was centered on him, death laying quietly at his feet. Yoongi and Taehyung stand a few feet away, expressionless. Watching.

A single shaft of moonlight shines on Jungkook through the broken ceiling. It paints half of his face silver, his eye rimmed silver. The rest of his face in shadow. It’s an eerie picture, half of him light and dark, split between two worlds. A child slithers down your spine as your eyes drift away from the thunder in his expression to his feet, where his eyes are fixed and you see the source of his unending agony.

Jihoon and his family are no more.

-

Namjoon is the only other person at the apartment. You eye him warily as he stands in the living room, arms crossed over his broad chest as he watches the holoscreen. Images of the party flash on the screen. There are videos from security cameras, starlets filming the chaos while at the party, and media drones outside of the building as the police force descended on the scene.

Reporters stand in the carnage. There are still broken bodies of Vanir, stepped over as the reporters lead their filming drones through the rooms. You can see Vanir tied to leashes on chairs. Again, you don’t look at their faces.

After appearing from the tunnel to find Jihoon and his family dead, you were ushered home immediately. You went without negotiation, casting a single look at Jungkook. He wouldn’t meet your eyes, his expression flitting between exquisite pain and nothingness.

Sensing your presence, Namjoon turns his head a fraction to look at you. His eyes harden and his jaw flexes, onyx eyes not leaving you for a second. You remember your perceived place with him, casting your eyes to the screen to ignore the way he burns holes through you with just a look.

“Go away,” he grunts. “Your presence is bothersome.”

“I’m sorry, dominus.” You make your voice light and airy. “Why has master not come home with me?”

Calling Jungkook master burns your tongue. You make yourself look small, tucking your chin to your chest and curving your shoulders inward, like you’re bracing to be hit. You play with the hem of your shirt, which is too big like the rest of your clothes.

Namjoon scoffs, not buying it. “Because he has to deal with this fucking mess.”

“I should be with master- “

“Drop the act. Whatever you are, it isn’t Carved. If Jungkook wants to keep you and do whatever he wants with you, that’s fine.” You glance up at him. He stares you dead in the eye. “But I don’t like you and I don’t trust you. Stay in your lane, I’ll stay in mine.”

Namjoon leaves the room, the holoscreen casting blue light on the empty space. You listen to him go. He goes to his own room at the far end of the apartment and shuts the door loudly.

“Dick,” you mutter, entering the living room proper to look up at the screen.

The sound is muted, only showing the chaos. “Elide, volume on.”

“State access name,” the apartment system responds, voice cool and clear. You recite your name. “Unregistered user.”

You snarl. “Elide, volume on.”

“State access name.”

“Jungkook.”

“Voice recognition failure.”

“Just turn the fucking volume on!”

The elevator door opens behind you. You whirl on your heel, teeth bared in frustration. Jungkook walks through the door, barely sparing you a glance as he says, “Stop yelling at the technology. I didn’t program you into the system.”

“I noticed.” He walks into the kitchen, tapping the corner of a cabinet. It unlocks and pops open, revealing shelves of liquor. He removes a bottle and taps the cabinet shut. “Didn’t think you needed it.”

“Well if you’d like me to get bored and burn the apartment down, that is an option.”

“Be my guest. I have others.”

“Humble.”

Dark rage hums under the surface. Jungkook moves around his kitchen slowly. He places a glass delicately on the counter, pulling the cork from the bottle before pouring himself amber liquid. You sniff. Whiskey of some sort.

Jungkook is silent, but his mind is a torrent of emotions. Blood pounds beneath the surface, a beast begging to escape. You can almost taste the chaos within him and yet… he keeps it there. Sipping his drink and leaning on the counter as he looks at the floor.

“Namjoon thinks I should kill you,” Jungkook mentions.

“Unsurprising.”

“Yoongi does too.”

You shrug. “The way of the fox is unknown to me.”

Jungkook’s mind is wide open. You reach for it while he sips his whiskey. He doesn’t register as you brush against his thoughts, trying to sort through them. His mental is in chaos, thoughts racing through his head and flashes of his brother being cut down. Of Kita’s screaming.

“Do you know what those things were?”

You picture the creatures at the party. Their staggered steps, their rotting breath. “Something made, not born.”

“What does that mean?”

“That means I’ve seen a lot of creatures for the hundreds of years that I have been alive, but I’ve never seen whatever those were. Those things are not natural.”

“Most of what is in this world isn’t natural.”

“They are not natural to any plane. I felt…” You trail off and shrug your shoulders.

Navigating his mind while it’s in chaos is hard. You’re looking for the thread of conversation from earlier that night, trying to understand what Jungkook had been talking about when he trailed off about being prepared for assassination attempts. But it’s convoluted and murky.

Jungkook glances up at you. His face is a mask. You must admit you’re impressed by the way he looks calm and collected with the storm raging inside of him, threatening to crack the façade at any moment. “Felt what?”

“You didn’t feel them? Like the way you feel me?”

“Are you telling me you’re one of- “

“No,” you cut him off. “Not in the sense of they are me. But you couldn’t feel them like… dots on a radar. Little signatures of something?” He shakes his head. You hum for a moment, letting the silence hang in the air before you say, “Your untrained mind nearly got me killed.”

A ripple of anger goes through him and his thoughts become more confusing. You sense him boiling under the surface, a steady tremor building and building and building.

A frenzy. Jungkook is nearing a frenzy. If you could get him to fall into it…. you examine him. Coming down from a frenzy would put him in a state of compliance and exhaustion, making his mind open to sift through like forgotten paperwork.

You decide to incense him.

 “I mean it,” you snap when he doesn’t answer you. You square your shoulders and let your power drop into the room. “Your level of incompetence is worse than seraphim children. Total lack of discipline and an embarrassment to someone who was sired by Sariel.”

A flip switches.

Jungkook is pushing off the counter and moving toward you but you stand your ground, chin lifted, gaze cutting. His mask has slipped a fraction, lip curled. “What did you just say?”

“I said that your utter lack of control is insulting and beneath your station.”

“You are in no position to speak to me like that.”

You splay your hands. Jungkook heaves a few feet away from him. You see the wheels turning, sense his adrenaline shooting upward. You needle him further. “I think we both agreed that here, I’m in a position to do whatever I want.”

Jungkook is fast. He’s in front of you in moments, hand shooting out to grab you by the throat. You’re not surprised by the action as he slams you against a wall, sneering. But you are surprised by the giddy delight that shoots up your spine as his fingers close tightly around your base.

When he squeezes, it isn’t to cut off your air supply. You recognize the sign of dominance, the grip he has on a vulnerable part of you. It’s the most instinctual form of an alpha trying to regain the upper hand and you’re so delighted that you laugh.

“I own you,” Jungkook whispers. “Whether you want it, or whether I want to. I signed your papers. You are legally mine.”

You lift a leg and wrap it around Jungkook’s waist, tugging him toward you. He balks, hand going slack around your throat as your hips press against his. A wave of pleasure rolls through you but you focus on the way Jungkook stutters, pulling back from you.

“Yeah?” you ask, tilting your head to the side. “You have the upper hand, dominus?” His fingers tighten but he doesn’t respond. You roll your hips into his, feeling the confidence from a moment ago slip through his fingers like sand. “What happened? I thought you owned me?”

“You are walking a dangerous line.”

“You’re doing nothing about it.”

“What do you want from me?” he grits out, teeth clenched. He’s shaking, loss of control so near.

“You own me?” you goad. “Then fucking use me, Jungkook. You’re two seconds from a fucking demonic frenzy and you don’t even have the sense to fall into it.”

“I don’t do that.”

You lean forward. He leans away but you crowd his space, eyes searching. You notice a mole just below his flush mouth, something you’ve never seen before. It’s soft. Endearing. You ignore the observation as your mouth brushes close to his, sharing breath.

“You’re afraid of your demon,” you purr. He says nothing, breathing heavily as he watches you, pupils dilated. “Weak.”

“I’m not afraid.”

“Then feed the demon, Jungkook.”

Jungkook hesitate. You watch him, his jaw working and his eyes staring at you. You see the moment he gives over control to the demon part of him, pupils turning into saucers as his hand grips your throat tight. He leans forward, pressing in on your space until you’re chest to chest and his mouth is at the shell of your ear.

“If you wanted me to fuck you, why didn’t you just ask?”

Your hands go to his biceps, digging your nails in. He hisses, fingers pressing into the sides of your neck to restrict your breathing. “I thought you owned me,” you taunt. “I’m allowed to ask?”

It’s the final push he needs.

A shift happens in Jungkook. Swiftly, he drops you and flips you, slamming you chest first into the wall. It knocks the wind from your lungs, making you gasp as he crushes himself against you, nosing your ear. His breath is hot, sending chills down your spine. You grin, knowing you’ve got him going in the right direction.

You press your ass backwards into him, feeling his semi-hard cock in his pants. In his state, it doesn’t even need to be you Jungkook is attracted to. His demon side is wild, hungry to do anything to destroy, to fuck, to kill.

Demon frenzies enhance lust and violence, like adding fuel to a fire. Jungkook’s flame is stoked, his agony over his family members and his frustration blinding him as he rips the back of your shirt open, your scares and flesh on display for him.

“You want to be fucked like I own you?” he asks, voice low. “Fine.”

It's nothing new, being fucked like you’re owned. But this is different – it feels different. When Jungkook’s hands brush up your spine, they’re not violent. They’re inquisitive. Callused. You shiver under his touch, eyes shutting as he pulls the fabric of the ruined shirt off you.

Your nipples are pressed to the wall, providing friction. You give into it, letting that blissful stimulation bloom inside of you as he nudges your head to the side with his nose.

“Spread your legs,” he demands. His voice is barely a whisper. You do. “Not so talkative now, are we?”

“Is my commentating part of fucking me like you own me, dominus?”

A loud rip splits the air. Jungkook tears through your sweats, warm hands seeking the flesh of your ass. He grips your cheeks firmly, massaging the flesh as he ruts against you slightly. You moan, surprisingly not for effect but at the way you feel.

Rare is the occasion in which someone made you feel good during sex. It isn’t what you’re after, but it’s a bonus, letting Jungkook slip his hand between your legs to brush his finger through your folds. You're not dripping for him, but you let out a breathy sound as pleasure unfurls low in your stomach when he does it.

Even out of control Jungkook shows restrain. Your fascinated, split between panting against the wall as Jungkook’s skill fingers circle your clenching hole, gathering your wetness to slip toward your clit, applying light pressure as he circles the bundle of nerves.

Jungkook dedicates time to getting you worked up. His breath is warm against your ear, low grunts shooting more arousal straight to your core. For the first time in years, you’re dripping for someone. You can feel the slick on Jungkook’s fingers, your pussy warm and swollen for him as he continues to play with you.

Taking control of Jungkook’s thoughts is far from your mind now. You're distracted, fists pressing into the wall as Jungkook slips a finger into your entrance. You gasp, the pad of his finger brushing against your front wall, massaging your g-spot.

“Fuck,” you swear, seeing stars.

It becomes clear Jungkook knows what he’s doing, fucking his finger into you. You can hear the wet-slap of his hand against your pussy, worked up for him now as his clothed cock presses into your ass cheek.

“Such a tight fucking pussy,” he mutters. He doesn't seem to be talking to you as much as himself. “Cock is never gonna fuckin’ fit in here. Hmm. Oh well.”

He pulls his finger from you. You let out an angry sound, eyes flying open to glare at him over your shoulder. He pops the finger in his mouth, momentarily dumbing you as you watch him suck the shine from his finger. He doesn’t look at you when he’s done, hand working to pop the button on his jeans and tug his cock out.

When you look down, you realize that Jungkook is right. He might not fit, and it sends a little thrill through you, watching the way his heavy cock bobs against his shirt, dabbing it with precum as Jungkook only pulls his pants down enough to fuck you.

You’ve spent years tirelessly bouncing on a variety of cock and diving between the legs of mistress after mistress. Sex is not a stranger to you. Sometimes you remember vaguely enjoying a thing or two. Sometimes even when you didn’t like it, your body at least orgasmed.

Being used is something familiar – but you’re not being used now. Even if Jungkook thinks you are. Even as he thumbs the precum from the dark tip of his cockhead to spread it down his thick shaft, Jungkook isn’t in control.

You remember that as Jungkook leisurely pumps himself before brushing the tip through your now sticky folds. You press your cheek against the wall, sighing as he teases you. It feels good. You reach out with your mind, brushing Jungkook’s sightly. His walls are down, vulnerable. Your sneer turns into a loud moan when Jungkook pushes into your pussy on the upstroke.

The stretch is painful, your stomach plummeting as Jungkook splits you open. The glide isn’t slow. His instincts take over and he immediately fucks into you hard and deep, slamming your hips into the wall with his full weight with every thrust.

Jungkook fucks the breath out of you. One hand presses your face into the wall, your cheekbones and jaw throbbing with the force of it. His other hand grabs your hips, holding you in position as he fucks himself into you hard.

Pain-laced pleasure shoots through you. The sounds that drip from your mouth isn’t for show. Your toes curl and your head swims at the way he takes control, fingers pressed into your flesh, cock pressing deep deep deep.

You lose yourself in the slap of flesh on flesh and curses. He spits insults at you, and you growl in response, biting one of his fingers that strays too close to your mouth. You taste blood, grinning as the salt and iron tinged with honey pulls on your tongue. He smacks your mouth, the stinging making you trill with high-pitched laughter.

“Crazy Carved bitch,” he slurs. “Is this what you fucking wanted? To be fucked like this?”

“Fuck me harder, Jungkook.”

He presses your skull harder into the wall. For a moment, you think it might crack under the pressure. But you don’t break, and Jungkook listens, driving into you at a pace that would break anyone else. Anything else. But it doesn’t break you and it feels good to know that it doesn’t. To feel the way your pussy flutters around him as he fucks you with abandon.

So many people have tried to break you. So many. Many have almost succeeded, and yet you prevail. You keep going. You survive. You move on. You wait. You win.

Your orgasm mounts. You feel it building inside of you like the same electricity that gathered in that small hall to destroy. It coils and coils and coils. You become short of breath, sucking in hair as you tremble under Jungkook’s weight. His mind is flayed open and raw for the taking but you wait. Not yet not yet not yet.

Jungkook picks up speed. You feel his pace get sloppy and the change in rhythm pushes you over the edge. You come around him with a scream, vision going white as you hold your breath. You feel your entire body seize up, thrashing under him. Jungkook presses you against the wall, trapping you and making you take it as he thrusts one – two – three more times before coming with a curse.

The pace slows. The sweaty tension between you begins to dissipate. You feel Jungkook pull himself out, cum immediately running down your legs. His energy is lower now and when you manage to catch your breath and look at him over your shoulder, he’s swaying on his feet, fucked out expression on his face. He’s flushed, tip of nose red.

Your legs are shaking and sticky. You take a step toward him feeling the slide of your thighs against one another, made slippery by cum. You hold out a hand and he stares at it, eyes wide, expression blank. He’s in the fall after a frenzy, somewhere dazed between thoughts in his head.

Tentatively, Jungkook takes your hand. You leave the torn clothes on the floor, you leave everything. Namjoon surely heard everything, but the Hellhound minds his business as you lead Jungkook to your room. The half demon, half angel is suddenly pliant for you. Soft at the edges. Mute.

You sit him on the bed and he stares at you. Unmoving. Unthinking.

Brushing your mind against his, you feel nothing but static. The buzz of his thoughts is unorganized and sleepy. You keep the connection open, stepping into the bathroom to wash the cum from your legs, the sweat from your back and the blood from your face. You had not even realized that he split your lip.

In your room, Jungkook doesn’t move. He is listless and calm, steady breathing letting you know that he hasn’t gone to sleep just yet, but that he’s not entirely present.

Slipping into clothes and back into the room, you stand in front of him, eyes flickering over his face. Jungkook looks at you but he’s not really there. A tiny part of you hesitates. Knows that to violate his mind has always been your greatest fear of yourself.

But life isn’t fair, and you have been a slave for hundreds of years. You have suffered and you will suffer again in the future. And though you see something in Jungkook that you recognize, you know that to spare him is to admit weakness.

Pain is inevitable. Pain is constant. Pain is power.

Jungkook knows nothing of these tenants. Knows nothing of the life his mother lived before him, her principles, her heritage.

Sympathy is something you cannot afford to give him. So you push into his mind, seizing his thoughts. He doesn’t put up a fight. He hardly knows what you’re doing as you begin sorting through what’s there.

Minds are unique to each person. Though some of your fallen companions had similarities in the way their memories and thoughts were laid out, everyone had something unique. Jungkook’s mind feels like a thunderstorm at night, soft with the threat of something more. Something melancholy plays there, a tune that is familiar, but you cannot place.

You sift through the night's events. You see things through his eyes. Feel the contempt for those around him. Feel the apathy for the Vanir leashed to chairs and in cages. Feel the unfettered spark of adoration when he sees Kita. Feel the love for his brother, though you had not sensed it upon meeting Jihoon.

And there is love there. Maybe not in the form that humans or texts perceive it. But you taste the sweetness of the affection, and you understand that there are positive emotions when Jungkook looks at his older brother, no matter how complicated.

You sift through to running through the tunnels. Jungkook feels glad that he prepared. They had been worried as of late – there were confirmed movements of the rebel group Libram in the city. Confirmations of assets destroyed and vanishing members of the local government.

This surprises you. You were not aware that the rebels were so familiar with the city yet. The thought of the free cities is so distant from you that it feels odd to conceptualize that there are members of their organization in Lythos.

You follow the thread of Jungkook’s conversation with you from earlier.

But we are always prepared. It’s not often that someone tries to assassinate us, but...

But Jungkook had known that there was a growing presence of Libram in the city. And Belial had tortured you repeatedly for information on Libram, looking for any connection to the rebellion. To Michael. To the last remaining seraphim across the worlds.

You take a sharp breath. Jungkook’s feelings regarding Libram were wary. Laced with uncertainty and fear. You follow those thoughts, flipping through his memories looking for more information. Four assassinations on government officials. The destruction of one of the Kim’s synth mines. Liquidation of accounts that belonged to Belial through unknown methods and hackers.

For as long as you had belonged to Faustus to fight, you had kept your head down. You focused on living. Small moves and counter moves. You had not been looking for any news of Libram or their existence in the city, and until now, you had thought there weren’t many in the city. Whispers of the potential but nothing like what you’re seeing in Jungkook’s thoughts.

Carefully, you extract your mind from his and sit on the bed. With him tired and swaying, you offer him a nudge to go to sleep. He lays backwards, dark lashes fluttering shut. You watch him for a while, thoughts ruminating on the new information.

Libram being in the city is a factor that you did not calculate. You chew on your lips as you think of your next move. One way to gather the information you need would be through your Vanir contacts. You have so few. But the best way to get good information is through your Vaesen contacts, which are even fewer.

You think about the twisted creatures that killed Jungkook’s family. They did seem like... angels and demons twisted together. Like the stitching together of things that didn’t belong. Half-demons, half-angels were rare to begin with. But it was like they were trying to make something else.

Belial’s question comes back to you about Lilins. The children of Lilith herself, born from her savage rape of the Heavens, but specifically, the archangels. Unique creatures, with the perfectbalance. Enough demon blood to hide the angelic blood, and enough angelic blood to hide the demon.

The flicker of familiarity you felt when fighting those creatures sends a sinking feeling to the pit of your stomach. You look at Jungkook, asleep. He looks gentle in his sleep, lines smoothed out on his face. Round and childlike.

In the morning, you’ll go back to pretending. But for now, you pull your knees to your chest, setting your chin on top of them as you consider the options before deciding that you need to follow the sick feeling that twists your gut.

Because if you’re suspicions are right... Libram made those creatures that killed Jungkook’s family tonight, targeting Belial and his children. It puts you in a dangerous position, but also a favorable one if Libram discovers your existence and grows curious about how useful you might be.

Yet none of it relieves you. Because if those creatures are what you think they are, there are seraphim in the world that are trying to bring Lilins back to the fight. Lilins, the creatures solely responsible for bringing the Heavens down.

-

D E F I N I T I O N S

Adamas - metal made from the Heavens, favorite in weapons used by angels and fae

Carved – angels who have had their wings surgically removed and sold for ownership. The possession of an angel’s wings gives the owner power over the angel’s grace, thereby giving them power over the angel.

Collared – a Vanir who is owned as a slave. They are often identifiable by the custom collars their masters put on their necks.

Dominus – term used by a slave to their male identifying master

Huli jing - Chinese fox spirit; similar to the Kitsune

Lilins - the offspring of the First Demon, Lilith, an the seraphim, most notably with the angels Uriel and Raphael. They are the perfect balance of Vanir and Vaesen and were used as spies during the war.

Seraph - a single angel, one of the seraphim

Seraphim - species of angels associated with Christian heaven, soldiers of God

Triumvirate – the three Lords who rule the Realms – figures of the Underworld

Vaesen – creatures associated with Underworld Realms such as demons, daevas, sorcerers, vampires, wraiths, and monster-like creatures

Vanir – creatures associated with Heaven Realms such as angels, faeries, witches, dragons, demigods and any heavenly-like being

-

I am no longer doing a tag list. After several attempts to get this tag list to work and Tumblr refusing to tag correct/process the post, I just took them off. I'm removing taglists for 2023 anyways because of how difficult tagging has become (incorrect usernames, Tumblr eating tags, copy and pasting not working).

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[here2bbtstrash]

sunday (explicit)

genre: straight-up smut baybey, i did it y'all i wrote a pwp again

pairing: seokjin x reader

summary: you got your boyfriend exactly what he wanted for his birthday.

word count: 5k

contains: explicit sexual content~*~ say it with me: BRAT 👏 TAMER 👏 SEOKJIN 👏 established relationship, reader is uhhh 😬 Extremely bratty lmao, jin takes care of that, BDSM dynamics (mention of safewords and hand signals but neither are used!), reader gets spanked with a belt oop 🤭, fingering/a lil bit of eating it from the back, orgasm denial, big dick jin 😏, praise kink, mouth/throat fucking, a bit of breathplay, begging and apologizing, oh yeah she cries... like.... kind of a lot 🥲 there's a dacryphilia moment in there too (~*~add a little spice~*~), unprotected sex but they're in love it's fine, lots of subspace at the end, use of a vibrator, overstimulation, she comes.... idek how many times, and a smidge of aftercare 🫠 also i promise there's no food play, you'll get why the cake's there at the end ok lmao

A/N: a day late and a dollar short but hey that's my mental health rn 🫡 this was fun!!! always nice to dust off the ol' pwp muscles and frankly i've been itching to write proper BDSM for a bit now. sometimes you just wanna get the shit beat out of you lovingly and that's valid and sexy ya know. anyway feel free to silently skip this one if it's not for you!! and i know i'm gonna get a comment on it so 🙄 i used his korean age on purpose lmao 🙄 yes i can count and yes i know their system is changing~ ANYWAY i sincerely hope you enjoy babes and that you all had a lovely seokjin day 🥺 i loooove y'all !!! 💜

thank you to @haliiimede for beta reading and being my soulmate 🥺

read on AO3!

~*~

The slam of the front door tells you that your plan for today has worked perfectly.

Standing in front of the full length mirror in your bedroom, you adjust a final strap on your bralette, then quickly scramble to pull your clothes back on. You attempt to keep your expression innocent as you slip down the hallway to greet your boyfriend.

Before you can even make it, you hear the unmistakable pop of a wine bottle being uncorked, and you enter the kitchen just in time to see Seokjin leaning up against the counter with a glass of white in hand. He doesn’t look particularly pleased to see you.

“Hi baby,” you say, sweet as can be. “Can I have a glass?”

A muscle works in his jaw as he looks you over, and the expression on his face already has a flame licking in the pit of your stomach.

“That's all you have to say?” he finally answers.

You blink up at him, feigning ignorance. Your heartbeat has started to race behind your ribs, sensing imminent danger— the good kind.

“I haven't heard from you all day today,” he tries again.

You shrug. “I was still sleeping when you left this morning, and then, I don't know. I was doing things. Does it matter?” If Seokjin wasn’t already pissed, you know your last question will get him. You turn away to busy yourself with retrieving a wine glass so he can’t see the smile you’re trying to bite back.

The tone of his voice makes you freeze, glass in hand. “I don't recall saying you could have any.”

Your lower lip juts out automatically, and you do your best to steady your breathing without making it apparent. Even your voice comes out a little shaky. “But we always share.”

The silence in the kitchen feels deafening, punctuated by the soft tap of Seokjin setting his glass on the counter. You mirror him, swallowing hard as he steps in to close the distance between you. It never gets any less exciting to have him tower over you, big and broad-shouldered, tall enough that you have to look up through your lashes to meet his gaze. A dull ache starts to pulse between your legs.

“Do you know what today is?”

You lick your lips and try to speak. “Sunday?”

It’s like you barely get the word out before he’s gripping your jaw with one large hand, and you can feel your heartbeat in your throat. Anticipation buzzes through your body, all the way down to your toes, as he forces your chin up.

“Anything else?” His voice sounds like a warning.

Your mouth pulls into a grin beneath his grasp, one you can’t quite manage to keep innocent. “Oh, Seokjin, is it your birthday? I knew I was forgetting something. Oops.”

“Fucking brat.”

All at once Seokjin locks an arm around your hips, and you let out a shrill squeak as your feet leave the floor entirely when he outright slings you over his shoulder. This is, of course, exactly what you’d hoped for, but you struggle a little in his grip nonetheless. All part of the fun.

You’d left the bedroom door cracked on your way out to greet him, and he takes the opportunity to kick it back open. A shiver runs up your spine at the sight, and then you hit the bed hard enough to knock the breath out of your lungs.

You push up onto your hands as you sit up, slightly dizzy.

“That hurt, Seokjin,” you whine, but you both know you don’t mean it. You have agreed-upon methods of telling him when he’s really hurting you in a way that doesn’t feel good: safewords, even hand signals for when you’re rendered non-verbal. Anything said that isn’t one of those is just you running your mouth on purpose, winding him up. Like now. “You’re being so dramatic.”

“And you’ve got a fucking attitude today,” he snaps. “Is this really how you want to do this? On my fucking birthday?”

You blink up at him with the same sweet smile. “What if I told you I got you a present?”

This seems to surprise him a little, and he pauses, like he doesn’t quite buy it. “A present, huh?”

“Mm-hmm.” You nod as you get to your feet. “Let me unwrap it for you.”

Taking your time with it, you peel off your sweatshirt and leggings to reveal the lingerie you pulled on as he was coming home. It’s a soft pink set with a floral design, thin straps, and romantic lace, and you happen to think it does wonders for your curves.

“What do you think?”

You can see the hungry gleam in Seokjin's eyes even as he scoffs, feigning disinterest. “Oh, this is my present? A disrespectful brat that I have to teach a lesson? I should rip this shit off.”

“Hey, this was expensive!” you snap, and he arches an eyebrow as if to give you a final chance to behave. It just makes you want to push him that much further.

You step closer, allowing a perfect line of sight to your tits that threaten to spill out of their confinements, and you soften your voice when you speak again. “What, you don’t forgive me, Seokjin?”

The corner of his mouth just barely ticks up. “You know the rules. Forgiveness is earned.”

He reaches a hand down to undo the buckle of his belt, and your nipples are suddenly painfully hard against the lace fabric. You can’t remember the last time he used his belt. Fuck, he’s really mad.

“Bend over.”

You huff a sigh as you drape yourself over the edge of the bed, and his hands are already on your ass. He makes a low noise of appreciation as his fingertips dig into your supple skin, pressing firm enough to make you wince. He's not being gentle, and you don’t want him to be.

Your eyes flutter closed in enjoyment of being manhandled like this, and you get so lost in it that it takes you a second to realize Seokjin has asked you a question. By then it’s already too late.

He gives a warning slap to your ass as he repeats himself. “I said, how old am I?”

You peek over your shoulder, wiggling your ass against the flat of his palm, only for him to smack you hard over your left cheek. You bite back a whimper, not wanting to give him the satisfaction.

“I don't know,” you lie, blinking up at him. “You’re so old now, it’s hard to remember.”

In one swift move, he yanks his belt out from around his waist, and you swallow hard as you watch him fold it over in his hands.

“Then why don’t you fucking count for me.”

The belt cracks down over your ass, and you flinch at the first real rush of pain. It takes you a second to regain focus, your brain still buzzing from the hit, and then his words come back to you.

“One.”

“So you are capable of listening, huh?”

Another hit, equally as hard on the other side, and you grit your teeth.

“Two.”

“Aw, where’d that smart mouth go? Not so chatty now?” Seokjin cracks the belt again, and you can barely get the word three out before four is being delivered just as harshly. You squeeze your eyes shut and try to breathe. He's really hitting hard tonight.

“Four,” you gasp, and you hear Seokjin exhale a dark laugh above you.

“Better toughen up, sweetheart. We’ve got a long way to go.” Another hit in the same spot, this one enough to really sting.

“Five.”

“You know, since I'm so old.”

The next blow he delivers is so hard, the word comes out as a cry of pain. “Six!”

You flatten your pelvis down against the sheets, as if in an attempt to hide from the beating, but there’s nowhere to go. The extra pressure makes you feel how hard your clit has started to throb from your punishment. You bury your face in the crook of your elbow, your hips jerking reflexively as you moan through seven, eight, nine.

Every muscle in your body seizes taut as you prepare for ten, trying to encourage yourself to breathe through it, though all you can get out right now are shallow gasps for air. I can take this, you tell yourself, I can take this.

But it doesn’t come. You’re pulled so tight you think you might snap, and you manage to lift your head up from your arms to look back at Seokjin.

“There she is,” he says, and the soft tone of his voice in no way influences how hard he brings the belt down over your ass.

“Ten!” you groan, and the sharp bite of pain over your already raw skin nearly brings tears to your eyes. And he’s not even halfway done.

It’s all you can do now to remember what number you’re on, especially as Seokjin continues to allow torturously long pauses between his hits. He'll wait just long enough that your heartbeat starts to slow, teasing the thin length of the belt up the backs of your thighs, sometimes even with a laugh.

But it’s not relief: the waiting keeps every inch of you on edge, all wound up with anticipation of the next dose of pain, so tense you’re not sure you’re breathing.

You’ve hardly choked out fourteen when you flinch at a brush of contact, the warm touch of skin where you were expecting the crack of leather. Letting your forehead drop against the bed, you pant like you’ve just run a marathon as Seokjin's hand moves over your abused flesh, groping and massaging as he did before. You can’t tell if it’s been minutes or hours since then, but his touch is grounding, calming, even when his fingers sink into your fresh bruises with enough force to make you whimper.

You can feel the way the seam of your panties sticks to your center now, and you can only imagine that they must be entirely soaked through, your slickness already starting to paint the crux of your thighs. With a soft whine of need, you spread your legs a little wider in search of anything but more pain.

“What do you think?” Seokjin's voice is dark when he speaks, thick with lust. The thought of him straining hard against his pants has you practically drooling on the mattress. You want nothing more than that cock stretching you open right now. “Starting to learn your lesson?”

As much as the rational part of you appreciates the check-in, you can’t ignore the new rush of rebellion that surges up at the question. What, does he think you need him to go easy? Does he think you’re not tough enough, that you can’t take everything he’s willing to give you?

You push up to look over your shoulder at him again, your jaw set firm. “No.”

Anger flashes over his face, but he can’t quite hide his smile. “Then I guess I can stop holding back.”

Shit, he was—? You don’t get the opportunity to finish that thought before the loop of his belt is whizzing through the air, and the impact it makes against your ass hits so hard, you momentarily see stars. “Fuck!”

“That's not a fucking number.”

“Fifteen,” you gasp, dropping limp against the bed like a ragdoll, breathless with relief that you didn’t lose track. “Fifteen.”

“The brat can count,” Seokjin remarks, and then he delivers sixteen just as hard and your whole body spasms from the pain as you choke out the number. “If only you knew how old I was, you might have some idea of how much longer I have to beat your ass.”

Your eyes are really starting to well up now, but you force yourself to keep breathing, to focus on his words. It might be coded to fit the scene, but it’s a clear reminder nonetheless: you’re more than halfway. You can do this.

By twenty, the tears have started to spill down your face, but Seokjin knows you well enough to know the scene doesn’t stop unless you call a safeword. He trusts you to know your own limits, and you do. But fuck, he can really test them sometimes. You’re dying for him to touch you, fuck you, do anything but keep fucking beating you. It’s taking everything in you to keep going, your feet kicking helplessly each time he brings the belt down over your tender backside. He hasn’t lightened the weight of his hits up even in the slightest. If anything, they’re only getting worse.

“Twenty-one,” you breathe. You only have ten hits left, and you’ve already gotten through ten hits twice now. You can do this.

“Twenty-two.” You tell yourself not to fight it.

“Twenty-three.” Just give into the pain.

“Twenty-four.” Submit.

Your shoulders heave with sobs as the twenty-fifth strike finally, finally breaks your last resolve. You press your face into the mattress; you’re crying so hard you can scarcely breathe. Even though your body keeps flinching with the reflexive animal reaction to try and get away from the pain, your mind has fully accepted your punishment, all the fight gone out of you.

It’s like someone else is counting for you now, so much so that you don’t even realize what number Seokjin is on until the words leave your mouth.

“Thirty-one.”

You hear the jingle and thud of the belt hitting the floor, and then his gentle hands are encouraging your legs to spread apart. The brush of his fingers over your aching core is sweet, overwhelming relief from the pain still coursing through your system. You’d think it’d be enough to make you cry, if you weren’t already.

“Good girl,” he says softly, and that small praise alone has you floating straight up to the ceiling.

His hands move quickly to pull your panties down and off, and you work to get your breathing back under control, letting your sobs dissolve into sniffling gulps. You whimper when his palms slip under your hips, encouraging you up onto your knees. Your body shivers all over as you try to hold yourself up, to be good, and then you feel Seokjin slip two fingers into your drenched center.

“Oh my god,” you groan as he starts to rub diligently at the ridges of your front wall, his free hand gripping your ass to spread you open. His touch in both places at once, pressing down on fresh swollen bruises and curling up into the sweetest part of you, it’s so good. It reminds you why you willingly give yourself over to this man, the one you love so much, the only one who can make you feel like this. You’re so turned on from the mix of pleasure and pain, you might be close to blacking out.

The bed creaks as he shifts a little, and then he replaces his fingers with his mouth, and you keen. You bury your sounds in the crook of your elbow as his tongue plunges into you, and he snakes a hand between your legs to rub slow circles over your clit. Your mind is reeling; you can barely manage to speak.

“S-Seokjin,” you gasp. “You’re g-gonna, ngh, gonna make me—”

He pulls off just enough to mutter, “You better fucking ask first.”

You swear he ups the intensity on purpose when his mouth returns to your pussy, as if to drag you that much closer to the edge. His thumb is working so perfectly at your clit, you can feel your thighs starting to shake as you writhe back against him. “Can I— can I please come, Seokjin? Pleaseplease, please?”

“No.”

His voice is firm, unbothered, and paired with the painful loss of his touch all at once. A strangled sob of frustration escapes you as you collapse against the bed, exhausted from holding yourself up and from your denied release.

“Not yet,” Seokjin continues. “Not until you’ve learned to be a little more obedient.”

His strong hand closes over your bicep, and he easily flips you over onto your back, causing you to hiss at the graze of your sore flesh against the sheets. Your lower lip trembles, your eyes threatening tears as you stare up at him, but you stay quiet.

“Be a good girl,” Seokjin says, dragging one finger up the column of your throat. You willingly tip your head back for him as a shiver rolls through you. “Let me fuck this smart mouth, then I’ll make you come as many times as you can handle. Okay?”

When you nod softly, he hauls you up to your feet. “Get on your knees.”

You do as he says, sitting back on your heels and watching as he works his pants and boxers down to free his cock. He’s thick and long, flushed dark and dripping hard. Big enough that you go slightly cross-eyed trying to take him in. Your cunt clenches desperately at his size, at how badly you need all of him inside you, bottoming out into you again and again.

But even moreso, you want to be good.

“Mouth open,” Seokjin instructs, and you comply, letting your tongue loll out for him as he tangles a hand in your hair.

He guides himself between your lips, and your eyes roll back at the weight of him on your tongue, the feeling of your jaw stretching open to fit him. He’s so fucking big, it’s uncomfortable, but you do your best to breathe around him and give into it.

Trying to hold still, hands placed sweetly on your thighs because you know he likes it that way, you blink up at Seokjin as he starts to thrust into your mouth. You can taste the salt of his precum as his length drags along your tongue, and you fight back the urge to gag when the tip of his cock nudges into the back wall of your throat. He groans softly as he rubs himself there, his grip on your hair tightening until the pain stings your scalp. Your eyes start to water as you try to keep yourself from choking.

“Fuck,” he hisses when he pulls out, saliva stringing in thick strands from your mouth to the head of his cock. He squeezes at the base of it, eyes glazed dark with lust, and you take in as much air as you can, the cool rush painful where your throat is sore from the stretch of him.

You sit up taller as if to ask for more.

Seokjin’s gaze meets yours as the hand on his cock guides it back toward you, but he doesn’t slip back into your mouth. His eyes are fixated hungrily on your face as he drags the head of his dick down over your bottom lip, teasing it around your mouth and along your cheeks, clearly enjoying that he can do whatever he wants with you.

Your pulse drums loudly in your ears as you sit there, mouth open, and take it. The whole lower half of your face must be slick with spit and precum now, given how easily he glides across your skin, and then you’re hit with the heavy thud of him smacking his cock once, twice, three times against your flat, willing tongue.

“Are you done being a brat now?” he prompts, and you can feel drool spilling down your chin as you nod, his cock still weighing heavy on your outstretched tongue. He slips it in a little further, just past the ring of your lips.

“Gonna be a good girl for me?”

A soft whine escapes around his girth filling your mouth. You nod again, desperate, and then he hits the back of your throat with enough force to make you gag noisily. Your body shudders beneath him, and you try to keep it together.

“Learned your fucking lesson?”

Tears start to sting at the corners of your eyes as he keeps sliding himself into your mouth, the head of his cock dipping down into the tight clutch of your throat, as far as he can go until your nose is flush with his abdomen. You can’t make another sound, your mouth crammed too full, but you do your best to nod even as you lose the ability to keep breathing.

Seokjin’s thumb brushes over the bulge in your throat, and you know what he wants. Tears slip down your cheeks as you squeeze your eyes shut and swallow around him, and he rewards you with an unabashed moan that lights up everything inside you.

“That’s it. You look so good when you cry on my cock,” he rasps, his hand closing over your throat as you swallow again.

You can feel yourself starting to get light headed from lack of oxygen as more tears stream down your face, but the praise spurs you on. You want it too much, it makes you eager to please at any cost, despite the dizzying surge of adrenaline, despite the way your throat is spasming painfully now. You’ll pass out with his cock down your throat, if that’s what it takes.

He pulls out all at once, and the rush of air you heave in is like broken glass against your raw throat. You fall forward, your palms just barely catching you from landing directly onto your face, and you can’t do anything for a moment but breathe in ragged, shaky gasps. Tears are still welling up in your eyes, dripping down onto the carpet beneath you.

Your world tilts as Seokjin easily scoops you up in his arms just to drop you onto the bed, flat on your back. There’s still the dull ache of the bruises he beat into your ass, but it’s like someone’s turned the volume down on it. All your physical sensations seem distant, like they’re happening to someone else, even the dull ache thudding between your legs, a desperate desire to come that was only made worse by being used as your boyfriend’s fucktoy.

Your eyes flutter closed as his hands slip up your body to undo your lacy bralette and peel it off of you, and you don’t fight it.

“Hey, hey. Look at me.” Seokjin's voice pulls you back from the edge, and you fight to open your eyes again. He's hovering over you, fully stripped now, his brow creased slightly with concern. “Stay with me a little bit longer, okay?” His tone is still serious, and you sniff softly as you nod.

He slips a palm encouragingly under your thigh and you do the rest, so out of body that it’s like you weigh nothing at all as you pull your knees up to effectively bend yourself in half for him. He practically growls at the sight of you spread for him so willingly, presenting a cunt swollen with need, painted glossy with arousal.

You watch through heavy-lidded eyes as he kneels up on the bed, and then his thick cock is grinding over you, dragged right up your center. The feeling of finally being touched where you need it most has you exhaling a moan of relief.

“Is this what you want?” Seokjin's breath is hot on your neck and chased by the scrape of his teeth, earning another noise of pleasure from you. Your clit throbs as he rolls the head of his dick over it, up and down, slow teasing.

“Yes,” you manage to gasp. Your voice comes out a little broken from your scraped-up throat. “Yes, please. Please fuck me, please, want it so bad.”

“Which do you want more?”

You’re so gone, choking on whimpers and whines, that his hand closes over your throat to make you focus on the rest of his question. The look on his face is so dark, it sends a shiver down your spine.

“My dick, or my forgiveness?”

Tears spring to your eyes immediately as an overwhelming wave of emotions floods through you. There isn’t a doubt in your mind what your answer is, you don’t even have to pause to consider it. As badly as you want, need him to fuck you, the thought of Seokjin discarding you when he’s finished, still upset, not kissing every inch of your skin, not praising you for being so good… you can’t bear it.

“Your forgiveness,” you sob, doing your best to keep breathing despite his hand around your throat. “Please, please, please forgive me. I'm so sorry. I just wanna be good, wanna be good for you, I don't need anything else.”

You can see his face soften even through the tears that blur your vision. “There she is,” he murmurs, and then he tips his head down to brush his lips over yours. The warm touch of his mouth is all the reward you could ever ask for, and he sucks sweetly on your bottom lip before pulling back.

“Good answer, babygirl.”

Before you can even process what’s happening, he’s fucking the whole of his thick cock into you, and you can only keen as he stretches you wide enough to fit all of him. Your walls are immediately trembling tight to him from how edged close you’ve been all night.

“Thank you,” you moan, your head dropping back against the pillow. A gasp rips through you as he bottoms out, your spine arching when the crown of his cock presses firmly on your cervix. “Thank you, oh fuck.”

“Yeah,” Seokjin purrs, his mouth against your collarbone. You think he might be sucking a mark into your skin, but it’s already getting hard to tell what’s happening. “You always take it so well after I beat the brat out of you. Let go now, baby. You’ve earned it.”

You’re grateful for the permission, because you’re not sure you could stay tethered any longer if you tried. Not when he’s splitting you open, thrusting hard and deep because he knows you can take it, with a cock fat enough to light up every sweet spot in you at once. Your eyes roll back as you start to float, so out of it that you barely even notice a faint buzzing sound until you realize Seokjin is pressing your vibrator down against your swollen, aching clit.

Fuck, when did he even grab it off the nightstand?

You’re vaguely aware of someone moaning, but it doesn’t even feel like you. You’ve given up entirely to it now, a sweet surrender to this all-encompassing pleasure. It’s so good, too good, it slips you out of your mind and body alike, like he’s fucking your brain right out of your skull.

“That’s it, come on my cock,” Seokjin groans, and fuck, you are, you’re coming hard enough to drench his cock with every pulse of your needy cunt. “Such a good girl.”

He doesn't even pull the toy off to give you a moment of recovery, just keeps it nestled between your folds as he pounds into you. Your hips shudder violently as you coast out of your first climax and straight into another one.

It all starts to blur together now, wave after wave of orgasm washing over you until you’re drowning in it. You come and come and come until it feels like you’re melting into the bed, pinned through by this massive cock and the endless mind-numbing buzz on your clit. You can distantly tell that you’ve soaked a wet spot into the sheets beneath you, that your thighs and even the muscles of your ass are shaking from overstimulation.

“S-S-Seokjin.” It takes you three tries to get his name out, and you’re still not really sure if you said it until the toy switches off. The humming sensation is still reverberating through your body even in the absence of it, enough to make you tremble all over as he picks up the pace.

“Gonna fucking— fill you up,” Seokjin grunts, voice thick with effort, and then his cock twitches at the very back of you, buried deep as it can go, pulsing heavy as he paints you with rope after rope of his release. 

You’re still not here, not really, not when he pulls out with a heavy sigh, when the cum starts to drool down your legs, when he drops onto the mattress beside you and pulls you into him. It comes back to you in pieces: you’re shivering all over, breathing hard, your face is wet— fuck, when were you crying?

It takes you several moments to realize Seokjin is murmuring in your ear, that his fingers are carding through your hair, his breath ghosting over your skin. “Just breathe, baby. Did so well, it’s over now. You’re safe.”

As the post-scene comedown settles into your bones, you bury your face into his shoulder, trying to breathe through the myriad of emotions and chemicals flooding your system. He pulls the blanket up over your chest, and the warmth of it and his body help to gently bring you down from the high.

You don’t know how long you lay like that until you finally manage to squeak out a question. “Y-you’re not really mad, right?”

Seokjin laughs gently as he presses a kiss to your hairline. “No, baby. I know you didn’t really forget. The birthday cake in the fridge kinda gave it away.”

The words take a second to hit you, and then a dazed giggle bubbles up in your chest. It’s like you’re floating as you start to laugh, your face still pressed into Seokjin’s skin, and you can feel the rumble of him laughing too. It didn’t even occur to you that he would’ve seen the fucking cake when he grabbed himself a bottle of wine.

“Oh,” is all you can think to say, and you keep giggling as his lips move over the line of your jaw, trailing kisses.

“You’re cute when you’re trying to get punished,” he says softly. “It's part of why I love you. You’re my perfect little brat. And this was the perfect gift, seriously.”

A warm glow blooms in your chest at the praise, and you sigh happily as you curl up against his side. “Can we eat cake in bed?”

Seokjin leans down to brush his mouth over yours, sweetly adoring. “Anything you want.”

[jjkeverlastreads]

my reading list 2022/23

✎ here's my on-going reading list of fics i'm either gonna read or are reading at this moment throughout 2022/23! a huge thanks and praise to all the amazing authors on this platform that continue to write wonderful stories and share them with the world! <3

ON-GOING SERIES

CARVED by @haliiimede [3/?] ≫ pairing demon!jungkook x angel!reader ≫ genre/aus urban fantasy!au, dystopian, smut ≫ trope enemies to semi-lovers ≫ rating 18+

LOOK DOWN ON ME LIKE THAT by @here2bbtstrash [8/?] ≫ pairing yoongi x reader ≫ genre/aus angst, office!au, smut ≫ trope slow burn enemies to lovers/hatefucking coworkers ≫ rating 18+

TWIRL FOR ME by @gimmethatagustd [3/?] ≫ pairing dad!yoongi x f.reader (ft. jungkook) ≫ genre/aus slow burn, angst, fluff, smut ≫ trope strangers to lovers ≫ rating 18+

FEELING IN CHAOS by @here4btsfics [3/7] ≫ pairing jungkook x f.reader ≫ genre/aus angst, fluff, smut, college!au, best friend's brother!au ≫ trope friends to lovers ≫ rating 18+

DANGER ZONE by @jeonjcngkook [1/5] ≫ pairing boxer!jungkook x f.reader ≫ genre/aus fluff, smut, boxing!au, sex bans ≫ trope established relationship ≫ rating 18+

BUNNY by @btssmutgalore [4/6] ≫ pairing camboy!jungkook x reader ≫ genre/aus camboy!au, smut, angst ≫ trope friends to lovers ≫ rating 18+

BICKER by @btssmutgalore [6/?] ≫ pairing taehyung x reader ≫ genre/aus cabin trip!au, smut, angst ≫ trope enemies to lovers ≫ rating 18+

ALL I WANT by @sxtaep [5/6] ≫ pairing fuckboy!jungkook x best friend!f.reader ≫ genre/aus fluff, smut, college!au ≫ trope best friends to lovers ≫ rating 18+

BLACKOUT by @jjungxkook [2/3] ≫ pairing jungkook x reader ≫ genre/aus smut, fluff, angst, roommate!au, college!au, ≫ trope best friends to lovers ≫ rating 18+

SUGA'S HOW-TO GUIDE by @haliiimede [4/?] ≫ pairing camboy!yoongi x f.reader ≫ genre/aus camboy!au, pwp, drabble series!! ≫ trope friends to lovers ≫ rating 18+

AS WE WERE by @archivedkookie [9/?] ≫ pairing jungkook x f.reader ≫ genre/aus infidelity!au, divorce!au, eventual smut, heavy angst ≫ trope none! (it's hard to know if they'll get back together or not) ≫ rating 18+

COLLATERAL by @nabiolive [12/20] ≫ pairing min yoongi x reader ≫ genre/aus mafia au, smut, angst, fluff ≫ trope strangers to lovers ≫ rating 21+ [read the warnings for better understanding!]

FINISHED SERIES

INTERSECT by @shina913 [10/10] ≫ pairing kim namjoon x f.reader (ft. yoongi & OT7) ≫ genre/aus office!au, fluff, angst, smut ≫ trope enemies to lovers ≫ rating 18+

COMPLETE FAITH by @daechwitatamic [10/10] ≫ pairing taehyung x f.reader ≫ genre/aus angst, office!au ≫ trope coworkers to lovers to idiots to lovers again ≫ rating 18+

ONLY HERE TO SIN by @gimmethatagustd [4/4] ≫ pairing fuckboy!taehyung x f.reader (ft. namjoon) ≫ genre/aus infidelity!au, angst, smut ≫ trope enemies to lovers ≫ rating 18+

ONE SHOTS

ROCKSTAR 101 by @jeonjcngkook ≫ pairing jungkook x f.reader ≫ genre/aus rockstar!au, pwp, smut ≫ trope established relationship ≫ rating 18+

THE WEDDING DATE by @jjungkookislife ≫ pairing jungkook x f.reader ≫ genre/aus fake dating!au, angst, fluff, smut ≫ trope fake dating to lovers ≫ rating 18+

THE AUCTION by @jjungkookislife ≫ pairing hoseok x f.reader ≫ genre/aus college!au, smut ≫ trope strangers to lovers (sorta) ≫ rating 18+

HE SO CUTE by @gimmethatagustd ≫ pairing manager!hoseok x idol!reader ≫ genre/aus idol au, pwp, smut ≫ trope coworkers to lovers ≫ rating 18+

YOU MAKE ME NERVOUS by @gimmethatagustd ≫ pairing jimin x reader ≫ genre/aus grad school!au, smut ≫ trope friends-ish to lovers ≫ rating 18+

DIVINE FEMININE by @gimmethatagustd ≫ pairing jungkook x f.reader ≫ genre/aus college!au, smut, fluff ≫ trope friends with benefits ≫ rating 18+

''HEY YOU.'' by @ratedbangtann ≫ pairing jungkook x reader ≫ genre/aus college!au, smut ≫ trope friends to lovers ≫ rating 18+

WANNA MAKE A MOVIE by @gimmethatagustd ≫ pairing taehyung x reader ≫ genre/aus smut, a bit of fluff ≫ trope frenemies to lovers ≫ rating 18+

this list is mostly so i keep track of what i am reading currently but feel free to read what's on the list and remember to show love to these authors by reblogging!

[caelesjjk]

sanguine - jjk- part one

⟶title: sanguine

⟶au: vampire au, arranged marriage au, royalty au

⟶ pairing: vampire king!jungkook x human queen fem reader

⟶ rating: 18+

⟶ genre: romance, kinda slow burn?, smut, angst

⟶wc: 10.5k

⟶warnings: some swearing, mentions of blood, lots of sexual tension, one kiss, a bit angsty, reader is a badass. No smut for this part my fellow horny bitches, but there is certainly smut in the future.

⟶ summary: Marry the vampire king. Save the kingdom.

Your father is the king of a rare human kingdom that has been plagued by famine and sickness. And in a last ditch effort to save the kingdom, he has arranged for you to marry the vampire king to the north. Your hand in marriage in exchange for his help in saving your kingdom.

Everything you swore could never happen between the two of you begins to unfold as you spend more time in the vampire kingdom with its king and his subjects. Can you learn to love this place and it’s beloved ruler?

⟶ authors note: hi friends. this has been a whirlwind of a fic and this is only part one lol. it’s my baby in a way because I’ve had this idea for so long. I started writing it long before my king decided to actually grace us all with his vampire concept for his folio. that only encouraged me more to get this done.

A few shoutouts need to be made because without these people I don’t think I’d ever finished this. @jeonjcngkook jords, not only did you beta the shit out of this, but you’ve been there for me while I’ve written it and listened to me whine and cry for weeks. u have no idea how much it means. @haliiimede for reading through and convincing me that it wasn’t trash and giving me such lovely feedback. And also a huge thanks to @tea4sykes for reading through and encouraging me the whole way, ur the best Kay. @missgeniality siya, you absolute angel, I literally owe you big time for this amazing banner. and thank you for making me a new one when jungkook dropped all the vampire content lol. It’s so stunning.

(Vows found at vampireweddings.blogspot.com)

Alright enough blabbing, please enjoy! Send me all the feedback!

For the good of the kingdom.

For the good of mankind.

That was what your family kept telling you…no, they insisted that this was the only way.

Your father’s kingdom had become wrought with sickness, famine, and the people were starving. All of the resources available had been drained, there was nothing left.

And so, in a desperate plea for help, your father went to the vampire kingdom in the north, with whom your kingdom shared a border. And while the vampire king was willing to help, he wanted to make sure that this alliance was official and binding. He asked that you marry him to join your kingdoms, and that way there would be no reason for any type of betrayal.

You hated the idea. You fought it with everything that you had. The vampires disgusted you with their lust for blood and their strange habits. It was the worst thing you thought could happen.

But your father was right, it was the only choice your kingdom had left, and you had a duty to the people.

With that realization, is how you find yourself under this gorgeous oak tree in the middle of the night. The stars and moon and a few scattered candles are the only light to be found in this open field.

“Welcome one and all, witnesses to both His Highness the King and ______, princess of the human kingdom to our South, as they pledge their dedication to walk the night together. From the night we come, to the night we go, Cursed or blessed to walk the moonlight alone.”

The wedding dress that is chosen for you to wear is dark crimson, a bloody reminder of just who exactly is standing before you. With full lace skirts that drag against the ground, it’s light, airy even. It feels incredibly soft against your skin as your finger tips brush against the fabric but none of that matters as you still feel like you’re suffocating. It’s the absolute opposite of the dress you imagined yourself wearing on your wedding day but it is tradition here in the vampire kingdom for the bride to wear red.

“Sometimes another soul walks our path, Then two become one, in love everlasting. Come forward, Children of the Blood, And welcome this couple to your brood, Within each other, these two are found, Bear witness as their souls are bound.”

The hardest part of this is that it needs to be believable, and at the same time, the subjects from both kingdoms wanted you and the king to hate each other. So the wedding had to be done with official vows, ones that made it sound like the two of you were in love. It makes your stomach churn as the priest continues to speak.

“Please bring your left wrists forward towards me.” The priest said with a soft smile. Though it was gentle, his fangs are still visible, sending a shiver down your spine.

He takes out a red sash from his pocket and gently ties it around both of your wrists, Jungkook’s cold skin brushes against yours and makes you jump slightly. Though it’s as cold as stone, it’s also as soft as cashmere.

Finally, you allow yourself to look up at the man standing next to you.

You hate that he is so beautiful. Possibly the most beautiful being you have ever seen. Soft, thick, black hair slightly smoothed back away from his forehead, eyes almost as black as his tresses and lips that were sharp and hued pink.

When he catches you staring for a bit too long, he merely smirks and turns his attention to you.

“Sorry.” The king mouths to you, no sound coming from his mouth. You look back towards the priest quickly. He holds out a golden goblet beneath your bound wrists.

“Stand now as ye will stand forever, Like this crimson cloth your hearts are tethered, This goblet's contents are your symbols of devotion, So take the rings from the Goblet.”

Your hand shakes violently as you reach into the cup to retrieve the silver band that is to be placed on Jungkook’s right finger. You swallow thickly as you toy with the silver band in between your fingers, your pulse quickening because you know that not only can Jungkook hear the beating sounds of your heart, but all the other vampires present as well. Jungkook does the same with your wedding ring but with more confidence in his motions.

The ring he holds for you is a silver band as well, but it also contains a dark shaded ruby, cut into the shape of a blood drop or possibly a tear in the case of this marriage. But even then, it was stunning.

“______, please repeat these vows after me:

I will stand by your side, hunt at your back, and fly within your Soul. I will stand between you and all which would harm you. I will shield you from the Light of Day with my flesh. I will never betray you, for you are my Heart, my Soul and my Life.”

These vows had been written hundreds of years ago, meant for two vampires binding themselves together…not a vampire king and someone like you who is so very human. But you say them anyway, your heart still hammering in your chest as you turn your body towards the king and take his hand into yours, noticing just how soft his hands are before you slip the ring onto his awaiting finger.

“I will stand by your side, hunt at your back…” You pause when your voice shakes for a moment, “and fly within your Soul. I will stand between you and all which would harm you. I will shield you from the Light of Day with my flesh. I will never betray you, for you are my Heart, my Soul and my Life.”

You place the ring onto his finger and release the breath you have been holding the entire time. Jungkook smiles and takes your hand into his.

“King Jungkook, please repeat the vows to your bride.”

Jungkook waits a moment for you to look up at him, his eyes hold yours and his thumb rubs gently over the back of your hand. You wish you could pull it away…even more, you wish you wanted to pull it away.

“I will stand by your side, hunt at your back, and fly within your Soul. I will stand between you and all which would harm you. I will shield you from the Light of Day with my flesh. I will never betray you, for you are my Heart, my Soul and my Life.” His voice is alluring and even, as if he isn’t nervous about this at all. He slides the ring down your finger and lets it sit perfectly against your warm skin.

The priest hands the goblet to one of his assistants and turns back to the two of you after you’ve both finished.

“Above you are the stars, below you are the stones. As time passes, remember, like the star should your love burn brightly, like the stone should your love be firm. Be close, yet not so close that you restrict one another. Possess one another, yet grant each other the freedom to grow. Be understanding and compassionate, and have patience with each other, for storms may come, but they will quickly pass. Be free in giving affection and warmth. Fear not, lest the ways or words of the unenlightened give you unease.” He clasps his hands over your joined ones before he finishes the last part of the ceremony.

“As both your arms and the cloth form the symbol of eternity, may your love endure through this life and all others. As the Gods and the old ones are witness, with those of us present now, I proclaim them Husband and Wife, and thus are they bonded in Blood. The Two are now one. I present to you the Blood King Jungkook and Queen ______ forever bound, eternally free! You are husband and wife for all eternity. You may now kiss each other to seal your eternal bond of love.” The priest opens his arms and presents the two of you to the guests.

A kiss…was it necessary? Would they believe you if you didn’t kiss him? Would he be able to resist biting you? Would he taste of blood on his lips? So many thoughts plagued your mind in the moments before he cupped your cheek and tilts your face towards his.

“It’s just a kiss.” Jungkook whispered, only loud enough for you to hear. Your eyebrows scrunch together in confusion at his gentle touch.

“One kiss.” You step forward and wrap the arm holding your bouquet behind his back as he leans down to mold his lips against yours.

You weren’t expecting the softness of them, assuming that their appearance would be deceiving. His cool hand on your cheek brings you just the slightest bit closer as your lips brush over his once…twice…three times before your brain catches up with you and you remember who you are kissing.

There are whispers amongst the wedding guests who watch the scene unfold in front of them. Some with disgust. Some with curiosity. However even with the divided opinions in the crowd, they all share the same opinionated attitude. You try to ignore them as best you can.

Your lips separate from his a little too quickly and your hand immediately flies up to cover your mouth and the gasp that escapes you. Jungkook smiles, a flash of fangs when his lips pull back, and gently touches the veil hanging from your head and cascading over your shoulders. He takes your free hand in his and turns you both towards the guests, who clap but don’t seem to be pleased.

“And now the crowns.” The priest turns back to his assistants and picks up the crown that belongs to Jungkook first. The king bends slightly at the waist and the crown is placed gently atop his head.

The crown looks too perfect on him, black and silver metal twisted into spikes with small red gems at the base. It’s as if he has always worn one, perfectly designed with Jungkook in mind. And maybe he has, you don’t know how long he’s been the king after all.

You hadn’t actually seen your crown until this moment. The priest picks it up from a black silk pillow and presents it to you to observe. Like Jungkooks, it too is also made from black and silver metal twisted into even more dramatic spikes. Large, jagged diamonds and rubies cover it in its entirety. It looks ridiculously heavy, and when the priest places it on your head, you find your assumption to be correct. Heavy and cold.

From somewhere nearby, horns and trumpets start to play, signaling the end of the ceremony. Jungkook takes your hand again, and the two of you make your way back down the makeshift aisle your father had nervously walked you down less than an hour ago, and already things feel so different.

You’re quickly whisked away by carriage. The space inside doesn’t feel big enough, you can’t get far enough away from him, but he simply stays on his side of the bench seat and doesn’t move towards you on the ride back to the castle.

Once you’ve arrived, you’re met at the doors by Jungkook's advisor, Namjoon, who you had met a few times beforehand during meetings with Jungkook and your father. He has a kind face, gentle like he could do no harm, but that did not change the fact that he is a still a vampire. Standing next to him is the Captain of the vampire kingdom's army, Yoongi. You had also met him previously, but he doesn’t speak much unless it’s to Jungkook regarding the royal army.

“Did everything go accordingly?” Namjoon asks as the two of you ascend the stairs to the castle.

“It was my wedding, Namjoon, not a transaction.” Jungkook moved to the side and motioned with his hand for you to walk ahead of him through the doors.

“Is that not exactly what this is?” You hear Namjoon say just before you’re inside, Jungkook sighing as he follows.

“He’s right.” You grumble.

“Beg your pardon?” Jungkook says from beside you, his hands clasped behind his back as the two of you walk towards the great hall where the celebration and dinner is being held.

“It wasn’t a real wedding. It’s part of a bargain.” You stop to face him and he does the same, looking at you bewildered.

“Perhaps the circumstances aren’t ideal, but the wedding was real, my queen.” He bows to you, and you’re sure the scowl on your face is as deep as they come.

“Let’s get this night over with.” You grab the skirt of your dress in your fists and begin stomping off towards the great hall. You can hear Jungkook laugh quietly, but you choose to ignore him.

You’re forced to mingle, your hand wrapped through Jungkook's arm as the two of you make rounds through the room. You absolutely despise the whole experience. But soon enough, you’re thankfully seated at the head table and wine is poured into your cup.

You notice that yours and your parents' place settings are the only ones with plates. But of course they would be, no one else in this damned kingdom eats food.

Downing the first glass of wine in one gulp, you signal for an attendant to bring you another one. You can feel Jungkook's eyes on you as you down one glass after another, unable to bring yourself to care about what he could possibly be thinking.

“Do you want any?” You finally ask him after your third glass. A very unladylike hiccup following.

“I think you know the answer to that question already, my queen.” He smiles softly but his jaw is tight with annoyance.

“I’m not your queen.” You say a little too loudly. Some of the guests begin turning their attention to you.

“You have every right to be angry, _____.” Jungkook tries to say under his breath, but you scoff loudly, reaching for the bottle of wine and rudely snatching it from the attendant.

“Angry? That does not even begin to cover it. I am outraged.” You take a swig from the bottle and laugh bitterly. “I am disgusted…and I am not your queen. You and your people are just…fucking vile.” You look up from the bottle of wine to see a look of horror on your father’s face from where he sits at the next table. You know you’ve said too much. You’ve been cruel. “Jungkook…” You start to correct yourself but he cuts you off by standing up from his chair with so much force that it flies back against the wall, causing the guests to look up and stare.

“One thing you are not going to do is insult my people. You can say all the terrible things you want about me, but not them. Not when they’ve given up so much so that your people can live.” He grabs your wrist and pulls you to your feet. “Let’s go.”

“Let go of me.” You try to pull your wrist away, but it’s no use against his inhuman strength. “Release me this instant!” Jungkook continues to pull you towards the door, your legs wobbly from wine and the heels on your feet.

“The evening is over. You need to sleep it off.” He pushes open the door and drags you into the dimly lit hallway.

“I am not sleeping with you!” Even though it’s futile, you scratch and pull at the sleeve of his embroidered jacket.

“As if I’d expect that of you.” Jungkook scoffs and swings you around to face him. He maneuvers your body until you’re pressed against the wall with your arms above your head, one of his hands pinning your wrists there.

“Let go!” You try to kick at him but he dodges every time.

“Whether you like it or not, my queen, this is your home now and these are your people. I have and will continue to do what’s best for everyone involved, including you.” His eyes are almost pitch black, a deep red threatening to spill into the iris’ as he speaks through his clenched teeth.

You must stop forgetting that Jungkook is a monster.

“You know nothing of what’s best for me.” You begin moving to spit in his face, but he knows what you are about to do before you have even finished the thought. His free hand comes up to cover your mouth, leaving you to glare at him without being able to talk.

“Listen carefully, my queen.” The grip on your wrists tightens slightly. “You are not the only one making sacrifices around here. So when you decide you want to act like royalty and not some drunken heathen, by all means come to me.” You jerk around in his hold, you just want him to get the hell away from you. He seems to understand your request as he slowly takes his hand away from your mouth.

“I fear you’ll be waiting a very long time, your highness. Possibly until my death, but I’m sure you’ll find that day ever so joyous.” You use your body weight to push at him once more and he finally releases you, but stays in close vicinity.

“Don’t assume you know anything about what I find joyous.” Jungkook looks over his shoulder towards the guards who are standing near the doorway to the hall. “Escort her majesty to her chambers, she’s not to leave them for the night.” Jungkook straightens his shirt and jacket, and begins making his way back towards the dinner hall.

“You can’t just lock me away! Do you hear me?” One of the guards motions for you to walk towards the opposite hallway.

“No more talking tonight. Go to sleep.” Jungkook says over his shoulder before he disappears into the dinner hall. You scoff loudly, taking off walking as fast as your drunken legs will allow you to go.

“Stupid, ignorant, pig headed blood sucker.” You grumble under your breath as you continue down the hallway. The dim lighting from the candles doesn’t allow you to see much, but you can see there is art on the walls that you would rather enjoy if you were not so pissed off. And if they did not belong to the most ridiculous man you had ever met.

The guards lead you to a winding staircase where you quickly find out that in your drunken state you are unable to climb them unassisted. At the top of the first set of stairs they split, one set going left and the other going right. The guards gesture for you to head to the left.

“And where does the right go?” You ask with a hiccup.

“To the king's chambers.” One of them replies. Jungkook had not been lying, he really had prepared your very own chambers. You reach the doors to your bedroom soon after.

One of the guards opens the door for you to enter the room. You cross your arms over your chest and practically stomp inside, turning around to face them.

“Your king is sadly mistaken if he thinks he can lock me up for the rest of my life. I’d rather die.” You aren’t sure what you expect them to say, but they merely bow before shutting the door.

As soon as it clicks shut, you grab the skirt of your dress into your hands and begin ripping the fabric apart, tossing the pieces around the room.

“Stupid, ridiculous, hideous dress.” You screech, grabbing the sleeves at the shoulders and ripping them apart too. You bend down to grab the heels off your feet, stumbling around before yanking them off and chucking them as far away from you as possible.

Your chest heaves with short breaths as you feel yourself burning with rage. Reaching up into your hair, you hastily pull out as many of the pins holding it into place as you can. You start to walk towards the wardrobe when you catch a glimpse of yourself in the mirror on the far wall. You look like a forest witch. And not the good kind.

Changing your mind about finding other clothes, you begin to notice that there isn’t much in your room. A few vases with fresh flowers and a bed with soft, silky white sheets. There’s a white fur rug at the foot of it and a very large trunk atop that. There’s also a small fireplace in the corner with a few small logs in a basket nearby. The room was otherwise quite empty.

Looking through another set of double doors, you find the washroom. There’s a claw foot tub in one corner with several shelves of soaps and oils on the wall behind it.

As badly as you want to bathe, you need to find ways to protect yourself. Weapons. You need to learn the layout of the castle so that you know where all the exits are at all times. And you also need to find some food. Food in a castle full of creatures who don’t eat it. You sigh loudly, almost tripping over some pieces of your skirt on the marble floor.

Looking down at what's left of your wedding dress on your body is almost laughable. It’s mostly just the bodice and a few pieces covering your lower region in a tattered disarray. You cannot bring yourself to care, this dress was a mistake. It was all a mistake.

You walk out onto the balcony and see a ledge that looks just big enough for you to make your way over to the next room. Wasting no time, you swing your leg over the side, feeling a bit dizzy and suddenly remembering that you’re still quite drunk. But there is no time to sober up now, you have missions to complete.

Still barefoot, you balance onto the ledge and carefully side step your way along the stone. It's only about ten feet from your balcony to the next one.

You get a little too ahead of yourself and almost slip just once, but manage to climb over the railing of the next balcony successfully. You slink over to the window and peer inside, seeing what appears to be an empty guest room. Trying the handle for the doors, you’re overly pleased to find that they are unlocked.

Once inside, you press yourself against the wall and move towards the bedroom door. You pray that once you open it, there will be no vampire guards waiting for you. You have yet to secure a weapon and this might be your only chance to do so when so many of the castle's occupants are still at your wedding reception.

Slowly, you open the door, poking your head outside to see the guards are still occupied with watching over your bedroom door. You silently thank the gods, tip toeing into the hall, you're able to make a mad dash as soon as you’ve rounded the corner and gotten out of the guards sight.

You run until you find the winding staircase that you had come upstairs on. Its familiar shape lets you know that you’re going the right way. Eyes darting from side to side, you descend the stairs, making sure there are no vampires lurking about in the halls.

With absolutely no idea where you are going, you take the hallway to the left, and to your surprise, you smell food. The scent gets stronger and more distinct the further you travel down the hallway. You notice a swinging door, the sounds of clanging pans and a soft voice coming from inside. You brave a peek inside the small round window on the door, the person inside has their back to you for a moment, but when they turn around to face you, you almost cry.

Hoseok.

You shove open the swinging door with all your might, jumping onto a very unsuspecting Hoseok, who screams bloody murder at the sight of you. He almost falls backwards, but catches himself on the corner of the counter.

“Get off of me, witch!” Hoseok yells, reaching for a frying pan in hopes to knock out the creature currently hugging his torso.

“Oh, Hoseok, I’m so happy to see you.” You cry into his chef's coat.

“______? Is that really you?” He grabs your shoulders and moves you back to get a look at you. “My god, it really is you. What the hell happened to you?” He picks up a piece of your dress from the floor that must've fallen off in your rush to get to him.

“How are you here? Why?” You sniffle, tears streaming down your face.

“The king asked me to come stay here and be your chef…since you know, they don’t eat food and you do.” Hoseok pats the top of your head affectionately.

Hoseok is your closest friend. You had grown up together back in your father’s kingdom. His mother had been a long time servant of your parents, the most loyal that you could ask for. Hoseok had inherited that particular trait from her. He began cooking as you got older and soon became one of the best chefs in your kingdom. You were very surprised when you heard your father was so willing to let him go.

“My father let you come? Who will make him those banana pancakes he loves so much?” You laugh, wiping your face so you can get a better look at him, making sure that he’s really here in front of you.

“No, not your father, I meant King Jungkook. He apparently gave your father a rather large sum to make sure that I came here to cook for you.” Hoseok shrugs his shoulders and smiles widely.

“Why would he do that?” You hiss.

“I don’t know, _____. Maybe he just wanted you to be comfortable here.” Hoseok gives you another small hug, then moves around you to continue what he was working on before.

“I find that hard to believe.” You scoff.

“Do you want to explain why the hell you look like a swamp witch?” Hoseok is packaging some food and placing it into the cold room that was filled with ice.

“I…may have gotten drunk at the reception…and got sent to my rooms like a child. And I may have thrown a fit of rage about it.” You plop yourself down on a wooden stool in the corner of the kitchen. You learned a long time ago not to get in his way when he was working.

“You? Throw a fit? Could not imagine such a thing.” He laughs before closing the door to the cold room. “So you haven’t eaten?”

“No. I’m starving Hoseok, please make me food.” You whine to your friend and he rolls his eyes in response.

“You’re lucky I don’t beat you with this plate of food. I made this damn dinner for the reception and they brought your plate back to me untouched? You’re on thin ice my friend.” Hoseok pulls a plate of food from the oven that he had been keeping warm there and sits it in front of you.

“Have I ever told you that I love you?” You don’t bother waiting for him to hand you any utensils as you grab the food with your hands, dismissing the fact that it’s too hot to be eating. You’re too hungry to care.

“One day in the vampire kingdom and you’ve already lost your mind.” Hoseok places a fork beside your plate, but still, you ignore it.

“Do you have knives in here?” Your face lights up, looking around the kitchen.

“I’m a little hesitant to give you any sharp objects right now _____.” Hoseok looks at you with concern reaching his face.

“It’s for protection, Hobi. We’re the only two humans for miles, aren’t you a bit concerned about that?” Your mouth is half full of food as you speak and Hoseok looks disgusted as you stand up and start rifling through his kitchen.

“Of course it’s a little…unsettling. But the king isn’t going to let anything happen to us. Especially you.” Hobi walks behind you, picking things up as you make a mess. You scoff at the last part.

“He cares about me as much as I care about him, which is not at all.” You finally find the drawer that holds the kitchen knives. “Finally! Why didn’t you tell me where they were?”

“Because I think you’re slightly insane.” He puts his hands up in front of him in surrender when you turn around to face him, knife in hand.

“I’m not insane. I’m being…prepared.” You close the drawer and move back towards the kitchen door, peaking out into the hallway through the circular window. You don’t see any movement.

You aren’t sure where to keep this knife if you finally managed to get your hands on, looking around the kitchen for something to use.

“Here, just use this.” Hoseok sighs, handing you a long leather string. “Wrap it around your thigh, that's what all the female warriors do.”

Looking at Hobi inquisitively, wondering how he could possibly know that bot of information, you take the string from his hand and wrap it around your thigh until you can tie it. You’re able to secure the knife between the leather well enough for now.

“Do you even know how to kill a vampire, ____? Is a knife even going to work?” Hoseok crosses his arms over his chest as he looks at you.

“Father told me once that you have to remove their heads.” You don’t look at him, just continue looking into the hallway.

“And a kitchen knife is going to remove a vampire's head!? I’m going to pretend you didn’t get that from me if anyone asks.” Hoseok motions towards your knife with his head before he goes back to cleaning up the mess you had left in your wake.

“I’m going to go look around some more. I’ll come find you later.” You look at him now, as he picks things up off the floor.

“Please don’t.” He teases, crossing the small kitchen to stand in front of you. “Be careful roaming around this castle.”

“I’ll be fine, Hobi.” You wrap an arm around him and he does the same to you, giving each other a much needed hug. He kisses the top of your head before he lets you go.

“Go on then, Blood Queen. I’ll bring you your breakfast in the morning.” He shoos you away.

“Do not call me that.” You glare at your friend. “Eggs and lots of coffee?”

“As you wish.” He rolls his eyes again and you can’t help but smile.

Pushing open the swinging door, you carefully step out into the hallway, keeping your back pressed to the wall as you follow it through the castle.

There isn’t much to see. Some extra bedrooms, one room that looked like a study and one door that had led to a small patio. You mentally mapped that door in your head and hoped you could remember it well enough to write down when you got back to your rooms.

As you approached the end of the hallway you began to hear voices. You knew you should turn around but your curiosity was too much to battle with. So instead, you made your way to the double doors that had been left slightly ajar.

Inside, the room was full of vampires seated at a very long table. Jungkook is sitting at the head of it, his fingers adorned by silver rings, stroking his chin with worry. You aren’t sure how you know that he’s worried, but you just know. Namjoon paces the floor behind him, babbling to no one in particular it seemed. Yoongi, who is sitting to his right, still appears to be his quiet and stoic self. Not much different to how you saw him for the first time.

There are several others present around the table that you do not recognize. But the real question is why are they here instead of attending the wedding reception?

“Is this a threat we need to be prepared for sooner rather than later?” You finally hear Yoongi say, his voice deep and rumbly.

“We knew taking on the human kingdom was going to cause issues with Taehyung. Because not only did you agree to help them, you married the fucking princess.” Namjoon says, distaste thick in his voice.

“They required protection. This was how we gave them that.” Jungkook doesn’t bother looking up, he merely sits back in his chair and crosses his legs.

“At what cost? Why are we paying for their ignorance?” Namjoon continues to pace the floor behind Jungkook's chair.

It surprises you how Jungkook continues to defend your kingdom when he clearly did not have much reason to. It isn’t as if you had married him on happy terms. The only thing he is really getting out of this arrangement is land, and it isn’t like there is much of it to give in the first place. You’ve been so angry that you really had never taken the time to consider that.

“Excuse me for a moment.” Jungkook says, abruptly standing up from his chair.

You feel panic rise up as you notice that he’s heading towards the door that you’re still standing in front of. You look around the hall frantically, seeing a large statue in the corner to your left.

You dash towards it, trying to keep the sound of your bare feet padding across the marble floor as quiet as possible. You hear the door creak open all the way as you fling yourself behind the statue, flopping against the ground with a thud.

“Shit. Shit that hurts.” You whisper, trying to right yourself into a sitting position.

“Has anyone ever told you that you have the mouth of a sailor?” Jungkook is suddenly standing above you, making you jump with fright, banging your head against the statue that had apparently done nothing to hide you from him.

“Has anyone ever told you that it’s rude to just appear out of nowhere like a damn ghost?” You rub the back of your head and manage to get to your feet to stand in front of him. Jungkook scoffs, trying to hold back a laugh.

“What in the world have you done to your dress?” He asks, reaching towards your torn up skirt. Before he can touch them you slap his hand away, making your hand sting at the contact.

“I had a moment. Not that it’s any of your business.” You attempt to smooth out what’s left of the skirts at your waist.

“You look like a swamp witch.” Jungkook can’t help the smile that graces his face and you want to slap it away for being so beautiful.

“I do not!” You shove past him, stomping back down the hallway where you had come from.

“Would you please stop for a moment?” Jungkook calls after you.

“I will not.” You refuse to give him any further satisfaction. He does not seem to take the hint, his footsteps following after you.

You’ve had enough of him for one night. You reach into the band you had made and wrapped around your thigh to hold onto the kitchen knife you had gotten from the kitchen, spinning around and pointing the sharp end of the blade right at Jungkook’s throat, making him stop in his tracks in front of you.

“Where did you get a knife?” Jungkook dares to ask, an eyebrow raised in question.

“That is also none of your business.” You move the knife so close to his throat that the slightest movement could make you cut him.

“Were you keeping that knife strapped to your thigh?” Jungkook's voice lowers as he slowly raises his hands in surrender. You choose not to answer him, only stiffening your stance. “Incredibly violent…” Jungkook smiles and his fangs extend slightly, making you feel bewildered at his reaction.

“Why are you smiling?” You poke the tip of the knife against his skin.

“Because I like that you’re beautifully murderous.” Jungkook is suddenly out of your sight, making you whirl around to find him, only to be pressed roughly against the wall, the hand holding the knife anchored above your head.

“Get off of me!” You move to knee him in the groin but he’s too fast. Inhumanly fast.

“I want you to be a part of this, you know. I want you to help us help your people.” His grip tightens slightly the more you move around.

“Why?” You seethe.

“Because you’re the queen. My partner in this life. Why is that so hard for you to understand?” The look on his face is so sincere that it makes you halt your movements.

“Jungkook…this is not a real marriage. Why are you so convinced that it is?” With one last push, he releases you and takes a step back.

“I’ll spend the rest of my days trying to make you see that it is.” Jungkook tells you with a quiet sigh. “But for the time being, please just come inside and listen to what we’re speaking about. You should be a part of it too.”

You feel the tiniest sliver of hatred melt away from your heart. It makes your chest feel lighter, like you can breathe a little easier. You don’t understand it. You don’t understand him. But you can’t deny that you want to know what’s going on in that meeting room.

“Fine. Let’s go.” You rip your eyes away from his face before it becomes too noticeable that you were looking at him at all.

“Do you perhaps want to change first?” Jungkook asks. “The dress has become rather revealing.”

You glare at him before propping your foot up against the wall, exposing your bare leg to him. You slide the kitchen knife back into the homemade holster on your thigh, adjusting it slightly and letting your foot slip back to the ground as you keep direct eye contact with the vampire king.

“No. I think I’ll attend the meeting just as I am.” You can’t help but smirk a little, pointing your nose to the ceiling before making your way into the meeting room. Jungkook laughs quietly in disbelief, but follows you inside.

All the eyes in the room are suddenly on you. One of the men sitting at the table visibly chokes on air as he watches you walk into the room and takes in your appearance.

“I suggest you get yourself together, Seokjin.” Jungkook walks ahead of you to pull out the chair to the left of his for you.

“Apologies, your highness.” The man named Seokjin splutters slightly, then straightens in his chair.

“Were you attacked, my lady?” Yoongi says, his voice low but still holding a bit of concern.

“No…I was…it's nothing. Don’t let my clothing distract you from the discussion.” You move around the table, choosing to ignore the chair Jungkook has pulled out for you, but instead decide to move to his chair at the head of the table and sit down there. “Shall we?” You ask, a smug look on your face.

“Incredible.” You hear Jungkook mumble under his breath, only meaning for you to hear it, but obviously all the other vampire ears in the room do as well, making everyone shift uncomfortably in their seats.

“Does the queen need to be present?” Namjoon remarks from the seat next to Yoongi.

“Yes, she does. And I won’t hear another thing about it.” Jungkook makes his point clear and moves to sit in the chair he had originally pulled out for you.

“Fine then. We need to start preparing for a war with Taehyung. And we also need to consider that in order to avoid it, we should give up the human kingdom. We don’t need it.” Namjoon is very monotone as he speaks about giving up your kingdom to an apparent enemy.

“Absolutely not.” You say without thought.

“No disrespect, your highness, but I was speaking to the king.” Namjoon dismisses you and you can feel anger start to bubble beneath your skin.

“You say that you mean no disrespect, but you’re sitting there suggesting that we turn over my kingdom, full of innocent people, to your enemy.” You lean forward in your seat, eyebrows scrunched in confusion as you look at the king's advisor.

“I’m not sure you understand the ramifications of going to war with Taehyung, your majesty. He is not to be underestimated.” Namjoon leans forward as well, meeting your gaze with a challenge in his eyes.

“Perhaps someone could explain to me who Taehyung is, and how he has become such a threat to the most powerful kingdom in this realm?” You don’t let your gaze fall from Namjoon’s, challenging him right back.

“If you two are finished with your vicious little disagreement you’ve got going, I would be honored to get the queen up to speed on the situation.” Seokjin says from a few chairs down. His voice makes you look away from Namjoon with a scowl on your face.

“Please. Tell me what you know.” You give Seokjin your attention, ignoring the mumbled curses Namjoon says under his breath.

“Taehyung is the king of the werewolf kingdom to our west, your highness. And I…well I know more than most about werewolves as I myself am one of them.” Seokjin looks up at you then, a golden glow flashing across his eyes when they meet yours.

“I’m confused. If you’re one of them, what are you doing here?” Your curiosity is peaked at this very unexpected bit of information.

“Well you see, my lady, I owe my life to your king. Many, many years ago he had mercy on me and I have pledged my loyalty to him until my dying day.” A smile plays at the corner of Seokjin’s mouth as he looks from you to Jungkook, who also shares the same smile of fondness on his face.

“He saved your life?” You ask, enthralled by this story. A vampire saving the life of a werewolf is unheard of, the two of them becoming friends is even more unheard of.

“He did. And now he has me at his side, even if he wishes I wasn’t at times.” He laughs a little and Jungkook’s smile grows wider.

“You’re too humble sometimes, hyung.” Jungkook says, sharing one last fond smile with Seokjin before he looks back at you. “Seokjin is vital to the way this kingdom is able to live and operate on a daily basis. Don’t let him talk lowly of himself.”

You wish their story wasn’t so endearing. That you didn’t feel a pang of something in your heart for the fondness they share for each other. But no matter how hard you try to bite back your smile, it betrays you, pulling your lips up slightly.

“I am happy to meet you, Seokjin.” You say, sharing one more look with him before the moment is interrupted.

“Could we get back to the point?” Namjoon says, obviously annoyed by the friendly conversation. Why was he so frumpy?

“Of course. My apologies.” Seokjin sits back in his chair with a small bow of his head.

“Has anyone ever told you that you’re a sour puss?” You say to Namjoon, almost causing Yoongi to choke on a laugh.

“My lady, this is not a joke. If you’re insistent on being involved, I beg you to take this seriously.” If Namjoon could blush, you suppose he would be at this point.

“I’m listening.” You roll your eyes a bit and turn to Jungkook, who is watching you with a smirk on his face.

“Taehyung isn’t happy about this…union. He believes your land should be his and we are almost positive he isn’t going to sit back and let it go.” Yoongi takes the initiative to explain this time.

“And for now, as I’ve said before, we double the guard at the border but we don’t engage. I’m not starting a war without reason.” Jungkook speaks now, everybody forwarding their attention to him. “And perhaps we need to set up a meeting with Taehyung.”

“A meeting? What do you hope to come of that, your majesty?” Namjoon looks with disbelief on his face.

“I’m avoiding a war at all costs. I won’t bring unnecessary danger to either of the kingdoms.” Jungkook stands up. “And this discussion is over for now. I’m sure the queen would like to sleep.” You nod, quickly being able to tell that Jungkook is done talking for tonight.

You stand from the table, bowing to the others who stand at the same time as you do to bow deeper in your direction. Jungkook motions for you to walk ahead of him with his hand as you take one last look over your shoulder at the men sitting at the table. More monsters than men…but it was easy to forget such a thing.

“I’m glad you joined us.” Jungkook's voice startles you from your thinking.

“Yes well…I won’t let anything happen to my people. We can’t just throw them to the wolves.” You hope he detects the seriousness in your voice.

“I hope that you can see that isn’t my intention. It never was.” Jungkook walks next to you, his arms crossed behind his back.

“As long as that is clear.” You reach the bottom of the stairs that lead up to your separate bed chambers, stopping on the bottom step and turn to look at Jungkook.

“Loud and clear, my queen.” Jungkook steps up closer and you almost trip over the step trying to create space. “Where is the knife now?”

“It will be in your chest if you do not step away from me.” You growl through your teeth, making Jungkook grin wickedly, fangs appearing under his lip.

“Beautiful and violent. Where have you been all my life, darling?” Jungkook steps up onto the stairs, making you stumble up a few more to get distance.

“You’re some kind of masochist, aren’t you?” You put your hand down onto the handle of the knife. Jungkook throws his head back in laughter. The sound is…certainly not what you expected. He seems so human as he laughs and tries to compose himself.

“Would you like to find out?” He takes one more step up towards you and you’ve had enough.

You lift your bare foot from the wooden stair and press it into the middle of his chest as he stands two steps down from you. You watch Jungkook's eyes as they take in what is happening, roaming over the exposed skin of your legs and thigh.

“Stop flirting with me.” You push slightly against his chest with your foot. “It’s very annoying.”

“Your heart is beating so quick, I’m not sure that you mean that.” Jungkook says in a low tone. The sound of his deep voice tries to pry its way between your thighs, but you won’t let it. “I think you rather like it, actually.”

“You’re not amusing, your highness.” You try to remain unfazed.

“You can’t lie to me. I can hear the blood rushing through your veins…and your breath struggling to even out.” Jungkook tries to take a step up but you push him back down with your foot.

“You’re delusional. Whatever you are hearing is simply because I am fending off a vampire, not because I find that vampire to be maddeningly beautiful.” You wish you had said that differently…surely he will know you’re lying now.

“Why do you fight it?” He questions.

“Fight what?”

“The attraction between us.”

“Because there isn’t any. None. It is nonexistent.” You shove your foot into his chest once more but he doesn’t budge of course.

“Liar.” Jungkook says quietly, you can feel his breath on the skin of your leg. His cool fingers come up to ghost over the skin of your ankle, allowing goosebumps to find home on your skin as your body betrays you even more. “Shall we test your theory?” Fingers continue their featherlight touch up your calf.

“You’re…it’s not affecting me at all.” Your voice shakes slightly as you fight to keep your eyes open.

“More lies, my queen.” When his fingers get to the inside of your thigh, your brain suddenly remembers what’s happening. You kick him in the chest with more force and Jungkook stumbles slightly, giving you a chance to jog up a few more stairs before you speak to him again.

“No more of your unrequited flirting. And especially touching. None of that.” You yell down to him, wishing you could smack the grin on his face.

“As you wish.” He bows to you.

“Goodnight, your highness.” You pull the knife out of your holster and point it towards him as you back your way up the rest of the stairs, making Jungkook laugh out loud again. You don’t look back this time as you dash your way down the hall to your bed chambers where the two guards are still standing. “I’ll be going to bed now.” You huff past them and into the room as quickly as possible.

You press your back against the cool wood of the door, trying to catch the breath you had not realized were holding . He was absolutely infuriating. Ridiculous. Egotistical. And yet… soft and endearing at times. Like when he was speaking to or about Seokjin. It is something you never expected to see.

Looking down at your hand, you see the wedding ring he had given you just a few short hours ago. Shaped like a drop of blood and every bit the color of it. You had forgotten all about it and now you aren’t sure you wanted to take it off. You and this ring have been through a lot already.

Finally, you bring yourself to move towards one of the tall armoires on the other side of the room. Perhaps it’s time to finally change out of your tattered wedding dress.

You look through some drawers until you finally find some silky night shorts and matching camisole. It seems revealing for pajamas, but you also don’t have the energy to keep digging for something else.

With a sigh, you head into the bathroom and make a beeline for that glorious claw foot tub in the corner of the room. You look around and notice the gold crusted faucets at one end of the tub.

Running water. The vampire kingdom had running water for baths. This was not a luxury that you had back in your human kingdom.

“Something decent has come from this.” You mumble to yourself as you turn on the faucets and watch the crystal clear water start to fill the basin of the tub. You grab one of the first glass bottles of soap that you can reach, breathing in its scent and finding it to be lavender. A scent you missed about the gardens in your father’s kingdom. You pour a plentiful amount into the stream of water and watch the bubbles begin to form and you can’t help but smile.

Stripping out of what’s left of your wedding dress, you toss it away and carefully step into the tub. The water is so warm already, instantly loosening your tired muscles and cleanssng your dirty skin. It felt like heaven.

Once the tub has filled you turn off the faucets and sink down into it. You let your head dip beneath the bubbles, letting it washclean your hair and , making it easier to pull the rest of the pins out of it.

It’s quiet in this washroom. Almost too quiet. So you decide not to dawdledauddle for too long, getting yourself cleaned up and grabbing a robe from one of the hanging hooks on the wall.

Making your way back into your bed chambers, you dress into the pajamas you had found earlier and climb into the bed. You feel alone all at once. Too alone with your thoughts.

How would your life play out now that you’re here? Married. To the king of vampires. Jungkook. The blood king.

You want to know more. Need to know more about him and this place.

In order for you to do that, you have to change your sleeping schedule. You need to be awake at night when everyone else is awake.

It took some time for you to get used to but after a couple of weeks you are able to get up and join the vampires during their meetings regarding Taehyung.

You are also able to explore the castle and its grounds more thoroughly. Finding it full of vast libraries and art from different centuries…different worlds it seemed.

Most recently though, you had discovered the gardens. Gardens that had been somewhat neglected by visitors if you were being honest. They were clean and well kept, but they were mostly empty. Not many flowers and things to fill all the spaces in between the manicured bushes and small trees. You wondered if it was because no one could come out during the day to care for them. And the more you thought about it, the sillier it seemed.

You love walking around outside nonetheless. Sitting on the stone benches and watching the fountains. But your urge to do more is constantly bouncing around in your mind.

Tonight, you find yourself changing into a pair of leggings and an oversized sweater. You had decided you were going to start digging around in the gardens, whether it is something a queen should do or not, you didn’t care. It would busy your mind and give you something productive to do.

“Where are you off to?” Hoseok calls behind you as you make your way to the back doors.

“To the gardens. I think I’m going to start digging around. Maybe plant some new things.” You turn to see the bright smile on his face. One of the few bright things here.

“There are groundskeepers for that, you know?” Hoseok teases as he approaches you, taking in your very unqueenly outfit.

“I am aware, Hobi. But I’m bored and I need to find something to occupy my time.” You wave him off with a sigh.

“Do you know where the gardening equipment is?” Hoseok asks, hands moving to his hips as he looks at you expectantly.

“Well…no. But I assume that you do?”

“Perhaps. What’s in it for me?” He continues to tease.

“I’m the queen, you have to tell me if I ask.” Your arms cross over your chest.

“Oh now you want to be the queen? Only when it benefits you, I see.”

“Come on, Hoseok, pleeeeease?” You’re growing tired of his antics.

“Let me use your bathtub twice a week, and I’ll tell you where it is.” He puts his hand out for you to shake.

“As if I would deny you that bathtub.” You laugh a little and shake his hand. “Come on then, to the gardening tools.” You jump onto his back as he turns around to lead the way, making him carry you.

“I don’t remember carrying your spoiled ass around being in my new job description.” Hobi laughs, adjusting you on his back so he can walk with more balance.

“It’s in your best friend job description, check your paperwork.” You place your chin on his shoulder and squeeze your legs tighter around his middle.

“Ridiculous.” He laughs louder, making his way towards the back doors to show you where to find the gardening tools.

Hoseok takes you to a small building outside the castle, inside of which are plenty of gardening tools for you to get started with your plans. He doesn’t stick around though, making his way back to the castle to finally get some sleep. Hobi is having a harder time adjusting to the new sleep schedule than you had.

With your arms full of shovels, rakes, and other tools you may or may not need, you find an area near the fountains that you plan to start with. The dirt in this area seems a bit dry and sad looking, so you think if you dig into the soil, you’ll be able to bring the good dirt to the top.

You spend a few hours tilling the soil and sure enough, it already looks so much better than it did before. And even though autumn is in full swing and you’re working by the light from the moon, you’re still a bit sweaty.

“I think digging your way out of here may be a bigger task than you bargained for.” A now familiar voice says from behind you, making you jump at the sudden sound.

“Will I have to live out the rest of my days here wondering when the next time you’ll give me a heart attack will be?” You place your hand over your hammering heart while Jungkook smiles.

“Apologies, my queen.” Jungkook walks closest to where you’re kneeling on the ground, his hands behind his back. “What is it that you’re doing exactly?”

“I’m gardening. Is that not obvious?” You sit the small shovel down and wipe your hands off on your thighs.

“Yes. But why?” He asks curiously.

“Something to do? A hobby? I’m tired of wandering around this castle like a ghost.” You look up at him when he comes to stand next to you. “Is that something I’m allowed to do, your highness?”

“You’re rather snarky for a queen.” Jungkook smiles again, the sharp points of his fangs showing behind his lips.

“I have been called much worse.” You huff, standing up from the ground, wobbling slightly from being in that position a bit too long.

Jungkook is inhumanly fast, gently steadying you on your feet. One hand on your hip and the other on your shoulder. His skin is so cold it sends a shiver through you, goosebumps covering your warm skin.

“So long as you’re here, no one will dare to call you anything less than you deserve.” His eyes are almost black as they meet yours. “Are you okay to stand?”

You shake away the trance you feel when you look at him, stepping back slightly and out of his hold.

“Yes, I’m fine.” You awkwardly stumble over the shovel on the ground, righting yourself before Jungkook has a chance to try and help you again. “Thank you.”

“Shall I help you with this?” He asks, bending to pick up one of the rakes.

“Oh…that’s not necessary, I can manage.”

“I’m well aware that you can manage. But would you like some help…and some company?”Jungkook almost looks shy as he asks. “I think it would be good for us to spend more time together.”

You aren’t sure what to say. Part of you despises the thought of spending time with him. But a bigger part tells you that you long to know him more. To hear his infuriating tone when he teases you.

“Fine. But you start over there, and don’t crowd me.” You point towards an area a few feet from the one you had been working on. Jungkook laughs quietly.

“As you wish, my queen.” He bows at the waist and makes his way over.

“I’ve asked you several times to stop calling me that.” You sigh, pushing some hair away from your face before you continue tilling the soil.

“Why does it bother you so much?” Jungkook gets down to his knees, the brown slacks he is wearing meeting the dirt.

“I am not a vampire, Jungkook. Being the Blood Queen seems like I’m pretending to be something that I’m not.” It bothers you. All those vows that you took about protecting each other are just lies.

“You don’t need to be a vampire to be the queen here. No matter what you hear or what you think, you only need to try and understand.” Jungkook’s quick hands are making much faster work of things than yours ever could.

“Understand what?” You ask.

“Will you let me show you some time? It will be much easier to show than to try and explain it in so many words.”

You don’t understand what he means, but the look on his face tells you that he’s sincere in what he says. And even though you should probably say no, you’re too curious not to indulge him.

“Okay.” You simply state. Jungkook smiles softly and continues his digging.

Another week passes, and Jungkook joins you out in the gardens every night. He brings you new tools to use and lists from the florists in the kingdom so that you can pick out flowers to plant wherever you please. You choose as many as you can find that grow at night, because though they carry all the usual things that flourish in the day time, you know you won’t get to enjoy them as much as you will the ones who bloom at night.

You spend hours in the many libraries within the castle researching the plants and what they need to live well at night. Jungkook joins you there often, following you through the stacks of books and listening to you babble on and on about the flowers.

As much as you wish you didn't enjoy his company, as much as you don’t want to be fond of the sound of his voice, you are very much beginning to.

“_____?” Jungkook says quietly, closing the book that you’re holding in your hands. He doesn’t call you by your first name often, it’s a strange feeling that follows it.

“What is it?” You slide the book back onto the shelf in front of you, turning your attention to him.

“Would you please do me the honor of accompanying me into the kingdom tomorrow night?” His hands are behind his back as he speaks, stepping closer to where you’re standing.

“May I ask why?” You try to pretend his close proximity does not affect you. Jungkook is still a vampire after all.

“I told you I would help you to understand why being human does not mean you cannot be the queen here.” Jungkook brings a hand from behind his back and reaches out gently, brushing your fingertips with his.

“What are you going to show me, Jungkook?” You slowly pull your hand back from his touch, making him smirk at your stubbornness.

“Everything, darling.”

[sugarwithtea]

MILESTONE CELEBRATION!!

➳ SUGARWITHTEA MILESTONE DRABBLE GAME

This blog hit a major milestone a few days ago, all thanks to you guys. I have mostly missed all the previous milestones, but this one is pretty big for me and I was so excited for it. So, we are celebrating!!!!

A big thank you to each and every one of you for being with me and supporting me. Even if it was just a like, a comment, a follow or an amazing reblog, you helped me a lot.

To celebrate with y'all, I'll be opening up my requests for drabbles for the next two weeks ;)

➳ RULES

The requests are meant to be sent by asks.

Any genre is allowed. Please note that to request smut, you need to be off anon.

You can use the following prompt lists if you'd like to -> angst | smut 1, smut 2 | fluff 1, fluff 2

You can also send in pictures or songs as writing prompts.

You can mention the member you'd like me to write for. Or else you can leave it up to me :) Whatever works best for you <3

My requests will stay open till 25th November. (i have the liberty to change the date)

A list of what I won't be writing

➳ yandere

➳ pedophilia

➳ rape / dub-con sex

➳ topics which can hurt any race, gender, sexuality, caste, etc.

➳ abuse of any kind by the main characters

➳ MUTUALS ♡

Here's a list of all my mutuals (in alphabetic order). Thank you so much!! You guys have helped me the most ♡

@apotatomashedbybts @astronaut-jin-moon @bebejungkook @breakiebunny @btsgotjams27 @btsstan12 @caelesjjk @chaoticabstractism @cherrysoulth @chimchimmarie @chryblossomjjk @daechwitatamic @delugguk @gimmethatagustd @haliiimede @hearts4joon @here2bbtstrash @here4btsfics @hobipost @jeonjcngkook @jeonsweetheart @jimilter @jiminzfilter @jinastronaut @jjkeverlast @jjksblackgf @junsai-tree @kithtaehyung @kookslastbutton @lvoekook @matchstick6812 @meirkive @minniesvenus @moonleeai @monvante @namjooningelsewhere @oddinary4bts @pamzn @parkdatjimin @pasteljoonie @pjiminbloomx @pjmparadise @playmetheclassics @prodagustd @ratherbefangirling @rkivian @saweetspoiled @sevenpersona @skyfull0fstories @ssaboala @sunshinerainbowsbts @taehyungssss @taesfile @temptaetions @the-boy-meets-evil @thesleepingmoonfox @yoongukie-ff

I am so sorry if I forgot to tag you but please know I really respect and adore you ♡

[here4kpopfics]

I’m late to the party, but HAPPY FANFIC WRITER APPRECIATION DAY, BBS.

I’ve been running around town all day helping my sister get prepped for marching band season and I’m pooped and have tried writing something that wasn’t like major sappy but also not generic while in the car but idk. I didn’t like it, but this is an important day and y’all deserve to be acknowledged so let’s go. Also sorry for the obscene amount of “y’all”s. It’s what I do. 

I feel like I’ve talked about it enough, but I was on here from like 2009 - 2015 or 16? And a lot of drama happened and I stopped writing and reading altogether. The fucking difference between then and now in the writing community is night and day. Y’all are some of the most supportive people I’ve ever come in contact with and it fills me with so so so much joy to see how much everyone cares about one another and how you interact with your readers and you can see that connection is what makes you better writers. 

I started this blog with the full intention of lurking and just reblogging fics to be able to find them again later and no interactions. But somewhere along the way, I made friends with some of y’all? And some of you actually not only inspired but actually encouraged me to get back into writing?? And then continued to support the writing I did after? And I’m so fucking thankful for it? Like what? Back then, you’d be judged so fucking harshly for shit like that. It’s mind-boggling. 

I just wanted to say how much I love all of you. Whether we actively talk, are moots, friends, or even if I’m just a little reader/another number to you. I love you with all my heart and I hope you only ever write for fun and never feel pressured to do something you love. I’ll fight all your asshole anons for you. And I will always be here to inflate your ego or boost your confidence if needed. Keep being amazing. 💜

*if you’re not on this list, you are, you’re just not seeing it. I love you. I’m just forgetful and silly. 😘*

@chryblossomjjk @gimmethatagustd @haliiimede @jungk0oksthighs @sunshinerainbowsbts @bebejungkook @minniesvenus @sugakookitty @btsrunmylife @bonvoyagenoona @adonis-koo @hisunshiine @mercurygguk @here2bbtstrash @taegularities @jimilter @parkdatjimin @ughcore @yoon-kooks @personasintro @kpopfanfictrash @aquagustd @jeonfrvr @jkstompers @sxtaep @kithtaehyung @taleasnewastime @jjkeverlast @suga-kookiemonster @shina913 @floralseokjin @xpeachesncream @chateautae @borathae @taetaespeaches @delugguk @thvhoe @jeonjcngkook @sugarwithtea @whatifyoulivelikethat @jjungkookislife @btsgotjams27 @btssmutgalore @jeonqkooks @adore-min @jeonstudios @euphor1a @taestefully-in-luv @bts-bay-bee @amethystwritesbts @raplinesmoon​ @readyplayerhobi​ @kth1​

[jjkeverlast]

MILESTONE CELEBRATION!

HI, OKAY WHAT THE FUCK????? i just woke up to my first ever big milestone, i am deeply honored to all of you for wanting to follow me, interact with me and read my stories! <3 it brings such warmth and comfort to me, so i thank you so so much <3

i actually was in doubt of what exactly to do for this, but i've come to the conclusion that i'll be taking upon requests from you if you have anything in mind! :))

although, there are some rules i'd like to apply for this to go well!

send in your requests on ask! i have some prompts lists here, if any of you need some inspiration: (smut) - (fluff) - (angst) !!

make sure to mention which member you'd like, or if you don't really care i'll pick for you!

keep notice that i will not write your request, if it either makes me uncomfortable or if you're an anon requesting a smut drabble! i need to make sure you are above the age of 18+ and i need to able to see it, for example in your bio!

i will try my best keeping the drabbles at 1k... we'll see how that goes.

under the 'keep reading' cut, i'm mentioning the people that have made tumblr such a fun and loving platform for me, i'm eternally grateful for all of you <3

@gimmethatagustd @haliiimede @here2bbtstrash @kookiecrumb @meirkive @lookingforluna @allorareverz @pjiminbloomx @delugguk @sxtaep @yoongukie-ff @armys-dna @btsstan12 @milkykookiesworld @sugarwithtea @btsarmyakasammy @parkdatjimin @hobipost @vkookx @gukqi @jeonqkooks @7deadlysinsfics @jeonjcngkook @helenazbmrskai @rkivian @angelseokjinnie @bebejungkook @smasmashie @seokjinger-ale @kimvvantae @mygooie0 @namfinessed @moonleeai @breakiebunny @jeonspub @highly-functioning-mitochondria @minniesvenus @daechwitatamic @btsgotjams27 ♡

cheers to you guys, for interacting, supporting and loving !

[theharrowing]

15 things that make me happy 💕

1. my cat

2. the feeling of falling asleep

3. songs with good memories attached

4. seeing spiders and insects in the wild (especially bees, beetles, butterflies, and orb weavers!)

5. hearing a song for the first time that instantly connects

6. the sense of accomplishment that comes with remembering a word/phrase/grammar point in whatever language i’m studying at the time

7. a nice, warm hug

8. weather and the changing of seasons

9. traveling somewhere new

10. the energy of a crowd at a concert

11. images of space

12. images of the deep sea

13. being reminded of something happy that happened to me (my memory is shit! thx trauma!)

14. the connection i feel with those of you who read my writing

15. the connection i feel with those of you whose writing i read

thank you @btsstan12 for tagging me! 🥰💜 (i miss seeing you around, darling sprout, and i hope you’re taking care!!)

tagging a whole mess of you, to spread happiness. if i’ve missed you, do this anyway and tag me so i can see! @haliiimede @here2bbtstrash @gimmethatagustd @goodsoop @rapline-heaux @eserethriddle @blog-name-idk @madbutgloriouspond @purplewhalewrites @yoongimingyu @1dsn @neoneunnajimin @colormepurplex2 @miscelunaaa @sunshinerainbowsbts @random-and-out-of-context @btsrunmylife @matchstick6812 @moonleeai @purpleoceanmama @vanillacupcakefrosting

[chans-room]

ITS @haliiimede’s BIRTHDAY TODAY SO EVERYONE GO YELL NICE THINGS AT HER 💖

Hali I am so glad I met you this year, not only bc your writing makes me feel the forbidden shrimp emotions more often than not — but also bc I’m so glad that you’re my friend 🖤✨

I’m also writing you something for your birthday but I’m a mess who can’t stick to deadlines so it will be late 💔

ANYWAY ILY I HOPE YOURE HAVING A GOOD DAY AND HAPPY 29 BABES ✨🎉

[sailoryooons]

Suga's How-To Guide | Masterlist | myg (m)

☾ Pairing: Camboy!Yoongi x f. reader 

☾ Summary: Min Yoongi has been a cam boy for a few years now. The work is easy, the money is good, and he has loyal viewers. When he approaches you and asks if you want to be his muse for a ‘how-to’ series, your view on the infamous Yoongi changes.

☾ Word Count: 25,083

☾ Genre: friends to lovers, pwp

☾ Rating: 18+ Minors are strictly prohibited from engaging and reading this content. It contains explicit content and any minors discovered reading or engaging with this work will be blocked immediately. 

☾ Disclaimer: All members of BTS are faces and name claims for this story. This is entirely a work of fiction and by no means is meant to be a projection, judgment or representation of real-life people. Any scenarios or representations of the people and places mentioned in works are not representative of real-life scenarios.

Masterlist | Ask | Part of Hali’s Happy Agust

One: Tr(eat) Them Right

→ Min Yoongi gives you an appealing proposition: You've never cum from oral, he happens to have a how-to series featuring it. It's an offer you can't refuse - right?

Two: Buzzed

→ When Yoongi asks you for another oral feature - this time with a newly added element - who are you to say no?

Three: Mouthful

→ Getting over your fear of your face being on camera is easy when you have a mouthful of Min Yoongi

Four: Interlude One

→ Yoongi proves that the camera doesn't have to be on to hangout.

Five: Solo

→ Yoongi has to fly solo for tonight's session, but it doesn't mean he's not thinking about you.

Six: Interlude Two

→ You come to a conclusion on how you feel about Yoongi. Hopefully, he's in a forgiving mood.

Seven: Play

→ Yoongi wants to play with you a little for the camera.

[here2bbtstrash]

the shape of your body (explicit)

genre: fluffy slowburn smut

pairing: jimin x reader

summary: the same day you finally manage to speak to your months-long public transit crush, you end up seeing much more of him than you bargained for.

word count: 24k 🙇‍♀️

contains: explicit sexual content~*~ (after a slow burn lmao) - new york city grad school AU, strangers to lovers, reader is an art student, public transit thirsting, jimin is a dancer and a nude model, namgi and vhope as side characters, basically everyone is gay (they're ART STUDENTS in NEW YORK CITY it's called realism 💅), a smidge of member x member side character relationships, jimin is biromantic demisexual 👀, conversations about body image issues/past relationship struggles/demisexuality and libido, soooo much making out, a couple "failed attempts" at sex, accidental voyeurism (but not how you think lmao YOU'LL SEE), showering together non-sexually, and: fingering, clit stim, nipple play, come eating/sharing 🤭 an attempted blowjob, face sitting, & protected sex (multiple rounds 🥵)

A/N: asjdshgkdfjgs i can't believe it's done 😭 there were so many times i thought i would never finish this fic !!! i have too many friends to thank for talking me off of SEVERAL ledges where i was convinced this whole thing was trash and that i should just stick to short porn or perhaps simply never write again. i'm so glad i saw this one through because there are concepts in here that are deeply important and personal to me wehhh 🫠 i sincerely hope y'all enjoy this one!! thank u for enduring mostly radio silence while i was in jimin lockdown, and of course, happy early birthday to mini, the light of my mf life 🥰💜 (oh and LDOMLT ch 8 is coming next so buckle tf up bitches 👀)

an eternity of smooches to @haliiimede for beta reading and just generally being the best fucking person on planet earth ✨ AND TO @goodsoop FOR THE DEMI SENSITIVITY READ VERY SORRY THAT I AM THE WORLD'S LARGEST IDIOT AND FORGOT TO CREDIT..... i love you both 🥺

read on AO3!

~*~

You’ve taken the subway thousands of times since moving to New York.

Morning rides, squeezed nearly to death between commuters in suits blinking back sleep and school-uniformed kids scream-laughing and paper coffee cups gripped tight by winter-numb fingers.

Long trips with your sketchbook on your lap, riding the line all the way to Pelham Bay Park and back, to surface above ground out where there’s a little more space to breathe, until the setting sun floods orange glow between the buildings just before you descend again.

Late nights coming home, Namjoon’s head thudding back against the train window behind him as he dozes off, one arm thrown around your shoulder to ward off any drunk creeps, his free hand interlaced with Yoongi’s on his other side.

It’s always been the three of you, first in friendship, and now that the two of them have figured out they’re something more, you don’t mind it. But when it’s late and you’ve had enough drinks to feel warm all the way through, to melt something open inside of you, and you glance over to see a loving flicker of eyelashes exchanged as Namjoon leans down and presses a kiss to Yoongi’s temple, you can’t help it.

There’s a little bit of an ache there, right behind your ribs. Sometimes.

But mostly, when it comes to the train, you take the 6 to school. You go through the motions this morning the same as you always do: headphones around your neck, bag slung over your shoulder, immediately dropping into the first empty seat you see as the train doors shudder closed and the car starts to move. Six stops down, 51st street to Astor Place, five days a week, you know it like a heartbeat.

You just wish you knew him, too.

Subway Boy, as Yoongi affectionately labeled him the time you got two pitchers of margaritas deep and made the mistake of confessing to your roommates about your crush— if it can even be called that. Can you truly have a crush on someone you know nothing about, not even their name?

Well, you know a few things.

He must live further north than you, because on the days you see him, he’s already on the train when you board at 51st.

He must like music, because he always has a set of fancy bluetooth earbuds in.

You’re pretty sure he’s an athlete of some sort, because he’s usually carrying a gym bag—and because during this summer’s heat wave, the one and only time you’ve seen him wear shorts, you nearly fainted at the thick, defined muscles of his thighs.

He has an affinity for jewelry, delicate silver always glinting through the multiple piercings in his ears. At odds with this, he seems to prefer to dress comfortably, and you’ve seen him in enough branded school t-shirts and sweats to figure he must also be an NYU student, though you can’t say for sure if he’s undergrad or graduate.

You deeply hope you’re not crushing on someone who still needs a fake ID to drink, but there’s no way to be certain.

Most importantly, you know that he is absolutely stunning. Elegantly handsome, with expressive deep brown eyes, skin like glass, and round cheeks and full lips that flush frozen pink on particularly frigid New York days. His hair has changed colors a few times over the months that have passed since you first took notice of him, but it’s currently a honey blonde, and long enough that he often reaches up to card a hand through it. He does it now, pushing loose strands back to expose his forehead as he frowns down at his phone.

On days where you share the same car, you notice very little else that happens on the ride, thoroughly entranced in Subway Boy’s beauty and his mystery. The train could probably catch fire and you’d miss it entirely.

Today happens to be one of those days, and excitement glitters in your bloodstream as you realize he’s seated across from you. The rush of seeing him always feels like its own reward, some kind of cosmic sign that the day is going to be a good one.

And then the train stops moving.

There’s an audible reaction from a few people in the car, and you glance up a moment later when a voice buzzes over the intercom. You’re able to make out “attention passengers” and very little after that, just the basics about some sort of unforeseen interruption of service and that the train should resume moving again soon.

You sigh, knowing very well that the MTA’s definition of ‘soon’ does not often align with typical human expectations. Figuring you’ve got some time to kill, you reach into your bag to retrieve your sketchbook and the first pencil you can dig out of the bottom.

“What did they say?” A voice, quiet and deep, surprises you before you can even flip to your in-progress page.

You glance up to find Subway Boy staring at you, forearms braced on his knees as he leans forward into the gap between his seat and yours. He’s got one bluetooth earbud pinched between his fingertips and a confused look on his face, having clearly missed the announcement.

Heat floods your face at the feeling of his eyes fixed on you, and it takes you a second to form a response. “Uh— I didn’t get most of it. Something about unforeseen interruption. And that we’ll be moving again soon.”

A muscle works in his jaw as he rolls his eyes. “Typical.”

“I don’t think they know what ‘soon’ means,” you murmur, mostly to yourself as you tear your gaze away from Subway Boy and return to the sketchbook in your lap, rifling through to find your latest half-finished drawing. When you hear him huff a laugh, you have to bite down on the hopeful smile that threatens to shine across your face.

“Definitely not.”

You force yourself to keep your eyes on the page, assuming Subway Boy must go back to his music when he falls silent after his last comment.

With featherlight flicks of your pencil, you start to add a little depth to the quick study you were working on last night, Yoongi’s half-peeled tangerine that he left abandoned on the coffee table when he stepped out onto the fire escape for a smoke.

Subway Boy’s voice catches you off guard a second time. “Are you drawing?”

You bite down on your lip again, a nervous habit, and you nod as you tilt the page so he can see from across the car.

“Wow.” You wonder if you’re imagining the way his voice seems to soften a little. “You’re really good. Are you an artist?”

You can’t help it— your gaze flits up to meet his again. It’s nearly overwhelming to lock eyes with your Subway Boy and hear him compliment you, like something out of a wild daydream. “I guess so,” you remark, the corner of your mouth tugging up into a small smile as you say it. “I’ve certainly paid NYU enough money in my attempts to become one.”

“Know the feeling,” he scoffs, but his eyes smile back, pulled into crescent moons.

“What did you pay them for?”

“Currently, a dual MFA/MA in dance and… teaching dance. Really went all-in on the dancer thing.”

“Oh.” Your eyes widen automatically. You’ve wondered— and yes, occasionally drunkenly speculated with your roommates— what Subway Boy’s line of work might be, but you have no idea why dancer never occurred to you. Because now all the pieces suddenly fall together in front of you: the toned muscles that flex beneath the sleeves of his t-shirt, the natural grace he exudes, not to mention his perfect posture.

Of course he’s a dancer. It makes perfect sense.

It occurs to you, a beat too late, that a wide-eyed ‘oh’ is not the most normal response to a truly innocuous answer to a question asked of a random stranger.

But the smile in his eyes doesn’t falter. “I feel like I see you on this train a lot.”

Your stomach flutters like butterfly wings, and you have to look away, back down to the safety of your sketchbook. “Really?”

There’s an extra pause before he speaks again. “Man, sorry. Think I misread that. Now I feel creepy. I promise I’ve only noticed you a normal amount.” Your eyes snap back up to find him wincing slightly, one hand rubbing at the back of his neck.

“No, no, I’m— it’s not—” you stammer, trying to recover. “I, uh— me too, I have too. Noticed you. A normal amount. I… I don’t know why I just pretended like I didn’t.”

Subway Boy leans forward, head dropping down with a genuine laugh that shakes his shoulders, and you can’t help but laugh too, out of sheer embarrassment. He’s beaming when he rights himself again, and it sends a thrill buzzing through you, all the way down to your fingertips still clutched tight to your pencil.

“That makes me feel better,” he admits. “At least we’re both creepy.”

As if the universe itself is intervening to save you from any further humiliation, the train shudders back to life and begins to move again. The sigh you breathe is a strange mixture of relief and disappointment.

“That’s definitely a new record,” you say shyly as you move to shove your things back in your bag. “Maybe the MTA actually looked up what ‘soon’ means.”

His focus is tracked over your shoulder when you look up again, and his eyes dance left to right to chase the patterns in the subway tile as you pull into the next station.

“Guess it’s a miracle,” he says softly, not making eye contact.

“Must be,” you murmur back, letting your gaze drop to the floor, unable to hide your smile now.

He doesn’t say anything else, and neither do you, but the warm flush stays in your face for the rest of the ride. When the train pulls into the Astor Place station, you and Subway Boy get to your feet simultaneously, so quickly that your bags knock together as you pull them over your shoulders.

“Sorry,” you say in unison, immediately sharing an exhaled laugh at the synchronicity of the moment.

The doors slide open and he gestures for you to go first before following after. It’s a surprise— he’s never gotten off at Astor before, and when he doesn’t take the option of heading in another direction but instead falls into lockstep next to you, you seize the opportunity.

“Astor Place today, huh?” You hope the observation still falls into the category of ‘noticing a normal amount’.

“Yeah, first day of a new gig. What about you? Class?”

You nod. “Pretty standard stuff. But we start a new unit today, so that’s fun.”

“You in grad school too?”

“Yup, MFA in studio art.” You can’t help but tease, just a little. “Only one master’s degree for me, I’m such a slacker.”

His eyes squint again as he smiles. “Hey, I’m just glad you’re not, like, eighteen.”

“I thought that too!” You keep talking before you can stop yourself. “I mean, when I was… noticing. I distinctly remember thinking, like, please let me not be thirsting over a straight-up child right now.”

“Ahh...” Subway Boy trails off, and you can see a faint pink starting to blossom in the apples of his cheeks. “You were thirsting?”

You can’t help but scrunch your nose up slightly, resisting the urge to full-body cringe at your own stupid mouth. “We are now officially both creepy.”

He fidgets a little with the strap of the dance bag slung over his shoulder. “Hopefully I’m living up to the hype.”

You’re grateful to reach the art building before you can dig your grave any deeper. You nod your head in the direction of the glass doors as you slow to a stop, and he does, too. “This is me.”

“It’s actually me, too,” he remarks, glancing up at the building as if to double-check. “But I have a little bit, so I’m gonna grab a coffee I think. But it was nice to finally talk to you. Not that— sorry, that was weird. Take out the finally. It was good to talk. Meet a fellow starving artist and all.”

You worry your bottom lip between your teeth for a moment, until you finally work up the courage to ask the question. “Do you have a name?”

“Oh!” His eyes widen, more heat-blush coloring his face. “Yeah. Park Jimin. Probably could’ve led with that.”

You give him your name, and his voice is like music when he repeats it back.

“Well, good luck in class,” Jimin says with a nod. “And hopefully I’ll see you around sometime.” A smile toys at the corner of his mouth, and then he pauses as his words seem to catch up to him. “Well, I mean. I guess I know I will. On the— train— yeah, I’m gonna go before I say any more stupid things.”

“Bye Jimin,” you giggle, and he gives a shy departing wave before he spins on his heel. As he walks away, you can’t help but notice the way he drops his gaze and shakes his head, like he’s thoroughly embarrassed by his social performance.

And just like that, Subway Boy has a name— one that loops in your head as you float to class, barely feeling your feet touch the floor. Park Jimin. It’s sweet like him, warm sunshine in your veins as you shoulder open the door to the studio, grab a seat, and start to get set up.

A voice nearly makes you jump out of your skin as Kim Taehyung leans in, having occupied the seat next to you while you were off in la-la land. “Know what the new unit is?” You start to shake your head, then realize it was a rhetorical question when he waggles his eyebrows and continues. “Life drawing. Ready for some naked people?”

You roll your eyes and grab at the strings of his gray beanie, pulling it down over his fluffy hair and eyes in one swift tug. “Bro, we are literally in grad school. Stop acting like a virgin.”

“Like you weren’t thinking it too,” he grumbles to himself as he shoves the hat back up his forehead.

You shoot him a look as your professor signals the class to settle and launches in. It’s the same routine as each unit you’ve rotated through in your graduate studio, so you only half-listen, mostly distracted by Taehyung tearing open the paper wrapper of a red heart-shaped lollipop and popping it into his mouth. His latest oral fixation in his millionth attempt to quit vaping.

You lean down to dig into your bag, trying to ignore the sound of hard candy clacking against teeth as you fish out both pencils and charcoal to give yourself options. You pull a couple of each out of their cases, glancing up in an attempt to refocus on the professor, who is still talking.

It takes a second for your brain to process the image in front of you. His shy smile has been replaced with a serious, professional expression, but there’s no questioning the familiar face, the posture, the silver jewelry, the way he reaches up to run a hand through his hair. Subway Boy Park Jimin is standing in the center of the room, wearing a short black satin dressing gown.

Your jaw goes slack. It feels like it happens in slow motion as you watch Jimin’s strong hands move down to undo the sash at his waist before he shrugs off the flimsy fabric and lets it fall to the floor. And then he’s not wearing anything at all.

You lose your grip entirely on your handful of pencils, and they hit the studio floor with a clatter that certainly feels deafening, each one choosing to roll off in a different direction.

Taehyung glances over at you, brow slightly creased. The lollipop tucked in his cheek impedes his speech slightly, but not enough that you can’t understand him. “Now who’s the virgin?”

You crouch down, praying that maybe you can gather your things unnoticed, but it already feels like every pair of eyes in the room is burning a hole in your back. To his credit, Taehyung at least helps a little, extending a sandaled foot to kick any pencils he can reach over towards you. You scramble around the room to chase after the rest, and you can’t bear to look up and see if Jimin is watching you or not. You’re not sure which would be worse.

Fighting the urge to army crawl out of the room, you grip both hands tightly around your materials as you return to your seat, then tuck everything into the tray of the easel in front of you. You’re a professional, you tell yourself. It’s not like it’s your first time drawing someone nude.

It’s just your first time doing it when you happen to have a crush on them.

But it’s fine. You let out an exhale to ground yourself, then pick up a pencil. It’s just a body.

You vaguely recall hearing your professor explain that you’d be moving through ten quick-sketch poses to begin with, each held for only a few minutes, before switching to a few longer sessions for the rest of class. As you were too busy chasing your pencils around the room, you’ve missed the first pose entirely, and you have to work quickly to get a very rough outline of the second before Jimin moves again at the professor’s instruction.

He switches so fluidly from one pose to the next, and you have so little time, it’s enough to get you out of your head just trying to keep up. You find yourself falling comfortably into a flow state, focused on little more than lines and shapes in front of you and the act of reproducing them on your page. It’s an exercise you know well, and the repetition of it soothes you.

The studio is quiet, save for the scratching of pencils on paper and the soft classical music your professor has switched on.

By the time you finish sketching the tenth pose, it feels like you can breathe a little easier, and your professor offers Jimin a quick break just as you lean back to admire your work. You do your best to quickly duck behind your easel as he stretches, then reaches for a bottle of water set on a nearby table.

Taehyung removes his sheet of sketches and sets it aside before leaning in, pressing his face against his easel to match yours. “He’s cute. Bet he gets like, infinite ass-pussy. Just the absolute most.”

“Shut up, Tae!” You jerk your foot out to kick the leg of his chair, and a boxy grin stretches over his face as he giggles. You stare daggers back. “You’re too damn horny today. Like you didn’t just get your ass eaten in the supply closet last week.” The rumor had spread through your cohort practically overnight— probably started by Taehyung himself.

The menace in question shoots you an over-exaggerated wink. “And I’d do it again, too.”

You roll your eyes. “Nasty.”

The professor claps to get everyone’s attention again, and you peer around your easel to watch as Jimin resumes his place at the center of the room. You settle in for the first of a few longer, more detailed sketches, trying desperately to keep your cool about it. But Jimin is unquestionably gorgeous.

He turns to the side for the first pose, arms wrapped around his muscular torso and eyes downcast, fingertips and thumb resting over his neck and chin as if to cradle his own face in his hand. After a long stretch of time where you manage to get most of a sketch done, the professor cues him to move into a second pose, and he faces the back wall, reaching up to drape his arms over each other, crossed wrists resting delicately on the crown of his head.

You could easily see him as a statue carved out of marble, and you try to ignore the flutter of your heartbeat as you attempt to translate his beauty onto your page each time. You have to hold in several sighs as you work on outlining the strong, toned muscles of his back and thighs— not to mention his perky ass. You can’t help but wonder if the rest of the class is struggling silently, too.

You’re beginning to think you might survive after all when the professor asks Jimin to move again and he does, shaking his body out slightly before reaching to grab a provided stool and shift it to the center of the room. He takes a seat, abdominals flexing as he leans back on his hands and unabashedly lets his legs fall open.

Fuck. You nearly snap your pencil in half.

You try desperately to keep it together as you start your third sketch with unsteady hands. The minutes tick by, and you aren’t aware of Taehyung’s eyes on your paper until you hear his stupid whisper again. “Why aren’t you drawing his dick?”

He’s not wrong. There is a noticeable blank spot at the center of your page. “I’m getting there,” you huff. “Worry about your own sketch, Tae.”

“Girl, you are literally doing detail shading on his legs and he doesn’t even have a penis. What is he, a Ken doll?”

You grit your teeth and refuse to dignify Taehyung with a response. Fine. You can do this, you tell yourself. Don’t think. Just look and draw. It’s not a big deal.

With a hard swallow, you trace your eyes down his body, and… well, you don’t know what you were expecting. It’s just a soft penis resting limp between his legs, framed by an extremely regular pair of balls. Nothing scary, though you can’t quite will the heat back out of your face, can’t manage to silence the recurring thought that makes your stomach drop— it’s cute.

You resist the urge to smack your head against your easel as you finally fill in your sketch’s dick.

You somehow manage to survive the rest of class, but relief still floods your veins when your professor signals for everyone to wrap up what they’re doing for the day. Jimin starts to come alive again from the fixed pose, tilting his head to one side until something cracks audibly in his neck. You tear your gaze away for fear that his eyes might find yours, and shove everything into your bag as quickly as you can, not even caring what ends up where.

“Where’s the fire?” Taehyung questions beside you, but you ignore him.

You zip your bag up and sling it over your shoulder, then make a beeline for the exit, keeping your eyes fixed firmly on the floor. It’s only once the studio door swings shut behind you that you feel like you can breathe again, and you have to keep yourself from outright sprinting to your next class.

~*~

The rest of the day rushes by in an overwhelming blur, your focus entirely shot by the events of the morning. You collapse into a seat on your train home, hugging your bag to your chest, thankful for the first time in your life to not be sharing a subway car with Park Jimin.

When you turn your keys in the lock and stumble in the front door of the apartment, the divine smell of what could only be Yoongi’s cooking immediately hits you full-force. You find him in the kitchen with a towel thrown over his shoulder, searing a large steak in a cast iron pan for what must be a planned date night with Namjoon.

You wrap your arms around his tiny waist from behind as you approach. He responds with his usual greeting: a soft grunt of mild discomfort.

“Can I ask you a question?” you ask, trying to sound as sweet as possible.

“You just did,” Yoongi notes.

You decide to let his sass go, since you really do need help. “Two more?” Yoongi hums, somewhat affirmative, and you continue. “I know you work like 47 jobs and never get any time off—“

“Some of us have to pay rent without the luxury of stipends or rich parents, yes—“

“But is there any way I could… maybe possibly encroach upon your date night just this once? It’s an emergency. I need advice.”

Yoongi sighs, and you shift to peek over his shoulder, arms still wrapped around him as you watch the way he tilts the pan to one side, collecting butter on a spoon to baste over the steak as it cooks. You squish your cheek into his bicep.

“Lucky for you,” he begins, his tone relenting, “Namjoonie just called. They’ve got him working late to prep for the exhibition next month. So date night was canceled anyway.”

“Aw, Yoongiiiii.” You squeeze him tight enough that he makes another disgruntled noise, and you finally release your grip. “I’ll be your girlfriend tonight.”

He rolls his eyes, but willingly plays along. “Then get the wine, darling?”

You fall into a typical routine: Yoongi pulls a tray of roasted vegetables out of the oven as he lets the steak rest, while you grab a bottle of red at his instruction and fight with the corkscrew in an attempt to get it open. Yoongi watches you, slow-blinking, unamused.

“You wouldn’t last an hour in the restaurant industry.”

“Either help me, or shut up,” you hiss through clenched teeth.

When you finally get settled at your tiny kitchen table, Yoongi nods as if to prompt you while he fills each wine glass with a heavy pour. “Let’s hear it.”

You take a deep breath before launching in and recounting the events of your day, trying not to choke as you simultaneously stuff your face with food. Yoongi eats and listens quietly, no discernible reaction on his face save the occasional lift of his eyebrows. He leans back and crosses his arms over his chest as you finish detailing the way you ran out of the studio the minute class ended.

“Alright. So you saw Subway Boy naked, big deal. Do you know how many dicks I’ve seen?”

You groan. “Spare me the details, please.”

“But this is what you wanted, right?” You shrug, and he rolls his eyes. “Don’t play coy now. You’ve been lusting after this kid for months like a weirdo. So why are you stressed?”

“Because!” you huff, frustrated. “It’s— it’s out of order. It’s not like he chose to get naked in front of me specifically, he obviously just thought it was going to be a roomful of strangers. And it seemed like maybe we could be friends or something, but now I don’t know if I should keep pursuing that or just leave him alone. I want to be respectful, but I don’t want him to think I took one look at his penis and decided I didn’t like him anymore, but then it’s like, how do I hold a conversation when he and I both know I have seen his penis, not only seen but studied it, drawn it, and will continue to, weekly, in detail, from multiple angles—“

“You are absolutely overthinking this,” Yoongi laughs into his glass of wine, downing the rest before he continues. “Just get on the fucking train and say hi like a normal, well-adjusted human. This is my advice to you.”

You sigh as you shove a roasted potato in your mouth. “At least you’re a good cook.”

“I’m a great cook,” Yoongi corrects you as he gets to his feet. “Now help me with these dishes.”

~*~

Yoongi’s advice continues to echo in your brain as you lapse back into something like normalcy for the rest of the week.

When the day of your studio class rolls around again, you find yourself hustling not to miss the train, having hit snooze on your alarm a few too many times that morning. You fly down the subway steps just as the 6 is pulling into the station, and you try to ignore the way your pulse is already quickening, telling yourself it’s just from rushing and nothing else.

Pulling the strap of your bag up on your shoulder, you make it to the platform just as the train doors slide open, and your heart instantly leaps into your throat. There he is, leaning against a pole, overwhelmingly beautiful as ever. Park Jimin.

He’s scrolling through something on his phone and hasn’t yet looked up to notice you, and you find yourself frozen in place, jostled angrily by commuters exiting and boarding the train on either side of you.

Panic floods your veins. There’s no time to talk yourself off the ledge, no time to remember Yoongi’s words of wisdom, no time to do anything but make a snap decision. So you do the only thing that feels right: you turn around and sprint back up the stairs and out of the subway station.

The sidewalk is equally bustling, and you try to dodge people while you think through what to do despite the way your head is spinning. You were already going to be cutting it close for time today, and you don’t exactly have the disposable income for a taxi or an Uber. As you try to settle your racing thoughts, your eyes alight on a rack of Citibikes.

Fuck it. You don’t have a better option. Securing your bag on your back, you quickly scan the code to unlock the bike, then shove your phone in your pocket and swing your leg over the seat.

You’ve never biked in Manhattan traffic before, but it can’t be that difficult, you tell yourself. Definitely easier than sharing a subway car with Park Jimin.

Thankfully the street you’re on has a defined bike path, and you do your best to follow the flow of traffic, squeezing your hand brakes to slow to a stop when you hit a red light. It’s been years since you’ve ridden a bike that wasn’t stationary, but it comes back to you relatively easily, like— well, riding a bike.

When you hit a long stretch of green lights, you do your best to pick up speed, trying to make up for lost time. An approaching red light threatens to slow you down again, and you breathe a sigh of relief as it flips to green at the last possible second.

Just as your front tire rolls into the intersection, a deafening car horn nearly gives you a heart attack. You instinctively slam your grip tight around your brakes, and your bike screeches to a halt so fast you’re almost flung over the handlebars. A taxi just barely veers around you as it plows down the intersecting avenue, and you gasp for air, adrenaline coursing through your system.

Holy shit.

You drop one foot to the ground for leverage as you try to get your pulse back under control— you’re pretty sure you just saw your life flash before your eyes. Reality feels a million miles away, but you’re vaguely aware of someone shouting after the car as it speeds down the street.

“Fucking asshole!”

It takes a few seconds for you to realize that it’s a familiar voice, and when you do, you whip around as best you can with a bike between your legs.

“Yoongi?!”

“Oh my god,” Yoongi groans, knuckles blanching as he presses down on his own brakes. “What the fuck are you doing?”

You squint, taking in the helmet strapped over his wavy dark hair and the insulated bag tucked into the basket on the front of his bike. “Since when do you deliver food?”

He grimaces, speaking up to be heard over the noise of traffic. “I just do it to make extra money when my hours suck.”

“What about the coffee shop?”

He shakes his head. “They only have me opening Mondays and Wednesdays right now.”

“What about the bar?”

“That’s just weekends, reliably. Sometimes extra evenings, but only if someone calls out.”

“What about the—”

“Christ, woman!” Yoongi cuts you off with a growl. “The food’s gonna get cold if I have to sit here and run through my entire résumé with you! Are you alright? Why aren’t you taking the subway?”

“Because!” you snap back. “There is a man on that train whose dick I’ve seen and I… I don’t know how to handle it! Okay?!” Though you don’t intend to raise your voice, it comes out loud enough that a group of high school kids on their phones exchange stifled giggles as they fast-walk around you.

“Well you need to be fucking careful,” Yoongi chides. “Biking in the city is not for the faint of heart. And if I’m not allowed to give in to my suicidal ideation, you’re not allowed to crack your head open on the pavement all because you’re trying to avoid a penis.”

“Fine,” you spit back through gritted teeth. “Now if you’ll excuse me, I need to get to class.” You push off the asphalt, legs still shaking a little with excess nerves as you re-find your balance and make your way cautiously through the intersection.

The rush of wind in your ears isn’t quite loud enough to drown out Yoongi calling after you as you bike away. “It’s only weird if you make it weird!”

When you somehow make it to Astor Place in one piece, you dock your bike and quickly sprint to the building, well aware that you’re already late. It’s only once you push the studio door open that you realize how truly frazzled and out of breath you are, and though you keep your gaze fixed on the floor, you can feel every pair of eyes in the room on you. You hold a hand up in an apologetic wave and hurry to find your seat.

Trying to collect yourself, you begin to unpack your materials as quietly as possible so as not to disturb the class. You nearly jump out of your skin when you hear Kim Taehyung’s voice beside you.

“You’re sweaty. Why are you so sweaty?”

He’s got an eyebrow cocked when you look over, and you give him the most powerful death glare you can muster, enough that it must actually scare him. “Shutting up now,” Taehyung murmurs, voice shaking slightly as he returns to his own sketches, and you huff an exhale as you attempt to catch up to the rest of the group.

Class passes surprisingly quickly once you manage to get your breath back, much in the same way it did the week prior: you do your best to compartmentalize the body in front of you from the human person you have a giant, embarrassing crush on. It goes decently well in the moments where Jimin is frozen in a fixed pose, just lines and curves and light and shadow for you to emulate. During the breaks when he comes alive again, you hide out behind your easel, trying to ignore Taehyung’s inane bullshit and wishing you could disappear entirely.

The second your professor dismisses everyone for the day, you stuff your things back into your bag, hoping to once again speed-walk out of the room.

But despite your better judgment, you can’t help yourself this time. As you get to your feet, you glance up to watch Jimin pull his dressing gown back on, only to realize his eyes are already on you.

You’re distinctly aware of how much of a mess you must look from biking over, and the fact that you almost assuredly smudged charcoal on your face when you reached up absentmindedly to scratch an itch mid-sketch.

Jimin’s plush lips turn up in the smallest of smiles, and the bottom drops out of your stomach.

With a hard swallow, you avert your gaze from his, sling your bag over your shoulder, and quickly make your escape through the studio door. You can feel your pulse pounding in your throat even after he’s out of your sight, and your hands shake like a leaf all the way to your next class.

~*~

That night, sleep evades you until the early hours of the morning, and it feels like you’ve only just begun to doze off when the harsh noise of your alarm pulls you up from dreaming. You roll over in bed and glare accusingly at your phone, then shut it off, promptly letting the waves drag you under once more, seminar be damned.

It’s nearly noon when you finally make it out of bed and stumble into the living room in your sweats. Namjoon is curled up in his reading chair, a feat for someone of his size, surrounded as always by his massive stack of ever-changing ‘to read’ books. He glances up from the one that’s open on his lap, clearly surprised to see you.

“No class?” Namjoon’s voice is rough-edged, like he’s only just woken up himself.

“Skipped,” you grunt. His eyes track you as you cross the room and collapse face-first onto the couch.

“Is this about the penis?”

The cushion muffles your groan. “Not you too.”

You hear the distinct fluttering sound of Namjoon closing his book and shifting in his seat to give you his undivided attention. “Seems like you want to talk about it.”

You turn your head to the side to take in your roommate. “Maybe. Are you gonna give me the same stupid advice your boyfriend did?”

He smiles softly, one dimple flexing at the corner of his mouth. “I can try to be gentler.”

You huff as you flip onto your side, pressing your palms together and slipping them under your cheek. “Sounds like you’ve got the details already, so please. Enlighten me. Tell me how I’m supposed to handle seeing this guy naked once a week in the name of art.”

“Didn’t William Blake say ‘Art can never exist without naked beauty displayed’?” Namjoon poses it like a serious question, brow creased as if in contemplation, and you roll your eyes.

“I don’t know, Joon, did he? I said enlighten me, not write me a thesis.” You reach up to grab a couch pillow and fling it in his direction, missing by several inches. “Did Blake have anything in there on dealing with a naked crush and trying not to make it weird as fuck?”

“Well, does he seem weirded out by it?” Namjoon counters, patient as ever.

“I don’t know.” You shrug unsurely as you play back your last interaction with Jimin. “He smiled at me yesterday, at the end of class.”

Namjoon steeples his fingers together, leaning forward slightly in his chair, interest clearly piqued. “Okay, and what did you do?”

You squeeze your eyes shut. “I… threw all my shit in my bag and ran out of the room.” When you crack an eye open again, you can see Namjoon trying and failing to keep the smug smile off his face, his dimples giving him away.

“Maybe you could try smiling back next time?” he gently suggests.

You sigh, because you know he’s right. “You make it sound so easy. What’s next? You’re going to tell me to talk to him?”

He laughs a little. “I’d quote another poet, but I fear you might launch more projectiles at me.”

You narrow your eyes at him. “Let’s hear it, nerd.”

Namjoon clears his throat for dramatic effect before launching into a recitation. “‘It’s cool, not tryna put a rush on you / I had to let you know, that I got a crush on you.’”

There’s a wide grin on his face as you sit all the way up. “Did you just quote Biggie Smalls at me?”

“Hey, I appreciate all forms of poetry.”

You feign annoyance, but you can’t quite hide the smile beneath it, and you get to your feet as Namjoon continues to mumble a verse of Crush on You under his breath. “Whatever. I need to do laundry.”

“Oh—” Namjoon pauses to interrupt himself. “Lucky’s closed, by the way.”

Already halfway out of the living room, you whip around again at the mention of the laundromat you’ve been exclusive with for the last few years. “What?”

He nods solemnly. “Me and Yoongi found out the hard way last week. They’re putting in an Equinox.”

Your face twists in disgust. “A stupid bougie gym?! You’ve got to be kidding me. Where am I supposed to wash my fucking clothes?”

“We found a place a few blocks up. Quick Clean, or something like that.” Namjoon shifts to dig his phone out of his pocket. “I’ll send you the address. It’s not bad, just a little more expensive.”

“This is such bullshit,” you groan as you stomp back into your bedroom, the day already off to a terrible start.

In a gentrification-induced rage, you angrily shove the contents of your overflowing laundry hamper into the giant yellow IKEA bag hung up in your closet, just barely managing to fit it all. Glancing at the mirror on the back of the door, you briefly consider changing out of your sweats, or at the very least doing something with your hair, but you shrug it off— it’s not like you’re trying to impress anyone at the damn laundromat.

You grab your headphones off your desk and sling them around your neck, double-check that your sketchbook is still tucked into your bag, then lug everything out to the front hallway. You pull your slides off the shoe rack and slip your socked feet into them.

“Bye, nerd!” you call over your shoulder to Namjoon before the front door slams shut behind you.

By the time you make it to the weird new laundromat, you’re sweaty and pissed off. You knew the walk to Lucky’s by heart, but you had to do this one while looking down at your phone GPS and trying not to get hit by a car. Not an easy feat while carrying every article of clothing you own over one shoulder.

You miss the way the nice old man who owned Lucky’s would greet you warmly and sneak you a cup of coffee from his pot in the back, the way his cat would roll over on the front counter for belly rubs, the way there was always a deeply entertaining telenovela playing on the ancient tiny TV.

The stupid Quick Clean has none of these things, just a shitty pile of magazines in the seating area and weirdly sticky floors. You slam into the front door a little harder than is necessary to push it open, the bell tinkling violently overhead as you enter. The only compliment you can give the place is that it’s relatively dead, save for a couple people on their phones or half-asleep in chairs as they wait on their stuff, and two guys in the corner loading armfuls of wet clothes into a pair of dryers.

You grab a machine a respectful distance away from them and swing the door open when a laugh that’s nearly musical gives you pause. Unable to shake a sense of familiarity, you glance over at your neighbors again, just in time to see one of them reach up to run a hand through his honey blonde hair.

Your IKEA bag hits the sticky floor with an audible thud as panic kickstarts your heart.

This isn’t fucking happening. Of all the laundromats in New York City, you did not just manage to stumble into the one currently being used by Park Jimin.

But even before you can catch a glimpse of his profile, you’re already certain it can’t be anyone else. You’ve spent too much time familiarizing yourself with the slope of his neck, the definition of his forearms, his dainty hands. There’s no mistaking them, adorned today with several silver rings that catch the dim fluorescent light as he grabs more of his clothes from the washer.

The desperate need to turn around and run rises up in your chest, just as before, but this time you steel yourself. You can’t keep running away forever— particularly not when you pulled on your last clean pair of underwear this morning.

A rush of heat floods your face at the thought of the many pairs of underwear in your bag that will soon be sent spinning around this washing machine, where Jimin could easily see, but then it occurs to you that you have seen his penis. Maybe the trade-off will put you on slightly more equal footing.

But you really don’t need to be thinking about Park Jimin’s penis in this laundromat right now.

Shaking your head slightly to try and banish the thought, you set about your laundry routine, trying not to drop any unmentionables on the floor when you dump the contents of your tote into the washer. You dig quarters out of your bag and slot them into the machine, then press the button to start the cycle.

With a final exhale to steady yourself, you turn to look over your shoulder again, only to find Jimin leaning up against the empty dryer next to his, unabashedly watching you with a small smile on his face.

It occurs to you now that you couldn’t have put less effort into your appearance if you tried, and you’re suddenly hyper-aware of every random stain on your sweatpants and your extremely fashionable socks and slides combination. Jimin’s just in a white t-shirt and a pair of distressed jeans today, but literally everything looks fresh off the runway on him. You suppress the urge to walk out the door and go lay down in traffic, and instead take Namjoon’s advice: you smile back and even lift your hand in a shy wave.

You drop into an empty chair across from your machine and watch as Jimin starts to cross the room to join you, his eyes never leaving yours. Before he can make it, you suddenly become aware of someone else sliding into the seat beside you.

“You didn’t tell me she was cute, Jimin-ah!”

Eyes wide, you turn to see Jimin’s friend sprawled out next to you, one arm draped lazily over the back of your chair. His wavy dark hair peeks out from under a lime green beanie, and he’s swimming in an oversized long sleeve tucked into baggy pants, cinched tight at the waist with a Gucci belt.

“Jung Hoseok,” he gives you a nod. “Friends call me Hobi. You can call me whatever you like.” The way his wide smile pulls his mouth heart-shaped makes you giggle a little, slightly dazed by whatever the fuck is happening right now.

You hear Jimin sigh as he takes the open seat on your other side. “Please ignore Hoseok’s tendency to come on way too strong. If it makes you feel any better, he’s as gay as they come.”

Hoseok flicks his wrist just so. “Guilty as charged.”

“Oh, it’s okay,” you say with a shrug, your gaze flitting from Jimin to Hoseok and back again. “I have two gay roommates, so.”

Hoseok hums, clearly interested. “Gay together or gay separately?”

“Gay together.”

He narrows his eyes. “Open to a third?”

You can’t help but laugh at the unexpected question. “Uh, I’d have to ask.”

He looks like he’s going to say more, but Jimin interjects. “Hoseok— can we get a minute?”

Hoseok’s lips pull together, fish-like, and he nods as he gets to his feet. “Say no more. I’ll just, uh…” He fumbles, looking around for something to do, then crosses the room to take the open seat next to the sad pile of magazines. “…do a little light reading.” He picks up one at the top of the stack, holding it up for you both to witness. “Oh look, the queen died!”

You bite down on your bottom lip to suppress another laugh, but Jimin’s face is surprisingly serious when you look back at him. “I just want to say one thing,” he murmurs, voice low, “and then I’ll leave you alone.”

Nerves settle in the pit of your stomach like a heavy weight. “Jimin,” you start, and when he opens his mouth to keep talking, you blurt out the first thing you can think of.

“I’m sorry,” you say in unison, and there’s a beat where you both blink, equally taken aback by the other’s apology. It’s quiet apart from the rumble of the laundry machines and the distinct sound of Hoseok smacking the magazine over his mouth, clearly more invested in your plot line.

You break the silence first. “Wait, why are you sorry?”

Jimin’s eyes drop down to the floor, one black boot toeing nervously at the tile. “I figured you were upset with me because I didn’t warn you.”

Your eyes widen in surprise when you play your initial conversation back. “Oh my god— when I said graduate studio art, you… you knew.”

He nods, somewhat remorseful. “I was kind of hoping that maybe it would be a different class, but. Yeah. I figured. I’m really sorry, I should’ve—”

“No, no,” you interrupt. “I get it. I’m not mad, obviously I didn’t even put it together until right now.” You pause for a second and can’t help but smile a little. “And, I mean, how do you just casually work that into your first conversation with someone? ‘Great talking to you, ready to see my dick in five minutes?’”

Jimin’s head tips back when he laughs, his cheeks flushing a faint shade of pink. “Right.”

You can feel your own face grow hot as you realize what you’ve just said. “God, sorry, I didn’t mean to— clearly I don’t know how to handle this. That’s why I wanted to apologize, for avoiding you and being weird.” You twist your hands uncomfortably in your lap. “I’ve just never been in this situation before, and I wasn’t sure if you’d still want to talk given… the…” Every cell in your body screams at you not to say the word ‘dick’ again. “Yeah. I thought it might be easier to keep my distance. Keep it separate.”

Jimin’s eyes drift back up to find yours, and his casual beauty is so stunning, it’s enough to knock the air out of your lungs. He shrugs softly. “I mean, maybe it would be. But I don’t want to.”

“Great,” you manage a laugh, still breathless. “Because I nearly died on a Citibike the day I didn’t take the subway.”

He laughs, too. “Not gonna lie, I missed seeing you on the train.” You’re not expecting it when he extends a hand out. “Friends?”

You realize belatedly that he’s offering a handshake, and you gently take his hand in yours. His skin is soft and warm, a contrast to the cool metal of his rings that press into your palm as he squeezes.

“Friends,” you echo with a smile, squeezing back.

There’s a sudden thump and a cackle as Hoseok falls out of his chair with a peal of laughter. “You are so fucking weird, Jimin-ah!” he gasps from his spot on the floor. “Who shakes hands?!”

The two of them keep you more than entertained until the buzzers on their dryers sound a second apart from each other. You learn that Hoseok and Jimin are roommates, that they met as dance majors in their undergrad program, and that Hoseok now works as an adjunct instructor and freelance choreographer.

“Because some of us decided we wanted to actually make money instead of digging ourselves further into debt,” he explains with a sly grin and smack delivered to the back of Jimin’s head.

You watch as they meticulously fold, Hoseok regularly leaning over to redo Jimin’s work and chide him about wrinkles, and then they stack the clean laundry back into their bags and head for the exit.

“Bye, new friend!” Hoseok calls as he maneuvers the door open with his foot, and Jimin pauses at the threshold, the bell overhead tinkling gently.

“So… guess I’ll see you on the train?” he asks, like he’s still a little unsure, and your heartbeat flutters.

“Guess so.”

“Cool.” He gives you one last soft smile before he disappears after Hoseok. The bell sounds again when the door shuts behind him, as if to snap you back to reality.

The floating feeling in your stomach doesn’t quite dissipate even long after Jimin has left the laundromat. While you wait on your clothes, you flip to a blank page in your sketchbook and start on something new: the outline of a hand extended in mid-air, rings glinting like an offered promise.

~*~

The next week, Jimin is waiting for you on your morning subway ride, the dance bag that he usually keeps tucked between his legs set on the bench next to him. When he sees you step through the train doors at 51st, you watch him reach over to swing the bag down to its rightful place on the floor, freeing up the space. An open invitation.

You can’t help but feel a little shy as you sink down next to him and murmur your thanks. There’s something about being this close to him that just makes your mind go blank, puts you at a loss for words entirely.

To your surprise, he doesn’t try to strike up conversation either. Instead he plucks one fancy bluetooth earbud out of his ear, gives it a diplomatic swipe across the fabric of his joggers, then holds it up, pinched between his fingers in front of you.

Another invitation, you realize dumbly.

The corner of your mouth turns up as you pluck the bud out of his hand and press it into your own ear. The music that must have paused itself upon the earbud’s removal resumes, and your smile grows when Jimin quickly unlocks his phone to restart the song from the beginning.

An acoustic guitar and a light, pretty voice fill your ear, underscored by a gentle yet driving beat, not unlike the rumble of the train beneath your feet. It’s like the rest of the world fades away to nothing as you stare down at his sneakers next to your shoes, hyper-aware of the mere inch or two of space between you in this moment.

As if to prove your point, the train comes to a sharp stop, enough to make you slide a little on the bench and then you’re suddenly not just close but touching, all the way down, an unbroken line from shoulder to hip to knee.

When you look over in surprise, Jimin is already looking back at you. You swear you can feel warmth radiating out from him at every point where your bodies press together.

After another dazed moment, you come to your senses enough to scoot over, breaking the contact with an embarrassed laugh as you feel your face grow hot.

Your gaze drifts back down to the floor, only to snap up again at another brush of contact, this one not initiated by you or by the motion of the train. Instead, you realize Jimin has spread his legs an inch wider to purposefully touch his knee to yours again and leave it there. You blink softly as you look over at him, but he’s staring firmly out the window of the subway car now, smiling with just his eyes.

For the rest of the ride, you think of little else but Jimin’s knee pressed against yours and the pretty pink flush in his cheeks.

You stay in comfortable silence, music floating in your ears as you exit the train at Astor Place together, until you reach the studio, where you finally return the borrowed earbud. He smiles as he tucks them both back into the case, then pushes open the door and gestures for you to enter first.

Jimin shoots you a final look before your paths diverge, and you sink into your seat with a small, dreamy sigh. Your bliss is short-lived when you hear Taehyung’s voice over your shoulder.

“That was fast.”

You whip around to shoot him a look. “What was fast?”

He makes a face, like it’s obvious. “You’re already banging the model and it’s been, what, two weeks?”

Taehyung’s just close enough that you can lean forward and smack him on the arm, and he hisses in a way that has to be an exaggeration. Thankfully he seems to take the hint, and manages to actually keep his mouth shut as the professor commands everyone’s attention at the center of the room.

When Jimin emerges in the usual black satin, you try to keep your composure, but you can’t ignore the chill that dots up your spine when he lets the fabric fall to the floor.

Nevertheless, you sink into the routine of class, the thrill of Jimin’s naked body now equal parts familiar and exhilarating. The only difference is that today, when you’re dismissed, you make no effort to quickly pack up. You instead purposefully take your time, adding a few extra details to your last sketch before you finally start putting things away. Your gaze flickers up distractedly to see Jimin pulling his dressing gown back over his body as he moves to close the distance between you.

“Hi,” he says simply when he reaches your easel, and you smile.

“Hi.”

“Sorry, is, uh— is it okay that I talk to you, when I’m—” He gestures vaguely to his lower half with one hand, using the other to keep himself covered.

You swallow hard at the thin layer of fabric and everything you know lies beneath it. “Yeah, it’s okay,” you say, hating how breathless you sound.

“When are you done with classes today?”

It takes an extra second for you to remember your own schedule. “Uh, six.”

Jimin fidgets with the satin material in his hands, clearly a little uncomfortable. Or maybe nervous. “Would you… want to get dinner after? With me?”

Your stomach flutters as you nod. “Yeah, yes. I’d like that.”

~*~

When you emerge from your last class, you find Jimin waiting for you on Astor Place, and you’re not expecting it when he greets you with a single question: “Do you like sushi?” You answer affirmatively, and he nods over his shoulder. “Then let’s walk this way.”

You end up tucked into two seats at a place you’ve never been to before, where rolls and other plates of food zip past you on a steadily moving conveyor belt. Jimin shows you how to pop the plates out from their protective domes, and you gather a small feast of options on the table between you to share.

“So,” you start with a nervous smile, chopsticks hovering in midair. “Can I ask the obvious question?”

He quirks an eyebrow, intrigued. “What’s that?”

“What made you decide to nude model?” The words alone send fresh waves of heat and nerves through you, sparkling in your chest. “Or have you done it before?”

“I haven’t,” Jimin confirms with a shake of his head, then he pops a piece of sushi in his mouth as if to buy himself time. He chews, bringing a hand up as he speaks with his mouth still half-full. “Do you want the real answer?”

You nod, and his adam’s apple jerks as he swallows. There’s a look on his face like he isn’t quite sure what to say, and then he exhales a weighty sigh. “I’ve struggled with my body for a really long time. Especially in undergrad.”

Your eyes widen slightly— you weren’t expecting such a serious response.

“Dance doesn’t typically have the best culture for that to begin with,” he continues, “and I’d spend literally all day staring at myself in a mirror, so I would just… pick myself apart. Always convinced I wasn’t good enough, that I needed to lose more weight, always.”

The thought of it makes your heart ache, but you let him talk.

“I’m through the worst of it now, so please don’t feel like you need to be worried. But I have some friends who’ve done this kind of thing before and it seemed like, I don’t know, a good challenge?” His brow creases, contemplative. “I really love art, so I thought maybe if I did it, I might be able to see my body in a new way, through the eyes of other people. Of artists.” He pauses, then nods, like he’s said his piece.

It takes you a second to respond. “That’s… beautiful, Jimin.”

He looks down, clearly a little uncomfortable. “Sorry if that was too heavy.”

“I can take it,” you say softly, and it’s enough to make him glance back up in surprise. “Thank you for telling me.”

A faint color floods his face. “Thanks for listening.”

You eat in a silence that’s oddly comfortable, and when you both reach for the same piece of sushi and end up knocking chopsticks together, he lets you have it, picking up the thread of conversation again as he smiles. “What got you into art?”

You make a face, chased by an unsure shrug. “Is it bad if I say it’s the only thing I feel like I’m good at?”

Jimin laughs a little. “I don’t know that I believe you.”

“I mean,” you lean back in your seat. “Maybe not the only thing, but I’ve just never been able to see myself doing anything else. I’m not cut out for the corporate life, as much as my parents wish I was. Art’s always been the thing that I go to in my free time. When I’m feeling so much that it’s overwhelming, or so numb that it’s like I can’t feel anything, the act of creating something just… brings me back to center again.” You worry your bottom lip between your teeth. “It’s an outlet, I guess.”

“Well, if it helps, you’re very good at it.”

“Thanks,” you say with a small smile. “But it’s not even about being good, at least not to me. Maybe it sounds weird, but I don’t really have any interest in being the best. It’s art, so it’s all subjective anyway. I just wanna make stuff.”

Jimin smirks as he adds another empty plate to the growing stack in front of you, tongue poking briefly at the inside of his cheek before he speaks. “I could stand to be more like you.”

“Your turn,” you shoot back. “Why dance?”

At this, he actually brings a hand up to cover his face, and his voice is muffled under his palm when he responds. “I can tell you exactly why, but it’s embarrassing.”

You shift a little in your chair to get a better look at him. “Don’t be embarrassed! It’s not like I—” you cut yourself off before you can very obviously finish the sentence with ‘haven’t seen your dick’, and you shove a piece of sushi in your mouth to shut yourself up, so fast you nearly choke.

Jimin laughs loudly into his hands, and then you’re laughing too, dropping your head down on the table to try and chew your food without asphyxiating.

“Okay, okay,” he gasps when he can finally manage to take a breath in. “I’ll tell you.”

He sets his chopsticks down, overly serious. “When I was little, I was obsessed with Titanic. Specifically the scene where they dance together, and Rose rises up on her toes in front of everyone.” There are practically stars in his eyes as he recounts the moment, and you can’t bear to cut him off. “I just thought she was so beautiful, and I wanted to be like that. Almost broke my toes trying to go en pointe barefoot like an idiot.”

You’re silent for a moment, and there’s a flicker of panic in Jimin’s face, like he’s worried he overshared. “I have to be honest,” you say softly. “I’ve never seen Titanic.”

His eyes nearly pop out of his head. “What?!”

Already expecting the reaction, you grimace and nod. “I know, I know. Everyone gets mad at me for it. Go ahead.”

Jimin’s eyes flit from your face to the remaining piece of sushi on the plate between you, then back again. “I mean, we can go solve this problem right now, if you want.” He pauses, then admits with a giggle, “I have it on DVD.”

You shrug, trying to act casual despite the way your pulse has started to quicken. “They canceled my morning seminar for tomorrow, so I’m down.”

He leans forward to steal the last piece of sushi with a smug smile. “Then let’s get out of here.”

It’s a short train ride back to Jimin’s place, and you make it in the front door just in time to see Hoseok slipping out of what looks to be his bedroom. You barely process him as the same person— tonight his dark hair is swept off his forehead, and he’s in nice dress pants and a white button-down, unbuttoned just enough to display the delicate spread of his collarbone.

“Hi kids!” he calls in greeting, and you wave back as you kick your shoes off.

Hoseok crosses to grab a mirrored pair of aviators and his keys off the table by the front door. “Daddy’s going out. You two have fun, don’t do anything I wouldn’t do.” He pauses for a moment, like he’s waiting for a joke to land, then cracks a grin. “By which I obviously mean do whatever the fuck you want.”

As Hoseok pulls the door shut behind him, you follow Jimin into the living room, where you perch nervously on the edge of the couch while he disappears into the kitchen. “Do you like prosecco?” he asks, raising his voice slightly to be heard.

“Uh, I think so,” you say unsurely. “I don’t think I ever developed enough of a palette to have wine preferences.”

“White and sparkling?”

“Sounds good,” you respond, and then you hear the distinct noise of a cork popping before he returns with a bottle and two glasses in hand. He sets everything on the coffee table as he takes a seat next to you, then leans forward to fill both glasses nearly to the brim.

Jimin’s face flushes when you giggle softly at the pour. “Sorry— I like to drink. You don’t have to finish it all.” You shrug and take a healthy pull from your glass. It’s crisp and light, with little bubbles that fizz and pop all the way down. 

“Hoseok calls me a lush,” he admits with a shy laugh as he picks up his own drink and turns to face you, sitting back against the arm of the couch. You shift to mirror him, curling your socked feet up under you. He takes a sip, then seems to think better of it, leaning forward to set his glass down on the table again. “I did want to tell you something. A couple of things, I guess.”

The sentence makes your stomach twist, and you try your best to ignore it. “What’s up?”

Jimin’s lips press together for a moment, as if he’s trying to figure out how to word whatever he’s about to say. “I’m not, like, trying to be presumptuous by telling you this but I just— I don’t want it to go unsaid and then come up later and be a whole big thing, so. I just want you to know that Hoseok is my ex.”

Your eyes widen in surprise. You’re not sure what you were expecting, but certainly not that.

“We dated freshman year of undergrad, for… maybe three months? It was the kind of thing where I knew I was bi in high school but was too scared to act on it, so when I moved to New York I just, like, dated the first gay person I met? Which was probably a little shitty of me. We quickly realized we work much better as friends, and it was a very mutual thing. No hard feelings.”

You nod slowly, trying to keep up. “And you’ve lived together since then?”

“No, no,” Jimin replies quickly, and he nearly grimaces as he continues. “At the end of last semester, I, uh… I got out of a pretty bad long-term relationship.” The way he says it makes your heart sink a little. “And she and I lived together, so Hoseok was extremely gracious and offered to take me in.”

He reaches for his glass of wine again, then pauses with it halfway to his mouth. “Ideally the number of exes I’d be living with would be zero, but. You know. This is definitely the better option, at least until I can figure out what comes next.”

A pause settles between you while he takes a long drink and you try to process all this new information. “I’m sorry about the breakup,” you say softly, and he shakes his head as he swallows.

“Don’t be. It was a very good thing. Long overdue.”

“Well,” you correct yourself, the corners of your mouth pulling up. “Then I’m sorry that it took so long.”

At this, he smiles back. “Me fuckin’ too.”

After one more sip, Jimin sets his wine back down on the coffee table, then rolls off the couch— surprisingly graceful— to retrieve Titanic from the small collection of movies lined up on the shelf beneath the TV.

“Ready?”

“This better have a happy ending,” you murmur over the edge of your wine glass. Jimin laughs so hard he nearly tips over.

He settles next to you again as the movie starts, painted pretty in the blue glow of the TV, and you try your best to watch the movie, but it’s hard to keep your eyes off him. Partway through you notice him grab a pillow off the back of the couch and hug both of his arms around it, curling up small.

Cute, you can’t help but think to yourself, and you can feel heat settle in your face as you try to refocus on the story.

When you reach the dancing scene Jimin sits up a little, lips parting slightly, that same starry look in his eyes as when he explained it initially. The mental image of a younger version of him equally enraptured by the moment nearly makes your chest cave in.

The movie goes on, and you’re draining the last of your second glass of wine when out of the corner of your eye, you see Jimin’s eyes go wide. Jack and Rose are closely examining a rare diamond necklace, and you don’t understand what he could be reacting to until Kate Winslet delivers her next line.

“Jack, I want you to draw me like one of your French girls.”

Your eyes go just as wide as Jimin’s, and you let out a laugh of disbelief that’s nearly a scream. “Oh my fucking god, Park Jimin! You did this on purpose!”

“I swear, I didn’t! I didn’t even think about that part until right now!” He shakes his head desperately as he gasps for air, and he doubles over with his own laughter, rolling right off the couch, arms still clutched tightly around his pillow.

“I literally cannot believe this.” You dissolve into giggles as you sink to your knees on the floor beside him, close to tears.

It takes time for you both to recover, but Jimin eventually manages to pull himself back up to sitting, shoulders still shaking slightly with laughter. He lets the pillow drop to the floor and presses both of his palms down into it as he leans towards you. “But hey, maybe that’s why I like you.”

He’s so magnetic, so beautiful, you can’t help but lean in, too. “You like me?”

There’s a warm glow of color in his cheeks, and you’re not sure if you can blame it entirely on the wine. “I do.”

Your lingering smile slowly starts to soften, and now your heart feels like it might pound out of your chest. “So what, you’re Rose and I’m Jack?”

His gaze drops to your mouth, his voice barely more than a whisper as he murmurs, “Uh-huh”. Imaginary violins swell in your head as you surge forward to close the distance and press your lips to his.

Jimin’s lips are soft and warm, and your head spins as you sit up on your knees and lean into the kiss. While his mouth moves gently against yours, his palms press to the small of your back, and the heat of his hands radiates through the thin fabric of your shirt. You wrap your arms over his shoulders, partially for balance and partially in an attempt to pull him closer to you.

He tilts his head, and you whimper against him when you feel his tongue trace delicately over your bottom lip. He returns a breathy noise back as he licks slowly into your mouth, like he’s taking his time, like he’s not in any rush.

Even though you can feel your arousal starting to build, heavy in your gut and slick between your thighs, you realize: you want him to take his time with you.

You’re surprised at the loss when he suddenly leans back, just enough to break the kiss, still keeping you held close. “Is it, um—” he clears his throat, then tries again. “I don’t… want to go any further. Than this. At least not tonight. Is that okay?”

Your eyes search his, and you’re a little breathless when you manage to get the words out. “Yeah. Yeah, of course. I’m good with that. With whatever you want.”

“Okay.” You exhale a laugh when he reaches over to find the remote on the coffee table and pause the movie. “I want to keep kissing you, if that’s alright.”

“Yes, please,” you murmur against his lips.

Jimin shifts a little, and you follow his lead, letting him tip you backwards onto the floor, your arms still looped around his neck, one hand now tangling in his honey blonde hair. He drops a forearm down to the carpet beside you, his other hand coming to rest at the curve of your waist, knees bracketing your hips as he covers your body with his.

He alternates between sucking on your lower lip and gentle passes of his tongue into your mouth, the hand on your waist tracing a lazy path down to your hip and back up again. Something pulled tight inside you starts to slowly unwind, blooming open as you sink into the rhythm, into him.

It’s been such a long time since you’ve just kissed someone like this, without it feeling like part of a race to get naked. And you’ve never been kissed like this in your life— so soft, so attentive. It’s enough to make you dizzy, even with your back pressed flat to the floor.

You lose track of how much time passes as you trade open-mouthed kisses on Jimin’s living room carpet, until he finally pulls away again. Still in a daze, you shift the hand in his hair to gently cup his face, not quite able to believe that he’s really real.

“God,” Jimin breathes, laughing quietly to himself. “I really like you.”

You smile as you blink up at him. “I like you too, Jimin.” 

Rolling over, he drops down onto the floor next to you with a blissed-out sigh. He stretches his arms overhead, spine arching like a cat, then lifts up again to glance back at you. “Do you want more wine? ‘Cause we’re only like halfway done. This movie is stupid long.”

“I could go for more,” you answer with a shrug, still smiling.

In one swift move, Jimin flips his legs over his head and effortlessly somersaults up to standing, and your eyes go wide. “How do you fucking do that?!”

“I’m a trained professional!” he calls over his shoulder as he sashays into the kitchen. You giggle a little. “I would break every bone in my body.”

He’s humming prettily to himself, and you hear the sound of the fridge opening and closing, followed by the pop of another bottle being uncorked. You pull yourself back onto the couch as he rejoins you and pours fresh wine into both glasses, and a sudden curiosity urges you to ask a question. “Is Titanic your favorite movie?”

Jimin shakes his head, but says nothing, and the strange hesitant expression that flashes over his face just makes you that much more intrigued.

“Let’s hear it.”

His eyes flit over to you, then back to the wine glasses. “You’ll laugh.”

“I won’t!” you exclaim, lifting a hand when he scrunches up his nose, doubtful. “Promise.”

With a reluctant sigh, Jimin sets the bottle back down on the table, staring straight ahead as he admits, “It’s The Notebook.”

You press your lips together, trying desperately to keep your mouth in a straight line. At least you manage not to laugh. “I— wow. Really?”

He nods like the reaction is expected, picking up his wine glass and settling back against the couch cushions. “I don’t know, there’s just something about it. It’s comforting, to me.”

“You’re such a romantic,” you murmur, gently nudging his thigh with your foot until you coax a smile out of him.

“You know what?” Jimin’s voice is thoughtful now, more self-assured. “I am.” He takes a sip of his drink before he continues. “For a long time I didn’t want to be. Or thought that I couldn’t be. I used to always try to be so. I don’t know. Masculine, I guess. I think some of it had to do with denying my sexuality, but even once I got around to accepting that, there was still this part of me that would just never allow myself to be… soft.”

His gaze drops down to the wine in his glass, and you sit up, tucking your legs underneath you to scoot closer to him until you’re side by side. “I like you soft,” you say simply, and he looks over at you, still smiling.

“If we watch The Notebook I will cry.”

“That’s okay.” You lean into him to seek a kiss, made sweet from the wine. He hums a little against your lips before you pull back. “Same time next week?”

~*~

Just like that, you fall into a regular routine with Jimin: sharing his headphones on the morning train, sketching out the shape of his body in studio, then picking up takeout and wine to bring back to his place and split over a movie. As predicted, The Notebook does make him cry, and when you show him Kimi no Na wa the week after, hot tears stream down your face at the final scene, the way they always do.

He takes your head in his hands as the credits roll, his thumbs swiping at errant tears on your cheeks. You chase a sniffle with an embarrassed laugh. “Okay. We’re even now.”

On your fourth movie night, partway into Moulin Rouge, something emboldens you when you see Jimin reach for his usual couch pillow. You lean over and gently pry it out of his grip, then shift to tuck yourself into his side and curl your legs up in his lap instead.

“Better?”

“Mm-hmm”, he murmurs as he ducks down to nuzzle against your cheek. “You’re warm.”

These nights end the same way each time: you ride the train home with a wine-soaked buzz in your brain and flushed, kiss-bitten lips, your fingertips brushing over your own mouth at the memory of his.

Once a week quickly turns into more. The two of you coordinate laundromat afternoons where you listen to music together as you wait for your clothes. You usually end up drawing to pass the time, and sometimes Jimin dozes off, head tipping over onto your shoulder so gently that you can’t help but smile down at your sketchbook.

At his request, you help him dye his hair pink in his tiny apartment bathroom, and it somehow suits him just as well as honey blonde. You both get dizzy from laughter and cleaning product fumes as you desperately try to scrub the bubblegum stains out of the tile before Hoseok comes home.

When you finally introduce Jimin to your roommates, the four of you crammed all-too formally around the kitchen table over Yoongi’s cooking, the interaction feels like a cross between a job interview and a prom date meeting your parents. You choke on a piece of chicken that you nearly inhale when Namjoon offhandedly refers to Jimin as Subway Boy, and Yoongi smiles wide enough to show his gums as he gladly recounts your months-long crush in great detail while you bury your burning face in your arms.

But Jimin takes it in stride, laughs into your mouth as he kisses you over the sink while the two of you wash the dishes.

“Subway Boy, huh?”

“I will drown you,” you murmur as you pull away, brandishing the spray hose like a threat.

It’s easy and slow. This blossoming something, a nameless but undeniable spark, the calm comfort of Jimin’s arms wrapped around your waist, his fingers intertwined with yours, his head dropped down on your shoulder.

~*~

You dig your phone out of your pocket as you shoulder open the door to the dance building, pulling up the text from Jimin to double-check his practice room number. A train delay made you slightly later than your agreed-upon time, but you know the takeout bag of Indian food dangling over your wrist will easily earn you his forgiveness.

It doesn’t surprise you that he’s the only one left in the room when you find it, nor that he’s still reviewing the choreography with an expression of severe focus. You hover in the doorway, waiting for him to look up, but he’s entirely concentrated on his own reflection in the mirror.

His movements alternate between delicate and powerful, explosive and restrained, and you have to hold in an outright gasp when he launches his body into an aerial and lands it effortlessly. But then his feet falter in a split second of hesitation, and you can see his expression tighten, clearly frustrated.

“Fuck,” he mutters to himself as he rubs a hand over his face, and he doesn’t even try to keep going with the rest of the dance. You take the opportunity to step a few more paces into the room, and his eyes jump to you in the mirror.

“Hi,” you say softly, suddenly a little nervous to be intruding on the moment. The corner of Jimin’s mouth turns up, but his eyes seem far away, and you can tell he’s still raging at himself in his mind.

“Hi, sorry,” he sighs. “I just— can’t get this. It’s like my body isn’t doing what I tell it to.”

“You need food.” You try to say it gently as you cross the room, holding up the smiley-face adorned plastic takeout bag. “And perhaps the enigmatic charm of Rachel McAdams.”

This seems to shake him out of his thoughts, at least a little. “I do like her.” He steps close enough to slip his arms around your waist and pull your body flush against his. Sweat glistens on his collarbone in the dim practice room lighting. “But I like you more.”

You roll your eyes as you playfully smack a hand against his solid chest. “Stop lying.”

“‘M not,” he insists as he presses a kiss to the hinge of your jaw. “Rachel McAdams has never once brought me masala dosa.” You giggle despite yourself, and when his lips drop down to your neck, it’s enough to make your breath hitch.

A spark ignites in your chest that doesn’t go out, not on the subway ride back to your apartment, not through dinner and a movie, and certainly not once you’re most of the way through the second bottle of wine. As the credits start to roll, you waste no time, turning in Jimin’s lap so you can properly straddle him and take his face in your hands.

You trade decadent, easy kisses, and Jimin’s hands settle at the small of your back, his thumbs massaging gentle circles into your hips. A shiver rolls up your spine when he shifts a little and you realize you can feel a growing bulge through the fabric of his joggers, pressed firm against your thigh. He breathes a soft sound into your mouth as his tongue slides over yours, and you’re so overwhelmed, you barely register the sound of keys in the lock or the front door opening.

It’s Jimin who reacts first, turning his head to break the kiss as his cheeks flood with color, and you glance over your shoulder just in time to see Yoongi storm past, heading for his room. He lifts a hand up to his face to shield you from view as he goes.

“Don’t stop on my account!” Yoongi’s voice is dripping with derision. “By all means, continue fucking on our shared furniture!”

“We’re fully clothed, asshole!” you snap in response as Yoongi slams the bedroom door behind him, hard enough that it rattles in the frame.

When you look back down at Jimin, his face is twisted in an expression you take to be embarrassment. You drop your head down on his shoulder with a frustrated groan, the moment successfully killed.

“Do you…” you pause, turning your head to the side but continuing to ask your question into the fabric of his shirt. “We could go to my room, for more privacy, if you want?”

He hums his agreement, and when you peel yourself off the couch and head for your room, he follows. You spin back around to face him in the doorway, so fast he nearly knocks into you.

You brace your hands on the doorframe as you survey him. “We really don’t have to… do anything, if you don’t want to. We can just talk.”

Jimin nods, and you step aside to let him enter first, pulling the door closed behind you as you follow. He takes a few tentative steps into the room, and you walk past him to drop down onto the floor next to your bed, then pat the carpet to encourage him to join. There’s a flash of something over his face, and then he sinks down beside you. It’s only now that you realize how quiet he’s gotten.

“What is it?” you ask, suddenly a little nervous.

He stares down at the soles of his feet, pressed into each other, his knees tipped open like butterfly wings. “Does it make you feel bad? That we’re not—”

“No,” you answer immediately, and the honesty of it resonates in your chest.

“I know we’ve been hanging out for a while,” he continues, voice low. “And I do want to, you know. Hook up.”

“Jimin,” you lean forward to place both of your hands over one of his, settled atop his knee. “You don’t have to explain anything to me. When you want to, I want to. But I like everything we’ve been doing, too. It’s not like we’re not… intimate.”

His gaze flits up from the floor to meet yours. “I don’t want you to think that I don’t want you.”

You close your fingers around his hand, pulling it off his leg and up to your face so you can brush your lips over his palm.

“I don’t think that at all,” you murmur against his skin. “Promise.”

There’s a hint of a smile in his eyes when you look back up at him. “Okay. Sorry, I know it’s stupid. Like why do I need reassurance from you when I’m the one being difficult?”

You press your cheek into the warmth of his hand, toying lazily with the rings on his fingers. “Why are you so convinced that you’re difficult?”

Jimin huffs a small sigh. “This conversation has not gone this well in the past.” His eyes drop to the floor again, and after a moment’s pause, he keeps talking.

“My ex and I struggled a lot with…” he shakes his head, as if he’s trying not to say ‘everything’. “Sex. With me wanting it, with us having enough of it. I think it gave me a complex. I could be physically, you know, ready, but then as soon as she’d touch me I’d get in my head about everything and freak out and immediately want to stop.” He pauses, worrying at his bottom lip.

You pull his hand into your lap, your fingers delicately tracing over his in an attempt to provide some comfort. He shrugs when he starts to speak again. “And then, I don’t know, I guess she was just trying to share her side, but... she would make me feel so bad about it sometimes. Because I was genuinely trying so hard but it was like I was never good enough.” Another pause, and this time he sniffs a little. When his eyes roll up to stare at the ceiling, you can see he’s holding back tears. “It felt like she didn’t want me anymore, not if there wasn’t sex. So I left.”

“Jimin,” you breathe, and he flashes you a small grimace, clearly embarrassed by his own dramatics. With a grunt of effort, he turns sideways and flops backwards onto the floor of your room, and you scoot closer to him, your hand still playing with his.

His gaze roams over the ceiling as he sighs. “I don’t want you to think I was this perfect person and she was some awful bitch. She loved me a lot, and I’m sure she was struggling with not feeling wanted either, in her own way.”

Your voice is soft when you interject. “Two people can just be… incompatible. It doesn’t mean either of them is a bad person, or that it’s anyone’s fault. Sometimes things just don’t work, no matter how hard you try.”

Jimin’s mouth pulls up on one side as he shakes his head, eyes squinting. “How did you get to be so smart?”

You can’t help but laugh a little, lacing your fingers together with his in your lap. “Years of making terrible decisions.” You give his hand a gentle squeeze before you ask a question. “Did you struggle with this before, or just with her?”

His mouth twists slightly, unsure. “Yes and no? Both? My desire has always… fluctuated, I guess. Been a little shy.” A smile spreads over his face, and he hums a note. “Like, you know how people say love at first sight isn’t a thing? That it’s just lust?” You nod, prompting him to continue. “I think, at least for me, it’s the opposite. I can fall for somebody, and fall hard, like that.” He snaps loudly with his free hand. “But lust… I don’t know, it takes longer. It’s like a slow burn thing.”

You nod again, processing his words for a moment before you respond. “Well, I’m in no rush.”

Jimin sits up, voice thoughtful as he untangles his hand from yours, and it’s clear he’s getting more comfortable opening up to you. “Right after the breakup, I did a lot of research. I found this term, demisexual, that felt pretty accurate.” He shrugs. “But I don’t know. I mostly just think that... I am who I am. And the people who get it will get it. Like you.”

Before you can even speak, he sweeps an arm under your calves to drag you into his lap in one swift move, and you squeak a little in surprise as your world tilts.

“Demisexual. I like it,” you giggle as he guides your legs to wrap around his middle. His hands slide up your thighs, grabbing at your hips to tug you closer so he can trail kisses along your neck.

“Biromantic demisexual, technically,” he murmurs, head tipping up to find your mouth again.

You drape your arms over his shoulders and hum against his lips as he kisses you. “It suits you.”

Another soft noise escapes you when Jimin manages to maneuver to standing with you still in his arms. You tighten your grip on his shoulders and your legs around his waist, and his hands shift down to your ass to firmly hold you up. You squeeze your eyes shut automatically in fear of being dropped, then flutter them open again when you feel your back press into the soft cushion of your bedspread.

Jimin is hovering over you, forearms dropped down to the bed on either side of you. His eyes search yours for a moment, and then he leans in to kiss you again, so fiercely this time that it leaves you breathless. You can’t help but whimper as his tongue slips into your mouth.

When he finally pulls away, he presses his forehead to your collarbone with a groan. “It’s late,” he murmurs, breath ghosting over your neck. “I should go.”

You nod responsibly, despite how desperately you want him to stay.

You walk him out, and his sweet parting kiss leaves your heart hammering in your chest, enough that you slump against the frame with a sigh once you shut the door, your knees suddenly weak.

Light on your feet, you follow the faint noise of the TV to find Yoongi in the living room with Planet Earth on at a barely audible volume. He glances at you, his mouth a flat line, then reaches for the remote to turn the sound up a few notches. You drop down on the couch next to him, and it’s silent for a moment, save for the calm narration and the crinkling plastic of him tearing open a bag of Turtle Chips.

“How’d it go?” he finally asks, voice monotone.

“It’s good,” you answer softly. “We’re good.” You fold your legs up under yourself and sneak a look at Yoongi out of the corner of your eye. You’re still a little pissed, but you also want advice. Damn him for knowing everything.

“Have you heard the term ‘demisexual’ before?”

Yoongi nods, still chewing as he replies. “Yeah. Like asexual spectrum, right?”

You shrug. “I guess. It’s new to me.”

He shoves a few more chips in his mouth before he continues. “Is that what your Subway Boy is?”

“I think so, yeah.”

There’s a long pause while you watch penguins march across the screen, and you think that might be the end of it. Then Yoongi clears his throat. “You know, I’m somewhere in there too. Not completely asexual, but definitely not… not.”

Your eyes widen. “Really?”

Yoongi snorts. “Don’t act so shocked. These walls aren’t that thick.”

“Is Joon?”

He smirks, like you’ve just told a joke. “Decidedly not.”

“Oh.” You blink, trying to process. “How do you deal with it?”

Yoongi makes a face, like he’s never thought about it before. “We just communicate, I guess. Be respectful even when we don’t necessarily understand. And, like, Namjoon watches porn, and surprisingly reads quite a bit of erotica—”

“Okay, okay,” you cut him off. “I don’t need all the details.”

He huffs a dry laugh at your discomfort. “It’s not always easy, sometimes it’s frustrating for both of us. But we make it work. We love each other.”

You chew a little at the inside of your cheek, and then you can’t hold in the question any longer. “Is it weird that the idea doesn’t bother me? Jimin said it was a huge issue with his ex. Like, does that make me on the… spectrum?”

Yoongi shrugs. “I mean, you might be? But not necessarily? I don’t know, sex matters different amounts to everyone. Some people don’t mind not having it that often. You don’t have to put a label on it unless you want to, you know?”

“Yeah, makes sense.” You nod slowly as you digest the idea. “Thanks, Yoongi. I appreciate the education.”

His only answer at first is a noncommittal hum, and then he points a finger at the few inches of wine in the bottle you left sitting on the coffee table. “Gonna finish that?”

“It’s all yours,” you say. “Consider it atonement for going to first base on the couch.”

Yoongi grabs the bottle by the neck and immediately drains it. “Apology accepted,” he grunts as he sets it back down. “And I’m sorry I snapped at you.” He extends his bag of chips in your direction and you happily reach in for the biggest handful you can manage.

~*~

During your next movie night, Jimin can’t keep his hands to himself.

They pet up your thighs, your legs draped over his, then slide up to your hips, fingertips tracing patterns over the waistband of your leggings and toying at the hem of your shirt.

His mouth has a similar problem: he leans in to press kisses along the line of your jaw, then down the slope of your neck, sucking delicately at the spot that makes your nipples tighten and sends a shiver through you.

“You’re missing the movie,” you remark, raking a hand through his peachy-pink hair, shadowed at the roots where his natural color has started to grow in. He’s typically good about keeping himself restrained until the credits roll, but you’re barely halfway through Pride & Prejudice, haven’t even cracked a second bottle yet.

“Fuck the movie,” he growls against your skin, and you bite back a whimper when his teeth scrape over your neck. You can’t ignore the way your core is starting to ache from his insistent mouth.

His lips find yours again, and you giggle softly into him. “You’re in a mood.”

“Just been thinking about you,” he murmurs between kisses. It surprises you a little when he suddenly pulls back so he can look you in the eyes. “Should we— do you want to go to my room?”

The air hangs still and heavy between you, and you worry at your bottom lip for a moment. “Are you sure?” When he nods, dark brown eyes blinking up at you, your mouth turns up at the corner. “I’d rather we not traumatize any more roommates if we can help it.”

You lean over to pause the movie before sliding off his lap and getting to your feet, and then you reach your hands out for his and pull him up next to you. “Come on.”

Jimin’s bedroom is so perfectly him that it relaxes you, feather-soft comfort every time you step inside. His bed isn’t made, because it never is, the thick white duvet pushed down on one side where he stumbled out from beneath it this morning. He keeps it dark, blackout curtains drawn to support his night owl lifestyle, and the room is bathed in the warm glow of fairy lights he’s strung up along the ceiling. A myriad of posters and art prints and polaroids are taped to the walls, some beautiful, others sentimental— he even managed to coax you into tearing a few of his favorites out of your sketchbook. You still don’t think they’re anything special, but nevertheless, it makes your heart squeeze in your chest to see them on display with everything else. Like they belong here in this room, like you do too.

The door clicks as it shuts behind him, and then his mouth is on yours again, kissing you dizzy while he backs you up until your knees hit the edge of the bed. He guides you to lay down, and his hand slips beneath you to drag you up the bed with him as he crawls over you.

His hands come up to tug at your shirt. “Can I take this off?” he breathes.

You nod, staring up at him and not quite able to believe any of this is real. “You can do anything you want to me.” With a smile, he lifts the hem of your shirt, and you sit up a little so he can pull it the rest of the way off.

“God, you’re beautiful,” Jimin murmurs against your skin as he kisses down your neck, over your collarbones, then down between the valley of your breasts. His hands slip down to palm at your tits, squeezing gently, and he mouths at the stiff peaks of your nipples over the thin fabric of your bralette. You untangle briefly, only for as long as it takes to get the lacy thing off of you entirely and tossed over the edge of the bed.

You shiver a little as the air hits your bare skin, and then the warmth of his body covers you again, and he ducks down to close his mouth over your nipple and suck. The plush softness of his lips and the firm suction combined are enough to make your eyes roll back, and your spine arches up beneath him when he drags his tongue in a circle over the sensitive bud.

“Shit,” you groan. Your hands fist in the fabric of his shirt, and it feels like your only tether to reality.

It’s easy to believe it’s the waiting, the anticipation of this moment, that makes every little touch light you up like a live wire now. But something tells you it will always feel like this.

While his lips shift to your other breast, one hand slides down to cup your clothed pussy, rubbing gentle friction into your center. You circle your hips to press yourself against the flat of his palm, sighing at the brush of indirect contact and the heat that thrums through you from the pressure on your clit.

You feel Jimin’s weight shift on the mattress as he kneels next to you, and his lips find yours again at the same time his hand slips into your leggings, two fingers tracing the seam of your panties to make you whine softly. If he couldn’t tell before, he must be able to now: how wet you are, enough to drench the lacy fabric so it clings to your cunt, dripping arousal to show how badly you want him.

He’s surprisingly forceful when he tugs the damp fabric to the side, but so gentle again as he slips one finger and then a second into your tight heat. Your mouth drops open as he curls them up to rub at your g-spot, stroking into you over and over while your cunt squeezes tight around him.

Your head drops back on the pillow and you groan. “Oh, fuck, Jimin.”

You can hear how soaked your pussy is as he pumps into you, and the wet squelch of his fingers working inside you would make you shy if it didn’t feel so overwhelmingly perfect. The pleasure edges your breathing with soft sounds, and Jimin swallows them when he kisses you again.

He shifts slightly for a better angle and then you feel the heel of his palm grind down against your clit. It’s enough to make your hips buck up under him with every press of his hand, his insistent touch shooting sparks of arousal through you.

It’s been so long since anyone has touched you, and you’ve wanted this with him so badly for so long, but even still, it surprises you how quickly he can bring you to the edge.

“Jimin,” you break the kiss to gasp against his mouth, unable to believe how close you already are. Close enough that all you can do is cling, to any part of him you can reach: his hair, his shoulders, the fabric of his shirt. “Jimin, Jimin, fuck.”

“Look so fuckin’ good like this,” he groans, and he says the next part softer, like it’s just for him. “My girl looks so pretty on my fingers.”

The pace of his movements doesn’t falter, nor does the heavy weight of his palm as he ducks down to capture your nipple in his mouth again. Your pussy pulses around him, sucking him in to the last knuckle with each thrust of his hand, and your nails dig desperately into his forearm as you feel your orgasm crest.

His teeth graze lightly over the tight bud of your breast, and it’s enough. With a final whine, the arousal that’s been coiling inside you snaps, and your back arches up off the bed as you come hard on his fingers.

Jimin’s fingers keep stroking you through it, the flat of his palm rubbing rough circles against your clit again and again and again and it feels like you might never stop coming. You moan as it rolls over you, wave after wave, until his touch is so overwhelming that you have to pull your trembling thighs together, and he finally relents.

Spent, your body sinks heavy into the bed, and you can’t help the dazed giggle that flutters out as afterglow starts to bloom behind your ribs.

Jimin hovers over you, dropped down onto his forearms, full lips pressing indiscriminately to your flushed skin, all over. You snake a hand through his hair to pull his mouth up to yours, and he kisses you slow and deep.

When you break apart, you tip your forehead to his. “Can I touch you?” you ask, still a little breathless.

“Please,” he murmurs, lips brushing against yours again before he pulls away with a small, embarrassed smile. “My pants hurt.”

You sit up on your knees and he does too, and you bite down on your lip as you reach for the hem of his shirt. He helps you pull it over his head, and then there he is, beautiful as ever. Familiar, yet somehow all new.

Jimin shivers and whines when your hands run across the bare skin of his chest, teasing over his soft brown nipples before starting to trace a path down to his stomach. You lean in to kiss him, and he outright groans into your mouth when your fingertips tease along the band of his boxers that peeks out over his jeans. You gently bring your palms to his hips to guide him, and he’s pliant for you, shifting backwards at your suggestion until he’s seated, leaned back against the headboard.

Your hands shake slightly as you unbutton and push down his jeans, and you hear him exhale a ragged sigh of relief. He’s so hard, you can understand why the tight denim must have been painful: his dick is still straining even now, a thick outline pressed into the fabric of his underwear, and there’s a dark patch that clings to his tip where he’s started to leak precum.

You tug his boxers down with enough force that his length smacks heavy against his stomach, and he makes a strangled noise in response, eyes squeezing shut. His hips jerk violently beneath you, and your jaw goes slack as you watch his cock twitch, and keep twitching, until a steady pool of milky gloss has leaked out over his stomach.

“Shit,” Jimin hisses as he comes practically untouched, and he gasps for air to try to speak. “Fuck fuck fuck— ‘msorry, thought I could—”

You can see him starting to spiral, can feel the panic starting to heat up inside his body, so you take his face in both of your hands. “Jimin.”

“This has never happened before— fuck, I don’t— this is so—”

“Jimin.” When you say his name again, firmer this time, he goes quiet, his eyes still shut tight. “Look at me,” you murmur, and he does, lashes slow-blinking open. “It’s okay. Okay?” Your gaze searches his, trying to convince him. “I like everything about you. Everything you do. You’re perfect.”

Clearly trying to steady his breathing, his chest shudders with effort, and you gently circle your thumb at the hinge of his jaw. He makes a soft noise as his eyelids drop shut again, his cheek pressing into your hand, letting you carry a little bit more of his weight.

It’s quiet for a moment, and his voice is unsure when he speaks. “There’s tissues… in the—”

“Can I take care of it?” you interrupt to ask, your voice low. His eyes blink open again to look at you, and a dark glint flickers there as the unsaid meaning of your question washes over him.

“Y-yeah.”

You take your time moving down the bed to settle between Jimin’s thighs, and you stare up at him, waiting for any indication that he wants you to stop or doesn’t feel comfortable. But he just swallows hard, his adam’s apple jerking in his throat, and nods.

Leaning down, you drag your tongue in steady, long strokes over the flat plane of his stomach to lick the mess up.

As you get the last of it, you’re surprised to feel his hand cup the back of your head. You don’t resist when he pulls you up for a kiss, then licks into your mouth to taste himself, the salt and slick of his cum sliding between your tongues.

When you break apart to swallow, Jimin’s voice is a whisper. “That okay?”

You nod, unable to bite back your smile. “You’re… really fucking hot.”

He smirks as he finds your lips again. “So are you.” The next kiss is sweeter, and then he pulls back. “If you want, we can keep— or I can go down— I don’t want—” He can’t finish any of his half-started thoughts, and you smile, lovingly running your palms over his thighs, back and forth. 

You want him so badly, more than anything, but you try to breathe through it. You can see the wheels spinning in his head, that self-critical flash in his eyes, the same furrow in his brow that creases when he gets frustrated with himself.

“I’m not saying no because I don’t want you,” you preface. “But I just don’t want you to feel stressed or get in your head about it. I want it to feel good, and I’m in no rush. Next time, okay?” 

His lips are still a little pouted, but he nods, and you lean in to sling your arms around his neck. “C’mere.”

You tug him down to the mattress, and your half-naked bodies fit together like puzzle pieces, hands tracing gentle patterns over bare skin as you kiss.

When you eventually end up with your cheek pressed to his chest, you listen to the sound of his heartbeat settling, his breathing evening out. You speak softly in the quiet of his room. “My roommate’s doing an exhibition on Friday. Will you come with me? I’ve been promised there will be free booze.”

Jimin tightens his grip on your waist, his voice slurring like he’s half-asleep. “Mmm, my favorite person and my favorite thing.” There’s a pause, and he sighs. “That sounded bad. Promise I'm not an alcoholic.”

“I know,” you laugh, dragging your lips over his collarbone, then grunting a little noise of frustration as reality starts to set in. “I have class early tomorrow. I should go before I fall asleep here.”

He whines his disapproval, but when you glance up you can see the fight going out of him, his eyelids starting to flutter closed. You lean up for one, two, three more kisses before you force yourself out of bed to find your bra and your shirt. “I’ll see you Friday?”

“Mmkay.” He inhales deep, like he’s coming up for air. “Text me when you make it home safe?”

“I will,” you promise, and you do.

~*~

Namjoon’s exhibition is laughably fancy for what really just ends up being a room full of gay, overdressed art students. The ridiculous finger foods disappear in minutes— all the broke grad school kids came hungry— but you and Jimin gladly hover around the table of champagne flutes instead, giggles sparkling between you like the bubbles that fizz in your glasses.

You’ve been trying to drag him away to actually take in the art, but he keeps necking his drinks. “You’re supposed to sip it, you demon!” you chide with a laugh as he does it again, picking up a fresh glass and throwing all of it back in one gulp.

He smirks slightly as he shakes his head. “It’s more fun this way. Try it.”

You roll your eyes, hiding the grin that threatens to stretch over your face in the rim of your drink before following suit. He’s not wrong: a rush of warmth creeps up your neck as you swallow, the world softening around you, and it’s made sweeter by the kiss Jimin leans in for. When he pulls back you can see his face is flushing, too.

“Come on, Mr. Park,” you murmur, your free hand intertwining with his as you set the empty glass down and retrieve another. “Take me on a tour.”

Jimin grabs another flute too and then you’re off, and he actually manages to drink this one slowly as you weave through the gallery, the click of your footsteps underscoring the gentle classical music that floats through the speakers. You lean into Jimin in comfortable silence as you take in each art piece, sipping delicately at your champagne, occasionally hooking your chin over his shoulder just for the thrill of being close to him.

“These are all beautiful,” he hums appreciatively as you stand in front of a wide, impressionist landscape, swirls of color that shift into shapes when you step far enough away, but dissolve into unidentifiable blobs of thick-textured paint up close. “Namjoon did a really good job curating.”

“Mm-hmm,” you nod, but your eyes are on Jimin and everything else pales in comparison. He’s dressed up for the occasion, tight black jeans and a white button-down with a leather jacket thrown on over top. His hair is styled, pretty pink strands pushed back off his forehead, and his asymmetrical silver earrings glimmer in the low lighting. The result is so stunning you’ve had a hard time focusing on anything but him tonight.

A thought that’s been running through your mind all evening resurfaces again as you swallow the last of your glass of champagne.

“They should put you in a gallery.” You didn’t necessarily plan to say the thought out loud, but say it you do. Jimin quirks an eyebrow and you decide to double down. “But not here. Somewhere better.”

“The Met?” he guesses, teasing.

“The Louvre,” you counter, and he outright laughs, his head tipping back.

“The Louvre?!”

“You heard me,” you giggle, your body pressed against his side. “You’re art.”

Releasing your hand, he wraps his free arm around you to pull you into his chest, the smile still lingering over his face. “And you,” he murmurs, “are drunk.”

“Doesn’t mean I don’t mean it.” Your voice is muffled slightly as you speak into his collarbone.

You tilt your head up for a kiss, and it seems to surprise both of you how quickly the atmosphere changes. It might be the more-than-several glasses of champagne to blame, or the fact that you’ve found yourselves in a corner, hidden away from the rest of the exhibition’s patrons, but the soft spark that ignites between you quickly grows into a licking flame at the touch of your lips. It’s heat-blush passion as your mouths move against each other, and you’re trying to keep quiet despite the weight of it, heavy in your core, this shared, unspoken need.

“Jimin,” you breathe into him, overwhelmed by all that he is.

He shifts, nosing at your jawline as he speaks into your ear. “Do you want to go somewhere?”

The suggestion makes you a little unsteady on your feet, your high heels threatening to topple over, and he catches you with a hand to your waist when you falter. “Like, somewhere here?”

“Too far to go all the way home,” he purrs, the hand on your body squeezing gently. “And you look too good.”

Your head swims as he kisses you again, and he pries the empty glass out of your hand, setting it down on the nearest table with his. A hand returns to the small of your back, then slips lower, cupping your ass through the fabric of your black dress. His mouth paints a smile over yours, and you grab his wrist. “Follow me.”

Stumbling your way through the gallery, trading laughs under your breath like confidants and kisses when no one is looking, you lead him back to the coat check closet at the front, thankfully left vacant by whichever freshman had been roped in to the thankless job. With a final glance over your shoulder to make sure you’re unseen, you push the door open and tug Jimin inside after you.

As soon as the coat check door closes again, he has you pressed against it, his tongue slipping hungrily into your mouth. His hands skirt up the curve of your hips as he slots a thigh between your legs, firmly pushing up the hem of your dress to grind into your clothed center.

You both freeze where you are at the sound of a moan, one that very distinctly does not come from either of you.

Jimin tries and fails to suppress a nervous laugh. Unable to make out anything in the dark, you reach your hand out, smacking aimlessly at the wall next to you until you find a lightswitch and flip it on.

“What the fu—” The man who made the noise in question flings a hand over his face at the sudden intrusive wash of fluorescents, but you’d know him from his voice alone. Kim Taehyung still has one hand gripped tight to the metal bar of a coat rack, back arched and legs spread for whoever his latest victim is, with his pants and boxers shoved down to his ankles.

Before your alcohol-soaked brain can put together a smug comment about how Taehyung needs to get his ass eaten at home like a normal human, Jimin’s voice surprises you.

“Hobi?”

You clap a hand over your mouth as you realize the man on his knees, pulling his tongue off Taehyung’s rim with a look of utter confusion, is none other than Jung Hoseok. His eyes are wide as dinner plates as his head snaps up to take the two of you in.

“Jimin?!”

“Oh my god.” You start to laugh so hard your knees buckle, and Jimin has to wrap his arms around you to keep you upright. “How the fuck did you two even meet?!”

“Do we really need to have this discussion now?!” Taehyung growls, and it only makes you laugh harder.

“Come on, come on—” Jimin is collapsing into giggles himself as he fumbles for the handle behind you. He simultaneously attempts to pull you off the door so he can swing it open. “Let’s leave them to it.”

You smack the lights off again as you make your escape, Jimin’s grip still hugging tight around your waist as you laugh until your lungs nearly give out. The lobby is thankfully empty, all the attendees pressed deeper into the gallery, so you loop your arms over his shoulders as you recover and pull his mouth back down to yours, unable to stop yourself.

“Let me take you home,” you manage to say in the space between kisses. Your tongue feels heavy when you speak; his is champagne-sweet. “Joon and Yoongi will be here for a while.”

Jimin’s agreement hums, buzzing on your lips. “Wanna take the train?”

You’re grateful the subway car you stumble into is empty, because the pull of Jimin’s mouth is too magnetic to be ignored. You don’t think you could stop kissing him if you tried.

It’s practically a race back to your apartment once you emerge from the station, partially to get out of the cold night air, though you hardly feel it with Jimin’s jacket slung over your shoulders and your body flushed hot from alcohol and desire. As you climb the four flights to your walk-up, both of you giggling and gripping tight to the banister, the spiral of the stairs sends your world spinning. You feel dizzy-drunk on wine and laughter and lust alike, and maybe something more. Something you don’t have words for yet.

It takes you three tries to get your keys in the door, and when you finally manage to get it open, you kick your shoes off and make a beeline for your bedroom, dragging Jimin along after you, hand-in-hand. Thankfully he has the foresight to remember to shut the door behind you, because all you can think about is him: the rich musk of his cologne, the taste of his tongue, the warm blush of his skin under your palms.

The leather jacket hits the floor and you step over it, walking backwards as he licks into your open mouth, shameless.

You nearly fall over when you bump up against the bed and almost lose your balance, and then you reach for the buttons of his shirt at the same time he goes for your dress. The two of you laugh your frustrations against each other as your arms tangle and get in the way.

“You first!” you insist, and he relents, lets you unbutton the starched white fabric of his button-down so he can shrug out of it. Your fingers move to undo his belt and then he takes over, impressively coordinated enough to be able to kiss you while kicking his jeans the rest of the way off, stripped down now to his black boxer-briefs. He pulls your dress up over your head, and then your barely-clothed bodies press together all the way down, the ache in your core now an undeniable throb.

Jimin takes your face in his hands and kisses you again, and you slip one hand between your hips and his to palm at him, earning an appreciative hiss. You rub at him over the front of his briefs, teasing, then dip your touch beneath his waistband.

His cock hangs heavy between his legs, but he’s not quite hard yet, maybe from the cold, so you take him in your hand and start to pump. For fear of too much dry friction you try to go slow, and he groans into your mouth as you twist your wrist a little to circle your thumb over his frenulum.

He buries his face in your neck, and you can feel the heat of his embarrassment bloom against your skin. “Sorry— gimme a second.”

Tilting your head, you press a kiss to his temple. “Don’t apologize. D’you wanna try laying down?”

When he nods, you release your grip on him so he can sink down onto the bed, crawling backwards up to the pillows. Knelt down on the mattress, you settle in the space he makes for you, thighs spread and knees tipped open, and you push his briefs down enough to free all of him.

You hook your thumb and index finger under the head of his dick to pull it flush against his stomach, allowing you better access to drag your tongue in little kitten licks up his shaft. Your other hand moves to massage gently at his balls as you take his tip into your mouth and let it bulge against your cheek, let him slip against the soft wall there to make saliva pool on your tongue, sloppy on purpose.

It’s still not working, not really, and when your gaze flits up to him again, Jimin’s face is pulled into a grimace. Heat rushes up your neck, and you pull your mouth off him and immediately right yourself. You shift backwards a little on your knees as your pulse starts to race. Does he not want this? Did you misread some sign, or push him too far?

Jimin must be able to read the look in your eyes, because he groans as he presses his face into his hands. “It’s not you. Think I drank too much, I don’t— i-it feels good, I—it just—”

You’re not exactly sober yourself. The receding white noise of panic makes it hard to think, hard to know what to say. “I-it’s okay. It’s okay.”

“I just—” he tries again. “I really want to do this, I don’t know why— it’s fucking embarrassing.” The blankets muffle the sound as his palms smack flat against the bed on either side of him in clear frustration. You move out from between his legs, still trying to catch up, and a muscle in his jaw jumps as he pulls his boxer-briefs back over himself.

“Jimin,” you murmur. The bed creaks when you shift to lay next to him, to tuck into his side, and you reach up to run a hand through his hair, a little sticky with the product holding it in place. An anxious, thrumming quiet settles over both of you as his eyes flutter closed.

The words finally come to you in the silence; you can only hope they’ll reach him. “I had so much fun with you tonight. That doesn’t go away.” The crease between his brows softens a little, so you keep talking. “It’s not your only chance, okay? I’m not leaving. I’m staying right here.” Your free hand slips into his on the bed next to you. “And I want you with me.”

He sniffs a little, so quiet you nearly miss it, then turns in towards you. Your noses bump together and your mouth turns up at the corners as you continue. “It’s late, and I… can’t promise there isn’t more ass-eating waiting for you at home. Do you want to sleep here?”

Jimin’s eyes blink open, glassy, and then he nods.

“Come on,” you say softly, sitting up and tugging on your still-joined hands. “How about we shower?”

In the bathroom, you run the water scalding hot, and when you both step in you nudge Jimin forward to stand under it first, then press against him from behind. Your hands wrap around his waist to slide over his stomach as you tilt up to reach his ear when you speak. “This okay?”

He nods, hums a little, and you move your hands up over the whole of his body. Hard lines and soft curves, a work of art you know so well, you can see it when you close your eyes as you map his skin with your fingertips. You nuzzle into the place where his neck and shoulder meet, then press a kiss there. “I’m right here,” you say again, not even sure if he hears you.

But his head turns, and you feel one of his hands slide over yours on his chest. “Will you wash my hair?” he asks softly, and you tip forward to bring your mouth to his, convinced you’d do anything he asked of you.

It’s intimate, the way you take your time running shampoo and then conditioner through his silky pink strands, dragging your nails over his scalp and applying gentle pressure that makes him sigh prettily in response. Jimin steps further under the showerhead both times to rinse the product out, and if a few tears slip down his cheeks, they’re lost to the spray of the water where you can’t tell the difference.

But he does manage the ghost of a smile when you reach to grab your washcloth and he gets there first. “Your turn.”

Once your body and then his are scrubbed and rinsed clean, you shut the water off and grab thick, fluffy towels that you dry off and wrap up in. In the dim light of your room, you pull on an oversized t-shirt and boyshorts, then dig out a pair of sweatpants from your dresser. They’re fairly baggy on you, but they fit Jimin perfectly, and the image of him in something of yours makes your heart squeeze tight in your chest.

You run two glasses under the kitchen tap that you set out to ward off any potential hangovers, and you even manage to find a spare toothbrush for him to use. When he emerges from the bathroom again, still absentmindedly toweling his damp hair, you’re sitting on the bed with your feet tucked under you.

“Do you want to watch something?” you offer gently.

He shakes his head as he stifles a yawn. “‘Mtired. Think I just wanna sleep.”

You pat the bedspread next to you, an invitation. “Then let’s sleep.”

Under the covers, you curl up together, soft and warm from the shower, scented lavender and mint from your body wash and toothpaste. Jimin’s legs tangle with yours, an arm wrapping over your waist, and you press your cheek against the hard plane of his chest with a small sigh.

You listen as his breathing slows, each inhale a little further apart from the last, to the point where you think he’s fallen asleep. You feel yourself start to follow after him, and the last thing you hear before you’re dragged all the way down is Jimin inhaling deep, then mumbling softly into your hair. “Thank you. For everything.”

~*~

Light streams in between the cracks of the window blinds, painting warm shapes over your eyelids that gently wake you. You sigh and stretch as you slowly come all the way up from dreaming, your eyes still heavy-lidded. When you roll over with a soft grunt, you find Jimin fast asleep there, his face smushed into the pillow, one arm slung lazily over you.

The corner of your mouth pulls up, and you have to fight the urge to dot kisses all over his face, deciding to let him sleep instead. It takes some maneuvering, but you manage to roll out from under his arm without waking him and slip quietly out of bed, easing the bedroom door closed behind you.

It’s early, and the apartment is still, washed in morning gleam and the gentle hum of New York City traffic on the streets outside.

You stumble into the kitchen with a stifled yawn, swinging open the fridge and leaning down to retrieve a pack of bacon and the half-empty carton of eggs. Humming quietly to yourself, you dig a pan out and set it on the stove to heat.

Arms slide around your waist, making you jump a little before you melt back as Jimin nuzzles into the crook of your neck. You can feel his body through your t-shirt, still warm from sleep and bedsheets he must’ve only just crawled out from under.

Not quite graceful, you turn in his arms and loop yours around his neck to seek a kiss. “Good morning,” you murmur, your voice hoarse on your first spoken words of the day. “How are you feeling?”

Jimin’s mouth is still slurred from waking up when he answers. “‘Mgood. You look good.” His gaze roams down your body and back up, as if to take in your oversized shirt, your bare legs, your hair still messy from sleep. “So cute like this.”

You scrunch your nose slightly as you smile up at him. “Want breakfast?”

A heat starts to pool between your legs as his hands slide further down your back. He pushes your shirt up so he can grip your ass, the thin fabric of your underwear the only thing separating his skin from yours.

“In a bit.”

You can’t help but squeak when, in one swift move, he bends his knees and lifts you off the ground. Impulsively, your legs spread to wrap over his hips, thighs squeezing tight to hold on, and your arms cling around his neck as laughter flutters in your chest. Before you can act on the urge to bury your face in his shoulder, his mouth finds yours again, and the way he kisses you, hungry and deep, makes nothing else in the world matter.

He carries you back to bed, nudging open the door he didn’t quite close all the way with his shoulder, then using a foot to push it shut again. Your muscles unclench when he sits down with you in his lap, and you unwrap your legs from around him, your knees sinking soft into the bed.

You can’t quite shake the thoughts of the night before. “Jimin,” you start, “we don’t have to do this if you don’t—”

“Want to,” his voice is low, ragged edges from sleep. “Doing it ‘cause I want to. I want you. Do you want me?”

You nod, leaning back to look at him, your arms still twined over his neck. “More than anything.”

There’s no rush this time as he shifts backwards up the bed and you crawl over him to settle into his lap again. No tension that’s been building all night, no alcohol buzzing in your systems, no urgency. Just your bodies, half-dressed in sleep clothes, intertwining like they were made to fit together.

Your kisses are sweet and unhurried as Jimin’s hands slip beneath your oversized t-shirt, delicate fingers tracing up your waist. He cups your breasts in his palms, squeezing gently as he licks into your mouth. When he rolls a nipple between his fingers, your breath hitches, sparks of arousal shooting all the way down to your toes. A weight blossoms in your core as you reach for the hem of your shirt to pull it over your head, and you shiver a little in the morning air.

“Beautiful,” Jimin says quietly, reverently, and you take his face in your hands.

“You are too,” you murmur, your eyes searching his. “So beautiful.” Your hands slip down his body as he kisses you again, your fingertips outlining the contours of his chest, gently brushing over his nipples to make him groan into your mouth.

Jimin’s hands come to rest at the curve of your hips as your mouths move together, where he teases his touch under the band of your boyshorts. He pulls back just far enough to ask, “Can I take these off?” and you nod.

You shimmy the thin fabric down your thighs, dropping onto your ass with a laugh so he can tug them the rest of the way off, one ankle at a time. As you sit up on your knees again, his hands come to grip your thighs, and he shifts lower on the bed until he’s laying flat on his back next to you.

“Wanna eat you out,” he murmurs softly.

“Yeah?” You bite down on a small smile.

He hums. “Can I— will you please, uh… sit on my face?”

You can’t help but giggle. No one has ever asked so politely. “Yeah, okay.”

It’s slow, languid, the way his full lips close delicately around your clit when you settle over him, how he alternates with lazy passes of his tongue, not unlike the way he kisses you. The pleasure pulls your spine arched and your head tips back, palms pressing flat to the bed beneath you.

“Jimin,” you gasp, “baby, feels so fucking good.”

His tongue is heavy as it drags down your folds, thick when he sinks it into your cunt to taste the slick arousal that pours out of you and drips down his chin. Your hips rock into his mouth, his nose inadvertently bumping against your clit as he licks you like he doesn’t want to waste a drop. Your walls cling tight, crammed up full of him.

With a slurp and a gasp for breath, he withdraws, his tongue made hot from being buried inside of you, trailing wet warmth as he licks back up your pussy to lap at your clit again. Your arms threaten to give out when he sucks the sensitive bud into his mouth, lips pulsing an insistent rhythm that makes you moan and writhe above him.

“Jimin, Jimin.” The pleasure is decadent, thick, wine and honey, made sweeter by the beautiful boy pressed between your thighs. Emotion bubbles up inside of you to twist with your pleasure, and you tighten a hand in his rose-blush hair as you moan again, nearly a sob this time, a dam breaking.

Jimin hums against you, fingertips digging into the soft skin of your thighs, like he can tell you’re at the edge without you having to say a word, and it’s enough to send you tumbling over it.

“Oh fuck baby, yes, fuck.” Your toes curl tight over the bedsheets as your pussy flutters, throbs, gushes. Your vision whites out as you come hard enough to make your thighs shake, hard enough that your stomach muscles tremble with the effort of holding you up. Jimin’s mouth works you through it, tongue stroking flat and slow to coax pulse after pulse out of you, until everything melts into shaky aftershocks and your thighs clench around him, over-sensitive.

He pulls back when you start to squirm, lips smacking wetly on a final kiss to your pussy, and heat flushes your face at the sound of it. Your limbs feel heavy as lead as you slip off from on top of him and collapse down onto the mattress with a floaty sigh, your pulse still thudding brightly in your ears.

You’re only distantly aware of the way the bed shifts as Jimin slides down next to you. You follow his touch on instinct, turning into him when he pulls you close and presses a kiss to your hairline. Heartbeat still slamming in your chest, mind hazy with morning orgasm glow, you hum contentedly as your eyes flutter open to find him palming at a thick bulge tenting his– well, your sweatpants.

“Looks like it’s cooperating today.” Jimin’s voice is equal parts relieved and embarrassed.

With a lazy smile, you hook a finger in his waistband, tugging playfully. “What do you want to do about it?”

He laughs hoarsely. “I would love to finally fuck you, if you’ll have me.”

“I don’t want anybody else.” The thought spills out before you can worry if it’s too soon to say it, but he just smiles and leans in to kiss you.

At Jimin’s guidance, you lay back against the pillows, a couple of which he grabs to slot under your hips. “There’s condoms in the nightstand,” you say softly, and anticipation thrums in your chest, twinning with your still-racing pulse as you watch him retrieve one, then step out of his sweatpants to roll it on.

He climbs back onto the bed to hover over you, and your breaths come shallow into each other’s mouths. You kiss quietly at the precipice of this moment, like you’re afraid it might not be real, a dream you could wake up from at any second.

“Thank you.” Jimin’s low voice sends a ripple through you. “For waiting for me.”

You press a hand to his cheek, your eyes trying to take all of him in at once. “It wasn’t waiting, Jimin. Really. I’ve loved every second with you. It doesn’t matter what we’re doing.”

“I’m so glad I met you,” he murmurs.

The head of his cock teases your entrance, and you spread your thighs wider, pulling your legs up towards your chest. Still sensitive from your first orgasm, you can’t bite back the moan that spills out of you as he sinks into your tight heat with a cock thick enough to split you open. “Fuck, Jimin.”

There’s a pause when he’s pressed all the way in, his body covering yours, your hands clutching at the broad sweep of his back. He exhales a soft, disbelieving laugh as he looks down to see himself buried in you to the hilt. “God, you’re so tight. Does it hurt?”

You shake your head— you’re so soaked from his tongue and your arousal that it all just feels like melting, a pulsating heat between your legs. When he presses another kiss to your lips, he circles his hips, and you both groan at the feeling.

Jimin’s hands grip your thighs as he shifts and starts to move, starts fucking into you with long, slow strokes that make your pussy flutter, as if to urge him in deeper.

“It’s good?” he checks in again, voice tight, clearly holding himself back.

“So good, baby,” you breathe, “please fuck me.” A smirk flashes over his mouth at your manners, so polite when you ask to take it, and then he snaps his hips into you and you keen. “Fuck, please, just like that.”

He does it again and again, hands pressing down on your thighs to keep you folded up under him as he fucks you. The angle is just right for the thick head of his cock to pound into your g-spot with every stroke, and your back arches as your walls grip tight to him.

Jimin echoes your gasps with his own, swearing under his breath as you squeeze around him. He’s thrusting deep-deep now, and your hips shove up towards him for all of it, your thighs trembling as you take every inch. You’re dripping down his length every time he pulls back, wet enough to soak the sheets beneath you.

The pleasure, the pressure as he fills you up is so overwhelming that your hands reach, clinging to anything they can find. A pillow, the bedsheets, the flexing muscles in his forearms. Your moans come unabashedly now, underscored by the slap of skin on skin, the thud of the bedframe knocking into the wall. “Jimin, Jimin, baby.”

“Yeah,” he pants, choked up like he’s close. “Love it when you say my name.”

You sit up a little, folded legs shifting to wrap over his hips, and your hands come to his face to pull his mouth down to yours. His movements stutter as you kiss him breathlessly, and the brush of your tongue over his must be just enough to make him come undone. With a grunt of effort, he thrusts hard into you one final time, and his shoulders shake as he fills up the condom.

You kiss him again and again, your lips pulled into a smile against his as you tangle a hand in his hair, made messy from sleep and sex. Jimin’s body weighs heavy on top of yours as he drops his head to your shoulder, breath coming in short heat-bursts over your collarbone.

“Fuck. Been a minute.” He presses a kiss there, another to your neck, a third to your jaw. “Do you want to keep going?”

Your eyes widen at the question. “I— can you?”

A soft flush paints color in his cheeks, and he’s suddenly a little shy. “Yeah, I can. If you want. Or we can stop.”

You wrap your arms over his shoulders, your noses bumping. “I kinda felt like I was getting close again.”

He smiles. “Then let me finish what I started.” There’s a bit of shuffling as he moves to the edge of the bed to remove and tie up the used condom, then reaches for the box to retrieve another.

As he tears open the foil and rolls it on, you watch and consider all of him. This body that you know from every angle, that you’ve studied like a textbook, that holds the boy who stepped onto the subway and changed your life and made it better. This body, made to be adored, to be respected and cherished and filled up with love. This body, chosen to be shared with you, to be held by you, to be near you.

That’s all you want, you realize as he rolls over, brown eyes blinking sweetly at you. This body, and all that it holds: the darkness and the light, the pain and the beauty, the soul that so perfectly fits with yours.

“Turn over for me?” he asks softly. “I want to spoon.”

This round is easier, slower, your bodies molding together, shaky from effort and sensitivity. You twist over your shoulder, tipping your head up for a kiss that turns into a shared gasp as he presses into you again. Your walls are swollen enough to be tender, and the stretch of him, the way he fills you up entirely, makes your eyes roll back.

As he starts to grind his hips into you, his hand snakes down between your thighs before you even have to ask. You hook a leg over his to allow him better access and gasp when his cock slides even deeper into you from the new angle.

“So good,” you manage as two of his fingers work circles into your clit, matching the same slow-stroke pace. His tongue slips into your mouth, and with his cock rubbing insistently against your front wall, it doesn’t take much. Pleasure overwhelms you in a hot rush as he so easily pulls you apart again.

“Jimin.” Your voice is nearly a whisper, your walls starting to pulse. Your head tips back against his shoulder as he fucks and rubs you through it, his hums of encouragement buzzing through your body, your hips shuddering. “Baby, oh god.”

Jimin’s strokes start to falter, and then he goes still, your cunt aftershock-fluttering around him as he comes again, groaning your name.

A brush of daylight through the blinds makes your eyes heavy, and they drop closed as you lean into him and breathe through the comedown. You don’t know how long you lay there like that until his kisses pull you back earthside, dotting over your forehead, cheeks, nose, jaw. You tilt your head up and he finally finds your lips again.

With a deep grunt of post-sex effort, he rolls over, leaning off the edge of the bed to deal with the second condom. A shiver dots up your spine at the loss of his body next to yours, and you tuck into his side when he lays down again, throwing an arm over his chest to better nuzzle into the crook of his neck. The heat of his palm makes you sigh as his hand rubs gentle circles against your back.

Something cracks open inside of you, warm like his touch, like the sunlight bleeding through the window. You can feel the rapid pace of his heartbeat under your hand, and it’s everything, all of him, that makes the words rise up in your throat, undeniable.

“Jimin,” you breathe, “I l—”

A loud bang on your bedroom door makes you flinch, and you roll over with a grimace as Yoongi shouts from the other side. “If you’re finished, just so you know, you left a fucking pan on the stove. Could’ve burnt the house down while you were in there deflowering each other.”

Your jaw drops open and Jimin’s eyes go wide, and you collapse against each other in a silent rush of laughter. You’re surprised when Yoongi’s voice comes back, a little softer this time. “Also I brought some bagels back from work. If you want any, better hurry before Namjoonie eats them all.”

The charged moment has passed, and the words sink back down inside of you. Making a promise to tell him soon, you wrap yourself tighter around Jimin’s side with a smile. “What do you think?”

He nods thoughtfully. “I’ll never say no to a bagel.”

“Come on then,” you murmur, tilting up for a final hit of affection. The kiss he leaves on your lips makes your heartbeat flutter, like the shudder of a subway car.

[daechwitatamic]

Tagged by @lvoekook and @jeonqkooks - thank you!

name: Jo

sign: Capricorn -> sun, Taurus -> Rising, Scorpio -> Moon

height: 5'4

time: 7:55 am

birthday: December 22

favorite band/artist: i mean, BTS obv that's why we're here. Tegan and Sara, Florence + the Machine, Alison Wonderland, CHVRCHES, Sleeping At Last, City & Colour, Evanescence (lmao leave me alone I'm still a teen in 2004), Mat Kearney, idk I like music

last movie: wow i have abbbbbbbsolutely no idea, I am not a big movie person in general

last show: I've been doing a rewatch of Psych, working through s1 of New Girl, and my partner and I have weirdly been watching episodes from 2019 of Battle Bots bc we have one braincell and it likes that things go smash.

when i created this blog: March of 2022 but I've been on tumblr since probably 2010

what i post: fics I write, random things I want to say, writing/cc discourse, funny stuff Paulina says lol, funny cute or beautiful bts moments

last thing i googled: lmfao "Crows End Inc Spiritfarer" I COULDN'T FIND THE FUCKING TREASURE OK

other blogs: nooooooooope :)

do i get asks: lmaooooo only from Pam or I guess when there's a little "send this around" game going on

following: less than 50 and I can barely keep up with my dash idk how you guys do it!!!

followers: Between 150-200 i am baby

average hours of sleep: around 7 usually

instruments: piano! used to be oboe - it's been over 15 years since I touched one but I feel like I could probably still play some scales?

what i'm wearing: shorts and a tank top

dream job: lmao i am a whole ass adult, in my career path. my dream job is not going to work.

dream trip: I honestly don't even know. I love traveling, i love new places and pretty things to see and I LOVE museums I am not shy about being a tourist yes sign me tf up for the free walking tour, and I love fooooooooooood. As long as chances are I won't die or have a violent act committed to me, I'll go anywhere.

nationality: it is with GREAT regret that I inform you that I am american womp womp we're not ok here send help

favorite songs: right now I've been listening to Swim Home a lot from Tae's driving vlog, it's the only one he played where I was like 'lemme go add that' and I really like it :')

Tagging @kookstempo @pamzn @parkdatjimin @haliiimede (i know you're so busy u can ignore this lmao) aaaand @highly-functioning-mitochondria

[caelesjjk]

sanguine | jjk | pt. 2

⟶title: sanguine pt. 2

⟶au: vampire au, arranged marriage au, royalty au

⟶ rating: 18+

⟶ genre: romance, kinda slow burn?, smut, angst

⟶wc: 12k

⟶warnings: some swearing, mentions of blood, blood drinking, biting, drowning, lots of sexual tension, a damn good kiss, Jungkook is the perfect man which makes for some very sweet moment, jealousy

⟶ summary: Marry the vampire king. Save the kingdom.

Your father is the king of a rare human kingdom that has been plagued by famine and sickness. And in a last ditch effort to save the kingdom, he has arranged for you to marry the vampire king to the north. Your hand in marriage in exchange for his help in saving your kingdom.

Everything you swore could never happen between the two of you begins to unfold as you spend more time in the vampire kingdom with its king and his subjects. Can you learn to love this place and it’s beloved ruler?

⟶ authors note: hello darklings, welcome to part 2 of the sanguine series. I cannot wait for you to read this and tell me your thoughts. So much happens in this chapter and the ride is just getting started. I also promise that the smut is coming. Not in this part, sorrrrrry. But so soon 👀

Special thanks once again to jords @jeonjcngkook , hali @haliiimede and Kay @tea4sykes for reading over this and convincing me it’s not crap and fixing all of my epic grammar mistakes. You guys are my hero’s honestly.

banner: @missgeniality

One last thing, this is a link to the playlist I made for when I’m writing Sanguine. It really sets the mood when reading too, enjoy!

Sleep evades you most of the day. You’re too exhilarated by the thoughts of what Jungkook plans to show you tonight. You’re unsettled, but even more curious.

You change your clothes several times, having no idea how to dress. Finally, you decide on a deep green velvet dress that just barely brushes the floor, its long sleeves and turtleneck have you hoping it will keep you warm in the new autumn breezes. The nights have become chilly recently.

You find a half cape made of fur to wrap around your shoulders before a knock echoes throughout your bed chambers. It makes you jump slightly from the sudden sound but you quickly recover, heading to the doors expecting it to be Jungkook on the other side.

“Ready to take our leave, my lady?” Yoongi bows to you as the door opens. 

“You’re coming too?” Confusion evident on your face. 

“I am.” Yoongi moves aside so that you can exit the room and walk ahead of him down the hallway. “Protecting the king and queen is in my job description.”

“Why will we need protecting?” You try to walk next to him, but he stays a step behind.

“I hope that you don’t, my lady.” Yoongi clasps his hands behind his back, some of his dark hair falling into his eyes as he watches you.

“Where are we going?” You ask.

“I think I should let the king give you that information.” 

“I’m the queen though, aren’t I? You have to tell me if I ask.” You lift a brow at him in defiance. Yoongi laughs quietly.

“Are you always this insistent, your highness?” He offers his hand to you as you approach the staircase. 

“Perhaps. How insistent must I be to get information out of you?” You place your hand into his, still not quite used to the cold feeling of vampire skin against your own.

“Let the king have his time.” Yoongi half smiles, helping you from the last step. You glare at him in disappointment, making him laugh quietly once more.

You pull your fur around you a bit closer and look towards the huge front doors of the castle where Jungkook and Seokjin are waiting. 

Jungkook looks…beautiful. Casual. Comfortable. His hair unstyled and hanging over his forehead. Brown dress slacks fitted against his muscular legs and tucked into knee height leather brown boots. His white button up shirt has more buttons undone than it does done up. It is absolutely maddening.

“Good evening, your highness.” Seokjin says, his cheery voice breaking you from ogling your husband for too long. You pray he didn’t notice.

“Good evening.” You clear your throat and bow as you approach the two of them.

“You look…” Jungkook starts to say.

“Is it too much? I had no idea how to dress for whatever it is we’re doing.” Your hands rub nervously at your thighs.

“Perfect.” Jungkook finishes, taking a step towards you. “You look perfect.” You feel heat rush to your cheeks at his words.

“Thank you.” You bite at your bottom lip, feeling lost for words when he’s so close. “You look nice too.”

“Was that a compliment, my queen?” Jungkook teases, holding out his arm for you to take. You roll your eyes.

“Do not get used to it.” You take the arm he’s offered, watching Seokjin open the doors so that the two of you can walk out first.

Outside on the stone path awaits a carriage, different from the one you remember riding in on the night of your wedding. This one seems smaller but still just as intricate in its gold embellishments and filigree wheel designs. 

Jungkook helps you inside, letting you slide to the other side of the bench seat before he joins you. Yoongi and Seokjin climb into the seat at the front, the former taking the reigns and bringing the horses to a gallop.

“May I know where we’re going now?” You don’t look at Jungkook, your eyes are too busy taking in the way the orange and red leaves glide down from the trees in the moonlight. They make an autumn colored blanket over the dirt road and waft out beneath the wheels of the carriage as it passes over them. Jungkook loves the wonderment on your face.

“To see the kingdom at night. I think the city of Asteria will be something you rather enjoy.” Jungkook finally gives you the information you’ve so desperately wanted since last night.

“Asteria?” You ask, breathless at merely just the name of it.

“You may hear others in the kingdom call it the city of stars. It’s the largest part of the kingdom where most of our subjects reside.” Jungkook leans forwards and looks out the window of the carriage with you. “It’s there, between those hillsides with the cliffs.”

As the carriage approaches the hillsides, you start to see more of what Jungkook is referring to. More lights. Soft and gentle and not too bright. Buildings, so many buildings. Large ones, small ones, some at ground level while others were built into the cliff side.

The closer that you got, the more you could hear. Voices of the subjects who lived here. Vampires. So many vampires. More than you imagined existed walking around the busy cobblestone streets. 

“This…these are all vampires?” You finally turn from the window to look at Jungkook.

“Yes.” He smiles gently. “It isn’t something we go around advertising. Keeps everyone safe that way.” 

You look at him dumbfounded for a moment before turning back to the window as the carriage comes to a stop. Yoongi and Seokjin don’t even have enough time to jump down from the front to open the doors before you’re swinging it open and jumping out, almost tripping on your skirt as you do. 

“Your majesty?” Yoongi scrambles down when he sees you, worry in voice.

You can barely hear him though. Every single one of your senses switching into overdrive as you take in the sight in front of you.

Flowers. There are thousands of flowers with their bright colors and heavenly fragrant smells. They’re lined in almost every windowsill on the main road in front of you. There are also shops and vendors placed throughout selling even more of them. It’s the most beautiful sight you’ve ever seen.

Your feet have adapted a mind of their own, propelling you forward towards all the hustle and bustle happening on the street. You almost forget that you didn’t arrive here alone.

“_____? Are you okay?” Jungkook’s hand comes to your shoulder and stops you from going further. When you turn to look at him you know your eyes must be blown wide as they can get.

“This is beautiful.” You bring your hand up to the one he’s resting on your shoulder and wrap your fingers around his. “Can we please go and see it?”

“As if I would deny you a single thing.” Jungkook smiles, moving your hand down from your shoulder and holding it instead. You look down at your intertwined hands for a moment before you’re taking off in a rush towards the busy market. Jungkook merely laughs at your excitement.

Overwhelmed is an understatement, as you try to take in everything along the busy street. There are large glass windows in front of all the shops, displaying some of the things you might find inside of them. 

Multiple shops are selling beautiful handmade clothing. Gorgeous dresses, embroidered shirts, sparkling skirts and dazzling leather. Your hands itch to run over the materials and feel them for yourself. But you’re too excited to go inside them, you need to see what else there is to discover in this beautifully hidden city.

You see jewelry shops stacked full of effervescent gems, chains of silver and gold, and bracelets made from both. There are also watches and braided leather. It’s absolutely incredible.

“See anything that you like?” Jungkook asks and you suddenly remember he’s still holding your hand as you drag him to all the shops.

“Oh. No, do not even think of it. It must all cost a fortune.” You shake your head at him.

“You continuously forget that you’re the queen of this whole kingdom, _____. Anything you want is yours.” Jungkook tucks a piece of hair behind your ear.

You look down at the blood drop shaped ring on your finger, wondering if this is the shop that made it for you when you married Jungkook. The ring doesn’t feel as heavy as it used to. It stopped burning your skin where it sits against your skin. It doesn’t remind you of the terrible days anymore. Now you only think of the vampire who slid it down your finger all those months ago.

“I have enough jewelry for now.” You squeeze his hand and move to the next shop. As you approach the window, you feel confusion wash over you like a massive wave. 

Toys. Children's toys.

“Why is there a toy shop?” Goosebumps cover your skin. “Vampires are forbidden from biting children.”

“You’re right, darling. We are forbidden from biting children.” Jungkook pulls your hand and brings you to stand at the corner of where one street meets another.

As your eyes focus on what he wants you to see, your breath leaves your lungs entirely. The sight in front of you is so shocking that your ability to think clearly has completely disappeared.

“What…children?” You whisper.

“Indeed. Born, not bitten.” Jungkook takes you closer to them.

“How? Vampires cannot have children.” 

“And who is it that told you that? Old legends and lore perhaps?” Jungkook rubs his thumb over your knuckles. “Vampires are capable of having children with other vampires. Works much the same way it does with humans.”

You can’t believe what you’re hearing, beginning to wonder if anything you thought you knew was true at all. Your chest feels heavy with this new information.

“What other lies have I been led to believe are true?” You can’t take your eyes off of the children running about in the grass kicking around a ball.

“We can debunk them as they come up. There’s no need to overwhelm you more right now.” 

Before Jungkook can say anything else, you’re letting go of his hand and jogging over toward the children. Once you reach them, you lower down onto your knees in front of them and they all stop their game to gather around and regard you. 

Their parents, you assume, all bow to you and encourage their children to do the same. 

“There’s no need for that.” You smile at them gently. “Do you think I could play your game with you?”

One of the little girls amongst the children steps forward, a look of confusion painting her sweet face.

“Don’t you hate us, your majesty?” She asks simply, your heart sinking in your chest.

“No. I could never hate you, little one.” You reach out and gently touch the cool skin of her hand, thankful that she doesn’t flinch away when you do.

“You can be on my team, your majesty.” She smiles, her little fangs poking out and reminding you that even though she’s small, she is a vampire. 

But that doesn’t seem to bother you at all.

“I would like that very much.” You let her take your hand and lead you towards the area where they were playing their game.

Looking back over your shoulder, you see Jungkook standing nearby with Yoongi and Seokjin a few steps behind. His arms are crossed over his broad chest as he watches you with a fond smile. You smile back just before the children begin shouting and explaining the rules of their game to you.

You lose track of time. Not sure at all how long you’ve been playing with the children. Your skin is warm and flushed from chasing the ball around and running about. 

Jungkook still waits for you, he and Yoongi talking as you pick up your fur cloak you had discarded earlier in the game from the ground. His eyes meet yours while you’re watching him, neither of you breaking that eye contact for what seems like forever. 

“Did you enjoy the game?” Seokjin asks, suddenly at your side.

“I had a lot of fun, yes.” You attempt to smooth out your hair to no avail.

“I don’t think many queens would be caught playing games with children of the kingdom. It was rather heartwarming considering how you once felt about them.” Seokjin says, not meaning to be rude. You appreciate the honesty.

“I am not sure how I feel. But what I do know, is that I was far too harsh towards the people of this kingdom. Whether they are vampires or not, I never should have said the things I did.” You sigh, walking slowly towards Jungkook and Yoongi with Seokjin at your side.

“I was the same way, you know. I hated them. Vampires have the worst reputations in this realm. But they’ve never tried to dispel the rumors…makes them seem dangerous. Keeps them safe.” 

“I think that I have a lot to make up for. I have not been an easy person to deal with these past few months.” 

“Don’t be too hard on yourself, your majesty. I think you’ll find if you keep your heart open here, you’ll be surprised by what can happen.” Seokjin smiles, the apples of his cheeks lifting in the cutest way.

“I’ll do my best.” You lift a hand to give his shoulder a squeeze, pulling it back a little too quickly when you feel how warm he is. “Are you okay? You’re burning up.”

“Ah, yes. No need to worry. It’s a werewolf thing, blood temperature is warmer than a humans and far warmer than a vampires.” Seokjin assures you.

“It seems I’ll learn something new around here every day.” 

“That will make two of us, my lady.” Seokjin bows to you as you reach Jungkook and makes his way towards another group of people.

“Did you have a nice time?” Jungkook asks.

“Yes, I did.” You smile at each other, knowing your cheeks are warming the longer that you look at him.

“Shall we return to the castle soon?” 

“If that’s what you wish to do.”

“We can come here whenever you like. I admittedly do not do it enough these days.” Jungkook holds out his hand for you to take and you do without thought. 

“I’ll keep that in mind, your highness.” You let him gently lead you back towards the busy street you had entered the city on.

“May I ask you something?” Jungkook inquires.

“Yes.”

“Do you still have that kitchen knife strapped to your thigh?” His eyes seem to darken slightly as he watches your face.

You aren’t sure what comes over you, but you pull his hand to a stop, looking around to make sure no other eyes will hone in on what you’re about to do.

Swiftly, you lift the slit of your dress a little higher up your thigh, revealing the same kitchen knife that you had come by in Hoseok’s kitchen all those months ago.

“Just in case.” You smirk as Jungkook groans quietly. 

“You’re bewitching, do you know that?” Jungkook stares at your thigh until you let your dress fall back into place. 

“And you are out of your mind.” You laugh with a shake of your head.

“I merely appreciate beauty in the form of a woman with a weapon strapped to her thigh.” Jungkook's smile reaches his eyes revealing his perfectly shaped teeth, along with his own set of sharp weapons. It doesn’t frighten you as much as it likely should anymore.

“Masochist.” You tease, putting your hand back into his.

“Only for you, my queen.” He brings your hand up to his lips, brushing a kiss against your knuckles. 

It catches you off guard, to feel his cool lips against your skin. The contrast is maddening in an unexplainable way. The invigorating touch of his kiss and the burning hot fire that ignites in your belly.

The two of you stare at each other for a moment, letting it sink in that Jungkook has just done something very intimate with you. The most intimate the two of you have been and it was merely just a kiss to your hand.

“Are you okay?” He finally asks. You nod your head yes. “Good. I want to make one more quick stop before we take our leave then.”

“Of course.” You clear your throat.

You walk with him down the street until you reach a shop with leather workings in the window. All sorts of intricate belts and straps with the most beautiful details hang from the displays.

“Wait here a moment?” He asks, releasing your hand as he heads inside the shop. You nod and turn to see Yoongi standing behind you.

“Your highness.” He says, bowing slightly.

“You’re never too far from Jungkook, are you?” You smile tenderly and he does the same.

“He is my king and my oldest friend. I only wish to look out for him.” 

“Was Jungkook born or bitten?” You ask curiously.

“Bitten, my lady.” 

“He was human once.” You say more to yourself than to Yoongi, letting the thought sink in.

“A very long time ago.” Yoongi steps up a bit closer. “He was chosen to be the king because he refused to stand down when the king before him sentenced us all to death.”

“How?” 

“The former king disapproved of making treaties with the humans. But obviously, we require their blood to live.”

“That’s something I’ve been curious about…how do you get the blood?”

“Donations. Humans come to us by their own will and are paid handsomely for their donations. The people of your kingdom have been given this option now as well.” Yoongi looks in the shop window, making sure that he can see Jungkook.

“There are not many human kingdoms left.” You say, sadness evident in your voice.

“Jungkook hopes to prevent any more loss. We need each other to survive.” Yoongi bows once more when he sees Jungkook is walking towards the exit of the shop.

Everything Yoongi has told you just now, has your brain reeling. You were never kept in the loop enough as a princess in your fathers kingdom, it wasn’t your right. You didn’t know half the things going on in this realm that you really should have known.

“Have something for you.” Jungkook says, breaking you from your thoughts.

“You didn’t need to.”

“I rather think this gift is necessary.” Half his mouth rising into a smile. “Come here.” Jungkook lowers down onto one knee in front of you.

“What are you doing?” Your eyes widen in surprise.

“No one is looking, and if they do I’ll kill them. Place your foot here.” He pats the top of his thigh.

“Have you gone mad?” You hiss through your teeth at him.

“Trust me, darling. Aren’t you curious about what I have for you?” Jungkooks tongue slyly licks over one of his fangs as he watches your face.

“Fine then.” You look around once more before lifting your foot and placing it on Jungkook’s thigh as he requested. Your dress slides up and reveals your makeshift knife sheath.

“You are immaculate.” His eyes hungrily roam your exposed skin. Like he could quite literally consume you whole. 

His fingertips come to your skin, sliding up and burning in their wake. It didn’t matter that his skin was cool to the touch, he was setting you ablaze. They stop at the sheath wrapped around your thigh, removing the knife before far too easily ripping the material away.

“Jungkook…” You barely recognize your voice.

“You see, my queen. If you insist on carrying a weapon, and I so hope that you do,” he pauses for a moment, taking something out of the giftbag next to him, “You should at least have a proper sheath.”

Jungkook withdraws a black piece of leather from the bag, holding it up to show you. The leather looks so soft that it could possibly be velvet. Silver threads sewn into intricate designs up and down the surface. It’s an absolutely stunning piece of work.

You slide your foot through the opening, letting Jungkook glide the sheath up your leg until it fits snugly around your thigh. He lets his hands roam your skin and you instinctively feel the need to clench your thighs together to keep the foreign feelings at bay.

“It’s really beautiful.” You whisper to only him.

“You’re so deliciously soft. It’s fucking maddening.” Leaning forward, his nose skims your knee. Your eyes fall shut, lips trembling slightly.

“Why?”

“Every day is a new test of my restraint, my queen.” He moves his face back away from your skin, trying to breathe in air that wasn’t full of you.

“Are you restraining yourself from biting me?” You open your eyes slowly, just in time to see Jungkook rise from his knee to stand in front of you.

“Yes.” He answers, making you shudder. “But I never will. Not unless you ask me to. I would never hurt you.”

Before you had spent all this time with Jungkook in the vampire kingdom, you would have been disgusted by the mere thought of him biting you…drinking your blood. But now the only thoughts in your head are whether it would really hurt. Would he kill you? Would it change you into a vampire as well?

Yoongi and Seokjin return and give you an excuse not to continue the conversation further and decide to return to the carriage instead. 

“Did I frighten you?” Jungkook inquires gently.

“No.” You release a shaky breath. “I think I’ve just begun to forget that you’re a vampire. It must be very difficult for you to be around me.” 

“Don’t do that.” 

“Don’t do what?”

“Don’t start blaming yourself. I would suffer a thousand years before I ever let you do that.” He declares, voice stable and a little stern.

“I just don’t like the idea of making your life more difficult than it already is.” You huff, scooting over across the bench seat to put more space between the two of you.

“It’s very selfless of you to feel that way.” His fingers tuck a piece of hair behind your ear, cool skin brushing over the skin of your jaw until they reach your chin, gently bringing your face around to look at him once more. “But you are the most important thing to me now. I will never do anything you do not ask of me. I mean that. I do not care about the discomforts it causes me.”

“Now who’s being selfless?” You tease, leaning into his touch when his hand slides to cup your cheek.

“Stubborn girl.” He mumbles quietly. 

The carriage suddenly feels very small. And very warm. The look on Jungkook’s face as he studies you, makes you shift in your seat. All of these new feelings for him begin to bubble at the surface and beg to be released. If only you weren’t such a coward.

“Have you gotten any word from Taehyung?” You clear your throat and slowly move your face away from his gentle touch. Jungkook smiles, but it’s more out of frustration than anything else.

“We expect to hear from him in the next few days. I’m sure he will want an audience.” Jungkook sighs, leaning back against the seat and running a hand through his silky hair.

“Will he come to the castle?” A different type of nerve pricks your stomach. You do not know much of Taehyung other than he is a ruthless leader always waiting for the next fight.

“If I allow him, yes. And I think it best to have these conversations with him on my terms.” Jungkooks jaw is tight and sharp as he finishes speaking.

“He wants to bargain for my fathers kingdom, doesn’t he?” 

“Yes.” He turns his body towards you. “But no matter what he says or offers, I will not let him take it. I made a promise to your father and to you.” 

You don’t speak of it any further on the way back to the castle. But your mind continues to reel with thoughts of the merciless werewolf king and his unwavering determination to rule your fathers kingdom. You know Jungkook will do his best to keep everyone safe, but at what cost?

The carriage stops in front of the castle's huge front doors, Seokjin jumping down from the seat at the front to open the door for you and Jungkook. 

“Are you hungry?” Jungkook asks, taking your hand to help you step down from the carriage.

“A bit, yes.” You continue to hold his hand as the two of you ascend the stairs, the doors opening as you approach so that you can enter.

“Shall I have Hoseok make something for you? Seokjin is probably hungry as well.” Jungkook points out something that you had not thought of during your time here. Jin is not a vampire and requires food as well. How silly of you not to think of such a thing.

“Could hear your stomach growling the whole ride back, my queen.” Jin teases as he comes up behind the two of you. 

“Perhaps a little.” You laugh quietly, eyes finally honing in on the group of people standing at the foot of the grand staircase. “Who are they?”

“You need to eat your meal, and I need to have mine.” Jungkook squeezes your hand but you suddenly feel uncomfortable.

A woman in a pale pink dress steps forward as you approach, curtsying to Jungkook but not to you. She’s very pretty, small and petite. Her hair is swept up neatly but the smile on her face is vicious.

“My king.” She says in an overly sweet voice that makes your skin crawl.

“Celeste.” Jungkook addresses her. “Shall I meet with you after you have your dinner?” He’s speaking to you but all you can do is stare at the woman in front of you.

“Will you be long?” You clear your throat, crossing your arms over your chest.

“Not long.” Jungkook smirks, sensing your unrealized jealousy.

“I’ll just head to bed after dinner. Enjoy your…meal.”

“Do not worry your majesty, I will take good care of the king.” Celeste practically purrs. You want to stab her in the neck with your kitchen knife. 

“I’m sure you will.” Grabbing your skirt in your hands you stomp off towards the kitchen to find Hoseok and beg him to talk you out of murder.

You slam open the swinging door of the kitchen causing poor unsuspecting Hoseok to screech and almost drop his mixing bowl. You’re pacing the floor before he even has a chance to recover.

“Did you know Jungkook has a woman that he drinks from? A pretty little thing. He had the audacity to introduce her to me. As if I give a fuck.” You grab a piece of bread off the counter top and bite into it with very little care.

“First of all, could you please stop barging in here like this? You’re going to give me a heart attack.” Hoseok sits the mixing bowl down, wiping his hands on his apron. “Second, don’t say fuck, it’s very unqueenly.”

You glare at him and savagely take another bite off the bread you were eating. 

“Why do you care who he drinks blood from? You don’t even like him.” Hobi laughs and shakes his head before your eyes meet his. “Wait…you do like him! When did that change?”

“It hasn’t! I mean not really…I don’t know! All I know is that I do not like the idea of him drinking from her.”

“Why?”

“Because it’s…I’m told it’s very intimate. Drinking someone’s blood…it’s very intimate.” You can feel sweat forming on the nape of your neck.

“So what you’re saying is that you don’t want him to be intimate with her?”

“Correct. There’s something not right about her.” 

“Then do you want him to be intimate with you?” Hobi stops what he’s doing and stands in front of you to halt your pacing.

The question throws you completely off guard. You should know the answer. You should not want the answer to be yes. You hate the thought of Jungkook being that close to anyone else.

“No! How could you say that!” You smack his shoulder.

“What do you propose he do then? He needs blood like you need food. You’re being unreasonable.” Hoseok rubs his shoulder.

“Who’s side are you on Hobi?” You pout your bottom lip, sad that you know he’s right.

“I’m always on your side.” He hands you another piece of bread before continuing. “But I think you need to tell the king how you feel.”

“Well that’s not going to happen.” You scoff. “I don’t…I don’t know how I feel about the king.”

“Yes you do. You’re just a stubborn ass that doesn’t want to admit it.” 

“You cannot call me an ass! I’m the queen!” You laugh, only slightly surprised at his words. Hoseok has always been honest with you.

“A queen that I have known quite literally my entire life. Would it really be so bad to love him, ____?” 

Love. You were especially unsure of what love meant. You felt the love of your father…from Hoseok as your friend. But you had never been in love. It was something you always assumed you would just know as soon as it happened. You also thought you would marry for love and maybe you hadn’t at the time…but now? Now you still didn’t know.

“I need to get some air.” You tell Hoseok, moving towards the door.

“At least take this food with you.” He hands you a basket with more bread, along with some cheese and fruits. You notice a second basket sitting on the counter.

“Who’s that for?” 

“Seokjin. He has to eat food too.”

“I’m aware of that now.” You look at its contents a little closer. “Why does he have more in his basket?” You raise a suspicious brow.

“He’s a werewolf. He requires more food than a nosy little human queen.” Hobi pinches your side, pushing you towards the door. “Out of here, you menace.”

You can’t help but laugh, still feeling slightly suspicious of Hoseok and his beautifully packed food basket. But you decide to let it go for now, turning to hug him quickly before leaving the kitchen and finding yourself alone in the dimly lit hallway.

It doesn’t take long to find your way into the garden. You weren’t sure where else to take out your annoyance and frustrations. 

Annoyed that you let that blood bag of a girl get under your skin.

Frustrated that you cared.

“Digging somewhere in particular?” Jungkooks familiar voice says from behind you. You don’t turn to look at him.

“I’m not sure what you mean.” 

“The hole you’ve dug has gotten rather large.” 

You roll your eyes, finally focusing on the ground you had been digging at. You’re surprised to see that he’s right, you’ve been so inside your head that you had no idea how long you had been digging in the same spot. This annoys you even more, taking your small shovel and shoving it into the ground in front of you as if it were a sword.

“Do you need something?” You stand from the ground, brushing off your knees in the process.

“You seemed upset earlier. I wanted to know why.” Jungkook stands with his hands behind his back, not coming closer.

“I am not upset.” 

“You are.”

You roughly grab a rake from where it sits against the concrete fountain, walking to a different spot to make more distance between the two of you.

“You are mistaken.” You start to rake some of the fallen leaves that were making a mess of your flower beds.

“Tell me what you are thinking then.” Jungkook comes a bit closer, trying not to smile as he watches you. You don’t answer for a moment.

“I’m thinking about stabbing you.” You throw the rake to the ground and trudge towards Jungkook who stands unmoving. “I’m thinking that you’re probably having sex with your dinner as well.” 

“I love when you threaten me with sharp objects.” Jungkook smiles widely and it makes your blood boil.

“You should have stopped feeding from her when we got married. It’s the least you could do.” 

“Would you like me to?” He asks. 

“Yes!” You throw your hands up.

“Done. You’ll never see her again.” 

“Then you’ll just get another woman to drink from?” 

“Are you offering to let me drink from you?” His infuriating brow raises.

“I…I don’t know.”

“Are you afraid that I’ll turn you?”

“No. I know that you won’t.”

“Not unless you ask me to.” His fingers come beneath your chin, grasping it gently to bring your eyes to his. “I will do anything that you ask of me. But I need to eat.” 

“Does it hurt?” 

“For a moment. But what follows is the opposite.” His fingers move along your jaw, caressing the skin.

“Will you…fuck me when you drink from me?” The words fall from your mouth before you can sugar coat them in any way. Jungkook growls quietly in his chest.

“Such a filthy mouth.” His thumb brushes over your lips. “Do you want me to fuck you, my queen?”

“I do not know.” You breathe, eyes falling shut when he closes the last bit of distance and his nose skims over yours.

“I think that you do know, but are afraid to admit that you may in fact want such a thing.” You can practically feel his lips ghosting yours as he speaks. Your breathing is ragged and the burning in the pit of your stomach is spreading to the apex of your thighs.

The earth feels as though it could crumble beneath you at any moment and swallow you whole. He was so close to you. Breath fanning your lips. All you have to do is lean forward and you can kiss him. Tell him that he’s right and you do want that. You want it so badly that it’s making you feel deranged.

But instead of giving into the desire, you pull back. You need to get out of his intoxicating presence and his addictive smell. 

“I should go.” You try to bow and almost trip, stumbling away towards the back stairs that lead into the castle.

You don’t make it to the stairs though, a strong hand seizing the back of your neck and spinning you back around to face him. He doesn’t give you any time to protest, full lips coming down to cover yours, stealing away the breath in your chest and lungs. Your eyes flutter closed at the gentle way he cups your cheek and neck. 

Jungkook is kissing you. You feel such shock that you don’t realize you haven’t kissed back just yet. When your wits return your hands seize his hair, tangling in the dark locks and pulling him closer to you. He hums against your lips, his tongue begging at the seam to slip inside the cavern of your mouth.

You’ve never kissed anyone this way. You don’t know if you’ll do it right. But you part your lips and let Jungkook take the lead, his tongue skimming your lips once more before the kiss deepens and your tongue is moving with his. 

One of Jungkook's hands leaves your face and travels down your side to your waist until it reaches your lower back, bringing you flush against him. Your own hands come down from his hair and wrap around his neck instead. 

Everything feels so warm. How could a man who is cool to the touch feel so warm when he’s kissing you? 

When Jungkook withdraws his lips from yours, you feel dizzy, afraid to open your eyes. But you want to see his face, see if he has been as affected by the most perfect kiss you had ever experienced, so you will them to amble open.

The way that he’s already looking at you makes the fire in your stomach spread to your muscles and bones. His eyes are so dark, that crimson red ring that surrounds his irises just a bit brighter than usual. He looks as if he wants to devour you and you know that you would let him in an instant.

“Are you alright?” He finally asks.

“I am.” You ache to touch him again. “Are you?”

“I was afraid you would consume me. Steal away the small bit of humanity I have left…but it was so easy.” He smiles softly, reaching out to touch your warm cheek.

“You kissed me that way without knowing if you’d lose control?” You glare at him.

“I told you I would never hurt you. That was not a lie. But my desire…no, my need for you is something I’ve never experienced.” 

“Idiot!” You step forward and push against his hard chest. He doesn’t budge, but it gets your point across. “I should have stabbed you! You could ha-“ Your sentence is cut off by his lips on yours again. 

This kiss is much more bruising than the last. Jungkook wants you to understand that he’s in control of himself and that your life means everything to him. Your blood sings to him, it begs him to drink from you and not leave a single drop behind. But he won’t let that monster win, not when it comes to you.

Your fingers grip at the soft fabric of his shirt, needing something to anchor you to the earth before you float away. 

“I should walk you to your rooms. The sun will be up soon.” Jungkook's lips stay close to yours as he speaks, his lashes tickling your cheek when he kisses it.

“Okay.” You try to breathe in deeply, something to steady your mind. His lips move to your temple, pressing a kiss there before the defined shape of his body leaves yours.

“Come.” Jungkook takes your hand, leading you back inside. He doesn’t let go as you make your way through the halls and up the staircase to your rooms.

“I may have forgotten to say thank you earlier. For showing me Asteria. It really was incredible.” You stand close to your bedroom door, eyes falling to the floor when you feel unable to look at him. But he won’t have any of that.

“We have much to prepare for in the coming days…” His fingers brush your jaw and cup it to bring your eyes to his. “And we must also prepare for your coronation celebration.” 

“My what?” Confusion veils your face. “I didn’t think we would be having one.”

“The kingdom loves an excuse to have a party.” He laughs quietly. “And you deserve a formal welcome as Queen here.”

“I’m still not sure that anyone in the kingdom wants me here.” You step up a little closer, seeking the new found comfort Jungkook’s presence brings you.

“Anyone who has an issue with you ruling as queen here can easily be exterminated.” 

“You wouldn’t do such things.”

“For you? I think you underestimate the lengths I will go to keep you safe, darling.” A soft kiss to your lips that has your knees trembling.

“Masochist.” You smile against his mouth, teeth bumping his when he does the same.

“You should sleep before I throw you over my shoulder and have my way with you in my rooms instead.” One last kiss to your forehead as if he didn’t just threaten to have his way with you.

“I am rather tired…suppose I’ll need to call on my ladies in waiting to help me out of this dress.” You decide to tease him as well, letting the shoulder of your dress slip off slightly when you turn to open the door.

“Your husband is here now, isn’t he?” Jungkook glares, fingers itching to touch your exposed skin.

“You should rest, my king.” You bow to him, knowing your cleavage will spill out and his eyes do not miss it.

“______.” He groans your name, but you’re already slipping into your room.

“Goodnight, Jungkook.” You close the door when he tries to step closer, pressing your back to the cool wood, listening to him whine on the other side before it gets quiet and you know he’s gone to bed.

A few days have passed and Taehyung has not yet sent word of when we will be arriving in the vampire kingdom to discuss your fathers land.

It baffles you each time you think of it. Why would someone want the land of your kingdom so badly? It wasn’t as if it was more special than any other kingdom in the realm. 

You find yourself walking the halls just as the sun has fallen beneath the horizon, the clouds swirling with deep blues and hues of purple. A perfect twilight.

“My queen.” Yoongi suddenly appears, making you almost jump out of your skin.

“General.” You manage to squeak out.

“Are you well?” He asks.

“Honestly…I’m rather bored.” Yoongi smiles at your statement, the endearing gums above his teeth showing along with the dangerous shape of his fangs.

“Shall I teach you something then?” He questions.

“What will you teach me, General?” 

“I’ve heard you’re harboring a knife for safety.” He chuckles quietly. “I thought perhaps you might want to learn how to use blades properly.”

“You’ll teach me to fight?” Your eyes light up at his words.

“To protect yourself.” Yoongi begins to walk down the hall, looking back over his shoulder at you. “Are you coming?” 

“Yes!” You almost stumble trying to move your feet too quickly, but manage to follow him without injury.

Yoongi brings you to a large room downstairs, the walls filled with weapons of every sort. There are mats made of a padded material spread out across the floor as well.

In one corner of the room, you notice a very large pile of silver fur, and said pile of fur seems to be…breathing.

“What is that?” You ask, voice shaking slightly.

“That…” Yoongi smiles, “is Seokjin.” 

“Oh…” You continue to stare, never having seen Seokjin in his werewolf form.

He had taken some time a few days ago to explain that he’s in fact, a lycan, he was born and not bitten. The kind that depends on the moon to change are werewolves that were bitten by a lycan.

Jin hears the two of you approach and lifts his head, ears perked before he bows his large head to greet you. You return the gesture.

“Are you going to stay and watch me teach the queen how to use a blade?” Yoongi directs his question towards Jin.

Jin huffs through his nose once, laying back down with his eyes on the two of you.

“Is that a yes?” You wonder.

“It is. He also said that if I hurt you he will rip out my throat.” Yoongi smiles again, pointing the sword he had just picked up from a table towards Jin across the room.

“How would you know he said that? He didn’t speak.” 

“Because I can read his mind.” Yoongi says so matter of factly.

“You…I’m sorry. You can read his mind?” 

“Yes, my lady. He can read mine as well. It happens between beings like us after we’ve spent long amounts of time together.” Yoongi picks up another sword and hands it to you but you’re too distracted, almost dropping it to the ground.

“Can you read mine?” You’re absolutely fascinated and terrified at the same time.

“No, I cannot. We haven’t known each other long and you are very…human.” Yoongi adjusts your grip on the sword while you barely pay attention.

“What about Jungkook? Can he read my mind?” 

“That’s a question the king will need to answer.” You can hear the frustration in Yoongi's voice as he continues to try and help you hold the sword while you barely acknowledge what he’s doing. 

“Fascinating.” You mumble.

“If you will, my lady, hold the sword.” He finally says.

“Oh, yes. I’ve got it.” You’ve held a sword before, but have never needed to use one in any type of battle. 

Yoongi begins to explain that the movement is all in your wrist but the strength comes from using force from your upper body. He goes over the basics: how to hold the sword, how to step, how to avoid counterattacks and how to do some very simple counter attacks of your own.

You can feel sweat forming on your brow and dripping down your back. You haven’t done this much physical activity in quite some time.

“You’re doing well, your majesty.” Yoongi compliments.

“I wish I could know it all, all at once.” You sigh, leaning against the wall. Yoongi laughs quietly.

“With due time.” He places his sword back on the table. “We can train whenever you like, as long as the king doesn’t have me out and about.”

“I would like that very much, General.” You smile and he does the same as you place your sword into the holster.

As you do, the sheath pinches your finger and makes a small cut. You hold it up with a wince, seeing a small drop of blood form on the tip.

“All that swinging a sword around with no injury only to get a cut from a small pinch.” You wipe it against your thigh, wondering why Yoongi has become so quiet.

It did not click in your mind that this would be a problem.

“You need to get out of here. Right now!” Yoongi half yells and half growls, breathing rapidly through his mouth. The earthy color of his eyes was now soaked in a blood red.

“I’m sorry…” You take a step back towards the exit door, tripping over the table leg and landing on your back.

“Your blood…it’s screaming at me.” Yoongi groans and covers his ears with his hands, trying to stop himself from pouncing on you and draining you dry.

In the next moment, a mass of silver fur appears in front of you, blocking Yoongi from moving any closer. Seokjin growls deep in his chest, the rumble of it vibrating your bones. He turns his head towards you, nudging you with his nose and huffing, silently telling you to get out now.

You don’t hesitate, scrambling from the floor and dashing out the exit door and up the stone stairway. You look back once, only to run directly into the chest of your husband.

“What’s going on?” He asks, hands steadying your shoulders.

“I’m sorry. I didn’t mean to…I didn’t even think.” You're prattling on and making no sense you’re sure.

“Shh.” Jungkook hushes you, cupping your face in his hands. “Look at me and tell me what’s happened.”

“Yoongi was teaching me to use a sword…for protection. I just…I nicked my finger a little…I’m so sorry.” You feel as though you’re unable to string a coherent sentence together.

“Did he hurt you?” Jungkook asks, jaw tightening.

“What? No, he didn’t hurt me. Seokjin was there, he stepped between us so I could leave.” Jungkooks face softens a little at that bit of information. You’re about to speak again when Jin comes up the stairs in his human form.

“Are you okay, your majesty?” He asks the question to you, but looks at Jungkook. They’re talking with their minds.

“I’m fine.” You tenderly take Jungkook's hands from your face so you can turn to face Jin. “Where is Yoongi? Is he alright?”

“He could have killed you and you’re wondering if he’s well?” Jungkook shakes his head, a slight smile on his lips.

“It wasn’t his fault. I was bleeding in front of a vampire…and he resisted.” 

“Yoongi will be fine, my lady. He just needs a moment.” Jin bows to you and Jungkook, obviously saying something else with his mind before heading back down the stairs.

“That’s going to get very frustrating.” You exhale loudly, turning back to face your husband who has an amused look on his face.

“I suppose my General filled you in on more than just swordsmanship.” Jungkook takes one of your hands in his, bringing it to his lips and brushing a kiss across the knuckles.

“Can you read my mind?” You ask, trying not to crumble at the feeling of his cool lips on your skin.

“No. That may take time to happen.” Jungkook turns your hand over to inspect the small cut on the top of your finger.

“Why does my blood not bother you?” 

“It does.” He stares at your finger, swallowing harshly.

“Then why are you torturing yourself by being close to me now?”

“Because I will never hurt you.”

“I know.” Gods, you want him to kiss you again.

“I should kill Yoongi for even thinking of hurting you.” Jungkooks mouth was suddenly covering yours. Was he sure he couldn’t read your mind?

You allow the kiss and the rush of warmth that spreads through your body before your mind catches up, pushing Jungkook back from you.

“You will do no such thing. Yoongi is your friend. Promise me right now that you will not harm him in any way.” You look at him sternly.

“Seeing as I’m afraid you may stab me if I don’t do as you say, I suppose I’ll let the General keep his life.” He grabs your waist, pulling you back against his body.

“I’m glad I’ve gotten my point across about the stabbing.” Your hands travel up his chest, fidgeting with the lapels of his jacket. Jungkook smiles as he lifts your chin with his fingers to look at him.

“I came to find you so that I could speak with you about something.” He whispers the words, breath fanning your lips.

“And what would that be, my king?” 

“I like when you call me your king…very much.” He playfully kisses your lips and makes you giggle. An actual giggle leaves your mouth.

“Stop changing the subject! What did you want to speak about?” You hold him at arm's length until he tells you what he needs to. His face becomes much more serious.

“Taehyung arrives the day after tomorrow. He’ll be here at sunset.”

“Oh.” You knew the time to meet Taehyung was coming but it was still surprising to hear the news. “Should we make arrangements?”

“That’s what I want to talk about, _____. I think it would be best if you stayed away while Taehyung is here.” Jungkook's eyes are on the floor as he speaks, he knows this won’t go well.

“Suddenly you want to keep me out of things? How did you think this conversation would go, Jungkook? That I’d be your good little wife and submit to your request? I refuse!” You push past him, starting towards the staircase.

“I thought perhaps you would be reasonable.” Jungkook sighs, his inhuman speed bringing him in front of you again.

“If you wanted a quiet and pliant wife you should have married your blood bag.” You scowl, fully prepared to pull your knife out of the sheath.

“You’re pulling away.”

“You’re pushing me out! Why? I want to know why.” You step up and shove your finger into his chest.

“Because Taehyung is already aware of our marriage. Now he knows that I have a weakness. I want to keep you out of harm's way where he can use you against me.” Jungkook takes one of your hands in his, begging you with his eyes to understand.

“If that’s the case, your highness, then perhaps we should be showing Taehyung that I am not a weakness and will not take his threats.” You yank your hand from his, walking up the stairs without another word from Jungkook.

Once again, sleep evades you. Every time you close your eyes you see the hurt look on Jungkook's face when you walk away and it makes tears threaten to escape.

The sun is still up, beginning its descent to drop below the horizon. You throw off your covers and make your way over to the window. Tiredly, you undo the latch and push open the panes.

It’s a strangely warm day out for this time of year. A comfortable breeze brings the scent of the flowers and trees floating into your room and tickling your nose. 

You breathe it deep into your lungs. It feels good to just breathe.

Out past the gardens, you can see a turquoise colored lake. Willow trees surround it and dangle their long branches across the water's surface. It’s stunning and enticing.

Not having been out in the sun for months, you decide to forfeit sleep and make your way outside the castle to the lake that felt as if it was calling your name.

You wrap a shawl around your shoulders, quietly padding through the halls and down the staircase towards the back doors. Quickly, you check on your flowers in the garden and thankfully they are all taking nicely to the soil and growing.

Looking towards the veranda across the garden, your eyes fall onto the oversized pile of silver fur that you’ve come to know. Seokjin lays in a ray of sun, warming his muscles and bones and soaking it in. You’ve seen him do this quite often. He must miss the sun as well at times.

His head lifts when he hears you begin to walk across the lawn.

“It’s okay, Jin. I’m only going for a walk.” You reassure him. He tilts his head to the side, huffing through his nose. “You don’t need to accompany me. Enjoy the sun.” Jin whines a little and lays his head back against the stones.

You make sure that he doesn’t decide to follow you before continuing the short journey to the lake. The long grass tickles your calves and fingertips when you flatten your palms to feel the silky blades. 

When you reach the bank of the lake you breathe in as deeply as you can manage. Everything smells fresh and earthy. The urge to get into the water is too hard to ignore even though you know it will be cold this time of year.

Gingerly, you slip off your boots and the shawl you had grabbed on the way out of your bedroom. The breeze makes you shiver when more of your skin is exposed to the outside elements, but you ignore it, standing at the water's edge in only a flimsy camisole and sleep shorts.

Unable to resist any longer, you step into the water, pushing away any protest from your body as the cold water rises up your body the farther you submerge. 

You let your body float on top of the pool, tendrils of your hair sticking to your face. Floating here may be the closest thing you can imagine to heaven. Light. Airy. Blanketed. Free. It was almost overwhelming.

As you begin to move your arms to move across the top of the water, something seizes your foot and pulls you back. Jolting upwards, you look around frantically but the surface of the water appears calm as far as you can see. You almost begin to wonder if you had imagined it happening.

But something feels wrong.

Swimming back towards the shore, your heart pounds in your chest. You almost make it before you’re being pulled under completely.

You hold your breath but you’re losing air too quickly. Daring to look down, you see a creature with pitch black eyes and orange fins sticking out in every direction on its face. It smiles when your eyes meet, it’s mouth full of sharp teeth.

You scream. It won’t do any good beneath the water but you scream and thrash and try to kick your foot free from its grasp to no avail. 

Looking up, the sun dances across the surface of the water in the most beautiful way. You’ve never taken the time to see it from this side of the water. And you suppose if this is how you have to die, there could be much worse views to have.

Losing too much air, your body begins to tire and your vision becomes blurry. 

You hope that your father knows that you love him. Even if he kept so much from you, you know his intentions were to protect you. You miss him. You wish you could have the chance to invite him back to the vampire kingdom and see it properly.

You also hope that Hoseok won’t miss you too much. You hope Jungkook will take care of him and make sure he can still cook for Seokjin. You hope he knows how much he and his friendship means to you. You’d be so lost without him in this life.

How you wish you could have at least said goodbye to Jungkook. Tell him that you didn’t hate him if he didn’t already know. That you had started to warm up to the idea of living here with him for the rest of your days. That…kissing him was the single best feeling you’ve ever experienced. If the gods would let you live now you swear you’d tell him.

Your surroundings begin to fade and the last sliver of hope you held onto goes with it. The claws of the creature scratch at your skin and pull you farther down.

A loud crashing sound reverberates around you but you’re unable to open your eyes to see what it is. But what you can feel is the creature releasing you very suddenly. If only you had strength left to swim back up to the surface.

Strong familiar arms wrap around your waist, jerking your body and bringing you out of the water in an instant. Why can’t you open your eyes?

“_____. Look at me. Open your eyes right now.” You recognize Jungkook's voice as it floats into your ears. “Come on, my darling, look at me.”

Water suddenly fills your throat, making you twist to the side to spit it out, coughing and choking slightly. You gasp for air to fill your lungs again and your eyes finally open.

You turn back towards Jungkook.

“There you are, my queen.” Jungkook smiles, softly stroking your cheek. He’s holding you in his lap, an arm behind your head holding you upright.

“You saved me.” Your voice feels hoarse and scratchy.

“I do wish you wouldn’t go swimming with nymphs, darling.” He teases. 

“Thank you.” You cup his cheek in your hand. But when you touch his skin, it’s not the usual cool temperature you’ve come to know. It’s burning hot and blisters are forming in places across his face and exposed arms.

“It’s okay…I’m okay.” Jungkook winces.

“Jungkook…what’s happening? What is it?” It takes your mind too long to catch up with the situation. 

Jungkook is a vampire and he is outside in the sunlight.

“Shit. What should I do? How do I stop it?” Your body aches but you don’t care, you force yourself to sit up.

Jungkook's eyes roll to the back of his skull and he falls onto his back from his sitting position. Panic floods your veins like wildfire.

“Jungkook!” You scramble onto your knees, throwing yourself on top of him. You cover his body with yours to block out the sun the best that you can. “Seokjin!” You scream. “Please hurry!”

You pull Jungkook’s arms beneath you making sure they stay covered from the sun. His beautiful flawless skin is covered in burns and chars. Fuck…how do you make it stop?!

Seokjin comes over the hill in his wolf form, lifting his head up towards the sky and releasing a long howl. After, he rushes towards you, shifting to his human form right in front of you.

You heard his bones crack and watched as his fur disappeared and turned into perfect human skin.

“What’s going on!?” He demands.

“I was drowning…there was a nymph. Jungkook saved me but the sun…” You hadn’t realized that you had started to cry until just now when you tried to speak.

“We have to get him back inside immediately.” Jin states the obvious but you nod your head in agreement. 

“As fast as your legs can take you. Please.” Your eyes meet Jins and he nods. Jungkook begins to shake beneath you, groaning in pain.

Seokjin shifts back to his wolf form, you move just enough to let him lay next to Jungkook and roll him onto Jin's back. The sun is starting to lower more but it’s still too much.  Jungkooks fingers grip tightly into Jin's fur just before the wolf takes off at a dead sprint. 

Your human legs and weak muscles from your near drowning don’t propel you quickly enough but you force them to move you back to the castle, shoving open the door and listening for any sign of where they have taken Jungkook.

Groans of pain take you to the right hallway where you find your husband laid out on the meeting room table, the other vampires scrambling to help him.

“Have one of the servants fetch a human donor right now!” Namjoon shouts at Yoongi.

“There’s no time for that! He’ll be dead before they return with one.” Yoongi tries to cover one of Jungkook's arms with a medicated towel, but he only screams.

“He can have mine. I’m right here.” You announce, ripping open the collar of your shirt to expose your throat as you walk towards the table.

“My lady…you don’t know what you’re doing.” Yoongi grabs your wrist to stop you.

“I’m the reason he’s dying, so let me do this for him now.” You gently touch his hand, you need him to let you go. Yoongi nods once before releasing you.

You climb onto the table where Jungkook is lying, his body shaking. You sit near his head, lifting it to settle in your lap. 

“Jungkook…I need you to bite me, okay? You need my blood to get better.” You press a kiss to his forehead and hold your wrist to his mouth but he doesn’t bite you. “Jungkook…please.” You beg.

He moves his face away from your wrist each time you try to bring it near his mouth. His body still shakes, sweat soaking his white shirt as he lies there in pain.

“I’m asking you to. Jungkook, it’s okay. I promise it’s okay.” You hold your wrist to his mouth once more, hearing him groan before you finally feel the coolness of his lips press to your skin. “That’s it…go ahead.” He presses a very weak kiss to your skin in preparation for the bite that follows it.

You flinch at the sudden feeling of fangs piercing your skin. It’s foreign and strange. Jungkook moans and it makes your head swim. His hands come up to circle your wrist and hold it tighter to his mouth while he takes a long, fluid draw of your blood.

Each time he drinks, your veins fill with liquid fire. It’s too hot. You’re burning up. Tingles shooting from your nerves too many at a time. 

You let your free hand come to Jungkook's hair, brushing it from his face and watching him. He is lust personified. Dark eyes practically flooded with red. His chest rises and falls rapidly while his tongue licks at your skin and catches any drop of your blood that tries to escape him. Deep rumbles of pleasure radiate from his chest.

You’ve never wanted someone so badly. You want him to touch you and feel you and taste. You want him here and there and everywhere. On top of you, beneath you, inside you. You want, want, want.

No, you need him.

“Jungkook…” Your voice sounds weak in your ears but you know he hears you.

“You’re fucking exquisite.” His voice is suddenly in your ear making you reach out to touch his body that’s made its way into your space.

“Are you…okay?” You focus on his face, seeing that the burns and chars have disappeared from his beautiful skin.

“Tell me how you feel…” His tongue is exploring your jaw and throat and you feel too much. 

“I feel like I’m going to explode if I don’t have you.” Your arms slide beneath his arms to hold him around his shoulders.

“How do you want me, darling? I’ll give you anything that you want.” His words slither into your ear and spread until they bloom between your legs.

You grab at the buttons of his shirt, ripping them open to expose a torso sculpted by the gods. All the dips and curves of muscle are begging to be licked by your tongue and stroked by your fingers. 

Jungkook kisses his way from your ear to your jaw until he reaches your lips. Devouring your mouth with his own. He grabs your thighs and lifts you onto his hips, wrapping them around his waist.

“I want you so much.” You can barely get the words out between kisses and strokes of his tongue.

“Take what you want.. Every bit of me is yours” Jungkook drags his fangs across your jaw in the most enticing way.

“Your highness…” A voice that doesn’t belong to Jungkook says. 

“What?!” Jungkook's firm body leaves you as he spins around, snarling at the person interrupting your moment of passion.

“You should clear your head and think about whether you really want to continue this…here.” You recognize the voice as Yoongi now that the fog in your mind has a moment to start lifting.

Jungkook whirls back around to look down at you, your shirt ripped open, blood covering your arm where he had drank from you. You are beautiful beyond words.

You watch as the heaving of his chest begins to slow and the deep brown of his eyes becomes more prominent than the red that was there just a moment ago. His hair is tousled and his mouth was stained from your blood. How was it possible to look like an angel and a demon all at once?

“I’m…I'm sorry.” He bends forward and cups your face in his hands. “Tell me that you’re okay?” 

You try to catch your breath before you answer him, afraid that your voice will shake. The fog in your head lifts more and you suddenly don’t know what has come over you. You were ready to fuck the vampire king on the middle of the meeting room table in front of his most trusted friends. 

You scramble away from Jungkook, pulling at your shirt to cover yourself from all of the eyes in the room.

“I can’t. I need…I should go.” You bite your bottom lip to try and keep the tears from falling.

“______, please don’t go. We should talk about what just took place. My bite…” Jungkook follows you off the table, grabbing your wrist.

“I cannot even look at you right now, your highness. Please let me go.” You don’t look at him, eyes instead meeting Jins as he stands in the doorway. His face shows concern and sympathy that you can barely stand to see.

“Don’t walk away.” Jungkook quietly begs.

You don’t answer him, you simply continue walking out of the meeting room, looking down at the floor the entire time to avoid any more looks from the others. You felt awkward and uncomfortable…but mostly humiliated.

As you reach the bottom of the stairs, the oversized front doors of the castle swing open, a royal guard rushing inside.

“Your majesties.” The guard bows as Jungkook joins you in the foyer. You make sure to keep distance between the two of you.

“What’s going on?” Jungkook asks the guard.

“He’s here, your highness.” The guard seems almost spooked.

“Who is here?” You question. Jungkook visibly stiffens as if he is on high alert. 

“I can smell them.” Namjoon says, his deep voice making the hair on your arms stand at attention. 

Suddenly Seokjin is changing into his wolf form, growling quietly as he comes to stand between you and the open doors in front of you. Your heart begins to beat too quickly as the pieces fall into place and you remember who it is that is arriving earlier than everyone thought he would be.

“I’m not going to tell you to hide away. I won’t do that ever again. But Taehyung is dangerous, a loose cannon at best. I won’t hesitate if he threatens you in any way.” Jungkook is in front of you now, desperation in his eyes as he waits for you to answer him.

“I’m ready. I promise.” You whisper the words and Jungkook nods, thankful that he doesn’t touch you like you thought that he would.

“Ready for what?” A deep, buttery voice that you don’t recognize says from the doorway. You had not even seen them approach. “How sweet of you all to greet us.”

You presume this man is Taehyung. His long, dark hair is half pulled back and his smile is intimidating and full of menace. The long cloak he wears is made of thick fur and drags the ground as he walks back and forth, his golden colored eyes landing on you. 

“Have you come to discuss land or have you come to stare at my queen? Only one of those choices allows you to leave here alive, Taehyung.” Jungkook stands in front of you slightly and Jin lowers his head to snarl at Taehyung.

“So hostile and I’ve only been here for a moment.” Taehyung begins to walk in a circle around the three of you. “I suppose I can’t blame you for marrying a human when she looks the way this one does.” Those golden eyes flash and follow any move you make. 

You can feel his eyes rake over you, your soaked pajamas doing nothing to hide you from him. There’s also blood slowly drying to your arm and to Jungkook’s mouth. You can’t even imagine what all of this must look like to these strangers.

“You’re pushing your luck already, Taehyung.” Jungkooks jaw is wound as tight as it can be.

“Fine then. You want to talk? Let’s talk.” Taehyung practically growls, scowling at Seokjin before he moves to spit at him. “Traitor.”

You’ve had enough.

You reach down to your thigh and yank your knife from its sheath, rushing between Taehyung and Seokjin who was starting to cower and whimper. You can see Taehyung's guards moving behind him but they’re too late, your blade is at their king's throat.

“You have a lot of nerve coming into his home and spitting at him. I should slice you from ear to ear for even thinking such a thing would be allowed.” You seethe through your teeth, watching as the menacing smile returns to Taehyung's face. He raises a hand in the air, signaling his guards to stop.

“_____…” Jungkooks says from behind you, his teeth clenched.

“My king?” One of the guards comes up closer behind Taehyung. He has one golden eye and one pitch black eye. He’s smaller in stature than the others, black hair that falls into his face and full lips pulled into a scowl.

“It’s quite alright, Jimin.” Taehyung puts both hands up when you tighten the blade against his skin. He looks at Jungkook over your shoulder. “Managed yourself a rather feisty one, didn’t you Jungkook?”

Jungkook snarls loudly, his chest pressing up against your back and an arm wrapping around your waist protectively. 

“That’s enough! If you want to talk, I suggest you follow the king's advisor to the meeting room or these negotiations will be over before they’ve even begun.” You look at Namjoon, who is standing with his hand on his sword and a very large werewolf guard in front of him. He nods to you, straightening his stance.

“This way.” Namjoon says and you remove your blade from Taehyung's throat, letting Jungkook move you a few steps back and out of reach. Taehyung laughs quietly.

“It will be in your best interest that these negotiations go well, your highness.” Taehyung let’s Jimin stand in front of him now. You glare at the werewolf king, making sure he can see your distaste for anything that comes out of his mouth.

“We shall see, your highness.”

[gimmethatagustd]

Are there any fics that aren’t yours you would recommend?

it's really hard to pick my favorites just cuz i have SO many wonderful friends on here who write a lot and i obsess over their writing lol. you can view all my fic recs here and my favorites here. but i'll give you a couple per member.

DISCLAIMER: most of these fics involve smut so PLEASE do not read those unless you're over 18

JIN

truth or dare / @sugarwithtea v emotional

rec. (ft. jk) / @yoonjinkooked HOT HOT HOT

YOONGI

stood up / @parkdatjimin hands down my absolute FAVORITE fic

monster for rent / @yoonjinkooked made me a monster fucker

the velvet devil / @junghelioseok sexy grumpy vampy

i'll float away / @ppersonna please read the warnings first / v emotional

HOBI

two in one (ft. jimin) / @here2bbtstrash best 3some i ever read

party on you / @here2bbtstrash WILL MAKE YOU DELULU

NAMJOON

below your mouth / @7deadlysinsfics so many fwb feelings

scent of eager suds / @rkivian LITERAL ART

JIMIN

batteries / @amethystwritesbts SPICY SPICY DELULU

freaky deaky / @jjkeverlast lati put her all into this

hooked (series) / @parkdatjimin SO FUCKIN CUTE

TAE

dominus / @haliiimede please read the warnings first / made me realize there's something wrong with me

maybe i do (series) / @chateautae the HOTTEST pairing ever

saudade (series) / @kimvvantae MADE ME CRY & should literally be made into a movie

ride with me / @nabiolive if tae's vlog made you feel some type of way pls read

JUNGKOOK

scattered stars / @taegularities SUCH a dope concept

hotter than hell (series) / @chateautae made me become a satan worshipper

carved (series) / @haliiimede please read the warnings first / another series that should be made into a movie

[raplinesmoon]

🎶fic inspiration game 🎶

Thank you to @augustbutwinter and @sunshinerainbowsbts for tagging me! This is fun because I always have a little soundtrack in my head when I write a particular fic, even if I don’t always share it!

Send me a title of a fic of mine (or more) and I’ll tell you a song or music that inspired it!

Tagging (you can still send an ask even if you’re not tagged):

@kithtaehyung @sugakookitty @aquagustd @yoon2k @jjksblackgf @kookskingdom @rkivian @caelesjjk @haliiimede

[here4kpopfics]

hiiiiii <3 for the ask game: 🌻🎬📚🎨

jesssssssss

🌻 How often do you read your own fics?

outside of rereading to edit or remember what the hell I'm writing? Not often. I reread the love bug stuff sometimes because they're my babies. but I feel like once I post it, depending on how long it took me to write it, I never want to look at it again.

🎬 If a movie or show were based on your fic, which fic would you choose and who would you fancast?

...Feeling in Chaos. LTDO is just porn with some messy plot sprinkled in and love bug is just sporadic moments. but if I could find the time to fully dive into their story, you could probably turn it into an adorable hella cheesy straight to streaming movie.

📚 Is there a fanfic or fanfic writer you recommend?

aside from you? 💜

We'll list 10 randoms of my faves just off the top of my head. @gimmethatagustd @haliiimede @chryblossomjjk @here2bbtstrash @parkdatjimin @sunshinerainbowsbts @shina913 @jjkeverlast @jeonjcngkook @mercurygguk and @kithtaehyung

that's 11 but whatever. I have a list of like 60 I'm sure. I should update my rec lists

🎨 If someone were to make fanart of your work, what fic or scene would you hope to see?

literally any. no but really. i'm a sucker for fanart. i will cry and give you my heart if literally anything i write inspires any sort of creativity.

Ask Game