Summary: Two frat houses, not alike in dignity as neither really had any to begin with, in [generic college campus] where we lay our scene--a feud as old as time between Kim Seokjin, with his faithful friends Yoongi and Jimin, and Kim Taehyung, with his genius friend Namjoon, unfolds. When streamer Jungkook and tour guide Hoseok enter stage right, a war of more than just pranks will begin. Who will suck the worst, no, best--no, the most? No, the hardest!? They all will, considering the frats are made up of vampires. Let the sucking begin!
So I wanted to write something silly after such a heavy story (“Cops & Chaebols”). A friend, the lovely Lovelyhobs, wanted me to write this idea well over a year ago, so I’m finally getting to it! This story is just going to be as dumb and silly as possible! Don’t think too much about it! I did, however, think a lot about it. I didn’t want to do “typical” vampires, so I’m using some pretty “normal” lore and then coming up with my own thing. The vampires in this world have evolved to be almost like humans. They are not known (people would still freak out if they knew there were vampires out there!). They can walk in the sun and sleep at normal times, and they can even eat normal food. But think of them as having a rare immune system disease that requires them to eat certain things in order to stay healthy, aka, blood. Just like normal humans, each vampire requires different types of blood, and some even thrive better on animal versus human blood, etc. They can be seen in mirrors, and garlic isn’t their weakness (except Jin, who’s allergic). If you drive a stake in their heart, they’ll OBVIOUSLY DIE, DUH, OW. Not every vampire has every “typical” vampire power you might think of. Only some can turn into bats, only some can do hypnosis, only some have super speed, etc. Just like how some humans are gifted at birth with special talents, so are some vampires! Hopefully this is enough background to get you going! I’ll try to reveal more things as we go, but I really have no plan for this, I’m just writing :p Let me know if you have any questions! I hope this is fun! This year hasn't been "great" for my writing, and I can't promise posting often. I have four chapters of this so far (150ish pages), so I do want to post what I have before the year is over.
Setting: Generic; didn't put a specific place, but it's probably an American campus somewhere; set during 2022-2024.
Character notes: I made them all 19-22 to make sure they're all Freshmen-Seniors to all be at school at the same time.
Ships: TaeJin is supposed to be the "main" ship, but typical of me, there are two side ships that might seem to get more attention at first. We have the lovely Jimin and Hoseok and then a lovely trio of Yoongi, Namjoon, and Jungkook. Solo shippers can go away <;3
TW: I'm all about consent, so I will do my best to explain all of that to the best of my ability. But this is a vampire story--if someone drinking someone's blood bothers you, please just don't read this. This is a funny (or attempted to be funny) story more than anything else, so it won't concentrate on any violence.
Rating: M for now
I don't really know anything about frats, so if nothing is "realistic"--uh, it's a fictional story.
Warnings: THERE WILL BE BLOOD!! It’s VAMPIRES!! Also some smut, but idk how much or what kind yet. Also bad words. Some characters deal with some anxiety and self-deprecating thoughts for us to get through.
AO3 masterlist
Chapter 1: Stroker versus Worthless
Perhaps it wasn’t the best place to start. The quad or dining hall or state-of-the-art nursing facility with fancy animatronics that would definitely give certain people nightmares as their too-human and yet scarily fake eyes lolled toward you might have been the “best” place. But the boy with a nametag shining into the sun and a heart-shaped smile wasn’t the best tour guide on campus for no reason.
“My name is Jung Hoseok. Let me be the first to welcome you to Lanton Academy, Middle Earth campus!” he called out with a clap of his hands. The moms and dads settled down, and the kids snapped to attention. He used to be surprised at how quickly the parents made friends with each other, but he had figured out a long time ago that most of their chatting was just trying to figure out how to one-up the other.
And the kids—scrawny and wide-eyed or bored and uninterested looking on their phones—he could tell now who was here because their parents wanted them to be a legacy child versus the kid who had been dreaming of this university their whole lives for some reason versus the one who had decided college wasn’t for them at all and would probably drop out after a year at the most versus the one who was too anxious to make any sort of huge decision about their future so would tour twenty campuses until they all blurred into one.
“As you may know, Lanton has four campuses now,” Hoseok said as he moved his arms in what he called the “airplane stewardess” motions. He pointed to the West, North, and then down West as he explained the other campuses’ locations.
“There is Science & Tech, Nursing & Education, and Totally Everything, all within a quick tram ride of each other. Today we’ll cover all four campuses, so make sure to get a hot chocolate or coffee when we stop by the on-campus tea and coffee spot, Sip Home in Transylvania. If you’re curious, ask me later about where that name came from! Now, we’re starting today at two of the most famous fraternity houses on the school’s entire ground. All frat houses are here on Middle Earth campus, while you’ll find all the ladies on the west campus, S&T.”
He tried to keep the history lessons short, but it was the parents with the money he had to impress, not usually the kids. Everyone was looking up at the buildings he started to describe, anyway, and he couldn’t really blame them. He didn’t get to come to this campus except for work, but ever since he saw one of the frat boys leaning out his window when Hoseok was having some pictures taken outside, he had found any excuse he could to come by the place. He was even going to rush this semester, and Hoseok had never had any desire previously to join the fraternity life.
Perhaps he glanced a bit longingly up at the window he hoped was open, but the morning was still a bit too cold. Warming himself with the packs in his pockets and the memories of golden hair dancing in the autumn breeze while small hands ran over a pale, smooth chest before they waved down at him, Hoseok cleared his throat to carry on with his tour.
“On the left you’ll see Stoker house, named after the man himself, Bram Stoker, author of the iconic Dracula. On the right is Wordsworth house, named after, you guessed it, William Wordsworth. Does anyone know his most famous work?”
“‘The Tyger,’ probably,” a boy with huge glasses who looked like a cross between Arthur the aardvark and Draco Malfoy said. “Tyger, Tyger, burning bright, in the forest of the night. Or perhaps ‘I Wandered Lonely As a Cloud.’ It’s probably that one, isn’t it?”
“Oh, wow, a fan,” Hoseok said, not making fun of the boy at all even as a few people laughed. “Do you know the Lucy Gray ones, then?”
“Oh, yes!” the boy looked excited now, and Hoseok would bet a million dollars he didn’t have on what the kid’s major was going to be. “The one about the child being abducted!”
“Good lord,” a mother muttered.
“Or about vampires,” Hoseok leaned his torso in.
“Vampires? It’s not about vampires.”
“And why isn’t it? The moon—her disappearing without any footprints. A vampire turned into a bat and stole her from the bridge.”
“A—” the boy said before going silent. Letting him sit with the theory, Hoseok pointed back up to the houses.
“The oldest building on campus—”
“It looks it,” a dad said under his breath.
“—it used belong to Steven Lanton, who founded Lanton in 1909. A lover of literature, the school started out as a Fine Arts academy and grew from there. Today, the Wordsworth house is the oldest fraternity on campus and thus one of the most prestigious. Though we can’t forget Stoker next door, home to some of the most famous families in the area. Rumor has it, these two are the hardest fraternities to get into.”
“Are you in one?”
“No,” Hoseok said with a shrug. “But I’ll rush this semester.”
“What year are you? Aren’t you too old?”
“Not at all. You can join even as a senior. I’m a junior this year, though.”
“Do you major in literature?” the boy with the glasses asked again.
“Not at all,” Hoseok said with a flourish of his coat. “I’m a fashion major.”
“Then—why’d you come to this school?” someone else asked.
“Oh, my dad’s a professor here. Literature,” Hoseok said. Someone softly gasped in the crowd, a whispered,
“Nepotism,” making Hoseok force a smile.
“Which one is better to join?”
“Obviously the Stocker one,” a dad pointed. “Look at the structure. The other one’s completely falling apart.”
“Funny you should ask,” Hoseok grinned. The dad did have a fair point. With its white brick, black window frames and door and railing around the stairs and porch, the house certainly looked more interesting from a design perspective. It was two stories tall with a tower in one corner that might have housed a bell at some point or, if the local rumors were anything to go by, a gargoyle.
In contrast, the building next door looked like it was in disarray. The fading blue wooden walls were barely hanging onto the window shades. The porch and stairs had at least one spot where you might lose a foot if you stepped incorrectly. And the yard hadn’t been trimmed in a while but also had spots of dead grass. They also had decorations up from various holidays, mostly Christmas lights with a mixture of Halloween ones. Several fake bats were hanging along the porch that Hoseok swore had been moved every time he brought a different tour by. The only clean part of Wordsworth seemed to be a garden off to the side which stayed vibrant no matter the season, though with the snow still melting from the weekend, it was currently covered in several sheets littered with tiny bears on them.
He looked up at the window on the building on the left and tried not to sigh seeing it was closed and still dark inside.
“I myself am hoping to join Stoker,” he finally answered the original question, “but don’t let appearances deceive you! Like I said, Wordsworth has some of the brightest and most talented minds on campus! Have you heard of Kim Taehyung?”
“No,” a chorus of voices rang out, but Hoseok didn’t let the negativity dissuade him.
“A junior, like me. Recently had one of his pieces showing in the MOA. The MOA!”
“The moan-a?” a mom whispered to another one as Hoseok started to walk backwards. One foot behind the other, he stuck a huge grin on his face.
Perhaps the two frat houses that were the hardest to get into wasn’t the best place to start his tour. None of the kids in the circle following after him would probably get in even if they tried. Hells, he might not get in, and everyone liked him. But as Hoseok looked back up at the shut window one more time, he knew they had to start somewhere.
Every story did.
The beginning to any good dish, as any half-respected chef would tell you, was the selection of ingredients. Forget the recipe. The recipe means nothing. There is no recipe. Just the fresh zucchini, just the ripe pears, just the blood dripping out of the recently butchered meat. And to select the finest ingredients took a nose, an eye, even a tongue skilled beyond one dipped into the salt bath of fast food or corrupted by the sordid, flashing videos of the Tik-Tok. It took a knowledge beyond the super market, an ability to forage as nature intended for the best selections, a wisdom surpassing one’s years that—
“Jin. Please,” the thinnest and palest boy sitting at the table said as he slumped his face into his palms. “Can we please eat?”
“Yoongi, I am trying to educate you,” the tallest boy in the room huffed as he put his hands on his hips.
“There’s some O in the fridge,” the blonde on the couch said. “Want me to get you some?”
“No, what Jin made smells delicious. If only he would let me try it,” Yoongi glared up at the boy standing in front of the table who finally flopped his hands to his sides.
“Fine, you monster. Tear into it.”
“Not sure how one tears into eggs,” Yoongi mumbled before picking up his fork. The three other boys at the table did the same.
“So today we have scrambled eggs with a hint of chipotles in adobo sauce. The extra dark color and slightly sweet taste is coming from the blood Jimin so lovingly procured for us. I do hope you savor your meal and—oh, you’re done.”
“Thanks,” the boy with a white buzzcut said as he hopped up.
“There’s no more?” the frowniest of the group asked. When Seokjin picked up the empty dish and shook his head sadly, the boy thrusted his fork hard enough into the table to leave two small puncture marks, but no one even startled before he grumbled and slunk off.
“Jimin, you didn’t even get any, I’m sorry,” Seokjin frowned.
“He wasn’t at the table,” the last boy shrugged before collecting the plates, the lack of sleep as heavy as a weighted blanket on his movement. “Yoongi, could I show you a song before you leave? I was up all night coming up with it.”
“We heard,” everyone in the house said before Jimin dragged himself out of his chair.
“I’m not hungry, Jin, really. Still feel full from last night.”
“Still feel hungover, is what you mean.” Yoongi leaned back in his chair and crossed his arms over his chest as he watched the blonde stretch. “You really have to watch how much you drink.”
“I think you will find, you pale little bitch, that it’s a matter of quality, not quantity. Everyone tastes so gross.”
“You find them in clubs. Of course they taste gross,” Yoongi snorted softly.
“Oh, where should I find them, then?”
“Perhaps you could be a bit more like me,” Seokjin said with a palm against his chest, “and procure your blood at the finest establishments in town.”
“The campus dining hall is only one step above the dumpster, but keep letting yourself be delusional,” Jimin said with a pat to Seokjin’s arm before he stumbled back up the stairs.
“You’ll be late for class,” Yoongi called out to him, the finger sent back down his way making him roll his eyes. “Speaking of delusional,” he said as he sat back up straight and tapped the table to get Seokjin’s attention who was running his finger through the pan to stick into his mouth to suck on. “Your plans for rush. No. Absolutely not. Maybe, like, fifty percent of it will work.”
“What? Why not?”
“Because we can’t throw people off the ceiling to, quote, see if they can fly.”
“Well, it worked with you,” Seokjin said innocently.
“And you’re lucky Jimin was around to make everyone forget they saw someone literally turn into a bat before he went splat. Realistic, Jin. We have to be realistic.”
“But I just want to make sure we get a good one this year,” Seokjin huffed as he handed the dish over. “Not sure if I want another Vlad added to our mix.”
“He can hear you,” the boy washing the dishes hissed.
“No, that’s Zane.”
“And every day, I wish I couldn’t!” a yell from down the hall came.
“Vlad needs to take up fencing or something,” Yoongi suggested. “Get all that stabby-stabby out of him. Look back at the list, Jin. Make some cuts. I haven’t even let Jimin look at it yet, and you know the ‘obstacle course in a re-constructed graveyard’ is out of the budget.”
“Nothing’s out of my budget,” Seokjin said as he sat down and put his feet up on a nearby chair.
“And you know we’re not supposed to use personal money for the house budget.”
“The house budget comes from my family’s money,” Seokjin huffed. “I don’t get why any of that matters. Besides, we have to beat Worthless.”
“Worthless,” the boy washing dishes repeated.
“Worthless!” a shout from down the hall came, two more echoing from throughout the house after it.
“Worthless,” Yoongi nodded, the chanting never quite his thing. “Yes, yes, you know we will. It’s not even going to be a competition. They’ll probably be finger painting and sitting in a circle talking about their feelings again. Just look at the budget, please. D, show me that song?”
“Oh, yeah,” D’Arcy—who was always called anything but that—said, his fingers still dripping as he hurried to his room as fast as his sluggish form could. Following much slower, Yoongi shuffled into the boy’s room where Zane was getting dressed, his regular giant coat with what looked like a lion’s mane around the neck ruffling against Yoongi on his way out.
“Nine AM classes suck,” he groaned as the pair gave him a solitary look of sympathy. The boy gave Seokjin a salute on his way out, and Seokjin, pajama shorts and t-shirt still on, shivered when the blast of cold air came in. He shuffled upstairs to his room and yanked his blinds open, his hands on the windowsill as he pressed against the glass to look across the yard between his house and the ratty one next door.
“I know you’re in there,” he whispered, a fog gathering around his lips until he couldn’t see. Sputtering a little, he pushed himself back and plopped into his desk chair, the files he had been looking at well into maybe nine PM last night giving him a headache already.
He was the proud owner of five vampires.
Tapping the papers against the desk to make sure they were all even, he looked at the first page and smiled. Seokjin was destined to be president of the Stoker house because of his family heritage—a great-great grandfather from England in his pursuit of the best tea in the world had traveled to Korea and bit off a little more than he could chew, a phrase which, to Seokjin, made no sense, since one didn’t chew on tea.
But Min Yoongi had gotten to join the house merely because he was the luckiest bastard in the world to have met Seokjin. Seokjin was humble enough to acknowledge he was lucky to meet the guy in return. The first time the guy slid his coffee over and watched, albeit a little creepily, until Seokjin took a sip was when Yoongi still worked at the campus coffee shop, and Seokjin had known right away he was a fellow vampire. It just took a little work to find out how Yoongi had known Seokjin was.
Because unlike one of the many ridiculous beliefs about vampires, Seokjin didn’t go around knowing who was who with a mere sniff. Sure, if he bit someone, he would know, but there were rules. They weren’t savages. Yoongi, however, at least on what he called a “good day,” could tell with one smell. Yoongi had been almost impossible to convince to join the house. He wanted nothing to do with anything “the masses” were doing, and he’d “rather jump in front of the wagon than in it” even if there was a fun band playing. Not at all a trend follower, he only saw the errors of his ways when he realized what he knew all along—all life was war, and joining the winning side was always the smart thing to do.
A man of great organizational skills, he had become the fraternity’s secretary upon joining. Seokjin grinned at the little picture paperclipped to the file, Yoongi’s hand halfway in it as he wanted to block the camera.
“So feisty,” Seokjin laughed before putting it face down on the desk. He knew Yoongi’s strengths well. Not only were his powers extremely useful—because being able to smell or hear or see the enemy coming before anyone else could always meant they had the upper hang—but his skills were, too. Having only played “dignified” instruments growing up like cello and piano, Seokjin knew more classical music than what Yoongi and D listened to, but he could tell Yoongi was talented. His double major in architecture always seemed random to other people, but he had fixed the house up a lot in the past two years, so Seokjin would never trade him for the world.
He wouldn’t trade Jimin, either. Without him, they might have all been surviving off of ramen. Without blood. Seokjin shuddered thinking about it as he looked at Jimin’s file, the boy’s smile with his cute little twisted tooth making Seokjin smile back at him. A junior, Jimin had been one of the only people Seokjin had ever met who he felt intimidated by. His hypnosis power certainly had something to do with it. Some days the boy’s moral compass confused Seokjin. Jimin was always the first one on board with doing a prank, but he had “limits.” Seokjin shook his head just thinking about how many times Jimin had said “Well, I can’t do that.” Why he didn’t use his hypnosis to just make the stupid house next door lose its members or fall apart or disappear somehow was beyond Seokjin.
But Jimin had a mutual enemy of Seokjin, and when he had met the boy when he transferred over, they had become allies. And now they were friends. Trying not to wrinkle the paper as he thought about the boy they both hated, he wished some of the dumb powers people wrote about vampires having were real. Mainly, as he looked at the poster full of holes on his wall labeled “Public Enemy #1,” he wished his fingernails could come off so he could fling them like sharp little knives.
Taking a deep breath, he put Jimin’s file on top of Yoongi’s, knowing his powers and personality were invaluable. The last three files Seokjin went through quickly.
Vlad Akasha was their newest recruit, mainly chosen for his incredible strength. Seokjin foresaw standing behind him in battle, the guy’s body keeping Seokjin safe, and the moment had been momentously monumental. In reality, he wasn’t turning out to be very controllable. The stereotype of big but dumb just wasn’t really true, and even Jimin had trouble making him do anything. Then again, hypnosis didn’t work on other vampires like it did on humans, but still. Seokjin had hope, and it had been dashed, or stabbed, the first time Vlad took his fork at a house dinner and plunged it into the table.
“You missed your meat,” Seokjin had said cheerfully, only growing half afraid the boy wanted to eat the table when he did it again before he managed to get the beef in his mouth. So far, he hadn’t taken that fork, or any other sharp object, to any of them or to any humans—that Seokjin knew of—so in the past couple of months they had just started to see his constant but spontaneous stabbing as a fun little quirk! The boy was studying physical education, and sometimes Seokjin found him and Jimin studying muscles together, so at least they had that to bond over.
The next file was for D’Arcy Enkil, who had pursued Stoker house after Yoongi joined. It wasn’t that Seokjin hated to admit he had a little celebrity in the house. He was one himself. In a totally different field. So they weren’t competing. He used it to his advantage. Yoongi was the most private celebrity Seokjin had ever met, but he supposed that was part of his appeal. The brooding, mysterious type. Seokjin went for the tall and handsome part, and together they made an excellent team.
Trying not to get distracted by himself, Seokjin read through D’Arcy’s file again. He studied music and had no discernable vampire skills, but that was no fault of his own. Some vampires just didn’t. He was good at keeping the house clean and followed orders well, so Seokjin considered him a wonderful asset to the house.
Finally, Seokjin came to Zane Maharat’s file who had been in the house his four years at the university but was a follower with no desire to lead. The Maharat family was one of the most famous vampire lines, so Seokjin was honored to live with the boy. Zane was studying business in order to take over the family’s when the time came, and he was one of the most boring people Seokjin had ever met. Plus, he had this strange habit of talking about werewolves.
He had thankfully calmed down over the past four years, but his obsession with liking them had turned into wanting to be one, and Seokjin wasn’t one to judge people, but he had his boundaries. Sure, werewolves weren’t actually real, and whoever had written about the first fight between them and vampires might as well have written alien versus predator—with the vampires being the predators, obviously, who would always win against the nasty little abominations of nature—but it was the principal of the matter!
The poor boy—a good little boy, really, who had maybe recently cut most of his hair off because he was tired of Seokjin cooing at him while rubbing his head as he scratched behind his ear—had excellent hearing, so they were used to him wearing headphones most of the day just so he wouldn’t have to hear every little thing. Seokjin assumed it was a little like having an ASMR video playing constantly in your ear, and that would drive anyone crazy.
“Well,” he said as he put the files back together and leaned back in his chair to stare out the window. Ability wise, the Stoker house was far more superior than the one next door. They had more prestigious families. They had more money. They had Seokjin, for god’s sake! But Seokjin wasn’t out to just win. He was out to annihilate them. Their leader had made the mistake of embarrassing him once, and Seokjin would never let that happen again. Standing up, he approached the poster on the wall, his drawing skills not the best, but the guy’s face clear in his mind, and stuck a sharp nail right up under where his nostrils would be if he had drawn any of them.
“Hope you’re ready to rush, buddy. Right to the bathroom to shit your little pants,” he said, laughing before flinging his closet open to get dressed.
The house he was in charge of was like a complicated recipe, and rush was the opportunity to find the next perfect ingredient. As long as he made sure next door’s result was a pile of shit equivalent to a can of spam, his was sure to be as fancy as Kobe beef with a carrot puree infused with O negative with stuffed rigatoni and grilled asparagus with shaved truffles and parmesan on top.
“Shit, I’m hungry,” Seokjin almost moaned at the thought. If anything, he needed to start the day right. The battle, after all, was about to begin.
If he started from the top, it would take forever to get to the bottom. It was just so—so long. Just an absolute disaster from head to toe. There was no point in even starting. It would never turn out right. Sighing as his robe fell open, the tail trailing along the floor, Kim Taehyung snapped his fingers softly before sighing again when no flames appeared in the fireplace he had been staring into.
“I’m cold,” he mumbled before leaning his head back off the couch a little. “I’m bored.”
“Perhaps if you help me with rush plans. Or study. Or go to class. Surely you have class.”
“Not until four,” Taehyung said as he rolled over to stare at the man sitting in the chair that could only be described as a sinkhole. How Namjoon ever got back out of it was a mystery. The top of his hair was a bit ruffled, and his huge glasses were pressed up high on his nose, and he had long, fuzzy socks on. Starting from the top of Namjoon would be easy, but that wasn’t where Taehyung wanted to begin.
“How long have you been there?” he mumbled.
“Since last night. Fell asleep reading.”
“Typical,” Taehyung said as he watched the guy continue to do just that. Taehyung had also fallen asleep on the couch without being sure of what time it had happened, but he hadn’t been reading. He had been thinking. Plotting. Of how to get back at one person in particular. A typical night for him and his friend, really. The house was quiet, the morning only barely beginning, but by the afternoon everyone would rouse and be thumping around so much Taehyung would wonder, not for the first time, if someone was going to fall through the top floor. Rolling back over, he flicked his finger at the blinds to no avail. They didn’t open. Sighing, he shuffled to the kitchen to make hot chocolate. First, though, he had to find a clean cup.
“Why are there no clean dishes?” he huffed.
“No one can find the chore chart,” Namjoon told him.
“We have a chore chart?” Taehyung hummed as he looked around for it for a second, too, before shrugging and going back to his drink.
“You should drink something real,” Namjoon tsked at him as Taehyung came back over to the couch.
“Says the man who drinks three b-cups every morning.”
“They’re tasty. Least there’s blood in them,” Namjoon mumbled before he threw a stack of papers onto Taehyung’s lap. “Rush.”
“No thanks,” Taehyung said. “I like my mornings slow and boring. Unlike them.” He couldn’t actually hear anything from next door. He couldn’t see them, either. But he knew. They all got up and lined up like the Van Trap family, their bowties on tight enough to make their lungs screech. Like little brainwashed soldiers, they traipsed off to class singing their leader’s praises.
Kim Seokjin! Kim Seokjin! Kim Seokjin!
Taehyung growled just thinking about him, so he whipped the papers up and rummaged through them before throwing them back on the table.
“We aren’t going to be like them. We’ll do what we always do.”
“The paperwork is due Friday, though. So we kind of have to know what that is.”
“Make something up. I trust you,” Taehyung shrugged. “Just make sure it’s better than next door.”
“Yeah, well,” Namjoon mumbled. “I feel like we need a strategy, at least.”
“The strategy is find out what they’re doing so we can sabotage it. Let’s get Louis to hack them.”
“You know Kim does everything on paper.”
“Because he’s too dumb to use a computer,” Taehyung said before pretending to spit on the floor. “Don’t speak his name around me! Can’t stand hearing it. Kim,” he shuddered before sticking his tongue out. Namjoon took his glasses off slowly.
“You’re a Kim. Shit, I’m a Kim.”
“Ugh,” Taehyung said. “Thankfully no relation. It’s really a shame he’s stained our name so offensively.”
“What did he do, ag—”
“So, no hacking,” Taehyung crossed his legs and bounced the top one as he tapped his fingers against his mug, his ring clicking against the glass every time he did. “I could convince a woodland creature to sneak in and—eat the paperwork.”
“The last time you did that, Seokjin just befriended them.”
“Yes, that fucker,” Taehyung growled, his hands tight around his mug’s handle. “Stealing innocent creatures like that. Making them his slaves!”
“I think he let them go, actually, but occasionally I see him feeding them outside. So ma—”
“What, is he a fucking Disney princess?” Taehyung said as he stood up and flung his robe behind him. “Whose side are you on, anyway?”
“Yours, obviously,” Namjoon said as he put his glasses down and stood up to cross his arms over his chest. “Don’t use your fangs on me.”
“Sorry,” Taehyung muttered as he stalked over to the window and pulled one plastic blind down to stare into the other house. From an angle he could see into the corner room at the top of the house. Kim Seokjin’s room. Feeling his lip rising, Taehyung tried not to snarl. The guy was just sitting at his desk. Like a nerd. Reading things. Taehyung bared his fangs, just temporarily, thinking about how long Seokjin’s neck looked. If he bared it just right, Taehyung could chomp just right and—
“God, I hate him,” he sighed as he flung himself back onto the couch and slowly picked up the papers. “Maybe the board would help.”
“Sure thing,” Namjoon said. He soon returned and cleared off whosever’s homework was on the coffee table and put down what used to be a Monopoly board. Taehyung had created his own squares on the back, and here he laid out the battlefield. On the left, the Stoker house. Rummaging around in the drawer that should maybe hold TV remotes if they had a TV in the living room, Taehyung pulled out and dumped out the bag of supplies. No dice were needed. Just the world’s tiniest toy dicks that he set up. He knew each by heart, so there was no need for labels or name tags.
Wiggling the smallest of the group, a pink plastic dildo with as much personality as Kim Seokjin himself, Taehyung arranged them all as he got on his knees and sorted through the other miniatures.
A giant bear, majestic on its hind legs, was him, of course, followed by an owl bear, a creature he knew didn’t exist but was wise and strong so therefore represented Namjoon. Next was the lion, for Louis Lee himself. A computer science major with a bit of a temper issue, Louis was a strong contender for the second smartest in the house and came from a long line of royal vampires—he would probably be king, or president, of the fraternity when he was older.
A wolf figure was for Vladamir Petrov. While Stoker had a Vlad, Taehyung had the real deal with a Vladamir, no cowardly abbreviations here. The guy was an ox. Well, a wolf as Taehyung didn’t have an ox figure. Stronger than two of Stoker’s Vlad’s put together! Really the same size. They could be twins if they wanted to be. But Taehyung would never allow it. They even shared classes together because they had the same major for some reason, but Vladamir never brought back any useful intel. Probably because Vlad was too dumb to be interesting.
Finally, two ravens were placed beside the rest for the twins, Thomas and Tomas Quinn. The only literature majors in the house, they had this habit of going “Quoth the raven!” before turning into bats to sleep which made no sense to Taehyung. There was literally a fraternity named Poe, so he wasn’t sure why they hadn’t joined that one if they were so obsessed with the guy. It probably had something to do with not wanting to freak normal people out about the whole changing into a bat thing.
“Alright,” Taehyung pondered for a moment as Namjoon sat back down and got back to his reading. Whether he was working on his philosophy or psychology, Taehyung wasn’t sure. He couldn’t keep up with most conversations with his friend, but he valued his insight even if sometimes he did come across as way too diplomatic.
Picking his bear up, he pretended to devour the pink dildo with the bear’s mouth as he made roaring noises until he put the figure back down and leaned onto his elbows to evaluate the playing field.
“They do the same thing every year. They pride themselves on it. Vampire tradition and all that,” Taehyung said as he moved his fingers as if someone snooty was talking. “So we just need a way to poison their blood samples.”
“We can’t kill them, Tae.”
“I’m not talking literally! Just—make them a little sick. Could douse everything in garlic.”
“Again, we can’t kill them,” Namjoon reiterated.
“Only Seokjin is allergic!”
“No killing,” Namjoon said one more time. Sighing, Taehyung thought of termites in their coffins but knew he wasn’t allowed to damage school property and he wouldn’t be able to control the little vermin once released.
“Maybe we’ll just make our initiation tests who can make the biggest dick out of snow on their lawn.”
“That’ll really get them,” Namjoon said without looking up from his book.
“I’ll come up with something,” Taehyung hummed as he put his finger on the pink dildo and wiggled it back and forth a few times before flicking it over. “I’ll come up with the best plan ever.”
“You always do,” Namjoon said.
“This year,” Taehyung said as he stood up, his robe flung behind him as he put his hands on his hips, “I’ll win rush so bad, Stoker will be rushing home to their mommies.”
“Yep,” Namjoon nodded.
“Yeah,” Taehyung said as he went back to the window and stared out at his arch nemesis. “I’m coming for you. Just you wait, Kim Seokjin. I’ll get you this time.”
Getting to the bottom of it would have meant starting at the beginning, and that would be just a bit too much. He was a bit too long. Turning to go and get dressed, Taehyung whistled as he went, the start of the world’s most masterful of plans about to unfold.
To begin—
Six AM, wake up and run.
Start from his dorm in the east and run down the street past the two fraternity houses. Carry on to the north and then south and west until the circle of the university is done. Make a protein shake while standing by the window catching his breath. In the winter, his cheeks bloomed as he warmed his lungs up. Plug in the illegal burner and wake his roommate up to the smell of bacon or eggs or both and give him a plate while his eyes were still half-shut. Shower and get dressed and take a picture to post in the dingy standing mirror in the corner. Then sling his camera over his shoulder before heading out knowing he wouldn’t see his roommate until the next morning. Stop by the coffee shop to get two coffees and get to class early. Always early.
He was swiveling in his chair a little, balancing a pen on his finger, the beanie on his head only showing the ends of his hair. He was thinking of the class project and of a video and of what to eat for lunch later when the door open and someone staggered in. Smiling with his lips pressed together, Jungkook watched his friend struggle up the steps.
“Ran into one of those tour groups this morning,” the guy said as he took off his jacket, his high ponytail only slightly askew. “And you wouldn’t believe what one of the kids asked me.”
“Oh no,” Jungkook tried not to laugh. “How’d he know?”
“Had my nametag still on like an idiot. I really need to leave that pancake place. But the food’s so good,” the guy said as he sat down with a small sigh. “Sometimes I wish my parents had named me something else. Do I look like a Gray?”
“Any half-respecting literature major would have asked you the same thing, Dorian,” Jungkook teased before sitting up straight and tapping his pen against his leg. The guy always did look a little gray, but working night shifts and running on caffeine alone would do that.
“Or just an asshole,” Dorian said, his lips slowly rising as he reached out for the cup in front of him. “You know, you don’t have to do this.”
“It’s no problem,” Jungkook shrugged as he looked down at the empty screen where the professor would start to show them pictures soon. He left the guy to wake up which gave him an opportunity to steal some glances at the tattoos on the arm that was always next to Jungkook. He was thinking about how Dorian had said,
“Take a picture, it will last longer,” a few days ago. It had left Jungkook blushing, but he was thinking about the project. About what to shoot in black and white.
“What’s the video plan for today?” Dorian finally asked over the plastic lid.
“Oh—not sure yet. Maybe about the project. Food? My bike? Why, would you watch?”
“No,” Dorian shook his head with a laugh. “I promise. No offense.”
“All good,” Jungkook said, actually relieved. He wasn’t anyone famous, but enough people had figured out in his freshman year that he was GoldenCloset on the internet. The account covered his games he streamed and his random videos ranting about school. He was known for doing how-to’s with makeup and with fixing up his motorcycle. And plenty of people followed him because of his outfit of the day or just to watch him eat. It had gone from weird to a bit co-dependent, so Jungkook tried to keep things professional and not let it all go to his head. When he had met Dorian, he tensed as he always did, a bit afraid he wanted to talk to him because people seemed to think that would bring them friends or money or success somehow, but Dorian had assured him he didn’t.
“I’m a bit too old fashioned and not a fan of all that tiktok stuff. No offense.”
“None taken,” Jungkook had assured him, and they had hit it off quickly discussing cameras. Jungkook had used a digital one for ages. Editing was one of his favorite parts of the whole process. Using a manual one was brave to him, and the way Dorian could just point and shoot and come up with something amazing still blew his mind. One day he would get to visit the darkroom. Dorian promised the next time he got to use it, Jungkook could come.
“The second you don’t have any viewers, just text me. I’ll get on,” Dorian said like he always did. “Or if anyone’s being weird.”
“I will. But don’t worry,” Jungkook started to swivel again. He definitely had, at one point. He still did. The haters and the trolls and the weirdos, for sure. But he was more confident with blocking people now, and he had, well, he hated to call them fans, because that seemed weird, but he had loyal viewers who would jump to his defense. They tended to see things before he did if he saw them at all.
“What, that SugarBat dude?”
“What?” Jungkook blinked.
“Is that who you’re thinking about?”
“What, no, what?”
“Oh, come on, it’s how I know I have no chance,” Dorian laughed. “You’re always thinking about your hero.”
“He’s not—he just doesn’t take crap from people.”
“It’s him or, what was it? Betterthan? What an asshole.”
“BetterThanBS,” Jungkook corrected him with a small pout. “But, no, he doesn’t comment as much. I think he’s too smart to. Most people are just looking for—wait, what did you say about you?”
“When?”
“You said,” Jungkook said as he pointed his pen at the dude. “You said—what do you mean you have no chance?”
“With you,” Dorian said back, a whisp of hair falling out of its tie and tickling his cheek and neck enough for him to brush it back behind his ear.
“What do you mean, with you?”
“Oh, come on, Jungkook, I’ve been flirting with you for over a month,” Dorian said as he leaned back in his chair and crossed his arms, the crucifix tattoo surrounded by these purple flowers that always reminded Jungkook of dandelions. “Or—oh my god, have you not? You’re just—you’re just a nice person. You’d get coffee for anyone. Oh my god, I’m so sorry—”
“No, wait,” Jungkook reached out, his fingers retracting before they could touch the guy’s arm. “No, I—I’m bad at this.”
“You’re young. Not that, sorry, no offense, I didn’t mean it like that. You’re just—are you into guys?”
“Yeah,” Jungkook whispered softly before clearing his throat. “Yeah, I’ve done a couple videos on it.”
“Oh? Should I watch them?”
“No. No, really, it’s okay. They’re just me—whining, mostly. About being single.”
“I see,” Dorian hummed, his eyes darting down to the door as a couple of students came in. “Well, how about this. If you want to just keep bringing me coffee and casually flirting with me, that’s fine. But if you want anything more—come get a drink with me.”
“I can’t. I’m not old enough.”
“Shit, right. Okay, a non-alcoholic drink. I know this chill place. Or something you want to do. I’d invite you to mine, but my roommates are—” Dorian stared off into space for a second before shaking his head. “They’re not super cool with guests, that’s all. No offense.”
“Yeah,” Jungkook said. “And mine is—well, hardly ever there, but it’s just a little dorm room. We could go out to eat?”
“Ah, I’m not big on—sorry, I’m not big on food.” Jungkook looked at the guy’s tattooed arm and then the vein almost popping out of his neck and then his entire frame, his eyebrow raising as Dorian started to laugh. “You look like my sister! Look, I’m sorry I got the family gene of never gaining or losing a pound since I was sixteen! Don’t look at me like that.” Shaking his head as the room started to fill up, Jungkook gave Dorian a side eye before biting his lip for a second.
“Alright, drinks. I’ll eat before I come.”
“And I won’t,” Dorian grinned. “Friday? Unless you’re busy.”
“I’m not. I can do Friday.”
“You’re not in a frat, right?”
“Huh?”
“Oh, rush starts soon, so I just wondered. Will you go for one?”
“Probably not,” Jungkook shrugged as he pulled his beanie off and shook his hair out.
“No? Not even Stoker or Wordsworth?”
“Why would I?” Jungkook furrowed his brows.
“You’re on that campus, right? Just wondering. Sorry, no offense meant.”
“All good. Just don’t think that’s the life for me,” Jungkook shrugged, their conversation paused as the professor came in. It begun as it always did, and the Monday continued as they normally did.
Jungkook went to his other classes and came home to an empty dorm room. He thought for a while before doing a simple video of just talking while he ate, his beanie back on and pushed back a bit as he adjusted his lights while his ramen cooked.
“Have some questions for you all today and maybe an announcement? But I don’t want to spoil it or set myself or you up for expectations, you know? It would suck if it didn’t work out,” Jungkook said as he sat down to get settled. “But first question, so leave your comments for sure, is—do you have any friends who are picky eaters? I don’t even know if picky is the right word. And I’m not talking about eating disorders, so let’s be careful. Just—they don’t have to eat a lot. Crazy metabolisms or something. If you do, what do they like to eat? I know this is a bit vague, I just—know a friend. Anyway, second question, to rush or not to rush? I’ve honestly not even considered it before,” Jungkook said before rambling a little about the pros and cons he had heard the whole system. He paused occasionally to look at comments while slurping his noodles, and his nose scrunched a little as he leaned in when he saw two familiar names.
Sugarbat: you should rush. Join my house
BetterthanBS: ours would be better
Sugarbat: **** off. You wanna talk about BS? You’re BS
BetterthanBS: wow, yes, a really great comeback. Let me list the reasons why our house would be better:
Sugarbat: 1. It smells like farts 24/7
Sugarbat: 2. You can wear everyone’s underwear
BetterthanBS: if you really think this is going to convince him
BetterthanBS: you’ve been in the dark for too long
Sugarbat: oh, let’s not get metaphysical
BetterthanBS: I mean literally, you stupid bat
BetterthanBS: also, it’s metaPHORICAL
Sugarbat: no stupid here, only sweet
“Alright, you guys,” Jungkook laughed a bit nervously. “Maybe this is one reason I don’t want to join. It all seems very competitive. And you know me—I’m very competitive. It might get a bit toxic, that’s all. Well, we’ll see. I think I’ll game some before I work out. Last question is about my class project! I have to do something black and white, and I’m thinking tattoos, but if anyone has a cooler idea, let me know!”
Sugarbat: bats. I know a guy
BetterthanBS: if you want rabies
Sugarbat: and if you want to be bored out of your mind, go with BS
BetterthanBS: for the last time, the BS stands for you
Sugarbat: that’d be SB, stupid
BetterthanBS: only smart people get it
Sugarbat: get how to spell? Guess I’m smart, then
“So that’s that!” Jungkook said a bit loudly as if he could really hear the two bickering. “Have a good meal everyone, and stay warm! I’ll do another video before the weekend. And then I’ll update you about—the thing I mentioned. If it goes well. Or, no, either way, probably,” Jungkook laughed a little nervously before waving goodbye.
He didn’t play his best that night, but it started out well. He just kept thinking about his date. He had a date. Nineteen, and finally. A date.
And then, to end, he started with how the day begun.
Move, sweat, breathe, the gym always a bit too crowded but not nearly as bad as the spring and summer.
That was the way Jeon Jungkook’s start to irregular days began.
Since he usually only posted one outfit post a day, his followers were already commenting up a storm when he posted what he had on for his Friday night outfit, though the reason was left out of his post. That morning he had jogged as always, his regular route only slowing slightly when he went past the two fraternity houses on his campus.
He had gotten used to them and had stopped batting an eye when he saw weird objects in the yard or signs hanging from balconies. That morning’s bright red “I’m with stupid” clearly constructed on butcher paper and perhaps written with someone’s hands instead of an actual paintbrush it was so messy did make him stop for a second. With his breath gathering in front of him, he lifted his legs while looking at the beaten down house. He followed the arrow to the house next door where what looked like a black mummy was hanging from the porch’s roof. A sign was stuck into its head with a giant wooden stake that read “STOOPID” in the same red paint. Shaking his head before jogging away, he wondered how long the guys would take to notice it. And what they would do.
He remembered last semester coming by one morning to find a maze had been constructed in front of the Stoker house made out of hay blocks. Another time long strings from Wordsworth house went all the way to the sidewalk with signs attached that said, “Pull me.” Of course Jungkook had to pull one, his shoulders shaking when he heard what sounded like a balloon popping and a scream coming from inside the house. He hadn’t stuck around to see what he had done but high tailed it out of there ASAP. The school paper had even hired him to take pictures of the houses during the last rush as they really seemed to go all out.
Jungkook remembered something about turning the school’s fountain red and some poor freshman getting in trouble for it. And that, the fear of getting into trouble, was probably the main reason he hadn’t joined a fraternity yet. Convincing his parents he could ride a motorcycle safely without any connections to a gang had been hard enough. He was a good kid.
Which was maybe one reason why he also hadn’t dated anyone yet. He didn’t want to make trouble. He knew it would upset a lot of his followers, too, if he announced a boyfriend or girlfriend. But he couldn’t live his life by his parents’ rules alone. Or by random people’s.
So he was excited. Nervous. If it didn’t start with butterflies, that probably would’ve been a bad sign.
Stopping the hum of his bike, he fidgeted with the silver chain around his neck a few times before stepping into the bar. Fumbling a bit at the door when asked for his ID, he only frowned slightly at the giant M marked on his hand before he looked around. Dim and a bit too hazy like they were trying too hard to be edgy, the place was probably like any other bar. The bartender eyed him heavily, so Jungkook was relieved when he saw Dorian wave him over.
“Wow,” the guy said as he stood up to greet him.
“Uh, no, you,” Jungkook said, feeling a bit underdressed even if he had put on slacks instead of jeans and thrown a blazer over his plain black t-shirt. In contract, Dorian wore a super low silk shirt with a maroon corduroy jacket, and Jungkook was reminded once again of how fucking cool the guy was.
“Sit, sit,” Dorian said with the slightest touch to Jungkook’s waist as he directed him toward a booth. “What do you want to drink? Something virgin? Or just a soda? Maybe a bloody Mary.”
“I don’t know what that is,” Jungkook said, a bit embarrassed as he sat down.
“Really? Oh, no offense, I thought you might have gone out at least some.”
“I really don’t,” Jungkook shrugged. “If you think I’ll like it. As long as there’s, uh, no blood in it.”
“As if,” Dorian laughed before he sauntered off. The drink was apparently tomato juice with celery in it, so absolutely disgusting, but Jungkook sipped it politely when Dorian brought it back. “They’re mostly used for hangovers, to be honest,” Dorian said as he seemed to enjoy his much more than Jungkook was. “But this place is known for them. So.”
“So,” Jungkook said. He had sat by the guy for over three weeks now, but those swiveling chairs had kept some distance between them. Now, Dorian’s arm settled on the booth behind him and his leg pushed against Jungkook’s. It wasn’t nearly as hot as Jungkook thought it was going to be. Temperature wise. Since bodies had a lot of body heat. It was hot. He heard his brain do a little funny noise garbled noise like when his camera lens whirred.
Oh, Jungkook liked girls enough. They were soft. And really pretty.
But boys.
Sometimes he just couldn’t stop thinking about boys.
“Is this silver?” Dorian said, the place thankfully not blaring music so they didn’t have to yell at each other. His fingers came right up to Jungkook’s neck and ran down to the end of his necklace. He picked it up just a little to examine.
“Oh. Yeah.”
“No offense, but I’m not a fan. I mean, on me,” Dorian said as he dropped it, the slightly chill metal falling lightly against Jungkook’s chest. “Looks good on you.”
“Thanks,” Jungkook swallowed as he looked around the place a little. “So, you come here often?”
“Well, isn’t that the oldest pickup line in the book,” Dorian laughed. “But yeah, I do. At least once a week. I’m not an alcoholic, though! Promise. Just—the atmosphere really fills me up.”
“Fills you up?”
“You get it, right? As a creative. You just need—” Dorian took a deep breath as he followed Jungkook’s gaze around the place. There were two people who seemed to know each other at the bar, but otherwise it was pretty empty. It was barely ten. “I get inspired here.”
“Yeah?”
“Yeah, though it’s nothing like how you do.”
“I inspire you?”
“Yeah,” Dorian said before he raised a finger. “Please don’t say a thing about that damn book.”
“I wouldn’t, I swear,” Jungkook laughed, his giggle melting when he felt Dorian’s fingers run from his shoulder up to his neck.
“I don’t want to freak you out. You’ve never been with anyone, right? I just—you’re really fucking hot. Adorable, too. I just haven’t stopped thinking about you since I first saw you. Does that make me a creep?”
“N-no, I don’t think so,” Jungkook’s heart pounded as he twisted toward the guy and dared to put a hand on his thigh. Dorian eyed it before looking up slowly, his eyes seeming to linger on Jungkook’s earrings long enough for Jungkook to withdraw his hand and put his fingers around them. “Are they too much? I want to get more some day, but I don’t know. Plus, they’re expensive.”
“They’re gorgeous,” Dorian assured him, his hand moving Jungkook’s away. He didn’t quite drop his hand, but his grip was loose as he put his palm against the center of Jungkook’s chest. “You’re gorgeous. Really. May I?”
“Oh. Sure,” Jungkook swallowed, his hand falling limply back to the guy’s thigh. He wasn’t really quite sure what he was saying yes to, but he had a general idea. At least about what they would start with. Beyond—he wasn’t sure. Where it would end—he had no idea.
How could he have known?
Jungkook didn’t even think about the bartender or even the other patrons in the bar.
Dorian’s fingers were slightly cold. He supposed he knew that, with the amount of times Jungkook had passed him a coffee over and shivered a little when their fingers touched. They sent goosebumps down his arms. Dorian’s fingers held onto his neck and tilted his head, and the first kiss against Jungkook’s skin right above his necklace was so tender. So soft. Jungkook heard himself suck in a breath before apologizing with a whisper. Dorain grinned against his neck. Jungkook could feel his lips.
“Don’t even worry about it. Make whatever sound you want,” Dorian whispered into his ear. Jungkook’s fingers tightened a little on the guy’s thigh. His heart was racing faster than his first solo bike ride. All he could think about was how his breath smelled like tomato and celery, and there was nothing about to be sexy about this kiss.
Dorain kissed his neck again, though. A little harder this time, and Jungkook thought of hickies. Of what his followers would say if he wore a turtleneck or a scarf indoors. He thought about how he didn’t give a fuck, though. Because he was thrilled to get one.
He felt just the brush of Dorian’s teeth against his skin, just their hardness compared to his soft lips. He felt the man’s fingers tighten on his neck, so Jungkook tightened his right back, and with a loud gasp no one in the bar heard, Jungkook’s eyes went wide as he felt something sharp against his skin.
“Wha—” he sputtered out, but Dorian’s knee was suddenly in his lap like a seatbelt, and Jungkook heard the table rattle as the guy climbed into his lap, his lips, no, his teeth not letting go.
Jungkook had wiped out once on his bike. Before it had a motor. His skin had scraped against the concrete and burned. He had heard it tearing as he skid to a stop. That pain was nothing like this, though. He had broken a bone once, too, when filming. He wasn’t watching where he was going, and he stepped back right off a small cliff. The snap of his arm hadn’t even sounded as bad as the camera shattering. But that pain had been nothing like this, either.
This was a puncture. A stab. Two of them. Searing and sudden but not over in a second. The pain did stop. Jungkook felt his body panic and then stutter, like it didn’t quite know what to do. The shock. He was in shock. That was why he didn’t feel any pain. But he could feel it. Dorian had bit him. There was blood running down Jungkook’s throat. His eyes were so wide when Dorian pulled away, his tongue licking up all the red around his lips that had nothing to do with tomato juice.
“Who else wants a taste?” Dorian said, his eyes shining. Jungkook’s were. He knew they were, because he felt the prickles of tears collecting there. He opened his mouth to tell Dorian to stop. To shout. Curse. Jungkook was a fighter, so being polite be damned. But all that happened was his heart racing harder when he saw the two people at the bar walking up to their table.
“Let me get another bite, then you two can have some,” Dorian said. So casually. Like this was normal. Like this is simply how he ended his day. “Where’s Jasper? Is he not coming tonight?”
“Who cares. He’s not at the table to eat, so he doesn’t get any,” one of the guys said. Jungkook tried to shudder, tried to shiver, tried to do anything as Dorian leaned in and pressed his lips against his gently.
“Oh, I knew you’d be so good. So sweet. You’re going to fill me right up.” The teeth were back. Jungkook heard them more than felt them sink back into his skin.
He tried to think. Of his bike parked outside. Of that day the professor had taken attendance and Dorian had “not been on the list yet due to some paperwork issues.” Of all the things his mother had warned him about growing up. Of stories. Of how long it might take before his roommate noticed. Of his project. Of his runs. Of everything. Of anything.
But all he could do was close his eyes. He couldn’t even stop the tears sliding down his face.
It started with Dorian biting his neck.
Jungkook had no idea where it ended.
But the last day of Jeon Jungkook started as it always had, with a jog around campus. And it ended as no normal day ever did, with his blood being drained out of him.
AN: Thoughts so far?? I PROMISE JK WILL BE OKAY!!! I'm @ 54daysormore everywhere!
[I decided to not post each chapter here because they are pretty long and I don’t wanna annoy the mobile users ksksks. I’d be happy if you’d give it a try!]
genre: slow burn friends to lovers, crack, fluff
pairing: jungkook x reader
streamer and youtuber jungkook gets wrapped into a deal with fellow youtuber and influencer junhee to fake date and collab regularly to boost each other’s follower count.
but what happens when jungkook begins to catch feelings for you, another youtube streamer?
genre: slow burn friends to lovers, crack, fluff
pairing: jungkook x reader
streamer and youtuber jungkook gets wrapped into a deal with fellow youtuber and influencer junhee to fake date and collab regularly to boost each other’s follower count.
but what happens when jungkook begins to catch feelings for you, another youtube streamer?
a/n: hello! i haven’t posted on tumblr in a long time. i decided to start making this gamer jungkook au as a hobby to keep my creative mind working but without the pressures of strict deadlines. i don’t have a schedule for updating this fic, so i may update infrequently or all at once i’m not really sure yet sorry :( if you would like to be in the taglist, please feel free to message me and i’ll add you! xx
streamer and youtuber jungkook gets wrapped into a deal with fellow youtuber and influencer junhee to fake date and collab regularly to boost each other’s follower count.
but what happens when jungkook begins to catch feelings for you, another youtube streamer?
a/n: uhhh i kind of forgot this au existed so im sorry for the slow updates :( i’ll do my best to keep going!!
let me know if you’d like to be added to the taglist, and let’s be mutuals on twitter if you have one! i’m @.versacekoo on twitter :)
streamer and youtuber jungkook gets wrapped into a deal with fellow youtuber and influencer junhee to fake date and collab regularly to boost each other’s follower count.
but what happens when jungkook begins to catch feelings for you, another youtube streamer?
a/n: ahhh im so excited to finally dive into the story part of this au!! jungkook is a certified Soft Boy and im excited to continue developing his character :) let me know what you all think of dad!tae, minwoo, and jin! i’m still a little stumped on how i would like hobi’s character to be in this au but i’m sure his personality will naturally develop hehe.
let me know if you’d like to be added to the taglist, and let’s be mutuals on twitter if you have one! i’m versacekoo on twitter :)
