Euphoria

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[cheeky-kookie]

Bite Me | Part 2 | P.J.M.

Jimin/Reader | Angst, Fluff, Smut | Vampire!Jimin

Word Count: 14.5K

Summary: Growing up, you always learned to look over your shoulder at night, hoping to never run into the catlike gleam of a vampires eyes. Yet, one night on your way home you find yourself staring into the very things you feared most. Dangerously beautiful and undeniably confident, Park Jimin was everything you knew you needed to stay away from, but he had other plans.

Warnings: Language | Pain/Blood kink | Biting | Fingering | Penetration | Rough Sex | Blood in General (Duh, Vampires) | Mentions of Killing| Possessive Jimin | Jimin still using Sweetheart an ungodly amount of times | 

A/N: I did not mean for the second part to take this long to come out! I meant to have it out around Halloween, but I’ve went back to college and that has sucked all my time away from me. I’m just so happy I’m finally able to get this out to you guys!

Please tell me your thoughts! I always welcome feedback!

Read Part One: Here

“Another update on the missing persons case. The young lady had been reported missing earlier this month by friends and family. The authorities had examined her apartment to find all of her belongings had gone missing as well. It is unknown whether she has been kidnapped, attacked by creature of the night, or just left to start a new life. We will be updating you with more information as it is handed to-“

The television went silent as you used the remote to shut it off. You relaxed the fist you hand formed around it after hearing a slight crack of plastic enter the otherwise silent room. You peered down at the device in your hand to find that it was still intact before tossing it away from you to the armchair by the door. It bounced off the back and clattered onto the floor.

You closed your eyes in irritation at your inability to do a simple task such as that. As you did, you picked up the creaking of the floorboards outside your door. It was something so small that you would have normally wouldn’t have picked up on it, but things are beyond what you deemed normal.

“Didn’t I tell all of you that I want to be left alone?” You questioned, noticing the movement stop outside your door.

The rattling of the doorknob and the door creaking open indicated that the intruder didn’t care that you didn’t want company, “If you keep listening to your own missing person’s report, you’re going to drive yourself nuts.”

You opened your eyes and peered over to the new presence in the room. Jungkook sauntered into the room, bending over with ease to grab the fallen remote near one of the legs of the chair.  He then took comfort on the arm of the chair instead of sitting properly within it as he fiddled with the new object within his grasps.

“And who said that’s what I was doing?” You asked him, eyebrow quirking up in question. He cocked his head to the side allowing his brown hair to fall over his eyes slightly obscuring his vision.

“I can hear your tv from all the way down the hall,” He responded, a crooked smile crossed his face as he pointed lazily to his ear, “You know, vampire hearing and all.”

“Yeah, I forget about that sometimes.” You responded, eyes breaking away from his relaxed stature. Silence encaptivated the room as your interest in the carvings of your beds old wooden frame amplified.

The idea that every person in the manor had heightened abilities was almost frightening in itself. You were so used to human senses and capabilities that your current situation was hard to get used to. Especially, now that you are lumped into them.

“I used to do the same thing; you know? I felt like no one here truly understood why I wasted days listening to the radio just to hear my own name or the voice of a loved one. Was it horrible hearing my mother beg for my return? I wouldn’t wish it on anyone. But the true torture came later, when the begging quits, and the radios quit reporting. That was what truly destroyed me.” Jungkook shared, sounding almost detached from the situation. You figured he almost had to be just so he could function. He sighed, “Just don’t pay attention to it.”

You looked away slightly embarrassed of the way you acted towards him. You were just so angry with your current situation that it was flooding out on everyone, “I’m sorry that I’ve been a little unreasonable.”

“It’s fine,” He said, a chuckle leaving his mouth as he pushed himself off the arm of the chair, “If it makes you feel better, I almost ate you when you first arrived here. I think you have every reason to be a bit… on edge.”

Your eyes widened in shock as he walked towards your door and opened it, “You tried eating me?”

“That reminds me,” He said peering over his shoulder at you still placed at the end of your bed, “The boss wants to see you. He’s not too happy about your protest.”

Your eyes widened at his words. Since you had been confined, you had come to realize that there are three vampires within this clan that no one wants to mess with. Each feared for their own reasons, whether it be age or the deeds they have accomplished for the rest of the clan. By all means, should be feared.

You hadn’t met any of them yet and you considered yourself lucky up until this point. Apparently, you were the first newborn vampire to be added to the clan since Jungkook himself. That meant it had been decades since anyone had been changed, and you weren’t part of the plan.

You knocked on the study door waiting for a response allowing you to enter the room. A faint ‘come in’ traveled through the thick wooden doors, giving you the permission, you felt like you needed to hear.

Once inside, you weren’t surprised to see that more than just the eldest was within. Seokjin sat at the desk, not paying much attention to your entrance as he fumbled through some paperwork. Another lounged on the couch, head leaned against his arms as he watched the Newton’s Cradle clack back and forth. You believed that one was Hoseok, another one of the big three. In the corner there was another who was lazily pulling out books to examine them before sliding them back into the library’s shelves. He had to be the third, Yoongi.

You were so distracted by the three intimidating forces within the room, you almost failed to notice a fourth presence within the room. Maybe if you were human, you might have just done so. Yet your eyes focused on the face that you hadn’t seen much of since all of this had become your new normal.

He was leaned against the wall adorned in all black, much like the first time you had ran into him on the dark streets of your city. He seemed uncharacteristically unfocused like something was on his mind; his eyes staring at the floor below him. You tear your eyes away before he could notice your glaze, though he seemed not to notice.

“You requested me?” You asked hoping not to upset the man before you.

He sighed, letting the sheets of paper he was analyzing rest on the wood of the desk. He looked up from them and changed his focus onto yourself. The way he looked at you made you want to run, but you knew better than to do that, “What do you think you are doing?”

You cocked your head to the side, “What do you mean?”

“You know what I mean.” Seokjin sighed again, annoyed with how you were playing dumb with him, “Every time I graciously appointed someone to accompany you to feed, you refused to go with them. You must be starving judging by the dark circles under your eyes and your sunken cheeks. You must be itching to sink your teeth into something, huh?”

“No, I feel alright,” You respond, though you could tell that he didn’t believe a single word you said. He actually seemed to grow more irritated with you.

A laugh broke the growing tension in the room, though it seemed to stem more from disbelief than true entertainment. With the rooms attention now shifted onto himself he waved everyone off, “Sorry, I couldn’t help it. The amount of bullshit leaving your mouth is quite astounding.”

“Hoseok,” Seokjin berated, “Control yourself.”

“Yeah, Yeah,” Hoseok blew off the anger of the other, “Continue with your little meeting. I’m just here for the show.”

Seokjin sighed. The glare that he had been giving his comrade now refocused on you, “As he said, you are a terrible liar. Your words might be believable, but the physical signs are quite obvious. I may not have been the one who changed you, but you are in my clan now and therefore this protest has gone too far. Jimin will take you to feed. If you don’t, I will end you myself. There is nothing more useless than a starving, dying vampire.”

“I am fi-“

“Yes sir,” Jimin interjected before you could continue your protest. He was now next to you, shooting you a quick glance before looking back at his superior, “I’ll take care of it.”

“See to it,” Seokjin said, “You’re the reason I even have to deal with this mess.”

Jimin nodded. He grabbed your wrist and quickly dragged you out of the study before you said something that could land both of you dead.

The silence between the two of you was deafening.

It didn’t help that the silence of the night was amplifying how thick the air was between the two of you. This had been the first time the two of you had been alone since the night you awoke from the brink of death with a thirst that seemed to never quite be quenched. You had told him to leave you alone and that you needed time to process your new ‘life’, which was true to an extent. The other part of you wondered if he should have just let you die.

The streets were empty which didn’t come to much of a surprise. It was well past the time that normal people would be awake. Those who were still awake were now exiting the pubs to stumble home, much like you were doing the night you met the man next to you.

“You’re starving,” Jimin voiced, breaking the silence of the night.

You shrugged, not even looking in his direction, “I’ll be okay. You went weeks without feeding and you survived.”

“Barely,” He responded, clearing his voice slightly at the memory of how feral he had been, “You’ve gone much longer than I have. You’ll die if you don’t feed soon.”

“And what if I want to?” You ask, feeling tears brim the edge of your eyes, “I didn’t ask for this Jimin. I- I don’t want to hurt people to live. So, if that means I die then I guess that’s what is going to happen.”

Jimin sighed as he watched the tears freely fall down your cheeks as you cried in silence. He knew that there was a high possibility of you resenting him, and he knew you did. What you were going through, he did as well. The idea of hurting and killing humans once haunted him but it had been decades now since he had felt an ounce of guilt. After so long, he went numb to the act.

“Y/N,” He said, causing you for the first time to look at his face. He held emotion in his eyes that you couldn’t read, but you were sure he liked it that way, “If I go back without you having fed, we both die.”

You opened your mouth to say something, but nothing fell out. Instead, you closed it again and looked away from him. As much as you didn’t like the situation, he put you in, you didn’t want to take him down with you. But you refused to murder someone just to satisfy the burning in your throat.

“I can’t bring myself to do that to someone,” Your words come out as almost a whisper, though you knew he heard you clear as day, “The amount of fear I felt after I got attacked… I don’t think I could do that to someone else.”

A pang of guilt made itself known to Jimin as he furrowed his eyebrows at the small girl next to him. He didn’t feel that emotion much, if ever, but knowing he caused you immense fear at some point made him feel that once again. Granted, he never took the time to know any of his victims after an attack. They normally weren’t around to get to know.

He sighed, unbuttoning the button around his wrist, and rolling his sleeve up his arm. He then extended his wrist out to you, “Feed.”

Your eyes grew wide as you stared at his open skin, “What?”

“You need to feed. If you don’t want to harm anyone then take my blood,” He explained as he watched your eyes lock on to where he had offered. He could tell you still didn’t want to, but he could tell your hunger was getting harder to fight, “Don’t worry, I can just hunt after to replace what you take.”

When you still refused to sink your teeth into him, he sighed annoyed. He brought his wrist to his mouth and nicked his skin with one of his canines. They easily split his skin, much like they did with his prey. He watched as your eyes glazed over at the smell of blood, your thirst fighting your better judgement and winning.

It took only a mere few seconds, and your teeth were dug into his skin. A content hum escaped your lips as warm blood flooded into your mouth and coating the fire in your throat. Jimin sucked in air at the sensation, feeling how fast you were draining him of his own blood supply.

“Y/N, you need to slow down or you’re going to suck me dry,” He hummed, closing his eyes in attempt to keep his concentration and patience.

Just like that, your senses came back to you, and you unlatched your teeth from his wrist. Embarrassment was the only emotion you felt as you quickly tried wiping your mouth of the evidence that you indulged in the one thing you set out not to. Even worse than that, you fed from him.

You gathered whatever courage you could and took a look at him. He wasn’t looking at you as he was more preoccupied with buttoning back the button on his shirt that he undid to allow you access to his wrist. He didn’t look too different, though he did appear paler than before. Your stomach churned at the idea that you did that to him.

He looked up and met your eyes; the corner of his lips turning up slightly, “You look more like yourself now. Do you feel better?”

You hadn’t put much thought into how you were feeling besides the subsiding embarrassment form before. Now that it was in the forefront of your mind though, you did feel better than before. The weakness and tiredness you felt had dissipated. The burning of your throat seemed to dull, but it never seemed to disappear completely.

“Yeah, I do,” You mumble, “Are you okay? I didn’t mean to-“

“I’m fine. I’ve been worse,” He shrugged, pulling his sleeve down to cover the healing puncture wounds. His eyes hardened as he looked at you, all softness left aside for a different time, “This is between you and me though. Seokjin doesn’t need to know how you are feeding, just that you are.”

You nodded, “Okay, but why?”

“Let’s just say feeding off others isn’t the most, well, conventual form.” Jimin sighed, looking away. His eyes falling on a car that turned down the street. Without saying anything, he reached out and grabbed your hand, entangling your fingers together before guiding you down the street. Despite knowing he did this to make it seem less suspicious the two of you were out on the streets well past the normal waking hours, your unbeating heart seemed to skip. He then looked at you again, “Besides that, I think Seokjin needs to learn to mind his own damn business.”

“Don’t you need to respect him? He’s one of the big three.” You said, watching the car drive by and ignore the two of you walking completely.

“He is,” Jimin answered, “But status doesn’t earn you respect or the right to be a dick. There is only one vampire I hold on to high enough ground to respect like that, and it isn’t him.”

You didn’t respond though question after question played around in your head. It wasn’t your place to delve into his mind, at least, you felt like it wasn’t. You’ve barely spoken since he ‘saved’ your life, which you knew he didn’t hold against you despite part of you wanting him to. It would be easier to be angry with him if he was angry with you.

Yet, all those thoughts didn’t take your mind off of the fact that the car had passed, and he still led you down the path your hand in his still.

A few days had passed since your little adventure with Jimin. Right after the two of you had returned to the manor, he had left you to enter alone. You assumed he had disappeared to refill what you had taken from him. The idea that some poor drunk person wouldn’t see the next day made you shutter in disgust, though thankful you weren’t the one doing it to them.

But since then, Jimin had basically disappeared. You only seemed to see him in passing, eyes only meeting for a moment before making an exit out of the room you both found yourself in. You knew he had a day job of some sort, but as it was the weekend you doubted that was his escape. All in all, it seemed like he was adhering to your request of being left alone and it had you begin to wonder if it was what you truly wanted.

You had grown so reliant on his company before all of this happened it seemed almost boring now being on your own; a thing you used to be comforted by.

You sighed, bringing the coffee cup warming your hands up to your lips. It was odd to you that there was a full functioning kitchen within the manor since you assumed none of them used it. Your suspicions proved right as the appliances were like new. No wear and tear in sight. The fridge seemed to be the only appliance in use, and it only had an odd assortment of items within.

You hadn’t tried any human food since you had been turned, granted, you were trying to die up until a few days’ prior. The liquid that used to be your driving force in the day tasted lackluster. It was as if someone had taken the taste and dulled it down tenfold. You scrunched your nose in dissatisfaction.

“Not what you were expecting?” A new voice echoed into the otherwise silent room. Your head shot up, locking eyes with a pair of brown orbs.

His lips held a small smirk as he raised an eyebrow in your direction, barely visible under the mess of raven hair. He had leaned himself against the island, opposite of where you sat on the stool. You wondered how in the hell you didn’t notice or hear him enter the room.

“No, it isn’t,” You respond, but proceeded to take another drink of it anyways. The taste just as unfortunate as before. Yet, you could still taste the faint flavor against your tastebuds giving you enough reason to still try and drink it.

He chuckled and pushed off the counter turning his attention to the cupboards, opening them, and examining the almost empty shelves. It was very distinctly human of him, but you assumed human habits die hard. He cocked his head to the side, “I used to love this candy I used to buy from the corner store a few blocks down from my childhood home. Imagine the disappointment I had when I realized I could barely taste a thing after Yoongi saved me.”

“I’m feeling that disappointment now,” You chimed in, causing him to chuckle.

He shut the cabinets in disinterest and turned back around, leaning his weight backwards against the far counter instead, “Of course Yoongi was the first to tell me that I should get used to it. I remember he specifically said ‘Taehyung, life is a disappointment, and you just need to get over it’. Back then, I just thought he was a buzzkill, still kind of do, but he wasn’t wrong. Immortality comes with a lot of sacrifices.”

“You sure know how to sell this whole ‘never dying’ thing. Have you ever thought of going into marketing?” You asked, smirking as you once again brought your cup to your lips.

He opened his mouth in awe at how blatantly you insulted him, but he couldn’t help but let it fall into a smile impressed with you, “You know what, I’m glad I didn’t turn you into a snack.”

You shook your head, “Are you telling me two of you tried eating me?”

“Look,” Taehyung said, uncrossing his arms to point at himself, “I am a controlled hunger. Jungkook still has his issues. I saved your life by pulling him away.”

“So, what your saying is that you had full control over yourself and still wanted to sink your teeth into me? I feel as though that’s even worse than Jungkook.” You said, peering at him out of the corner of your eyes.

He audibly gasped, “You make me seem like a monster. You were practically dead.” He paused as a devilish smirk made its way to his face. He walked over and leaned himself over the island yet again, this time much closer than before,  “If it makes you feel better, you still look like a snack.”

Not prepared for the words that exited his mouth, you choked on your own spit.

The door to the fridge slammed shut too loudly causing you to jump in your seat and put distance between you and the laughing brunette across from you. Your eyes darted up to see Jimin standing by the fridge door.

His eyes were on Taehyung his eyes not looking away as he popped open the tab to the can he grabbed out of the refrigerator. The air seemed to become stiff as he continued to stare daggers at the other man who by all means didn’t look intimidated. You wondered what Taehyung could have done to be on the receiving end of it. He took a glance in your direction, look softening for a moment before he refocused on the other. He then took a swig of the can in his hand and began to walk out of the room, leaving the two of you alone yet again.  

Taehyung’s laughter died down a little, “It’s too easy to get under his skin. I’ll see you later, Y/N.”

You awkwardly waved bye as he strolled out of the room. Too much had happened for you to properly process it so instead, you just focused on your coffee.

The burning in your throat was beginning to become unbearable. The pain you had felt before he allowed you to feed off him was nothing compared to the new burning that had taken its place. You wondered if it was due to you finally giving in, knowing what it was like without all the pain.

You rubbed your neck, trying to rid yourself of the soreness but to no avail. It still felt like you swallowed a bunch of hot coals; ones that never seemed to cool down. You swallowed hesitantly, deciding if you truly wanted to do what you were about to.

You stood up, the creaking of your mattress breaking the silence. It wasn’t abnormal for people to be up late because sleep wasn’t necessary once you become a creature of the night. Instead of sleeping, most decide to do something better with the time they had gained. Scouting being a huge thing, as other vampires tried to make their own home a little too near to this one. Another was the feeding because the shadows of the night were a great cover.

You found yourself stopped outside a door. The wooden structure seemed to be more intimidating that it should have been, but it was your question stopping you from knocking on it rather than the door itself. You hesitantly raised your hand and knocked softly on the door. You wondered if he was even in since most would have registered you were outside the door by now.

The door creaked open, letting the low light of the hallway creak into the room. Jimin stood there, tee shirt and sweatpants. His silver hair jutting out in ever direction. He squinted his eyes at the newfound light hitting his eyes. It was the most human he had ever looked in front of you, and you felt a pang of guilt interrupting what you assumed to be some sleep. You didn’t think he usually tried to.

“What are you doing here, sweetheart?” Jimin asked, his voice more gruff than usual. If you weren’t in so much pain, you might have blushed from him using his old nickname for you.

You fiddled with your hands as you tried to figure out how to word your thoughts. Unbiting the edge of your lip you sighed, “I uh, I was trying to put it off but, uh, I need to feed. It’s becoming unbearable to withstand.”

He nodded slowly, taking in your features as he did. You did indeed look like you needed to feed, with your sunken in eyes and the ash color that made its way into the pigment of your skin. He didn’t need to hear a quickening heartbeat to know how nervous you were standing there in front of him and honestly, he found it sort of endearing.

“Let me throw on some clothes and then we can head out,” He responded, disappearing back into his room.

It only took a few moments before he reopened his bedroom door, dressed more casually than you’ve seen him before but not the pajama-esk  clothes he was in before. He seemed to have thrown on a dark hoodie and a pair of black pants. His hair far less unruly now that he had smoothed it down.

He cocked his head to the side, indicating that you follow, and walked down the hall. It didn’t take too much longer before the two of you were out of the manor walls and out on the streets of the city. Per usual, it was quiet between the two of you.

Part of you was still angry about the situation you had been put in, yet another part of you missed having him by your side. Before the whole almost dying thing, he had really grown into being good company and good stress relief. Now that there was this wedge between the two of you, you didn’t know how to approach talking to him.

Deciding to try and break the silence you cleared your throat, “Did I interrupt you?”

“Not really,” He responded, as he shoved his hands in his hoodie pockets, “It’s not like sleep really does anything for me. It’s just a way to pass the time when I have nothing else to do. Don’t worry about it.”

“Oh,” You responded, silence settling between the two of you yet again. You allowed it to stay silent as you racked your brain for something to say. The only thing that came to mind were endless questions that no one has answered quite yet. You were so new to this. You kicked a rock that laid in the way of your path on the sidewalk and watched it jump down the path slightly, “Can I ask you something?”

Jimin, who was walking slightly more ahead than you, turned his head slightly to peek at you, “I’m listening sweetheart. Spit it out.”

“Do you miss it? Being human?” You asked. The last time you tried to ask him about his human life he shut you down without a thought and left. You never pried after. When he didn’t answer you continued, “I’m sorry, I just wanted to know if this feeling will ever disappear.”

Again, it was silence. He turned down a pathway, leading farther away from possible prying eyes but slowed his pace, allowing you to match him. He coughed a little as if it was hard for him to say what he was about to, “After so long, you sort of forget the essence of being mortal. You forget how every moment counts because time is a limited resource. You forget to treasure the people around you because you won’t outlive them. Time becomes irrelevant as does guilt and grief.”

You had wondered for a while how he had become the monster you first met in the alleyway. The kind that liked to toy with his prey for the sheer enjoyment of the game. You could see that after so long, a human life could seem so obsolete.

“You sort of lose the human part of yourself,” He continued, finally taking a chance to look at you now walking next to him, “I hadn’t really missed being human, not for a long time. Recently though, I was reminded of some of that humanity I had lost.”

“So, do you miss it?” You pushed, though you had a feeling what his answer might have been.

“I miss the freedom that comes with being human.” He responded.

It wasn’t what you expected from him, though, he had changed a little since you had met him that fateful day. He seemed less, deranged.

You cocked your head to the side in curiosity, “Freedom?”

“Yeah,” he shrugged, “I guess, in a way, humans are free to feel what they want, and feel it with everything they have. They can do that because their time is limited. I’ve seen too many people grow old and die while I remained in my twenties. Love, grief, anger? None of that really means much when you have decades to get over it. It means more when you don’t have forever, but just a moment.”

“When you know your days are numbered, I guess it does give you the freedom to live the life you have to the fullest. I never really thought about that beforehand,” You respond, choosing not to point out how philosophical he had gotten with his answer. It was a more thought-out response than you even dreamed he could give you and you respected him for how honest it seemed, “I guess I took the mortality of my life for granted really.”

“Me too,” He responded, letting a heavy breath out. He stopped walking now that you both were covered by the trees of the trail the two of you had walked down. He then pushed the sleeve of his sweatshirt up, revealing his open skin, “I think it’s safe to feed now. I’m sure your throat is on fire. It’s been a while since the last time.”

“Jimin,” You said, your eyes meeting his. You could tell that the talk of humanity seemed to trigger some sort of emotion from him, though, what exactly he was feeling was still buried deep under all the barrios he created over the years, “I feel bad doing this to you, and if you say this isn’t conventual should I even really be doing it? I mean, we walked all the way from the manor for this.”

Jimin stared back for a moment, silence taking over what seemed to be a decent conversation beforehand, “It doesn’t bother me. If it keeps you alive, I’d be willing to do just about anything.”

You felt what little blood remained within you rush to your face. You hadn’t thought that would be his answer considering his uncanny ability to be unreadable. For the first time, you considered that maybe him changing you wasn’t because he thought it was what was best for you, but out of pure desperation to keep you alive.

You grabbed his arm, bringing his wrist to your mouth. You stared at his untouched skin wondering what it would be like to pierce it with your own fangs since you hadn’t actually had to do that yet. You had only fed once before, and he was the one to puncture his flesh.

You bit down, and once again the burning of your throat was quenched, or as quenched as it could be.

Jimin closed his eyes, feeling the blood once again be drained from his body. It was an uneasy feeling knowing what it was like to feel what all his victims feel. You had no control over yourself yet, not that it was a surprise. Normally, if a vampire fed from another, they’d be careful not to take too much of the reserve. He most likely would have to replenish after you were finished once again.

You pulled away reluctantly, surprising Jimin. Maybe he wouldn’t have to go tonight, but you still took a lot, and he would have to go soon. Blood dripped from your mouth as you attempted to wipe it away, only smearing it across your cheek.

A small smirk crept onto his face, though it wasn’t one of his signature ones. This one seemed softer. He pulled his sleeve down ignoring the blood on his arm. It would heal in minutes. He then took this sleeve of his hoodie and wiped the blood off your cheek. There was a reason he wore dark clothes when he hunted; to hide the blood.

You hated the way he made your stomach flutter.

“Thanks,” You muttered, embarrassed, “You didn’t have to…”

“Sort of did,” He responded, dropping his hands back into his sweater pockets, “It would seem a little suspicious if you were walking around with blood all over you.”

“Oh, well, you have a point I guess.” You agree, though you still believed you could have cleaned up the blood yourself through sheer determination.

He chuckled, “At least you can admit to that, sweetheart.”

You had noticed that Jimin had disappeared since you hadn’t run into him for a few days. You knew that Seokjin would randomly send people out to scout the area and you were beginning to think Jimin had been chosen for that specific task this time around.

Out of pure routine, you rounded the corner at the bottom of the staircase without even taking a glance. Thank god your reflexes had grown tenfold since your transformation because as soon as your eyes met the group of people in front of you, your movements halted.

“Excuse you,” The woman who you almost ran into said, eyeing you up and down. She scrunched her nose at you, “Oh, you’re Jimin’s little play toy.”

Your mouth fell open gob-smacked, “I’m his what? What did you say?”

“You heard me,” She responded, the other girl with her snickering beside her, “I mean, why else would he change you? Must have been a great blood bag for him to want to keep you around like that.”

“I-“

You didn’t even have a chance to speak as you felt a presence linger next to you. Out of curiosity, you peered to the figure next to you recognizing it as Namjoon, “You sound a bit bitter; don’t you think Youngmi?”

“Oh, Joon, I didn’t see you there,” She muttered, face turning a shade of pink, “If I had I-“

“You wouldn’t have been so vindictive?” He asked, cocking an eyebrow up at her, “Just because Jimin won’t give you the time of day doesn’t give you the right to terrorize the newbies.”

“You’re right, I’m sorry.” She mumbled, avoiding eye contact with you. You were unsure what actually happened just then, but you weren’t about to complain about it.

“Want to take a walk to the library with me?” Namjoon offered, turning his attention to you. You nodded slightly. He nodded and began to walk forward, you followed in tail.

You hadn’t realized this place even had a library within, though it was so big you weren’t surprised. You barely had any time to explore within the walls since you had been forced to stay there. Maybe you would have seen more if you hadn’t barricaded yourself in your designated bedroom for weeks after your change.

You followed him into an open archway and once through it you were greeted by walls and walls of books. It was the kind of library you had only seen in fairytales. As astonished as you were with the mass amounts of pages, you weren’t surprised. All of them were so old that this collection wouldn’t be out of the ordinary. You wondered how much history sat on those shelves.

“I still haven’t read through all these books,” Namjoon stated, placing the item he held in his hands back into the empty slot on the wall. You hadn’t noticed he was holding a book, but his trip in here made more sense now, “I also was surprised by the collection, though it has grown substantially since I’ve joined the brood.”

You nodded, allowing your fingers to trace along the binding of one of the hard covers. The action lifted some of the dust that had accumulated on it, allowing you to read the title. You had wondered what you would do with all your free time now that death was unlikely. This could be a good outlet.

“It is quite extensive,” You respond, still distracted by the texts. You then turned around and met his gaze, “Why’d you step in?”

“Youngmi is ignorant,” He shrugged, breaking the eye contact, “Besides, you don’t deserve her malice because she’s seen you leave to feed with Jimin.”

“Huh,” You said, letting the noise hang in the silence for a second as you pulled a book from the shelf and looked over the back synopsis. You took a glance at Namjoon who seemed to be just as enticed with another book, “So, Jimin’s popular with the ladies?”

You knew you sounded like you were prying, and you were. You had known so little about him as a person before being changed, besides the nights you two spent under the covers with his mouth attached to your neck. If you could get any information on him, you’d try.

Without tearing his eyes away from the binded pages in his hand he responded, “He was as a human too. I haven’t really seen him interested in anyone, well, until he met you.”

“I wouldn’t say he’s interested in me,” You mumbled.

Namjoon sighed, turning his complete attention to you, “If you saw how idiotic he was the night he changed you, you’d think differently. I’m able to talk him out of just about anything, but leaving you to die, he refused.”

You felt as though your heart was being squeezed by the information he had given you. In fact, Namjoon telling you solidified the information since he seemed to be the only person Jimin had an ounce of genuine respect towards.

Silence fell between the two of you as you debated whether to ask the man another question; to see if you would still stand to gain some more information on Jimin. You bit your lip, “So, you and Jimin are close then? Since he listens to you?”

He shrugged again, waving his hand back and forth as if he was unsure if that was the term he would use, “I guess you could say that. I didn’t know him in his human life, though I was the one to find him almost dead in an alleyway. He probably just feels as though he owes me for saving his life.”

“Oh.”

You didn’t know what else to say as some of the things Jimin has done and said made more sense knowing the new information. Of course, Namjoon would be the only person he respected because he was the one to save him from death’s greedy hands. You, unlike Namjoon, truly believed Jimin held him on high regard. It wasn’t just because he saved his life.

“I trust you can find your way out of here?” He asked you, waving a new book within his hand, “I found what I was looking for.”

“Oh yeah,” You nodded. He smiled and exited the library.

You drew your attention back down to the book within your hands, having to reread the description of it. Nodding to yourself, you pulled the book to your chest deciding that this was the piece of literature you were going to start with.

The longer you were within the manor walls, the more you began to understand the hagiarchy of the clan itself. It wasn’t like you had gone out of your way to learn about it, though you probably should have. No, Jungkook had become your fountain of knowledge. He’d just spew information when the two of you were around each other. You wondered if it was because he was just talkative, or if it was because he felt it his job to inform you of brood.

You had learned about Seokjin’s escape from his prior clan and creation of this one. Even Hoseok’s revenge story and Yoongi’s single-handed massacre of a rivaling brood which earned them their rightful spots next to the leader himself. Though those stories seemed more like folk tales than solid knowledge.

Jungkook seemed to stay away from the newer joined as he probably did know their true stories but decided they weren’t his to tell.

Once again though, you found yourself within his company and you weren’t necessarily upset by it. He seemed to become one of your better friends here, if your only one. You thought that the shared bond of being the newest to the brood had to do with how well the two of you got along.

“Jungkook, do you think you can tell when people were turned by the stuff they like?” You asked, breaking the silence within the living area.

Jungkook caught the ball he had been tossing up in the air and peered at you from the couch he had laid down on. He raised a pierced eyebrow at you, “Interesting theory. Why don’t we test it?”

You looked at him, seeing if he was just trying to mess with you. Yet, his expression held no form of mockery within it as he waited for a response from you.

“How do you supposed we do that?” You asked, a laugh escaped your mouth at the idea.

“Well, I mean,” He responded, kicking his legs over the edge of the couch, and sitting up. A smirk played on his face as he continued, “You don’t know when I was turned.”

“Good point,” You nodded. You turned your head to the side, looking at Jungkook’s attire. He wore all black, his leather jacket discarded on the arm of the couch he was on, “What’s your favorite genre of music?”

“Rock,” He responded, almost automatically. There was no thought behind it which meant he was bullshitting you, or that it had been his answer to that question for years. The look on his face made you believe that the latter was the correct choice.

“Fifties,” You mumble, not entirely sure of your answer. You hoped your gut was doing you right for once.

His mouth dropped in disbelief, “I’m surprised, I thought you would have said the eighties. You are correct though. I’m curious on how you guessed that.”

“The leather jacket was a giveaway,” You laughed, relieved that you didn’t embarrass yourself in front of him. A devious smile fell on your face, “Didn’t peg you for a bike gang kind of guy.”

He shrugged, a tinge of pink falling onto his cheeks, “I was a different guy back then, yanno, less dignified.”

“A couple decades could do that to a person I guess,” You chuckled, trying your best to rid him of whatever mortification he felt, “At least you seem to have taken the whole immortality thing fine. Some of the people in this clan have a shit personality.”

After a little bit, the conversation had died away from the human life he once had and back to him spirting out random information here and there as he tossed the ball to himself.

Your mind had wandered back to Jimin and how he had said that feeding off another vampire was unconventual. He wouldn’t tell you why even with how many times you had told him you were unsure if the two of you should be doing it. He just reassured you that it wasn’t bothersome and to keep it between the two of you.

You hummed to yourself as you debated asking Jungkook. You didn’t want to give anything away, mainly because Jimin had asked you not to but another part of you was dying for the information, “Hey Jungkook, I had a question, and I don’t really have anyone else to ask.”

“What is it?” He asked, his attention once again on you instead of the ball in his hands. You sighed.

“So, we have blood flowing through our veins, right? Obviously, not our own but blood all the same,” Jungkook nodded, urging you to continue your train of thought, “In theory, wouldn’t we be able to feed off each other?”

“Yeah, in theory, I mean at least for a little bit,” He responded, but he shook his head, “But that’s more saved for like, mated couples. The bite inflicted onto the other acts more like marking your territory. Similar to how our saliva is the trigger to make the blood in our bodies gain the ability to change another, our saliva also acts as like a sort of pheromone when we bite into another vampire. It warns the other sex to turn away.”

“Oh,” You responded, taking in the information he just unfolded to you.

Jungkook shrugged, tossing the ball yet again, “So in theory we could feed off one another for a little bit until we began to run out of blood to share, but the smells would become almost too confusing.”

“The more you know,” You say, pushing your weight off the couch and into the standing position, “I’m going to hit the bathroom, is that okay?”

“Sure, I was going to go out and grab a bite to eat anyways.” He smirked, flashing one of his canines at you. A small smile managed to make it’s way to the surface to reassure him that in fact, his joke was somewhat funny.

But soon, you were hurrying up the stairs of the manor, trying your best to keep a normalized pace instead of accidently switching into your newfound speed that came with your immortality. Instead of flanking a right into the bathroom near the top of the stairs, you continued down the long hallway until you found yourself in front of the thick wooden door you had become accustomed with.

No wonder you had been receiving dirty looks and talked down to by most of the women that entered the walls of the manor. Every time Jimin was around them, they smelled you.

You raised your fist and banged on the door repeatedly, impatience filling your entire being. Every second felt like an unwelcomed minute. When the door cracked open, you didn’t wait to be allowed in. You entered the room with no regard.

Jimin raised his hands in defense as you stormed in, allowing his door to swing back against the wall with a loud bang. The fury you excreted was beyond anything he had seen from you. Then again, you hadn’t once allowed yourself to get angry with him when you were human. You weren’t fragile compared to him anymore. It would be a lot harder to break you.

Your eyes met his, voice coming out low and dangerous, “Jimin, what the actual fuck is wrong with you?”

Knowing full well that this conversation was about to go sideways, Jimin shut his door. It was an attempt to keep this conversation as personal as it could get with all the extraordinary hearing everyone within the building possessed. Even the door could not be enough.

“Elaborate for me, will you?” He responded, raising an eyebrow at you.

“You weren’t going to tell me that I’ve been unknowingly marking my territory on you every time I bit you?” You seethe, your anger growing more with every passing second, “Isn’t that something I should have known?”

“I told you it wasn’t conventual,” Jimin responded, taking a step forward so he would be able to speak quieter, “Don’t get mad at me for keeping you alive. I had a job.”

“I will be angry because you kept VITAL information from me,” You raged, inches from his face making sure to keep your voice low, “Is there a reason why you didn’t think you should tell me?”

Jimin sighed, his breath hitting your face from the close distance. What little anger he had use to respond to you had dissipated, “You wouldn’t have done it if you had known.”

A laugh escaped your mouth, the disbelief present. He was right. You wouldn’t have agreed. You hadn’t been happy with him at that time, and you would have rather died than feed off anything or anyone. You were basically a walking corpse, to sum up what Seokjin had said to you. A useless one at that.

Over the past few months, you had learned to forgive him. He had gone feral trying to save you, or so you’ve been told. He almost murdered Taehyung and even attempted to fight the big three, just to save whatever was left of you. That wasn’t the kind of man he was. He wasn’t the kind to lose his control. Even on the verge of dying himself, he still was able to control himself and not bleed you like a pig. As selfish as it was, he had been desperate.

This though, this was rage inducing.

Instead of responding and continuing a fight that would never be resolved, you spun around and existed the room. You needed air, fresh air.

It was dark, well past two in the morning. You had been wandering alone for an hour at the most as you attempted to calm down and come to your senses.

Part of you, if not all of you, wanted this to be a dream. You wished that you would just wake up one day in your old bed and realized that you were just late to work. At this point, you would die to be able to be dragged out to the pub by Nari for some weekend fun instead of forced to stare at the inside of the manor walls.

You had realized that you’d probably get your ass handed to you when you decided to head back. From what you gathered; you weren’t trusted to be out in the open world by yourself quite yet. Here you were though, wondering the streets all by yourself without a problem. The metaphorical leash they had pulling on your neck being loosened just a little.

You hadn’t really put much thought as to where your feet were taking you, but slowly the neighborhood began to look more and more familiar. You paused, your eyes landing on a tall building. A pang of sadness hit you as your eyes traveled up the side of it and landed upon the window you once claimed as your own. The lights were on within it as two children ran back and forth in front of the glass.

You should have figured that your landlord wouldn’t have wasted time leasing out the apartment at your disappearance, but you had spent so many years at that spot, it hurt to see others living within the walls you had grown to love.

Not being able to take the sight anymore, you began walking away from it.

Your eyes locked onto a car turning down the almost empty side street you had been walking on. You pulled up the hood of your jacket, hoping that the cover would be enough to hide your face from the incoming car. You didn’t need someone recognizing you and calling the authorities. How would you explain your disappearance with the stigma against immortals?

You turn your body slightly, enough for you to pretend to view whatever items were within the store window next to you. Though turned away, the headlights from the car still managed to meet your eyes. Much like the night you first met Jimin, your eyes reflected the light right back into the night just like a cats. The true give away to your now predator status.

You closed your eyes quickly. You didn’t want to view yourself in that form. You could overlook the enhanced beauty you gained for it was only you still staring back at yourself. Yet, having the eyes of a predator stare back at you made your stomach churn.

Shaking your head, you continued to briskly walk down the road. It seemed to only take minutes until you again found yourself stopping to take in another familiar place.

The bar was loud which only seemed fitting for the time of night it was. The people within had to been drinking for hours, alcohol inhibiting almost all of their rational thinking. A few people stood outside, cigarettes in hand as they attempted to have conversations through the slurring of their words and lacking balance.

Taking a few steps forwards, you peered through the window of the pub. A small smile fell on your face as it brought back fond memories of you and your friends spending your Saturday nights within the walls, forgetting your stresses for a few hours. If only you had that luxury now.

Then your eyes zeroed in on a familiar face, Nari. She must have been drinking for hours because she sported her wasted face. She laughed, her balance failing her as she struggled to stay on her feet. If only you could join her without it being a risk, but everything was a risk now and days.

She gained her balance and looked up from the ground. Her eyes found yours through the window and your mouth fell open. You watched as she began to maneuver through the room towards the door of the pub. Desperate, you hurried down the alleyway and out of sight. Hopefully she would be too drunk to think to follow.

“Y/N?” Her voice traveled down the alley, the desperateness within it very obvious, “Y/N?”

You closed your eyes as you attempted to will the tears threatening to fall away. She was by far your closest friend. You could tell whatever emotion she was holding with just the sound of her voice and the begging she was doing, in hopes that it was you she saw, was almost unbearable to hear.

When her calling dissipated, you reopened your eyes. You were surrounded by nothing more than the dingy brick and dumpsters from the businesses nearby. You were beginning to understand what Jungkook had meant when he said to just ignore your former life. It was too hard to see everyone move on with themselves or even worse, hold on.

It was an easy decision for you to head back; everything reminding you of you prior life becoming too exhausting to handle any longer. Just as you were about to walk, the smell of blood peaked your senses.

Panic. Panic was the only thing you felt as the burning in your throat you had been surprising started to amplify, and your mouth began to water. You slowly began to lose your grip on your self-control, your body moving without you even thinking. You grasped to the side of the brick wall, digging your nails into it to attempt to keep you in place.

“Ah, shit man,” A male voice echoed down the alley, making you turn your head. Your eyes landed on a figure who was stumbling down towards you. Your eyes then fell on the cut right above his eyebrow. Tears stung your eyes, and your body began to shake as you fought your natural predatory instinct to attack; to satisfy the burning, “Are you okay?”

You weren’t expecting him to call to you or even notice you for that matter.

You knew if you didn’t respond to him, he would just come closer to check on you. You also knew that if you opened your mouth to say something you wouldn’t be able to control yourself. Even worse, you didn’t trust yourself to try and move just in case your body decided to betray you.

It was so fast, you couldn’t even process what happened yourself. One second you were making the tips of your fingers bleed from the force you dug them into the stone behind you, the next it was replaced with the feeling of blood gushing into your mouth putting out the hot coals in your throat. Your hand had covered the man’s mouth, taking away the only chance he had to scream for help, and it stayed there until he quit struggling under your touch.

Then the realization had hit you; what you had been doing. Your eyes widened as you detached yourself from the man. Guilt entered your whole body as you peered at the man. He only wanted to see if you were okay and in return you bit down on him like some animal.

His eyes were closed, and you were unsure if he would even make it if he wasn’t already dead. You shook your head before running off, tears in your eyes.

The trip back to the manor was shorter than you thought it would be, granted you hadn’t used your enhanced speed much until this moment. You hadn’t needed to.

All you wanted to do was vomit. What you did was grotesque and so unlike you it made you sick to your stomach. On top of that, the mans blood was still all over you and constantly entangled with your senses. It’s all you could smell even though you wished you couldn’t.

You ignored the concerned looks from others within the manor as you stormed into the building. You beelined to the bathroom, closing the door behind you.

Now within the safety of the bathroom, you began crying. You had never felt that kind of shame and guilt before and it was hitting you harder than you thought. That was something you never wanted to do to someone but your control over the situation was minimum.

With shaky hands, you pulled your blood-filled clothes off one by one and tossed them onto the white tile of below, staining them in the process. The person being reflected back at you within the bathroom mirror was unrecognizable. Red was smeared across her face and arms. Hair soaked with the same substance. The uncontrollable streams of tears that couldn’t wash away the shame. You didn’t want to admit that person was you.

Instead, you crawled into the searing hot shower and began scrubbing away at your skin. The water cascading down your body was dyed red as your nights events were washed away. Even when there were no traces left on your body you still scrubbed and rubbed, not feeling an ounce cleaner.

You let out a yell in frustration before allowing the sobs you had been hiding to bubble to the surface. The images of the poor guy underneath you with nothing but fear plastered in his eyes continued to flash into your mind and fueled your never-ending tears. You crumbled to the floor of the bathtub, letting the shower head still rain onto you as you pulled your knees to you for comfort.

“Y/N?” A voice questioned from the other side of the closed door. You could barely hear over your cries and the water beating down onto your head. It wasn’t like you could function a response anyways. The next thing you knew was the shower curtain was being pulled open. You didn’t look up from your ball, but you heard the voice of the person you wished it would be, “Sweetheart…”

Without a second through Jimin climbed into the tub with you with no regard for the clothes he was wearing, allowing them to become soaked with the falling water. He took a seat behind you before letting his legs to extend around you. He then pulled you close to him. You didn’t hesitate to except his embrace and the comfort he was willing to provide to you.

You cried into his chest as he attempted to sooth you, though he knew there would be no real way to besides to just be there for you. It didn’t take him much but two seconds to know what had happened to you, and he knew that it was your worst fear since becoming the type of monster he was.  

Watching the state in which you fell into made his chest hurt. The immense amount of guilt he felt, since he was the one to have changed you, was well deserved. He let out a shaky breath as he rubbed your back, “I’m so sorry sweetheart. This feeling will get better. You just have to work through it.”

You once again stood outside the study door, nerves wrecking your whole body. You knew you were beyond screwed since the word of what happened had gotten back to Seokjin. It honestly didn’t take too long since the majority of the brood didn’t necessarily find themselves fond of you.

A ring adorned hand landed on your shoulder. You looked over to the limb and followed it up to meet Jimin’s face, which held a solemn smile upon it. Although this was by all means his way of trying to take some of your discomfort away from you, he didn’t look too confident about the situation either.

He removed his hand and brought it upward, taking the initiative to knock on the door. It echoed within the silent hall the two of you stood in making the banging more menacing than it already was. Instead of waiting for a response, Jimin pushed the doors open.

Seokjin’s head shot up from what he was focusing on. His face hardened once they fell on the two of you, but mainly Jimin. You slowly followed Jimin in towards what felt more or less like a death sentence. You glanced behind you when you noticed the doors closing behind you, your eyes falling on the dangerously silent Yoongi. He raised an eyebrow as if he beckoned you to challenge his actions.

“Care to try and explain what the hell happened?” Seokjin asked, standing from his desk, and moving around It until he leaned his weight against the front of it. He posed the question as if it was for either of you to answer but his eyes never left Jimin.

“It’s my fault that she went out without supervision,” Jimin explained, which made your stomach knot in ways that you didn’t like, “We got into a disagreement, and I didn’t follow her.”

“Yes, you are correct this is your fault. Even more now that I know she wasn’t even feeding on actual humans! You had her feeding off you!” Seokjin reprimanded, voice slowly growing less and less composed as the conversation continued on, “It explains your constant disappearances and late arrivals. You needed to feed twice as much to make up for everything she had been taking from you. You are an absolute idiot, you know that? I gave you one job, and you couldn’t even follow that.”

“You only told me to get her to feed,” Jimin responded, his tone holding a slight edge to it as if he was trying to keep his response composed, “She’s alive and not on the brink of death. I feel like that’s mission accomplished.”

Hoseok, who had been silent up until this point, laughed, “We have been so lenient with you and your mistake over there, but due to your incompetence she almost got herself caught murdering a man. As fun as sinking your teeth into a good meal is, we can’t have her leaving a trail of dead men to our doorstep now can we?”

“Good thing she didn’t murder anyone, huh?” Jimin responded, his eyes darting to you for a split second before returning to the brunette man, “He seemed to have been found and picked up, supposed to make a healthy recovery, or so the media is saying.”

You hated that Jimin felt the need to comfort you while he himself was being verbally attacked by them. Even so, you wanted to thank him for figuring it out for you. Knowing the man was alive would ease some of the dreadful feelings that still suffocated you.

Hoseok began walking around the two of you, his eyes dancing from you, to Jimin, and back again, “There isn’t a guarantee for next time, wouldn’t you agree Seokjin?”

“Why is it that you always drag me into your threats?” Seokjin responded, his lack of interest in whatever Hoseok was doing extremely prevalent. He wasn’t even looking at the performance that he was holding in front of him.

“We could just end her now,” Hoseok shrugged, head turning to the side as he met your eyes. A closed smile visible across his lips, making you feel uncomfortable. The enjoyment he gained from this beyond predominant.

Jimin growled, flashing his fangs at the other man, “Don’t you fucking dare.”

Jimin slowly moved over, placing himself in front of you and in direct line of sight of Hoseok. The look on the other’s face slowly growing more and more amused as the situation in front of him unfolded. A small chuckle escaped his mouth at the show.

“Interesting,” The voice surprised you, forgetting Yoongi had even been within the room. He stared between you and Jimin though it held a different intensity than when Hoseok did it. You quickly turned your head to the side where you had heard him speak. He was so quiet, even your hearing didn’t warn you of how close he was, “I’ve known you many years Park, and you have never shown this much emotion before, besides when she was practically a lifeless corpse. What is so special about her that you’re willing to risk your own life to protect hers?”

Jimin whipped his head around to glare at Yoongi, moving himself yet again so he was placing himself not only in front one but both of them, “I value her life more than I value my own, there isn’t much more to explain.”

Yoongi nodded, a smirk falling onto his face as he found a weak point within Jimin, “If she’s so valuable, maybe I should get some alone time with her. Maybe sink my teeth in to ward off the less-worthy.”

Your eyes widened at the idea of Yoongi’s fangs digging into your skin. The thought of him marking you as his territory felt like a gross use of his power. Even more so, having another vampire pierce your skin that wasn’t Jimin felt wrong to you.

A loud hiss escaped Jimin’s mouth, baring his fangs. He slowly backed you up towards the wall as he continued to use himself to shield you from the two circling vampires. His body was shaking under your touch. You assumed it was taking everything he could to stay where he was standing.

Yoongi chuckled to himself at the reaction he provoked. He wouldn’t ever truly do that to anyone since he just didn’t enjoy company but placing the image in Jimin’s head was entertaining to him to say the least.

“You hear that Y/N?” You could only hear Hoseok call out to you since you had no choice but to stare at the back of Jimin’s shirt, “You’ve caught Yoongles attention. That’s a rare sight. You should take him up on that offer. At least that ends up with you still breathing.”

“Don’t call me that.” Yoongi sighed, annoyance ridden within his voice.

“Ah come on, you know you like it.” The other responded.

“Are you two done playing with them?” Seokjin suddenly interjected, voice sturdy and loud. The voice of a leader, “I do believe Jimin did follow my directions, though it was not what I had meant.”

“I just like seeing them squirm,” Hoseok responded, the amused smile still sitting unsettlingly on his face, “You never let me have fun.”

“Can’t imagine why I don’t,” Seokjin sighed sarcastically shaking his head. His attention then landed on the two of you, though you could barely see him as Jimin’s body was still in your way, “I’m not going to kill you. At least, not today. If you pull any more stupid stunts, I will step in and end it. Clear?”

“Yes sir,” Jimin growled under his breath.

“I wasn’t speaking to you,” He responded, his eyes landing on you instead, “Is that clear?”

With everything that had happened within the few minutes you had been inside the room; you had forgotten that you haven’t even spoken a word to anyone. You shakingly took in a deep breath, “I understand. Sorry for the inconvenience I may have caused you. I’ll do better not to lose control like that again.”

“Good,” He responded, his eyes still on you, “I would rather grow to like you than end your existence.”

You didn’t know what to say to him.

He had said so many things within the study that had your mind racing. Even more so, the way he placed himself in immediate danger just so you were protected made your chest pang in a foreign way. Never had you met someone so willing to risk it all for you. If Hoseok and Yoongi truly decided to attack, you were frightened to know what Jimin would have done.

He leaned against your bedroom doorframe, head resting against the wood. He looked exhausted, like a human that had forgone sleep. You wondered how much it took out of him to really stand his place in front of you instead of giving into his instincts. You knew how hard it was to fight them. You didn’t win yours.

“You don’t have to stand there if you don’t want to,” You mumbled, bending over to grab some discarded clothes that had been left on your floor. The smell of dried blood clung to them still.

He chuckled softly, “Is that you inviting me in?”

You opened your mouth slightly only to close it. That wasn’t what you were insinuating, but it wasn’t like you wanted to be alone after the few days you have had. Maybe that’s why he stood there. To keep you company if you needed it.

“If that’s how you took it, then sure.” You responded once you gathered your thoughts, “It’s not like you need my invitation since we live under the same roof. Besides, I wanted to thank you.”

He pushed off the frame of the door and entered your room. He found comfort sitting within the empty armchair, “Sweetheart, you don’t have to do that.”

“You didn’t have to find out about the status of that guy for me,” You interjected, meeting his gaze from where you stood in your room. You felt a little vulnerable expressing that to him since you have had your guard up with him for a while now, “I’m not sure if it was really in the media or if you went out of the way to find out for me. I don’t need to know, but like, thank you. I’m happy to know I didn’t kill him.”

“It was no problem,” He reassured, a small smile on his face as he watched you shift your weight awkwardly between your two feet.

You shuffled a little, attempting to figure out how to word what you needed to ask, “Jimin, do you really value my life more than your own?”

“I have no need to lie about that,” He responded and cocked his head to the side in thought, “I was the one who made the decision to change you without knowing if you would actually want that. The least I could do is allow you to saver as much life as you can even if it’s in spite of my own.”

“Stop,” You interrupted. Your voice had come out with much more force than before. You had noticed through your conversations how much he truly looked down on himself for making you into what he was. The only emotion you could easily read in his eyes was guilt, “Your life matters too, okay? Just because you regret changing me doesn’t mean you shouldn’t respect yourself.”

“I don’t regret changing you,” He snapped, voice holding tension behind it. He stood and moved in front of you. If you were human, it would have felt like you blinked with the speed he used. He was inches from your face, “Watching you struggle with what you are now and what you have to do to survive, that’s what eats at me.”

“I’m sorry that I haven’t adjusted to having take blood from people to survive quite yet Jimin,” You responded sarcastically, throwing your hands up in the air in exacerbation.

“You are absolutely insufferable,” He growled, before having you slammed up against the wall behind you within seconds. Your head collided with the drywall though it didn’t cause you any pain whatsoever. He had you trapped between his arms as he stared you down, “How many more times do I have to try to explain how I feel until you fucking understand. I care about you. If I didn’t, then I wouldn’t have let you feed off me. Do you think I would just allow anyone’s sent on me?”

You couldn’t find the words to speak as you watched the man inches from you breath heavily at his confession. You knew nothing about being a vampire. Everything you do know is from what bits and pieces you were able to gather from the others. It wasn’t like it came with a handbook.

When Jungkook told you about what happens when vampires feed off one another, you only really thought about how it affected you and made your life harder than it needed to be. You didn’t really think about what it meant on his end; what it meant to him.

“Jimin,” You said, voice unwavering. He hadn’t looked away from you, but his look slightly softened at the use of his name, “Bite me.”

His eyes questioned you, “What?”

“Did I stutter?” You asked him, challenging him. He licked his lips as his eyes broke from yours and traveled down your neck. They lingered there as if he was debating, “If you are going to do it, just fucking do it.”

“You always were a feisty one.” He commented; the signature smirk that had been missing plastered on his lips.

Then he bit down on your neck causing a gasp to emit from your mouth. A small smile fell on your lips at the familiar feeling of him taking blood from you. He detached himself from you, blood covering his lips. You licked your own before pulling him downward into a kiss.

He didn’t take even a second to respond, his lips moving with yours desperate to stay attached to you. Neither of you had admitted to how much you missed touching the other and all the pent-up energy was finally making it’s way to the surface.

“Everyone is going to hear,” You manage to say between kisses, knowing damn well that it wasn’t an exaggeration.

He tore his lips away, a lopsided smile landing on his face as he did so, “Let them.”

He then flung you onto your bed. You bounced a few times from the force you were being handled with. You had no idea how much he had been holding back on you when you were human, but now, he had no restrictions. Your body wasn’t the equivalent to paper mâché anymore.

He crawled on top of you, his hands finding the bottom of your shirt. He quickly ripped it off, deciding that taking it off over your head would take far too long. It had been too long since he had laid his eyes on you, and he very much wanted to see you squirm below him once again.

He reattached his lips to your skin, kissing his way down your body. He stopped momentarily, peering up to meet your eyes, “I’m tired of everyone thinking they can have you.”

He bit down onto the top of your breast, a gasp escaping your lips once again at the feeling. Even changed, the pain of him piercing your skin still made your panties wet. You missed how he made you feel. Your imagination was nothing compared to the real thing.

He bit again and again, marking you over and over again. As he did, his hand wandered down to unbutton your pants. Every time one of his metal rings touched your heated skin, it sent welcomed shivers down your spine. Once he had gotten the button to your pants undone, his hand slide underneath the thin fabric of your underwear. He rubbed you gently, his fingers teasing your entrance but not allowing you the pleasure of actually inserting them.

“Jimin please,” You whined, wanting more than what he was giving you.

He cracked a cocky smile, “Please what, sweetheart? How am I supposed to know what you want if you don’t tell me?”

You met his amused gaze. Momentarily, you debated how he could simultaneously irritate the living shit out of you and make you crumble under his touch. It was like he had some sort of spell on you, even from the beginning. It wasn’t like a sane person would have allowed a vampire to get so close, but in this moment, you had no regrets.

In your mental battle on whether to respond to him, he stopped whatever friction he had been giving you with his fingers, causing a whine to escape your mouth once again, “Please, I-I need your hands.”

A satisfied look fell onto his face at your response. He reinitiated his movements, this time adding his fingers. Your head flew backwards into mattress as your body was overtaken with bliss, moaning with pleasure. Each movement of his hand slowly building the fire within you. Up, down, harder, deeper. He had you chasing your release.

Just when you thought you were going to hit the peak, he pulled his hand out of your pants. A whine left your mouth having your orgasm so quickly taken away from you. Just as you were about to protest, you heard him chuckle. Your eyes landed on him pulling his shirt over his head.

“Sorry sweetheart, but if you aren’t cumming quite yet,” He began to unbutton his pants and kick them off, exposing himself to you. Understanding his statement, you quickly began to undo your own. He walked over and grabbed your pants pulling them off in one swift motion, your underwear went with them.

He crawled between you, the bed dipping where he placed his weight. You met his eyes as he hovered himself above you. The tip of his hardened shaft barely grazed your entrance. He sucked in a deep breath through clenched teeth at the slight contact, admittedly it being one of the hottest things you had ever heard.

“Quit teasing me Jimin,” You voice, a small smirk playing on your lips as you did, “Unless you’re getting stage fright.”

A breathy chuckle erupted above you, “You and I both know I don’t have an issue with that.”

With his words, he plunged slowly into your heat allowing you to adjust to his size. You bit your lip as you suppressed a moan that had threatened to make it’s way to the surface. He began to move, slowly rolling his hips into you.

“Oh god Jimin,” You moaned, closing your eyes from the new friction. The fire he had ignited prior returning with a fierce revenge.

“That’s right sweetheart. Moan my name for me,” He commanded, his pace becoming faster, more hungry, “Let everyone know who’s making you feel good.”

The new rhythm he found edged you closer, his length plummeting into you with far more force. The room was filled with nothing but the sound of skin on skin, heavy breathing, and his name falling out of your mouth like a mantra.

Jimin was having a hard time himself watching you lose composure underneath him. The way you muttered his name was simply intoxicating; a drug he had been itching to have once again. He wondered how he had lasted so long having you so near and not being able to touch you.

“I-I’m going to cum,” You moaned, words breathy.

Jimin’s eyes darkened at the words you spoke, increasing his speed to aid to your impending release. Suddenly, your hips bucked forwards as your pussy convulsed around his length. The noises you made under him made him weak. Unlike all the other times, he didn’t feel the need to sink his teeth into you. This wasn’t because he wanted fed. This was because he wanted you.

He pace stuttered a little as you continued to pulse around him. With a few more thrusts, he found himself spilling into you. He groaned, pulling himself out of you. His seed slowly seeped out of you as he looked down at your tired figure. All his bite marks had already practically healed, but his sent was everywhere, “You are absolutely beautiful.”

He adjusted himself to lay next to you, placing a kiss upon your head as he did so. You looked over at him, moving to wrap your arms around his form. He gladly excepted you into his arms, using his free hand to move some of the hair you had stuck to your forehead out of the way.

A smirk fell on your face as you focused on the open skin of his arm. Without much thought, you used your sharp canines to bite down on him.

He hissed at the sharp feeling, “What the fuck?”

“I figured I needed to refresh it. Don’t want the others to get the wrong idea and think they have a chance with you.”

A chuckle erupted from Jimin’s chest, “Fair enough.”

You rounded the corner towards the living space, mug of coffee warming your hands. You found yourself a seat within one of the few couches within the spacious room. A few glares from some of the women who had been visiting the manor were shot your way with just the mere knowledge that Jimin smelled of you.

A satisfied smile crossed your features at the thought of them being so visibly jealous. Instead, if reacting to them leaving, you brought the glass of the cup to your lips and sipped your drink. The taste still lackluster, but it was just habitual now.

“You wreak of Jimin,” A familiar voice sounded as a figure hopped the back of the couch and landed next to you. You peered out the side of your eyes finding a mess of raven hair staring back at you, “Thank god he finally grew some balls.”

“You always seem to have a way with words Taehyung,” You commented, a small laugh leaving your mouth as you did so. He chuckled in response.

“No, for real. That man refused to let your corpse get touched. I’m surprised he waited so long to mark you.” He said, a smirk finding purchase on his lips. His eyes grew a shade darker as a mischievous look fell upon his features, “It sounded like the two of you had a blast while he was at it.”

Your mouth fell open in shock. You had almost forgotten that nearly the whole manor would have heard the two of you and Taehyung seemed to make sure you knew he wasn’t going to let you forget it.

“Oh well I-“

“We did,” A dangerously low voice interrupted, making you clench your legs together at his tone, “I’m glad you heard.”

Jimin walked around the arm of the couch, his eyes glaring daggers into the other man. The look on his face almost begging Taehyung to try something just so he could react.

Taehyung’s smirk didn’t falter as it soon spread into a boxy smile, “I’m only just talking Minnie. Just because she’s marked doesn’t mean I can’t hold a conversation with her. She wrecks too much for me to do anything even if I wanted to.”

Taehyung scrunched his nose at the other man. Jimin just sighed and walked over, taking the empty spot next to you. His hand finding purchase on your thigh as if to place a barrier. His gaze landed on Taehyung, “You irritate me.”

“I just like fucking with you,” Taehyung responded, his feelings not seeming to be hurt whatsoever by Jimin’s comment, “I’m happy you finally learned to care for someone other than yourself. It’s a big achievement. I’m glad I’m around to see it.”

“Tae…” Jimin warned, gaze hardening once again.

“Yeah yeah,” Taehyung waved off before pushing himself off the couch, “Don’t get your panties in a twist.”

Once he left, it allowed it to finally just be you and Jimin.

Jimin had been gone all morning and judging by his attire, he had been at work. White button up and loosened tie. He looked too good for someone who looked like he should be sitting at a desk; it had you wonder how he hadn’t been found out by his coworkers.

“Sorry,” Jimin apologized, his eyes meeting yours, “I just really want to punch him still for calling you a snack before.”

You laughed, pushing him playfully before shaking your head, “Jimin!”

Jimin laughed as well, “What? It’s true!”

Both of your laughter soon ceased, allowing a comfortable silence to take over the room. Jimin seemed to be thinking something over. His emotions still seemed to be somewhat unreadable, as you weren’t able to see why the wheels in his head were turning.

“What is it?” You asked making his eyes snap up in your direction as you pulled him out of his thoughts.

“I’m not good at this kind of thing,” He sighed, runninhand through his already disheveled hair. You sucked in a breath thinking that this was about to head down a path you didn’t want it to. Whenever someone looked this distressed about to speak to you they generally had broken up with you or told you a loved one had passed away. He took a deep breath, “You’re mine right?”

You raised an eyebrow shocked since this had not been where you thought it was going to go, “Are you an idiot?”

“Yeah,” Jimin smirked, answering your outburst, “That doesn’t answer my question sweetheart.”

“I think that it’s painfully clear to not just me, but everyone, that I am.” You responded.

Jimin nodded as he draped his arm around your shoulder, pulling you towards him. You laid your head on his shoulder finding comfort in his familiar smell. He placed a small kiss upon your forehead, “Thank god.”

Tagged: @eduardalusa |  @summer-withsun​ | @heavenlydoja | @bluekyuprincess | @sweeneyblue1 | @jiminable | @jahsthings |

If you wanted tagged and I didn’t see you I’m so sorry!  Thank you all for the support!

[cheeky-kookie]

What I really want to do is start a discord where all of us could hang out, watch shows together, and play video games together lol it would be so fun

[cheeky-kookie]

Hello my lovelies,

I have been MIA for what seems like forever. I'm aware. But I just wanted to give you an update on life and future WIPs

First things first, I have WIPs!

This means I'm hoping to post in the future here and hopefully my writing holds up to what it used to be, or even better, has improved.

Secondly, the reason I've been gone for so long was because I ended up having to work two jobs and juggle college at the same time. But im currently attempting to pick up hobbies that I've shoved into a small corner back up again. This includes reading and writing. Im really hoping to do it again!

Until then, please look into my past works!

Thanks for reading, and hope to see you soon 💜

- Kate

[highvern]

Between the Titles

Pairing: Min Yoongi x fem!reader

Genre: fluff, smut (mature/18+)

warnings: egregious caffeine consumption, yoongi smokes cigarettes, reader is about the same height as yoongi (its me hello im almost the same height as him), gay taehyung, volunteer jungkook, silver fox yoongi (he just has some gray hair bc hot) smut warnings: making out, grinding, fingering, oral (f. receiving), semi-public sexual acts, bathroom sex, protected sex, praise kink

Length: ~9.5k

Note: no thoughts, just big brain yoongi in a sweater smoking cigarettes and drinking coffee. btw almost all the books in this are real but i haven't read them so if you have lmk if they're worth the read lmao. thank u to my dearest @gyuswhore and @idyllic-ghost for beta-ing this

Summary: Five days a week in the library means you're very familiar with the senior research librarian. It also means he has no qualms about making his own book recommendations either.

m.list + support my work

This blog is intended for 18+ only! Minors/blank blogs will be blocked.

The sweet aroma of old books and strong coffee infiltrates your nose as the heavy doors into the library swing open, offering reprieve from the storm raging on outside. It’s far too early for anyone to be here beyond staff and a few other morning birds. You glide right to the circulation desk as if fatigue doesn’t pulse through your veins, barely quelled by the second cup of coffee you sip from.

As always, the same familiar head of dark hair with sparse silver streaks waits at the circulation desk. He’s the only person working this early despite being the senior research librarian but you never hear any complaints louder than muttered annoyance under his breath when he thinks no one is around to hear. Bent over his laptop, Yoongi doesn’t even bother to look up as he slides a heavy stack of books to the edge of the counter. 

Eleven total, ten heavy volumes on ancient fertility cults across the globe, and one book you know he’s mixed in for his own amusement. 

It’s become something of a game between you two. At first you thought he was mixing your materials with someone else’s, but every time you brought the additional copy back to his desk, Yoongi insisted he had no idea what you were talking about and questioned your reading choices. Each time the titles got more ridiculous: Castration: The Advantages and the Disadvantages, How to Enjoy Your Weeds, Amish Vampires in Space, the list goes on and on. But after he slipped Why Fish Don’t Exist into your stack a few weeks ago, you decided to start responding. 

You left the stack at his desk like usual, ears perked for his reaction to Fishes I Have Known. An amused snort rang out just as you opened the doors to leave for the afternoon. The sound was so unlike the stoic man you’d become accustomed to over months working on your thesis; not that you heard him talk much to begin with.

Since then you’ve made a point to match every book he leaves for you. Yesterday, Yoongi chose I Could Pee on This: and Other Poems by Cats. At the end of the day, you spent thirty minutes searching shelf after shelf for an appropriate response, every book failing to meet your expectations. It wasn’t fair he knew the expansive collection like the back of his hand but nevertheless you found something up to par.

Yoongi rolled his eyes when you passed your books over the counter, a copy of Staying Dry: A Practical Guide to Bladder Control, like a shining star on top. A brief pink of his tongue flashed across his lips, a feeble attempt to muffle an amused smile. It was the most obvious reaction since the first time you responded.

Smiling like the cat who ate the canary, you left on clouds last night.

But this morning you have notes to write.

Snagging the collection, you make your way deeper into the building. Your unassigned-assigned desk tucked away on the fifth floor, far enough away from any noise so you can fully immerse in work without the threat of distraction. An uninterrupted view of the courtyard below is an added bonus.

The wooden table top is covered in a neat collection of pens and sticky notes in minutes; your laptop and the foot tall collection of references you devour over the next eight hours taking up the other half.

A few titles you request over and over sit on top, too valuable to be checked out for long term use so you settle for keeping them in constant rotation since no one else bothers to read the dusty yellowing tombs. For now, you focus on the new pieces you hope hold the information you need.

Earth rites: fertility practices in pre-industrial Britain, Archaeology and Fertility Cults in the Ancient Mediterranean, Metamorphosis of Baubo: myths of woman's sexual energy— 

I’m in Love with Mothman…

Well there it is.

You thumb across the glossy cartoon cover, failing to bite back a smile. Yoongi has a penchant for tossing in the most outlandish romance books he can find. Maybe because he knows you spend just as much if not more time than he does between the stacks. The suggestion box at the desk was full of cards stained with your penmanship asking for longer hours; several of which you’ve seen Yoongi rip in half as he pointedly met your gaze.

Tossing it aside, you pull forward one of the more musty books and start reading.

When you finally manage to resurface from laborious tales on several cults of Aphrodite, the rain is long gone. Even the darkest corners of the old building seem to glow gold in the evening sunset filtering through the glass doors. They're the only thing standing between you and freedom in the form curling up on your couch with a glass of wine and a new episode of your favorite reality dating show. But first, Yoongi needs his books back. 

His desk chair is abandoned and the return cart is gone as well which means he could be anywhere in the building. Disappointment leaches into your spine at the fact you won’t be able to witness his reaction to the twelfth book in your pile; the one you spent an extra fifteen minutes looking for in the corner of the third floor. 

A thick piece of library paper lists the materials you’ll need for the next day lays atop the neon green cover of Pest Management Solutions: How to Manage Your Moth Problem. They decorate the corner of the desk until Yoongi returns to find them. Hopefully he appreciates your humor.

Yoongi isn’t at his desk the next morning when you come in either. Instead, a doe eyed man with a lip piercing occupies the chair, clearly playing some game on his laptop. 

Approaching the counter, you begin to ask, “Where’s Yoon–”

“Staff meeting,” he interjects like he’s already answered the question a million times despite the library opening only five minutes ago. The white of his teeth threaten to blind you. “But I can help you!”

His name tag isn’t the same engraved golden metal Yoongi’s is, it’s a plastic sleeve with a paper insert with barely legible handwriting you decipher as  “Jungkook” and below “Volunteer.” You’ve seen him before from a distance. Usually trudging through the shelves with the book return cart in tow, occasionally taking a quick read inside before putting them in their rightful place. 

“I need to pick up some books. I gave Yoongi the list yesterday.”

“Sure.” Jungkook jumps up, approaching the shelf lined with piles for other patrons. “What’s your last name?”

He combs through the list after you answer, finding your stack easily enough. 

“Alright so Yoongi left a note that the encyclopedias you wanted are on the usual desk you have upstairs. But other than that I’ve got: Historical Studies of Changing Fertility, Sacred Mushroom and The Cross, Archaeology and Fertility Cults in The Ancient Mediterranean…” Jungkook lists off the titles, checking to make sure they're all in order. “And, um, this one isn’t on the list.”

It must be Yoongi’s choice for the day.

“What is it?”

Jungkook looks like he’s trying to hide his own amusement as he slides it over for you to read.

If I Were a Bird, You'd be The First Person I'd Shit On.

“Huh,” you blush. “Wonder how that got in there.”

“He must have left it by mistake. I can put it ba–”

“No, I’ll take it.” You toss it on top of the other, less embarrassing books in your stack and gather it into your arms before Jungkook can get in another word. “Thanks for your help!”

Scurrying towards the hallway housing the elevators, you attempt to juggle the pile of books, your stuffed bag, and coffee without taking a spill. It’s one thing to have your silent battle with Yoongi, but having someone else witness it makes you feel downright silly. And for the first one witnessed by others to be such an absurd and downright passive aggressive selection sends embarrassment through your veins.

As promised, three encyclopedias sit neatly on your desk; the volumes so thick they protrude from the table top like a small mountain. No wonder he left them there instead of making you carry them up in individual trips. But Yoongi’s goodwill clearly ended there. A sticky note on top of the stack pens his discontent at your selection.

I had to spend 3 hours in the basement to find these. If you need them again, don’t.

Even though he hadn’t signed it, you know it’s from him. The tight script fits his personality; thin lines of annoyance bleeding through the ink, not just his words. A waft of musty old paper and dust breezes through your nose as you open the first copy. They must have been housed in a forgotten storage area. At least his bird book makes more sense now. 

You don’t dig into the heap until after the sun is halfway through the sky but when you do it only proves to unravel your wits. Reading on, the wrinkle in your eyebrows deepens further. Page after page of conflicting knowledge passes by, each sentence more confusing than the last; minutes negating months of research. The thick pages hardly provide a soft landing for your head as you allow it to thump forward in exasperation.

The scrap of chair legs alerts to a new presence watching your meltdown in real time.

“Something wrong?” Yoongi asks.

With a heavy sigh, you respond.“I want to die.”

“Get in line.”

Shifting in your seat, you peer in his direction. A different day but the same wardrobe: dark button up, glasses, same unapproachable facade. But what Yoongi is doing sitting next to you is new.

Yoongi makes himself comfortable, picking at his nails as he waits patiently for an explanation. 

“Everything in my thesis is either wrong or the world authority on fertility in Europe is full of it.”

“Bummer.”

“Your sincerity is overwhelming.” You snap.

Yoongi rolls his eyes. Boredom seeps across his face but he doesn’t move to leave, just sinks deeper into the chair. “You’ve read almost half the collection since you started coming here, why are some old dusty books such a big deal?”

“Because all of those books cite these books which means those books are wrong and all my work is in the toilet.”

“Those books are from the seventies, the information is probably out of date.”

Slamming the copy serving as a pillow shut, you take a second glance at the title: Encyclopedia of Women and World Religion, Volume 7.

“Yoongi,” you sing.

Yoongi’s gaze flashes to yours, a trickle of confusion flashing across his eyes.“What?”

You stack up the books and push them across the desk with some effort. Just to savor the satisfaction of besting Yoongi, you indulge a long sip of now cold coffee before speaking again. No one else is around to witness your victory but that won’t dampen the high.

“Looks like you’ll be back in the basement because you brought me the wrong editions.”

He opens his mouth to argue, snatching one of the books to investigate but you beat him to the punch.

“I asked for the twenty-fifth edition, not the seventh.” You smirk. “I think you're losing your touch.”

He watches you over the rim of the cover. A fleeting glance in your direction but it makes your heart squeeze with need.

“Well, I guess you’re right,” Yoongi sighs, standing. “Do you still need them for anything or can I go ahead and take them?”

With your approval, he heaves the heavy tombs on to his cart. The strain of his forearms, bare from rolled up sleeves, catches your attention. Veins raised under creamy skin, lean muscles leading down to hands you’ve noticed since the first day you started visiting the library.

If you keep staring, you’re likely to start drooling. So you dive back into one of the useful books littering your desk and pretend to read until he’s disappearing down the hall.

On your way out, leaving much earlier than a typical day due to Yoongi’s mistake, you drop the remaining books off at the circulation desk. Along with a copy of Avian Hunting Techniques. He’s absent again but it doesn't matter.

You continue out the doors and down the sidewalk only to spot him leaning against the brick exterior further down the street. Even from a distance you can make out the natural scowl he’s constantly sporting. Except this time his lips pout around a cigarette. 

Of course he smokes.

The quasi-mysterious librarian who flirts with you through book titles, smokes cigarettes and looks hot doing it. 

“You know those things will kill you, right?” 

“That’s what the box says but they aren’t holding up their end of the deal,” Yoongi responds, flicking the ash before looking at his watch. “Wow, out before six. I’ll alert the press.”

“Well, if someone gave me the right books then maybe I’d stay longer. But I’m not about to wait around while you get the ones I need.”

Yoongi takes another drag of his cigarette before responding, “Are you trying to say I forced you to take a break?”

The realization dawns on you. Yoongi is the senior research librarian. He’s never given you the wrong books, even when you request the rare copies needed to be loaned from a different part of the country. The few times you’ve offered understanding if he couldn’t get them were met with a challenge in his gaze and smug satisfaction when handing them over a week later.

“You brought me the wrong copies on purpose!”

“I have no idea what you’re talking about.” He’s lying. You know it. Yoongi definitely knows you know by the way he smirks. But he’s already crushing the filter under his shoe and moving back towards the library by the time your brain catches up to your mouth.  “Have a good night, Y/N.”

With a scoff of indignation, you stalk towards your car.

The next morning, you march straight through the class doors to where Yoongi sits, fueled by snowballed annoyance from the previous day. Waking up on the wrong side of the bed is an understatement. If there are any gods, Yoongi should pick one and pray.

Your free afternoon of yesterday was spent dealing with the chaos your apartment has become over the past few weeks. Unfolded laundry, stacks of random papers, out of place books, and errant dust bunnies all became new victims to energy usually reserved for a full day of research. Taehyung practically shit himself when he woke up before dinner and found you scrubbing the bathroom sink.

“What are you doing here?” he asked, hand to his chest like a flustered old woman.

Bleach curled in your nostrils. “I live here.” 

“Not between the hours of eight and seven.”

But after the mess was dealt with, aggravation set in. How dare Yoongi purposefully meddle in your work. Well meaning or not you were an adult and could decide when enough was enough. The purposeful mishap hadn’t set you back far, one afternoon but a drop in the bucket in comparison to the months you’ve already spent chasing new leads. But the principle of the matter is that it’s none of his business what you do and when you do it.

Yoongi slides a slimmer stack over when you stop in front of him.

“Encyclopedias are on your desk,” he announces through a sip of coffee. He continues to type away, feigning disinterest as you sort through your stack with measured annoyance.

“Are they the right copies this time?”

“Double checked them myself.”

You open your mouth to verbalize your doubts but Yoongi’s pick of the day catches your eye.

Surviving Your Stupid Stupid Decision to Go to Grad School.

Scoffing, you flip the book around and shoot daggers into his face with your eyes. “Do you think you’re funny?”

The corner of his mouth twitches then becomes a full blown smile. Leaning over the desk, he drops his voice, “I think I’m hilarious.”

Remembering you are, in fact, in a library, you manage to muffle a frustrated groan. You dump the supplementary reading back on the counter for Yoongi to deal with and head upstairs. 

Unlike the usual days where you put off finding a response to Yoongi’s extra copy until the waning hours of the afternoon, you drop your bags and head straight for the shelves. The fifth floor houses a collection of textbooks and other reference material. It’s why it's always deserted unless some poor fool stumbles on it by accident; the perfect place to work uninterrupted for hours.

You head down stairs, circling the fourth and then third floor like a shark in a feeding frenzy. A few covers spark interest but nothing captures what bubbles in your veins: annoyance, anger, confusion. A brief flutter of interest as to why Yoongi decided to mess with you but those feelings are more dangerous than the acidic ones.

Row after proves unfruitful in your quest for passive aggressive revenge. None have the same bite as his book, or seem to curb the homicidal thoughts raging in your head.

Until a little white book peeps back at you from the end of the aisle.

Yoongi jumps when you slam Bitter Is the New Black: Confessions of a Condescending, Egomaniacal, Self-Centered Smartass in front of him. A feat in and of itself to sneak up on him given the loan desk has a perfect view of the entire first floor but whatever he’d been clicking away at on the computer was distraction enough.

“What's this?”

“Thought you might like some new reading.” You flash your teeth.

His chin jerks towards the glossy cover. “I already gave this two stars on Goodreads.”

Of course he has.

Face prickling in embarrassment, you turn back the way you came without a word.

Hours later, when half the day has ticked by and the ache for more caffeine burns your eyes, Yoongi stops by your desk. He doesn’t speak, doesn’t try and gain the attention you pointedly withhold. He sets a paper coffee cup on the corner of the tabletop and leaves.

You snatch up the cup after he rounds the corner out of sight. The lack of sugar leaves much to be desired but free coffee is free coffee, especially to a PhD student with limited means. 

It isn’t much of an apology but guilt blooms down your spine anyway. He meant well. You aren’t known for giving yourself breaks; unable to quit while you’re ahead. A voluntary day off is less likely than winning the lottery. You’re a busy body and the constant work keeps you from dissolving into chaos.

You don’t see Yoongi again until every book at your desk is exhausted, begging for a break from your manhandling. Double and triple checking notes and citations are the poor excuse you implement to delay the inevitable. At some point you’ll have to go downstairs to face the music. 

He’s waiting like always, scanning the mountain of returns littering the counter from a long day. Each step closer withers something in your stomach. 

The copies in your hand shift onto the wooden surface, joining the stack for him to work through. Yoongi flashes a polite grimace when you catch his eye before immediately diving back into his work. Hopefully he understands why you chose Thank You for Smoking. And why you covered the second half of the title with a sticky note.

Jungkook’s smiling face greets you bright and early. His name tag has been upgraded from flimsy paper to a plastic one and a printed label with his name. 

Handing over your library card, he quickly scans it and grabs the books meant for today’s dissection. 

“Yoongi wanted me to tell you that if you want more coffee while you’re working, you can go to the staff lounge on the second floor.”

“Oh.”

Jungkook continues sifting through your requests, making sure each is correct.  “Between you and me, the coffee down the street is better. But don’t tell him I said that.”

“Why?”

“Because he’s a coffee snob and thinks his shit—sorry—stuff is the best.”

“Okay,” you say, grabbing your pile. “Thanks.”

You set up your station like always, sorting through each book and devising a mental to do list. The desk resembles a feast but instead of food it’s encyclopedias, printed articles, and dusty manuscripts Yoongi wrangled from who knows where. On the outer board of your work station rests the feature of the day: How to Beg for Cigarettes.

A few hours pass between the pages. Your previous research is confirmed by the significantly less dusty encyclopedias this time, corroborating the basis of your thesis. A new work you haven’t seen is cited in the back, piquing your interest for more evidence. 

Instead of bothering one of the staff, you use the library website and find it in their catalog. It’s somewhere on the second floor where Yoongi offers free coffee. Two birds, one stone; a new book and a new cup of coffee.

The layout resembles all the other floors. A collection of study tables in the center crowded by bookshelves on all sides. One person, an undergrad by the look of pure dread on their features, occupies a table but that's it. Glancing at the note with the call number, you start towards the stacks on the left.

You find the correct area, eyes scanning up and down the different shelves to no avail. Hundreds of books, different sizes in an array of colors, flash by but none are the one you need. You’re about to call it quits when you spot it on the top shelf, just out of reach.

Call it a moment of stupidity, a brief blight of recklessness, but the book sits only a few inches beyond your fingers. You look around to make sure no one is around to witness the brilliantly flawed idea crest in your brain. With the coast clear, you hoist yourself up the shelf.

A deadpan voice nearly makes you fall.

“Looking for something?” 

Yoongi stands a few feet away, head cocked to the side. Of course he’d find you in such a ridiculous position. Even through the blur of your peripheral vision, the harsh lines of his usual uniform clashes against the back drop of books. Dark jeans fitted over his thighs, dark button down rolled up his arms, and a pair of glasses that make him look hot. But you’re in no position to dwell when the risk of falling on your ass is so high.

“Nope, just getting in some exercise” you grunt, moving your foot to the shallow hold of the next shelf.

Yoongi moseys up behind you before continuing. “And climbing a decades old bookshelf is how you stretch your legs?”

“You smoke cigarettes, I climb old furniture. We all have our vices.”

Your foot slips from its perch, making you squeak before catching your balance. 

“Alright spider-monkey, that's enough.” His hands slide across your hip, fingers curved around the softest part of your waist as he helps you down. 

Distracted by the weight of him still on your hip, the heat of his chest a scorching across your back, you don’t even think to disparage him for the cheap Twilight reference. The few inches Yoongi has on you allows him to reach overhead to snag the copy you need with ease. But as you watch his hands close around the spine everything beyond fades to black; like the universe pinholes where you two stand.

“This one?” You feel the vibration of his words up and down your spine, warm breath tracing across the shell of your ear.

Body on autopilot, you turn to face Yoongi. His mouth moves, eyes scanning the book cover but every word deafens in a muddy haze. He doesn’t seem to realize his hand is still on your waist, or how he crowds you into the shelves; chest to chest, stomachs barely an inch apart.

“Huh?” you ask, tearing your eyes away from his mouth.

“I said, if you asked for this book earlier I could have gotten it for you.”

“Oh.”

“You okay?” he asks, stepping further into you. “You look a little flushed.”

The bastard smiles. A God’s honest smile like his thigh isn’t between your own, or he isn’t waiting for a reply while his fingers dig in beneath your ribs.

Just when you open your mouth to say something, Yoongi silences you with a firm squeeze of his hand. His head lowers until his breath ghosts along your chin. 

Then you’re kissing; lips sliding together easily like he anticipated it. The world shatters all around from just a few passes of his mouth across your own, the weight of his body flattening you against the bookshelf. 

The first hint of his tongue against the seam of your lips makes you gasp and Yoongi takes the opportunity to taste you. You melt under his attention. Head tipping back, shoulders bowing to take more, your senses flood with the remnants of coffee and something else; something so quintessential Yoongi your head spins. It lights a new flame in your veins, one burning with pure want.

A handful of his shirt pulls him closer. Yoongi follows easily but gets more than asked for when one of your hands tangles in the back of his hair, tugging until he’s tilting his chin the way you want. It’s a bad habit other dates have subtly complained about but a noise bubbles in his throat at the dig of your nails; responding with his own palm squeezing roughly across your ass until your hips meet his. 

The crash of the book near your feet is like a bucket of ice water.

“Oh my god,” you gasp. Jumping back proves futile as the shelf digs further into your spine. “I–”

Puffy lips and lowered eyes stare back at you, clear evidence that you haven’t hallucinated what just happened. Yoongi dips down to kiss you again but you slither out of his grip.

Forgetting the book on the tiled floor, you mumble an apology and flee back upstairs, beelining to the vacant restroom.

To your own mortification, your features mirror Yoongi’s; lips swollen, eyes glazed. Your sweater twisted around your torso clearly betraying your rendezvous in the stacks. Beads of sweat cling to your forehead and neck.

A few splashes of cold water help clear the fog in your brain but as it dissipates embarrassment sets in. Making out with a handsome man is one thing. Making out with the librarian assisting in the most important work of your life is an entirely different ordeal; one that can only spell trouble.

Pacing back and forth, the cool paper towel on the back of your neck helps calm your racing heart enough to leave the safety of the ladies room.

Try as you might to drown under piles of books, it’s useless. You pretend to read the same passages over and over but none of the words register. The kiss replays over and over and over again. You kissed Yoongi. Yoongi kissed you back. He tried to kiss you again when you pulled away.

The end of the day inevitably comes which means you have to face him whether you want to or not. But you won’t allow a single lapse of judgment to affect your work; a moment of weakness propelled by months of abstinence that just so happened to coincide with a surly librarian’s entrance into your life. You just needed to get it out of your system. If it hadn’t been Yoongi it would have been someone else. 

At least that’s what you tell yourself.

A glance at your watch informs you that today is the second day you’ll leave the library early. Rather than give into the stubborn instinct to stay, you decide putting as much distance between yourself and Yoongi is far better for your mental health. With squared shoulders and a raised chin, you head downstairs. 

Yoongi’s waiting behind the counter. He isn’t typing on his computer or scanning books. He watches every step you take, arms crossed in front as he leans forward like he’s eager for a confrontation. 

“Yoongi,” you say.

“Y/N.”

You use every fiber of will to maintain eye contact as you pass your stack over the counter. “I’ll need these same ones tomorrow.”

“Okay.” He nods. “And the kiss?”

“What kiss?” you croak.

Yoongi’s eyes blaze like you’re a new puzzle to be solved, like he wants to take you apart and find exactly what makes you tick. You feel naked. “The one where you—”

“Must have been someone else. Sorry. Have a good night!” You rush for the door before he can say another word.

Another morning is another day in the library, but this time your roommate begs to tag along. 

“Look, I’m not getting anything done on my thesis so maybe you’ll rub off on me,” Taehyung says.

Rolling your eyes, you step through the door he holds open. “I think you’ve had plenty of people rub off on you.”

Gasping with fake indignation, he catches up easily. “Are you calling me a slut?” 

“Yes.”

“Good, I wanted to make sure we were on the same page. Is that him?”

Yoongi and Jungkook are talking behind the counter. Jungkook’s hands wave wildly as he recounts whatever information to his boss while Yoongi listens with fake interest. Or that's what someone else might think. The subtle signs he cares are hidden in the details; the miniscule lift of shoulders, a cock of his head, and when Jungkook pouts in a way too ridiculous for a man his size, Yoongi hides a smile in the shake of his head.

“Yes.”

“And I’m the slut?” Taehyung scowls as you pinch his shoulder. “What? He’s a nerd’s walking wet dream.” 

“And he can hear you, so shut up.”

“Morning!” Jungkook calls on his way past with a cart full of books. 

He grins like he knows exactly what happened on the second floor yesterday but that can’t be true. Yoongi doesn’t seem like the type to kiss and tell. Only the type to kiss and tease you relentlessly for it when no one else is around to hear.

Taehyung’s attention immediately locks on him. You love your roommate, always have and, unfortunately, always will; but he is a slut and Jungkook is definitely his type. However, he’s on your turf and knows better than to fuck where you have to eat for the next few months. 

“Y/N, Y/N’s friend,” Yoongi says when you approach his desk. 

“Taehyung.” 

“Right,” Yoongi drawls, blinking lazily before sliding your books over and turning around to sort something on the opposite counter.

Taehyung, ever the gentleman, grabs the pile for you and follows upstairs. 

“Well he seems like a cup of sunshine,” Taehyung whispers. 

“Just because he isn’t fawning over you doesn’t mean he’s an asshole.”

“I’m very fawn-able, ask anyone,” your roommate argues as you approach the fifth floor. “Wait, what's this… How to Defeat Your Own Clone and Other Tips for Surviving the Biotech Revolution. This is the type of shit he’s giving you? You’re easier than I am.”

“Give me that.” You snatch the paperback out of his grip. “Stop being nosy.”

Taehyung lets you work in peace after that, disappearing to gather more of his own materials. Even in undergrad he’d never been one to sit still for long. But he still managed to get a spot doing an engineering thesis despite the constant changes in his attention.

After several hours of mind numbing typing you need a break, and another cup of coffee on someone else’s dime sounds perfect.

“I’m getting coffee.”

“Bring me some,” Taehyung says without looking up from his screen.

The staff lounge is nothing fancy. A couple small tables with plastic chairs tucked around, a cork board covered with fliers, and a white board stuck to the fridge scrawled upon with black dry erase marker. The coffee pot sits full in the machine, still hot to the touch. 

You pour two cups. Taehyung’s gets loaded with creamer cups until it’s closer to white than black while yours is sweetened to sickening perfection. When you try to take a sip, the liquid immediately burns your tongue. Too hot coffee is better than cold coffee but an ice cube would help make it more palatable.

Moving back to the fridge, you go to open the freeze but stop when the white board catches your attention again.

Most notes are chores or friendly reminders about time cards but almost half the board is dedicated to a back and forth.

‘Unofficial Employee of the Month: Jungkook’ 

A note in Yoongi’s tight script: ‘You don’t work here.’

‘That’s why it's unofficial!’ in what must be Jungkook’s messy handwriting.

‘You’re my official employee of the month. - Namjoon’

At the bottom is a crude drawing of stick figures, two tall smiling ones holding hands under a rainbow labeled ‘JK’ and ‘Joon’ and a comically shorter one with evil eyebrows surrounded by storm clouds and ‘yoongi :(’ overhead.

“Snooping for secrets?”

“Jesus Christ,” you jump, turning to face Yoongi. “Has anyone ever told you it’s rude to sneak up on people?”

“You’re in the staff lounge, there’s gonna be staff here.” Yoongi crosses to the coffee pot on the counter and pours himself a cup. He doesn’t add cream or sugar or anything else to lessen the bitterness. Cliche. “So, was bringing your boyfriend here your subtle way of letting me down?”

“You think Taehyung is my boyfriend?” You whirl around in shock. Yoongi raises a brow, prompting you to continue. “Jungkook is more his type than I am.”

Yoongi releases a pleased hum, eyes shining. “So no boyfriend then?”

“Nope.”

You’re shaking but don’t look away from his hungry gaze. Yoongi takes a step closer, and another and one more until you're pinned to the countertop and his mouth is on yours. 

This time, you're more aware of everything. The smell of his cologne, the tickle of his bangs along your forehead, all the tiny details that were muffled before. Yoongi’s lips are firm against your own, a little chapped but it only makes you hotter with each pass.

His mouth is everywhere; your chin, your jaw, peppering down your throat until he pushes aside the hem of your shirt and sets to work on the jut of your collarbone like he’ll never get a chance again. 

“Yoongi,” you hum on the first rake of teeth. 

He takes it as an invitation to dig in harder, sucking the skin until your spine threatens to break and you say his name again. Desperate for some kind of anchor, you knot your fingers back in his hair and pull. 

A throaty noise responds and the need to hear more rears its head. Yoongi who always watches with measured fascination undone by some light petting. The power is addictive. 

Legs spread, he presses in flat. The heat of his cock, rigid beneath the fabric of his jeans, teases across the seam of your own. You're technically still in public but the consequences concern you less than the knowledge that you’ll go mad if you don’t feel him. His arms circle your back, pulling you firmer against him, right to the edge of the linoleum counter.

Wedging a hand between your bodies, you manage to get his zipper undone while your tongue traces along his jaw. Yoongi angles his hips to help, curling into your palm when you cup him over the fabric of his boxers. Every press has him swelling harder. 

His hands reach under your shirt. Skin on skin, the rough calluses of his fingers trace your ribs, thumbs following the cup of your bra in a tease. It’s a simple touch but your own hands falter when he brushes a nipple. You melt into each other.

“Hey, Yoongi, do you know where—HOLY SHIT!”

Jungkook stops at the door, eyes wide, mouth wider. 

“Get out!” Yoongi barks. He’s trying his best to keep your body covered from the younger man’s view but even if Jungkook isn’t getting a full frontal he isn’t dumb enough not to realize what’s going on.

Yoongi shudders a few breaths. Head hung low, he tucks himself back into his pants without moving away. You’re already slipping down from your perch when he looks back up.

“I’m just gonna…go,” you mumble, scurrying out the door.

Jungkook waits outside, eyes still bugging out of his head but at least has the decency to pretend he didn’t catch you in the act.

Tugging your shirt down, you avoid his gaze. How far would you have let Yoongi go if Jungkook hadn’t interrupted? 

“Coffee?” Taehyung asks as you approach the table.

You know what you look like without a mirror. The same as yesterday with glassy eyes and bruised lips, clothes wrinkled. Thankfully, Taehyung is more interested in his modeling software than where you’ve been. 

“They were out.” 

With a sigh like he is personally victimized by the lack of caffeine, Taehyung collapses on the table and plays dead. But he perks up at the sound of footsteps approaching behind you.

“You left this in the break room,” Yoongi says, dropping a cup of coffee by your side before disappearing. 

You turn to follow his retreating for until he’s hidden back between the shelves. The back of his hair is still messy despite his attempt to fix it, same with the wrinkles in his shirt from your hands.

“I thought they were out?” Taehyung eyes you suspiciously when you look back at him.

Cradling the still hot cup in your hands, you avoid his gaze. “Shut up.”

“So you do have to sleep with someone to get a cup of coffee.” 

“I’m not sleeping with him,” you spit in a harsh whisper.

“Why not?”

“Because…”

Because what exactly? There isn’t a good reason other than the fact Jungkook was the king of cockblocks. You would have let Yoongi do just about anything he wanted and he seemed to be in agreement. But you’d rather die than admit that out loud.

“You are so smart and so incredibly stupid.” Taehyung rolls his eyes, rising to pack his things. “I need to pee.”

You point him in the direction of the bathrooms and get back to work.

When Taehyung returns minutes later he starts shoving his things in his bag. “I’m leaving.”

“Why?”

“This is like the epicenter of hot smart men and I refuse to suffer any longer.”

“You got Jungkook’s number,” you deadpan.

Taehyung can’t hide his own shit eating grin. “Yoongi gave it to me.”

“If you’re leaving, so am I.”

“Why?” your roommate whines. 

“Because I got you a hot date and that means you owe me dinner.”

“Technically it was Yoongi but I’ll concede.” Taehyung heaves his bag up. “Come now my dearest, we can still get happy hour if we hurry.” 

You reach in your own bag and toss him your keys. “Go wait in the car. I’ve gotta go grab another book real quick.”

“Whatever,” Taehyung says, mumbling something like ‘nerds’ under his breath as he heads downstairs.

You find Yoongi while on your way to his desk, already toting around the cart piled high with returns from the day. Several of the covers are Taehyung’s picks and somehow the knowledge they’ve spoken almost knocks you off kilter. Taehyung is a good wingman and that’s what worries you most.

“Hi,” he says, kneeling to put a book on a low shelf.

It shouldn’t have the effect it does but something about the way Yoongi looks up at you, on his knees, head tipped back, has your mind running wild with the image of him in the same position with both of you wearing far less clothing. Maybe if you weren’t interrupted in the staff lounge you’d have seen it in real life.

“Hi. Mind if I add these to the pile?” 

“Go ahead.”

The Stocking was Hung sits on top. You don’t wait around to see his reaction.

The temperature had steadily been increasing over the past weeks but this morning is the worst of all. That inescapable warmth fully seeded overnight and promised the comforting days of sweaters and pants are long gone.

Heat makes you lazy and fitful. In the early hours, long before you actually need to be awake, you stare up at the ceiling of your room. Not even a frigid shower helped the stickiness of your skin or laying still in your bed in nothing but one of Taehyung’s shirts and ratty shorts. It followed you everywhere until you left for the same brick building you spend more time at than at home.

Without thought, you throw on the first seasonally appropriate outfit in your closet; a thin dress that covers enough for the public but promises to keep you cool.

Yoongi seems to be taking the change in weather as well as you are. His usual attire is absent, nothing but a white shirt clinging to his torso. The pale skin of his forearms briefly catches your attention but you focus anywhere else to stop from rounding the desk and finishing what started upstairs.

You steel yourself and approach the desk, determined to act normal.

Familiar dark eyes flash up to greet you but Yoongi’s mouth doesn’t form any words. He just stares at you. You can feel the weight of his gaze on your shoulders, your neck, and then he pointedly keeps them trained on your eyes. Like he's willing to pretend yesterday didn’t happen. 

He doesn’t speak when he passes over the same pile of books as yesterday but you can feel him burn a hole in your back. Even after you climb up the stairs and out of sight, the prickling sensation you’re being watched follows.

You don’t get anything done. The words on the page might as well be another language as your mind races.

Yoongi didn’t give you an extra book today.

An endless list of potential explanations race through your mind. Maybe you’d been too forward with your choice. Maybe he’s gotten it out of his system, a quick tryst in the employee lounge enough to satiate his curiosity. Maybe because it’s the second time you’ve brushed him off. Even if it wasn’t your fault Jungkook stumbled in before anything worthwhile could happen. 

But he isn’t speaking to you and he isn’t giving you the random book you’ve come to look forward to every morning. 

Channeling the restless energy of overthinking, you take a lap around the floor. You pause to flip through random books as you zigzag through the stacks. Anything to take your mind off the unshakable tension sticking in the air like syrup.

Your laptop is in sleep mode by the time you reluctantly come back. Everything is as you left except a book you’ve never seen before sits on top of the open one you’d been reading.

There’s a Boy in the Girls’ Bathroom. 

A sticky note sticks up from the inside of the cover. A bolt of excitement shoots down your spine. When you flip it open a familiar handwriting stares back: ‘on the seventh floor’.

You hadn’t been gone too long but the fear of making him wait has you rushing up the stairs. Each step brings you closer to where he waits until you’re opening the bathroom door.

“Yoongi?” 

A hand wraps around your upper arm, yanking you in. Another hand silences a surprised shout before you realize it’s Yoongi and not a murderer pinning you to the interior of the door you just came through.

“Jesus, you scared me.” 

“Sorry,” he breathes. “It’s just not a good look for me to be up here.”

“Oh, really?” You smile. “And why is that?”

“This is my job.”

“Didn’t seem to stop you before.”

“Who says it’s stopping me now?”

He thumbs the strap of your dress, hooking under the thin material and dragging it down your arm. The heat and weight of Yoongi against you, touching you so simply, makes you vibrate. Yoongi moves into your neck, panting with a grind against your thigh. “I swear I don’t usually do this.”

You want to argue that you have two accounts that he does do this often, at least with you. But for someone who says they don’t, Yoongi is surprisingly natural. The tease prickling the end of your tongue fizzles out under his teeth across the curve of your shoulder, goosebumps blossoming along your back. 

A whimper unbecoming of an adult woman breaks the lullaby of summer air conditioner singing through the vents. You’re sweating under the cling of your dress, skin hot to the touch thanks to Yoongi’s attention; long fingers curved around your waist, thumbs skimming just under your breast.

“Could have fooled me.”

“This is a very nice dress.” His mouth bites down your neck, taking advantage of the new strips of skin the neckline unveils.

“That’s all it takes?” you pant from the wet of his tongue. “A pretty dress?”

“If you think,” he whispers into your ear. “I’m doing this because of your dress then you really haven’t been paying attention.”

The dark locks of his hair are too alluring to resist, tempting one of your own hands to scratch against the tip of his spine when Yoongi rolls against you again. A firm tug brings him to your mouth, lips molding to one another in a searing kiss. You can taste the coffee from the lounge and the faintest hint of cigarette smoke, like he thought to hide it before asking you to follow him.

“How long? How long have you wanted this?”

Yoongi hooks one of your thighs higher, savoring the heat of your core against the crotch of his pants with a slow thrust. “Since you came in and busted my balls over not having that archived manuscript when the website said we did.”

You remember that day. Patience thin from Taehyung’s loud overnight guest, you stormed into the library looking to take it out on a photocopy of the manuscript only for the only copy to be AWOL. Yoongi became the surrogate for your rage, his eyes burning into your skull as questioned how he could let it happen.

The next day was when he started adding books to your stack.

“That was months ago.”

“I’m a patient guy.”

You want him naked; ache to catalog what he’s hidden underneath bulky sweaters and loose button ups over the past few months. But that idea has to wait for somewhere less risky. You settle for dipping your hand under his shirt, tracing your fingers over the elastic of his boxers peeking from the waistband of his pants.

Attempting to hide the effect he has, you loop your fingers in his belt loops and pull him even closer so your face is hidden in the crook of his neck. “There’s a Boy in the Girls’ Bathroom? A little on the nose, don’t you think?”

“Like The Stocking was Hung is any better?” Yoongi sighs as your mouth ghosts over the rising vein webbing the side of his throat.

“Hey!” you object, rising to face him. “I thought you’d appreciate it after that mothman book.”

“I appreciate you complimenting my dick plenty.”

Yoongi doesn’t let you go, hands palming at the swell of your ass the entire way from the door to the counter. He’s got one hand curved along your jaw, thumb hooked around your chin and his teeth bruising your lower lip. The edge of granite digs in your spine but not for long as he lifts you and settles on his knees to dive under your skirt. 

He kisses up your calf, tongue snaking across the knob of your knee then the plush of your thigh. Just when you feel a puff of breath against the damp crotch of your panties, Yoongi falls to repeat the same path against your other leg. 

You don’t suffer for long. Pooling the excess fabric around your waist, Yoongi blinks up from between your thighs. The pink of his tongue follows the edge of your panties, wetting the fabric more until it clings obscenely. 

He pushes his glasses up to rest on the top of his head, keeping the mess of gray and black hair out of his eyes before diving back down.

His tongue lathers over your covered slit with a groan. “Taste better than I imagined.”

“You thought about this?”

“Couldn’t stop thinking about it. On my desk, yours, against that fucking bookshelf.” Yoongi punctures each word with more wet kisses against your core. “In my car, my bed. Everywhere.”

A cool breath has your thighs squeezing around his head thanks to the erotic combination of his spit and your own fluids drenching your panties. “Is this all you think about?”

“I had to come up here and jerk off yesterday because I couldn’t stop thinking about your hands.”

Your panties are pulled to the side before you can indulge in the new visual blooming on the edge of consciousness. “Yoongi.”

Eyes closed, his mouth circles your clit, tongue gently stroking you to life. Every pass against the sensitive bundle of nerves has your thighs squeezing around his head. 

The first prod of fingers makes Yoongi’s hold on the crook of your knee tighten. He stretches you back open, eyes following the way you suck him inside; coating his spindly digits with more arousal each time.

“A-ah,” you shake. “Please.”

Yoongi chances a glance up at your face, the needy sheen in your eyes, the way your mouth gapes, and decides to take mercy. 

He latches back onto your clit. Yoongi groans as you tug his hair, knocking his glasses to the ground. The pace he works your remains lethargic, savoring the kick of your hips until you grind against his mouth. 

Throaty groans vibrate against your cunt, tightening the muscles along the inside of your thighs. Neither of you are doing a good job muffling yourselves but if it’s between getting caught and having him stop then you’ll deal with the consequences when they come.

“Oh, Yoongi.” Your chest pulls tight; spurred on by the sounds of Yoongi bullying your insides, his mouth smacking against your folds. “I’m— oh, oh, oh!”

The rough crook of his fingers sends you flying. Only the pressure of his shoulders keep you from slipping off the counter as you explode against his mouth. Euphoria rushes your veins, licks of pleasure overwhelming. Every muscle quivers as Yoongi works you through until you use his hair to pull him away.

He’s quick on his feet. You’re still recovering as Yoongi pushes your bra down and draws one of your nipples into his mouth, licking and sucking until you pull his hair again. Eyes cinched tight, face wet, you force his pants open then his underwear until Yoongi is almost as exposed as you are; pretty in your palm, sticky and hot to the touch.

But it’s not enough to feel him in your hand, you need to feel him inside. To fill you up where you sit hollow and aching without his fingers to provide a sliver of relief. “Fuck me.”

Yoongi doesn’t tease, has no quip about how needy you are. He keeps his mouth on your chest and uses his hands to grab something out of his pocket. It happens so fast you don’t even realize the condom is on until he nudges between your legs.

Your nails dig into his back, breathing through the initial stretch is the only way you stay quiet. Yoongi hides himself back in your neck, strained noises clawing out of his throat.

Yoongi isn’t gentle. Not caution or waiting. Months of push and pull destroy any desire for him to treat you as something fragile. He rushes into desperately, forcing your palm flat against the mirror behind you for some semblance of stability.

“God,” he grunts. “You’re incredible.”

You whimper a quiet acknowledgement, too fucked out to blush under his praise; pulling Yoongi closer until he’s scooping his hands underneath your ass, thrusting into you over and over. His mouth finds yours. Greedy. Hungry. 

It’s Yoongi who struggles to stay quiet. Even through the kiss he moans loud enough you feel it in your throat. You listen to them all, twisting the hand knotted in his hair to hear the whine you’ve quickly become obsessed with.

“Should have done this sooner,” your back arches and Yoongi’s mouth slips back down. 

“I tried. But you kept ignoring me.”

“I wasn’t—fuck—ignoring you.” Yoongi is everywhere. His taste on your mouth, cologne burned in your nose. The feel of him all over your body. “Shit.”

He fucks you harder to prove a point, hand slipping down to rub your clit. Your second orgasm glows on the edges. If Yoongi keeps playing with you, stretching you in half on his cock and biting a mark into your breast, you know you’ll come.

You focus on breathing. Letting it come to you instead of chasing it, overthinking it to the point it evades you. It’s easier than usual. Yoongi doesn't leave room for anything else beyond feeling good. 

“Oh my god,” you whisper as the cord tightens. 

Everything turns white hot, pleasure tearing through your muscles and ripping them to shreds. You convulse in Yoongi’s hold, only pinned down by his hips fucking you brutally. Nerves shot, Yoongi babbles praise in your ear but it's indecipherable from the headrush.

Yoongi follows you over the edge a few strokes later, twitching inside you until he stills. His hips give a few arrhythmic bucks as he fills the condom with his load. 

There's something nastier about clothed sex. The way sweat makes your clothes cling tighter, the rush of needing each other so badly you can’t be bothered to do more than pull things to the side. 

You feel dirty but in a good way. Yoongi kisses across the apples of your cheeks, your chin, your forehead, even your brows, but never returns to your lips. Each leaves you more frustrated than the last, muscles twitching beneath and head turning at the last second to try and meet his mouth. 

Tricking you with a brief connection, he laughs when you chase his lips as he dodgers back. But a pout and whine bring him back into your orbit.

He cleans you up with paper towels, wiping away the mess between your thighs with something akin to disappointment. But he doesn’t complain as he fixes your clothes and then his own. Muscles like jelly, you fall into his side when he helps you down from the counter. 

With a kiss to your temple, “Let's get out of here.”

“Morning, Yoongi.” You smile as you walk up to his desk.

A set of dark eyes rise to greet you, taking the cup of coffee you so graciously offer before smiling as well. “Good morning.”

Jungkook gawks like he’s never seen you two speak before. Round eyes bounce between you and Yoongi as if it’s a tennis match instead of a normal conversation. Probably because Yoongi was less than subtle when he pulled you out of the building yesterday, telling him to call Namjoon if anything came up.

Or maybe because you’re wearing one of Yoongi’s shirts.

You discovered much about the mysterious librarian overnight. He’d taken you back to his apartment; a perfect extension of himself decorated with dark furniture and more books than anyone could possibly read. Yoongi owned a collection of vinyl records that rivaled his book collection, he was a great cook, and he was studying to take the entrance exam for law school. 

After you were wined and dined, Yoongi dedicated hours between your legs. On his couch, against the massive bookcase in his living room, between the sheets of his bed. 

He also had a kink for eating you out while you explained your thesis in precise detail.

You’d only been allowed to leave when Yoongi was getting ready for work, not that you'd put up much argument. 

You make a scene of sorting through the stack he slides over. It’s not that you don’t trust Yoongi. But now that you’ve had a taste, you’re addicted to his presence. But he unfortunately can’t follow you upstairs so you savor the time now. 

“One of my books is missing,” you say.

“Oh, right.”

Yoongi passes over an unfamiliar copy.

Maybe He Just Likes You

And the blue sticky note attached, with his handwriting. ‘Dinner when you're done?’

Taglist: @tomodachiii @cvpidyunho @miniseokminnies @ddaengpotate @arycutie @gaebestie @primoppang @gyuguys @mine-gyu @doremifasire @missminhoe @toplinehyunjin @crvs4vldtn @prettygyuuu @lovelyhachi @sliceofwoozi @dokyeomkyeom @yoonguurt

© highvern. copying/reuploading/translating my work anywhere is strictly prohibited.

[cheeky-kookie]

I really miss writing yall 😭 I need to start up again. I just had no motivation for a very long time.

[jung-koook]

jungkook tying his hair up ♡ 🥹

[cheeky-kookie]

He is so pretty 💜

[gukgi]

💜💜💜

[cheeky-kookie]

Boyfriend Material

[jung-koook]

jungkook’s hands… 🥵

[cheeky-kookie]

Oh wow

[cheeky-kookie]

Off Key | M.Y.G.

Yoongi/Reader | Angst, Fluff, Slice of Life | Pianist!Yoongi x Harpist!Reader

Word Count: 12.7K

Summary: Dedicated to your own work, you thought the idea of interacting with anyone was a waste of valuable time and, even more so, a distraction. Yet, after an unfortunate run in with a classmate you find yourself offering up your own time in hopes that his talent doesn’t go wasted.

A/N: I didn’t expect this one to be so long but here I am. It took me forever to write this one in-between working and fighting a major dip in my creativity but here it is. I’m very happy with it and I hope you all like it!

Breathe.

His fingers lingered against the keys as he tried to bring himself to touch down onto them. His heart rate was through the roof, causing him to sweat more than he would have liked to in front of so many people. He has been working up to this moment for months now, but it was much easier said than done.

He liked to say he was a confident man, at least confident in himself, but with all eyes on him he felt himself shrink into a nervous wreck. A lot was riding on this and it wasn’t just his pride, but his future. That idea in itself felt suffocating. He let out a shaky breath.

Well, it was too late to run. 

Keep reading

[lazydaysoobinie]

If anyone was wondering, I’m currently working on a Roommate!Yeonjun fic 💜

[cheeky-kookie]

Sorry for the Absence (and a peak into my WIPs)

I’ve been so busy with work and school that I haven’t been able to be as active on here as I’d like.

I do have good news though

I’ve been working on two new fics in the few moments I’ve had to be creative and I’m very excited to share them with you guys! Im almost done with one of them, and the other is completely outlined and ready to be put onto paper!

The WIPs

Jungkook // Exes to Lovers AU // Writing

Yoongi // Reaper AU // Outlined

I have a few more WIPs that are nowhere near ready for me to share and give details on, but know that I have stuff planned for a while

[jung-koook]

I’m always thinking about this jungkook

[jung-koook]

jungkook is really the sweetest person ever 🥹

[jung-koook]

jungkook is so unserious 😆

[cheeky-kookie]

I would die for him

[cheeky-kookie]

Bite Me | Part 1 | P.J.M.

Jimin/Reader | Angst, Fluff, Smut | Vampire!Jimin

Word Count: 10.7K

 Summary: Growing up, you always learned to look over your shoulder at night, hoping to never run into the catlike gleam of a vampires eyes. Yet, one night on your way home you find yourself staring into the very things you feared most. Dangerously beautiful and undeniably confident, Park Jimin was everything you knew you needed to stay away from, but he had other plans.

Warnings: Language | Prey Stalking | Pain/Blood Kink | Biting | Teasing | Blood (Obviously) | Oral Female Receiving | Penetration | Jimin Actually Being A Sweetheart | Mentions Of Death | Jimin Using The Nickname Sweetheart An Ungodly Amount Of Times |

A/N: It’s been so long since I’ve posted one of my works, yikes! I am so sorry for the wait on this! I have been working on this one for months, fitting it in in-between work and moving to a new house. I really am proud of this one. Also, this is my first attempt at writing smut. Anywho, I won’t keep you any longer!

Read Part Two: Here

Your head flew back in laughter as you exited, throwing the front door of the pub you had been visiting wide open. A loud bang being heard as the connection the door made to the wall echoed into the night, being mixed with the sound of your laughter and the conversation your friends were having next to you.

You stumbled a little as you lost your balance on the last step. You mentally blamed the heels you’ve been wearing and the uneven ground you had stepped onto. You held both your hands out to the side catching your balance before another wave of laughter came from the group.

“Are you sure you’re okay?” Asked Ryder, his eyes finding yours as he scanned your body looking for any signs that you were in fact not okay. His hands wrapped around the woman next to him keeping her close to him.

“Yeah, I’m fine,” You reassured, waving your hand dismissively. They had continuously been worried since you had told them that you were going to walk home. Your house being only streets away, you didn’t want to risk being pulled over. You would rather have to track back the next morning. But you understood their concern. It was late and they were more active at night.

Keep reading

[cheeky-kookie]

In honor of the spooky season, I'm bringing back this gem 💜

[jung-koook]

barefaced jungkook pushing his hair back ♡

[cheeky-kookie]

Some boyfriend materials

[userhobi]

his hair looks sexy pushed back

[cheeky-kookie]

I'm actually choking