Hyejoo For The Win.

hyejoo for the win.

oh man. these parents are hilariously dramatic with all their parental angst. they are kids themselves and then all of a sudden, horny kicks in and they realise well this could be advantageous.

idiots. but they make the best kind of parents. hyejoo is so loved and cherished, but more than that, her presence is enjoyed.

i can very clearly see namjoon making flash cards in all of joo’s favourite colors and plowers!!

mommy here is so sweet and so in love with her child she couldn’t see anything else.

jimin, hope you’ve left your wife and kid plenty of good memories. namjoon is planning an all boys trip to the seaside. just you and him. fun.

this was so cute, then hot, then characteristically funny. namjoon as a big soft husband is always a delight but him being a big soft and dumb girl dad is even more hilarious. x

new parent syndrome

— kim namjoon x (f) reader

SUMMARY You love Namjoon, honest. But you love your daughter Hyejoo even more— it’s not a controversial sentiment when you know he’s the same way! —and going back to a regular adult life sans kids absolutely sucks. (Or so you thought.) WARNINGS dilf!joon, dreamy husband joon, loving parents au, jimin is also a dad, bathtub sexy times, exhibitionism 😳 kinda sorta, tiny praise kink, joon calls her wifey TT, fingering, cunninglingus, doggy style, it’s kinda cheesy n romantic /.\, unprotected sex, …. impreg kink RATINGS m (18+) WC 9.5k 

NOTES writing parent fics is harder than i thought :/ i had this idea last week n was like yes, lets write this fic that absolutely no one asked for… except me! <3 so here we are, fantasizing about dreamy dad joon…. as always i have to thank rumu ( @kigurumu​ ) who is kind enough to edit these n b like that don’t make no sense -_- anyway lemme know what u think !! enjoy !!

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ik I read tomb raider au, colour me fucking surprised this is a whole extended universe of its own.

so many have said this already. BUT LORREEEEEE!

it’s so fucjing sexy of you, sailor! the intricate details you’ve stuffed this one with. i was F E D!! it was such a huge satisfying treat I will be burping for days.

jk and indy. that’s another duo i am now in love with. i can’t conjure enjoys words to express how adorable they are. there was such gentleness and purity in their friendship. he is so supportive of her she is so accepting of him.

their kitchen moments both before and after nightshade are my top faves. both moments are bridled with lingering uncertainty and anxious confessions, first from her then him. it was truly a master level of planning from you. the narration and buildup had me gripped.

it’s bc of your vamp jk warning is unintentionally suspenseful that the reveal is so much sweeter. having expected that he would turn eventually I was here for pure vibes but my ass fell out of the chair with that reveal too.

look, shit was shady when you made indu be suspicious of drinks and the atmosphere and with how our big bad arrived to the scene… i was preparing for major heartbreak moment but i was devastated with the way things panned out. the horror on jk’s face was truly gut wrenching bc not for one moment did he expect to be susceptible to an attack, he was fully focused on getting his bestie out safe and sound!

their love!!! bc she’s absolutely destroyed at that. many props to her though bc she attempted to assault an ancient monster! the fucjing guys of steel this woman has!

again, their love. it’s special and it’s wonderful and I very much enjoyed it. I will forever envy their devotion!

Bite Me, Jeon | JJK | (m)

☾ Pairing: vampire/ college student! Jungkook x college student! female reader

☾ Summary: Somehow you convince Jeon Jungkook to look into theories of vampirism for a research paper. What Jungkook doesn’t expect, is for vampirism to become a very real and very personal problem for him.

☾ Word Count: 19,376

☾ Genre: Friends to lovers, supernatural, a hint of angst

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

☾ Warnings: Some angst, Taehyung is kinda an ass, blood play (Jungkook is a vampire, guys), ridiculous science and historical accounts that I MADE UP (I am not a scientist!!!), mentions of diseases, explicit language, verbal threats, turning someone into a vampire against their will, depictions of blood, biting, conspiracy theories, recreational drinking, mentions of recreational drug use in the past (briefly), a little bit of pining, sexually explicit content including: oral (f. and m. receiving, m. briefly receives) spitting, blood play and biting, spitting, sub-space themes post orgasm, fingering, nipple play, unprotected sex (pls practice safe sex guys). I think I got everything - pls tell me if I missed something.

☾ Published: May 7, 2022

☾ A/N: HAPPY HALFWAY TO HALLOWEEN EVERYONE AKA HALFWAY TO MY FAVORITE DAY OF THE YEAR. It's here! This took me absolutely forever to write because I wrote it in so many pieces. It is WAY longer than I anticipated, but as I've always said: I find it nearly impossible to write PWP because I live for plot and world building. This is the beloved sibling to Don't Read Dead Languages, the other installment of my Halfway to Halloween celly (est. post date is tomorrow) And yes - I did create characters in here with the intention of doing their stories for Halloween this year :) Please enjoy.Please keep in mind that I am not a scientist and a historian and I took A LOT of liberties with mythology and historical accounts to make my own plot. While I mention real diseases and historical figures, I quite literally made this up. It's not accurate. Pls don't come for my scientist brain because it doesn't exist.

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

Masterlist | Ask |

The lights in your corner of the library are dim and flickering. The air is cold and damp- though that is common for the old part of the library where your group huddles. As the least favorite academic club in your school’s college of history and humanities, the table assignments in the warmer and brighter side of the library are rarely ever given to you.

The creepy table for the creeps, the student-run desk attendants usually murmur when you arrive first to check in for your allotted study time. 

You’ve requested the higher tech rooms over fifty times, but it’s the same response every time: Are you even a real academic club? Leave the digital screens and resources to the STEM majors. 

So Old Stacks it was. It had earned that name when the library was extended to above ground with three more floors. The subterranean parts were now reserved for the original study rooms and table areas that had gone years without updating. Most of the shelving is in disarray, containing old volumes of books no longer referenced. 

Most people dread the Old Stacks. You don’t mind them. There is a comfort in knowing you will be left alone among the silence and the flickering lights. Plus, you know how to accommodate for its quirks now. You always pack sweaters, always bring snacks since the vending machines are a mile away, and you bring a portable desk light. 

Making things work is mostly what your group does. Well- making things real is the focus. 

Sure, your Science and History of the Supernatural club was originally been created as an ode to the long-running television show Supernatural, but it has since developed into something legit, with academics studying the mysteries of the world and working to apply levels of historical research and scientific methods to prove and disprove a number of creatures, stories and legends. 

It's nerd shit, as Jungkook calls it. You don’t even want to get into the argument of what you define as a nerd with him. He has enough anime posters on his apartment walls and spends every cent he earns streaming toward his ridiculously flashy gaming setup. 

Nerd shit. 

Despite him making fun of your group, Jungkook sometimes comes to meetings. Even if it’s because you needed a sixth person to be considered a legitimate academic club. Even if it it’s because you offered to do his laundry every Saturday for a single semester as a bribe to keep the club going. 

Pulling your cardigan closer, you scroll through your tablet with the proposal you carefully put together for review. It’s for your final research paper in your folklore class- an elective you didn’t need to graduate, but an important elective toward your desired dream job of working for a private curation company in charge of recovering, investigating and selling ancient artifacts. Kim Namjoon, a professor who participated in the very group you now led, had given you some tips on what you needed to apply to the prestigious position. 

The subject of your final project is courageous. It leans heavily on a lot of pseudoscience and genuine historical events and documents. You know it doesn’t necessarily matter if the experiment itself yields a factual result. You’re not a scientist, but even a negative result is something worth noting in your paper. 

Jungkook is the first to arrive at the library. He’s got a paper bag shoved under his arms, the first signs of grease ruining the paper on the edges. You can smell the fries immediately, groaning as he sets up next to you with an evil grin. 

“Got your favorite,” he announces in a sing-song voice. 

You hate the way he spoils you with food. Jungkook’s habits at the gym and generally maintaining a healthy lifestyle help him to look… well perfect. Small waist, broad shoulders and thick biceps with a heartbreaking face made to love. 

Not thinking about how lovely his face was had become a favorite pastime of yours. 

“You’re going to make me gain weight,” you growl, snatching the back from him to find seasoned fries inside. You indulge, humming as you bite into the greasy goodness. “This isn’t fair, Jeon.”

“Who cares if you do?” Jungkook kicks his feet up on the table, ignoring you as you try to shove them off. Even if you’re in the worst part of the Old Stacks, you feel the urge to be respectful. “You’re pretty regardless, Indy.”

You smirk at the nickname. He was constantly calling you Indiana Jones and Indy for short. You wished you were as cool, but you’ll never tell him that. “Tell that to my long line of non-existent suitors. And get your feet off the table.”

Jungkook rolls his eyes but moves his feet, much to your pleasure.

Your club members file in one at a time, a mix of science majors and history majors. Jungkook is the only one out of his depth, but he usually enjoys the meetings. He doesn’t always say so, but you find open articles on his computer when he thinks you’re not looking about banshees and werewolves on occasion.

Hoseok opens a bag of chips, his notebooks perfectly placed as he leans on his elbows eagerly. “You’re running your folklore project by us today, right? I’ve been dying to see what you came up with.”  

“Why?” Mari asks, flipping through a textbook with an unimpressed pout. You try to fight the urge to lean over and bop her directly on the fucking head. “It’s just another project.”

Mari will never outright say she doesn’t like you. In general, you suppose she’s nice enough. She’s let you borrow a resource or two and she’ll peer review your work if Hoseok or Elena aren’t available. But she always makes sure to downplay your successes, and there is an undercurrent of something aggressive whenever she directs comments and questions your way.

Jungkook hates Mari. You notice the way he glares over the top of his computer screen at her now, his pout tilting downward and his eyes boring holes in her forehead. She doesn’t seem to notice. Even if she did, any reaction she can draw out of Jungkook is one she enjoys. From the moment Jungkook joined your club to save it, she has never passed a moment to thank him again and again for joining.

It's a topic that is hotly debated between you and Jungkook. He doesn’t think anyone is interested in him. He knows he’s a nerd by definition. He speaks in anime jokes and he doesn’t come out of his room on the weekends when he’s deep into and Overwatch binge. And no matter how many times you tell him, Jungkook has no idea how cute he is.

“Because,” Hoseok shoots back pointedly at Mari. “She’s also submitting this paper to Namjoon who is passing it to his boss at his very secretive artifact agency. It’s important.”

“Namjoon,” Mari sighs, putting her hand over her heart. “We will never have a president of this club like him.”

Jungkook looks at her pointedly. “I think ours is just fine.”

You shoot him a grateful look, ignoring the way Mari scrambles to correct herself and assure you that it wasn’t meant to be offensive. Especially when it definitely was.

Jimin is the last to show up, murmuring apologies as he tosses his things on the table. He looks effortlessly beautiful as always, pink hair styled back and subtle designer clothing hanging perfectly on his frame. Jimin is the type of beautiful that you envy- not because he gets attention, but because he is otherworldly.

“Project time, project time!” Jimin chants, clapping his hands together. He’s an English Literature major with a keen interest in folklore and mythology. You were pretty sure he kept a copy of The Iliad on him at all times. “I’m so excited to see what you’ve got.”

The group settles in and turn their eyes to you as you flip your iPad around. The topic is incredibly out there- even for you- and your palms get sweaty as you sift through your notes and cited sources regarding the topic.

“Okay don’t laugh,” you say seriously, levelling all of them with a glare. “And remember that the actual result doesn’t matter as much as the research and documentation process.”

“Spit it out,” Jimin whines.

So you do.

Flipping through the iPad, you launch into an incredibly lengthy and thorough relationship between the history of the legend of vampires through various time periods, starting the research specifically with the rumors and lack of historical data surrounding Vlad the Impaler, ruler of Walachia, Romania.

At first, the group seems unsure. You can sense their uneasiness on the topic, but you push forward, pulling out historical accounts and journals during the Middle Ages during years when the plague burned through European countries, cross-referencing it with the uptick in supposed vampire sightings and rumors.

The interesting part of your research surrounds a disease known as Porphyria, which was detected in the middle ages during a spike in the plague. There were several variations of the disease, resulting in skin blistering when exposed to sunlight.

“Okay so you get a sunburn with pory-whatever?” Jimin asks.

You glare. “Your skin literally blisters, but let me finish. They did studies on people who got the disease and discovered that ingesting blood relieved most if not all of the symptoms related to those who had it. Furthermore, people who ingested the blood of those with porphyria immediately displayed symptoms.”

“What does this have to do with vampirism?” Mari sighed.

“Though it’s implied in most of these medical documents that it can be passed through family members, look at this specifically family tree I pulled with one of the first patients who underwent testing.”

Jungkook took the sheet of paper from you, pouting his lip and furrowing his brow as he read. You chewed nervously on the inside of your cheek as he scanned the tree and tilted his head. “Wilhelmina Dracia- an ancestor of Vlad the Impaler.”

“Exactly, Jeon!” you announce. “So it got me thinking. There were other undocumented diseases during the plague. Even now, there were small towns marked as killed by the plague but they had no evidence that they actually suffered deaths from the plague. Do you know what the neighboring towns were suspected to have?”

“Porphyria?” Jungkook asked, glancing upward. “Do you think porphyria is vampirism?”

“I think it’s a strain of vampirism.”

“Just a strain?” Hoseok asks, taking one of the papers from your notes. You’re thrilled they’re asking questions and hand him two other family trees. “Wait- I though Anne Rice’s novel was total fiction? Lestat was a real person?”

“I think he was based on a real person. Loren de Lion was a real person born in a farming village outside of Paris.” You tap the top of his family tree. “What name do you see there?”

“Mihai Dracal.” Hoseok holds out his hand to Jungkook for Wilhelmina’s family tree and looks back and forth between them. “No way. They share an ancestor. So why isn’t Loren on this family tree?”

“He produced no heirs. This is where I began wondering about strains. Look at these journal entries from Loren de Lion in Paris and then compare it to these entries by Laure de Lions in New Orleans during the 1900s.”

“I remember this,” Hoseok reads from the newer entry. “It is all so familiar. I fear I am not alone in my dear city of New Orleans. I must flee, for there is no stronger breed of sickness than jiangshi. I hope to withstand this breed, but I must flee the city.”

“Breed of sickness?” It’s Mari who asks the question much to your surprise. And sort of pleasure. “Who calls sickness a breed.”

“Right?”

“Jiangshi?” Jungkook asks. “That’s an ancient story of creatures sucking the qi out of humans. It’s popular in Korean Dramas.”

Mari gestures to another family tree sitting on top of academic papers. You hand them over to her with a smirk. She’s so focused on scanning the family tree that she doesn’t notice. “This family- you associated them with Jiangshi?”

“Yes. In fact, they have a son who recently graduated from here. He owns a popular night club in the next city over.”

“Wait…” Jimin mutters, looking up Kim Taehyung on his phone. His eyes go round and he looks up at you. “You mean he owns Nightshade? That club is not only ridiculously exclusive and membership only, but last year there was a massive story on them. One of their members was arrested for aggravated assault on his boyfriend and he claimed that he was driven to insanity by the occult practices at the club.”

You lift up the article in question. “They were going to go to trial any everything. But the Kim family is stupid rich they’re represented by Min Associates.”

“Seriously? I’ve heard that Min Associates have the best lawyers in the world. You could be caught red-handed guilty and get away with it if they’re on the case.” Mari asks, snatching the article from Jimin. “I’ve heard their son is called the Demon in the court room. No one can beat him.”

You shrug. “My point is, this guy? He was willing to talk until he wasn’t. He was sentenced to a few years and let out on good behavior. No one has heard from him since.”

“So what’s your plan?” Jungkook asks, brows furrowed as he regards you. “Please don’t tell me you plan on getting involved with Nightshade and trying to become a member to see what’s going on. Come on, Indy.”

“Jimin?” You ask and he looks up at you. “Your friend Jin is in the entertainment sector, isn’t he?”

Jimin glares. You give him a soft pout and round eyes, earning a sigh and a roll of his eyes. “I’ll see what I can do.”

-

A week after you discuss your project with your peers, Jungkook shows up at your apartment with a box full of pizza, your favorite flavor of wings, and soda. You give him a narrowed look, letting him in nonetheless as the smell of grease makes your mouth water.

Though you live alone, Jungkook has spent most of his time at your small apartment two blocks away from school to be considered a roommate.  

“To what do I owe being spoiled?” You ask skeptically as Jungkook places the items on your kitchen counter. He moves confidently, taking out plates and setting them down before grabbing cups for your drinks. It’s entirely domestic and you chew your lip watching him. “That’s a lot of wings.”

“Can’t I just want to come watch movies with my best friend?”

“Yes, but it’s Friday. And on Fridays you usually do your Mario Party stream with viewers.”

“You know my schedule?” His cheeks are tinted pink when he asks, smiling at the ground as he places food on the plates. You don’t answer- of course you know his schedule- and take the plate offered to you. “I just wanted to hangout.”

“Sus.”

Jungkook takes a bite of his pizza, chewing happily as he levels you with a look. “Maybe I want to try and talk you out of your project.” You groan and he gestures to the couch. “Come on, we don’t have to fight while we eat.”

“So we’re going to fight?”

He gives a small smirk. “Maybe. I don’t know. Not during pizza and maybe an episode of One Piece?”

You hum in doubt but join him on the couch, pulling up the extended-top of the coffee table to set your food on top. You both cross your feet and settle in as Jungkook navigates the streaming service easily, picking up where you left off.

It’s hard to remember when exactly you let him talk you into watching the entire anime series, but it seems never ending. Jungkook won’t let you watch episodes without him, but he’s good about keeping a watch-schedule. And you have to admit- you like the show.

True to his word, Jungkook doesn’t bring up your project while you eat. It doesn’t stop you from stealing glances at him from the corner of your eye, trying to figure out what about it bothers him.

Clubbing isn’t really your thing. You gave it a good run when you were a freshman, slowing a bit when you were a sophomore. You didn’t mind drinking- wine was pretty much your preference- but being out around a bunch of sweaty strangers while someone always managed to have a bad night in your group was sort of exhausting.

So you limited your nights out to few and far between, but you always managed to have fun.

Perhaps it was the mysteriousness of the club that Jungkook didn’t like. After revealing your topic of interest, you had scoured the internet together to show him what you could find on Nightshade and its members. There was a website for the club, but the only information available was that it was an exclusive night club, and that memberships were limited. There was no information to apply. There was nothing but an address, a business license, and a small blurb on the owner- Kim Taehyung.

The infamous Kim Taehyung was easier to look up. He was a wealthy businessman in the next city over and was a wealthy contributor to your school. He participated in plenty of charity work- particularly organizations that specialized in raising money for rare blood diseases and their study.

That was interesting and on brand for your paper.

Every photo you saw of the man was nothing short of stunning. Dark hair that was usually styled back, eyes that could cut through a camera lens, and a face that belonged in high fashion. He was heartbreakingly beautiful. Even Jungkook had whistled and stared for a while.

Taehyung, as stunning as he was, had private social media and there wasn’t much beyond a few articles from business and entertainment magazines who had posted how elusive the club owner was. Even the articles containing information about the lawsuit against his club were difficult to find.

A few blogs were dedicated to uncovering and guessing what exactly went on at Nightshade, but they were thus far unsuccessful. You had no idea why you thought you were going to be the one to figure it out, but you were determined.

Jungkook leaned back and sighed. You chewed on your lip, watching as he leveled his gaze at you. You shifted nervously under his stare, unable to read his expression. Your heart and stomach fluttered- for reasons completely unrelated to knowing he was going to question you.

“I think you should turn in your paper without the investigation on the end,” Jungkook said finally. “You’re not an investigative journalist. Your class is about folklore and where it intersects with history, and I think you’ve done that. You’ve combined science, popular legends and historical documents and family trees to support your guess. I think that’s enough.”

“It isn’t,” you insist, shaking your head. “It’s a competitive job. Namjoon only started working there last year after his massive discovery in Egypt. This company- it’s the private sector, which means a lot of benefits and a lot of money. It would send me all over the world and give me assignments I’d never get at a museum or as a professor.”

Jungkook rolls his eyes. “Your paper is good enough to get you in.”

“It’s not. What happens when they ask if I discovered what was at the club?”

“This is for a company that specializes in archaeology and history. They’re not Buzzfeed Unsolved.”

“It would demonstrate a lack of dedication for me not to do this.”

“How? You’re pulling from multiple types of sources and the Center for Disease Control for crying out loud! What about this fucking club is that important to a historical paper?”

“I need to know if I’m right!”

You shout it at Jungkook, making him flinch. You close your eyes and heave a sigh, running a hand over your face. You soften as you murmur, “What is the point of the paper if there isn’t an answer?”

“So that’s what it’s about. Proving you’re right. And if you’re wrong?” You shrug. “At the end of the day, this is folklore. You applied science and history, but… vampires, Indy?”

A sour feeling enters your stomach. You stand up and begin cleaning and Jungkook groans, knowing he’s upset you. You don’t care if he knows. You stomp to the kitchen, chucking the crumbs into the trash and shoving dishes into the sink. You’re cleaning and refusing to look at him as he calls your name from the couch.

You know the idea of vampires is… ridiculous. In reality, you know that your little club is laughed at. Ridiculed. No one takes is seriously. They won’t even let you rent a room in the library proper.

Your throat tightens as you fight the urge to cry. You don’t want to cry in front of Jungkook, especially over something so stupid. But being right is more than just… having put together a convoluted puzzle piece. It means your worth of a prestigious job and it means… well it means the museums you already applied to and failed to get in were wrong about you.

“Talk to me.” You flinch, not realizing Jungkook moved to the kitchen. He’s standing right behind you when you glance over your shoulder. You turn away and rub your face quickly on your shoulder, trying to hide that a tear escapes. “Fuck, I didn’t mean to make you cry.”

“I’m not crying, Jeon.”

You hear him laugh. “Okay, well I didn’t mean to make you upset.”

When you don’t answer, trying to stop the burn in your eyes and the weight of the rejections, Jungkook steps forward and wraps his arms around you, squeezeing You place your hands on his arms and squeeze back, knowing he didn’t mean to hurt your feelings.

“I’m sorry, Indy,” he whispers, his voice sincere. “I just care about you and even if we don’t find vampires, something about this place and Kim Taehyung gives me the creeps.”

“We?” You sniff, laughing slightly.

“Of course. You didn’t think you were going alone, did you?” He squeezes and places his chin on your shoulder. “Indiana Jones always had a sidekick. Sidekick Jeon Jungkook reporting for duty.”

A few minutes pass in the kitchen with Jungkook just holding you. And you let him. He’s warm and he smells floral, making you smile as he sways you back and forth a bit. You melt into him. You want to stay like that far more than you should.

Just when your nervous it’s going to get awkward, you murmur, “I didn’t get the apprenticeship at The Metropolitan or Louvre. They said that I didn’t stand out enough.”

“Oh, Indy…”

“And I don’t blame them. My projects and papers have been basic. Organized. Perfectly executed but… there is nothing special about them. Nothing special about me.”

“That isn’t true at all.”

The vehemence he states this leaves no room for argument, drawing a smile from you. He settles back on your shoulder as you murmur, “I just… want to do something different. Step out of my comfort zone, you know? I just want to be special.”

“You are to me, if that counts.”

Fuck. It counts so much more than Jungkook realizes. Every time he shows up to a club that he doesn’t have to be a part of, every time he brings you pizza, or lets you come watch him stream, or he talks you through an anime you don’t quite understand- you do feel special with Jungkook. Maybe not in the way you want most, but in a way that counts.

Jungkook sighs, pulling you from your thoughts. “Jimin said Jin can get you in, but there’s a shit ton of applications and documentation we have to do.”

You spin around. He drops his embrace, chewing the inside of his cheek as he looks down at you. Your heart skips as you grab his arms, nails digging in. “Seriously? Just like that?”

He laughs without humor. “Jin said that he can submit an application on our behalf. Not that it would get accepted and Indy… it’s pretty intense. We have to have background checks, blood tests-“

“Blood tests?”

He grimaces. “I knew you’d fixate on that.”

You ignore him. “This is perfect. It just lends itself to my paper. Who needs a blood test to get into a nightclub? There has to be something they’re looking for- maybe ensuring there’s no disease or latent vampire genes? This is great! Jungkook this is great.”

He winces but mutters, “Yeah. I guess.”

-

Jungkook exaggerates about a lot of things. For example, there was one time during Halloween where he swore that he was so drunk that he was going to die. Instead, he vomited in your Luna backpack two blocks away from your apartment, and then cried because you wouldn’t get him tacos after.

Or there was the time around Christmas where the two of you had edibles at a party, and Jungkook fucking swore he saw Santa Claus and his reindeer. You had a pretty difficult time explaining whilst high out of your mind that it was an airplane, Jungkook. The things that fly in the sky.

And of course, every world-ending time he lost a match or had a bad stream. Those were the days that the sky was falling and he was never going to recover from this financially- and he would send you the same Tiger King meme over and over again.

Those were all great examples of his usual reaction to minor things.

Jungkook was not exaggerating about the application requirements to potentially become a member at Nightshade.

While they did not require any up-front cost to the application, there was cost implied by the amount of blood work you had to get done- and sign a twelve-page legal agreement that you were consenting to provide medical history and knowledge.

Additionally, you were expected to provide STD results, which led you down a rabbit hole of wondering if Nightshade was a sex club- which, was currently in the lead for the most popular theory of what went on behind its closed doors.

And when the formal invitation and approval arrived, there was a very strict list of attire that required you to go beyond the realms of your closet.

Mari of all people was assisting you in the attire part. You generalyl dressed pretty simple. Heels weren’t a necessity when you weren’t working at a fancy museum just yet, and you never had formal events to attend since Jimin dropped out of his fraternity, calling them boring.

“I think the velvet is the way to go,” Mari says appreciatively, tapping her chin. “You have great legs, may as well show them off. And the red doesn’t totally wash you out like the green did.”

You struggle to take the compliment and look at the dress in the mirror. It’s skin tight and leaves little to the imagination, the hemline coming higher up on your thigh than you’re used to. The off the shoulders are a smooth fit, but the neckline dips dangerously to the top of your breasts.

It’s far more daring than anything you’ve worn before, but the entire night is supposed to be daring.

The plan is simple and stupid. Get inside the club, observe what’s going on, and report if there’s anything vampy. According to the nondisclosure and legal agreements you had to sign and get notarized after approval, there’s a probationary period until your inducted as a full-time member. You skipped over the levels of sponsorships, not intending on becoming a steady member of Kim Taehyung’s possible sex club.

A single night of investigative work. That’s what you’ve promised Jungkook, who is still set on going with you. He even booked a night in a hotel room in the next city over so that you don’t have to worry about rushing there and back.

You try not to think about sharing a hotel room with him alone. Because while you’ve done that in the past, it’s different now. You feel different these days.

Swallowing the lump in your throat, you turn to Mari. She’s been more interested in you as a person since presenting the paper. Though she hasn’t admitted to it, you have a sneaking suspicion she was impressed and has decided to give you a chance at being an acquaintance.

Even if she is still giving less than ideal compliments.

“You don’t think the crimson is cliché?” you ask, brushing the soft, velvet material. “I feel vampy in it.”

“You look hot.” She shrugs. “Well, if you don’t get a vampire to go all ‘I vant to suck your blood,’ you’re probably going to get laid. If not by Jungkook, maybe by some masked stranger at the sex club.”

“It’s not a sex club.” She gives you a look and you grimace. “Okay, it might be a sex club. And sex with Jungkook are you drunk? We’re best friends, Mari.”

“Yeah,” she mutters as you walk into the changing room, heart set on the dress. “Best friends who need to fuck.”

“I heard that!”

-

The red neon above the door taunts you as you walk down the sidewalk. On either side of the tinted, glass door is a security member. The one to the right of the door holds his hand out for your invitation. You hand yours over, trying to keep your hand from shaking with nervousness and excitement. Jungkook does the same, standing close behind you as they open the door to a dark hallway. 

Scarlet, crushed velvet makes up the interior of the hallway. The lights above are dimly lit chandeliers, the soft gold glow barely enough to cast light down the entire length of the hall. The line to get into the actual club starts here, hidden away from the eyes of the outside world. You realize it’s to keep member identities hidden. 

Jungkook is still close behind you, his chest almost against your back. You join the line of finely dressed patrons, sending a silent thank you to Mari for her making you choose the red dress and pair it with the sky-high heels. Jungkook sticks out in his leather jacket and ripped black pants and yet somehow when you turn to look at him, he looks right- though you’re not entirely sure about dress code.

Shadows fall over half of his face in the hall. You find yourself staring at him over your shoulder as his dark eyes scan the line, mouth fixed in what you label as his serious expression.

A lock of dark hair falls into his eyes. Instead of looking disheveled, he looks beautiful, an angel of shadow. You want to run your fingers along the recently shaved undercut. His hair was still long, but the sides were cropped short, making his choice of slick-backed hair even better.

Jungkook’s eyes drop down to you and his features smooth out into softness. “What?”

“You look so serious,” you opt to say. It would be weird if you told him you were staring at how beautiful he was. “You didn’t have to come.”

“Of course I did,” he answers, frowning. “Who else is going to protect my girl?” 

The way he says it is so casual. It means nothing to him and everything to you. You swallow the lump in your throat and nod, instead turning your attention to the pictures on the wall. Your eyes nearly fall out of your head when you realize the black-and-white photos are people caught in different throes and moments of pleasure.

You divert your eyes to instead look at the people in line.

It’s a wide variety of people, though one thing is the same: everyone has an invitation, the matte black of their cards absorbing the light in the hall. The couple in front of you is murmuring quietly to themselves. The woman is dressed in a floor-length, emerald dress made from silk, her hair twisted up in an elegant bun. Her earrings catch the light, drawing attention to her slender neck. 

Glancing down at yourself, you don’t feel nearly as well-dressed. The velvet dress clings to you like a second skin, the hemline dangerously short for you. It’s certainly a daring outfit, but with just a simple gold necklace around your neck with your birthstone- a gift from Jungkook- you start to feel out of place. 

As though he senses your uneasiness, Jungkook bends down and murmurs, “You okay?”

“Yeah. Just wish I looked a little nicer.”

The line moves forward. You’re three away from the door, heart rate kicking up. You can just barely hear the vibration of the music, though you cannot tell where it’s coming from. 

“What do you mean?” you hear the frown in Jungkook’s voice. You gesture to the woman in front of you and he scoffs. “I think you look absolutely beautiful. Hey- look at me.”

Heart skipping, you turn around and look at him. Jungkook brushes a loose strand of hair back into your French twist, eyes searching. He’s so painfully beautiful that you look at him, unblinking. “You’re always breathtaking,” Jungkook murmurs, smiling softly. “But tonight? You are devastating.” 

Jungkook has no idea the way his words affect you. Suddenly you’ve forgotten about the line and the club. It’s just you and Jungkook in a softly-lit space, and he’s watching you with those eyes and his soft smile. The one reserved only for you.

The moment breaks into pieces when the security guard asks you to move forward. In a daze, you hand him your invitation, your expensive medical results, legal forms, and two forms of ID. He runs the IDs through a scanner and thoroughly looks over the paperwork before asking you to hold out your wrist. He places a delicate, gold bracelet around your wrist with a red gemstone charm. 

“Welcome to Nightshade, Miss L/N.”

You step forward and watch as he repeats the process for Jungkook. Instead of a bracelet, he gives Jungkook a more visible lapel with the same stone. “Welcome to Nightshade, Mr. Jeon. Please ensure that your bracelet and brooch are displayed at all times. If you are warned more than once that it is not visible, you will be escorted out and your probation period will be revoked. You will wear this entry level color until a sponsor elevates your membership.” 

“Oh,” you breathe out. “Okay.”

“Sponsors are the members inside wearing mother of pearl broaches and bracelets, and are the only members who may invite you to a private room tonight. If any full-time member wearing emerald or sapphire invite you to a private room, please report them to any staff member immediately. Enjoy your night.”

The conversation is done and the line is pushing you through the curtained doorway. The stairs lead down down down. You look at Jungkook, unsure what you’ve gotten yourself into. He places his hand on your shoulder and says, “We can leave- that’s totally okay.”

“No,” you protest. “Let’s do this.” 

“Even if it’s a sex club?”

You shoot him a look as you begin a careful descent down the stairs. The further you go, the more you can feel the music humming through the ground to your ribcage. “Even if it’s a sex club.”

When another security guard opens the door to the main club, you think that maybe you’re not far off your guess. Music pulses from the middle of the dance floor where bodies twist in a writhing mass. There’s a DJ booth situated above the crowd on a catwalk, lights coalescing on the dance floor in colors you’ve never seen. 

Jungkook is attached to you as you push into the club. The air is cooler than you anticipated, a shiver working up your spine. The bar is near the door, long and carved from dark marble. Red lights are fixed beneath the bar counter, making it look as though the bartenders are gliding through a sea of red. 

A set of stairs leads upstairs to a landing where you can see private booths roped off with velvet markers. A security member stands at the foot of the stairs, letting people pass through after they display their jewelry. Some booths are curtained off while others have people lounging openly, watching the people below. 

You have no idea where to start. Jungkook nudges you on your lower back, starling you. He gives you an encouraging grin and nods toward the bar. “Let’s get drinks.”

With a nod, you let Jungkook lead the way. You’re too nervous to feel anything besides light panic when he wraps his fingers around yours, tugging you along. Your other hand clutches his elbow, securing yourself to his side as you move through the crowd. No one shoves and steps on you. Everyone is polite, parting as you navigate toward the bar. 

You’re almost dizzy with the dark space and flashing lights when a bartender appears in front of you immediately. He’s beautiful, blond hair slick back and uncanny amber eyes flicking between you two, smiling as he looks at the stones on your jewelry and shouts over the music, “Welcome first timers. You drink for free tonight, but please ensure you drink responsibly. What can I get you?” 

“An old fashioned for me,” Jungkook answers loudly. He pulls you in closer, placing you next to him with his hand appropriately placed on your back. “A vodka soda for her, please.” 

The bartender flashes a smile. “Coming right up, pretties.” 

Jungkook leans a single elbow on the bar and gazes out at the crowd. Colors splash across his golden skin, turning him red then blue then green. The music is loud, filled with bass and following a techno sound. You nod your head, looking around those at the bar. 

You don’t really know what to look for other than the cliche: bite marks on necks, hickies that look suspicious, patrons with fangs. There’s plenty of mirrors behind the bar, reflecting the bottles and club-goers back to you. Everyone appears in the mirror- no weird missing reflection. 

Everyone looks ordinary, for the most part. There are a few men and women who look so beautiful it’s painful to look at, but there’s nothing about them that screams vampire. There’s no pale, smooth skin or burning red eyes. There’s nothing that seems… supernatural at all. 

The bartender appears again with your drinks. Jungkook hands over money to tip him, but the bartender waves it off. “No tipping here. We’re paid handsomely. Enjoy your evening. My name is Emil if you need anything.” 

Emil flashes a smile. There are no fangs, but there is something about the way he glances between the two of you that sends a cool tingle down your spine. He moves away quickly, taking another order. You stare at him a second longer before you take the cold glass from the paper coaster. 

“Something about him seems… off,” you mention to Jungkook. 

Jungkook nods. “He’s very perfect looking.”

“That’s not what I meant.” Jungkook shrugs. “This feels surprisingly ordinary.”

“Come on,” Jungkook murmurs, sipping his drink and gesturing to the edge of the dancefloor. A dark alcove with a soft, blue neon sign that said private glowed next to where he was pointing. “We can observe near there.” 

It feels as if the dark hall leading to private rooms goes on forever. You glance down at it, hypnotized by the way the space seems void of light and life. You and Jungkook sip your drinks, swaying to the music lightly. You're surprised at how strong the drink is, feeling light-headed by the time you’re halfway done. 

A woman comes up and asks Jungkook to dance, glancing at you from the side of her eyes. He politely declines and she pouts before she glances at you and slinks away again. It’s hard not to smile at Jungkook as he turns his focus away from her immediately, dark eyes still searching the crowd. 

Instead of observing for your own project, you keep watching him instead. Another woman comes up to spark conversation with him- she includes you this time, welcoming you to your first night there. She asks if you need any help and you fight the urge to ask her what it’s all about, not wanting to draw too much attention to yourself. 

The woman wears a green jewel- so she is some sort of level higher than you. Perhaps she has a sponsor. She eventually asks Jungkook to join her for a drink and he politely declines again. She has the same reaction as the first, pouting lightly as she vanishes.

You can’t help but get a sick feeling in your stomach. You must be making a face, because Jungkook asks if you’re okay. “Let’s get a drink,” you respond. “I think I’m still nervous.”

And you are. But the inky feeling doesn’t go away when Jungkook is propositioned at the bar again- this time by a man. He’s beautiful with dark red hair and stunning green eyes. He wears a sapphire, glittering on an extravagant broach on the lapel of his suit. 

“You’re an exquisite pair,” the man calls, leaning further on the bar to address you. “You are the cutest thing I’ve ever seen- I could just eat you up.” 

Jungkook makes a face. The man notices and he smiles- his smile reminds you of the bartender and you prickle again, straightening. “Ah, you don’t share. What a shame. I love the dynamic you two have- the shadow to her light, the darkness to her innocence. Well, I am here most weekends if you ever change your mind and want to share.” He hands Jungkook a card. “Have a wonderful night.”

You don’t know if it’s the base or your heartbeat pounding anymore. The way the man implied Jungkook doesn’t share- share what? You? 

In a way, you are his to share. He has no idea how much you are his. The thought of him not knowing as he sips his drink makes you toss yours back. He raises his eyebrows as you order another one, making it a double. 

Jungkook came all the way here with you because he’s your friend. Your best friend. Because he never lets you suffer through things alone. And instead of doing what you’re supposed to for your project, you’re being painfully awkward and letting Jungkook’s many suitors make you jealous. 

Finishing your drink with a half-gag and a spinning head, you pull his hand. “Let’s dance.”

“We already did that.”

“No. Let’s dance.”

Jungkook doesn’t ask what you mean. He follows your lead, throwing back the whisky with a sour face. You drag him onto the dance floor. A buzz has settled into your veins and you pressed yourself between people, pulling Jungkook behind you. You’re no stranger to dancing with him, but the music is in your bloodstream, humming as you become alive.

You sway your hips, tilting your head back and closing your eyes as you let rhythm and instinct guide you. Jungkook is quick to follow. He molds himself against you, hands tracing your hips to settle on your waist. Electricity shoots through you and you almost stumble. His fingers are firm, gripping you and pressing you to him so that you can feel his chest against your back.

This is different. You don’t know why, but it is. You feel the artful movement of his hips, feel Jungkook’s break on the back of your neck and shoulder, the way his fingers pull at you, greedy. Your breath shudders out for you. You can smell his cologne- floral and soft on his skin. You don’t know if it’s the cocktails or Jungkook against you, but you’re drunk and dizzy with elation.

Pulling at your hips, Jungkook turns you around. You look up at him with half-lidded eyes. He guides your hands to loop around his neck and settles his own hands dangerously low. Jungkook has never had his hands on the top of your ass before, but they are now. His forehead is almost pressed against yours as he takes the lead, guiding your hips with his. 

Your thighs are burning but you don’t care. The project has long been forgotten as his breath turns into yours. You fixate on his eyes, lips slowly curling into a smile. He grins back at you, pulling you closer, slotting a leg between your thighs and oh. 

That is different. Jungkook’s jeans rub against your clothed core and you let out a sound that sounds like a moan. You snap your mouth shut, flushing from more than the heat on the dance floor. Jungkook’s grip on you tightens a fraction as he looks at you. And you know without a doubt that he heard it. That he knows the effect he has on you.

“What was that, baby?”

The name makes you flush. He’s never called you that before. Suddenly he seems closer than he was and the urge to close the distance between your mouths is clawing at you. You twist your fingers in his shirt, ready to crush your lips to his in a sudden bout of courage- a presence appears in your peripheral, something ominous and demanding, making you look.

Your mouth almost falls open- or maybe it does. Standing beside you is one of the most beautiful people you’ve ever seen, and you can’t help but fixate on the man in front of you. 

It finally dawns on you that this is what you picture when you hear about vampires. The man is tall with broad shoulders, his gold skin almost glowing beneath the dark collar of a button-up shirt. His hair is ebony, wavy strands falling into a pair of amber eyes that burn so brightly you feel as though you’ll disintegrate on the spot.

Looking at him scrambles your brain. Something in his gaze is pulling pulling pulling. You stare and stare. Something is screaming at you to look away but you’re fixated, the world falling away piece by piece until there is nothing but muted sound of the music and a faded canvas of bodies behind the man in front of you.

He smiles. You know that smile. It’s got the same edge to the bartender, the same sharpness as the man who gave Jungkook his card.

Jungkook. 

You blind and the spell fades a little as you turn to look at Jungkook. His hands have moved from your waist to over your shoulders, crossing in front of you and hugging you to him. He’s staring at the man, enchanted for a moment. Then he blinks and he’s frowning, muscles coiling against you. 

“I’m Taehyung,” the man introduces, tawny eyes flicking between the two of you. You can’t help but think he has the gaze of a tiger, hungry and feral. “Aren’t you two the most heavenly thing I’ve seen?”

Taehyung.

You realize it’s Kim Taehyung standing in front of you. The subject of your project and oh my god if you didn’t believe in your theory before, you do now. Kim Taehyung looks the epitome of supernatural beauty and graze, eyes flickering back to you as his rose red lips twitch in a smile. 

“Cat got your tongue, pretty girl?” Taehyung purrs to you. People have made room for him to stand unbothered, but their eyes shift to him like a magnet.

“You’re wearing diamond,” Jungkook notes, eyes fixated on the jewel settled in the hollow of Taehyung’s throat and the single glittering earring. Taehyung smiles at Jungkook, pleased. “You’ve got a keen eye. I am, in fact, wearing diamonds. I’m the only member you’ll find here who does, though. Unless Yoongi is around, of course.” 

The name Yoongi sounds vaguely familiar, but you can’t recall where you’ve heard of it. Taehyung doesn’t give you a chance to ask, gesturing toward the dark alcove where the private rooms are. Your heart thunders.

“Join me,” he says lightly. Something in his voice tells you it’s not a request, it's an order. His eyes drift to Jungkook, whose grip has tightened over you. “I play nice.”

“The bouncer said only people with mother of pearl are allowed to invite us to private rooms.”

“Good girl, you listened.” Taehyung seems genuinely pleased by this, but you squirm at the way his voice croons. “As your friend pointed out, I’m wearing diamonds. The rules don’t apply to me,” he winks. 

Though Jungkook lets go of his protective hug, he doesn’t let go of your hand. You cling to him a little unbalanced and drunk. He keeps a firm grip on you, looking down to make sure you’re okay. At least, you think that’s why he’s looking at you and you nod, following Taehyung who has appeared on the other side of the dancefloor. 

Weird. You don’t remember seeing him walk there. 

A shiver crawls up your spine as Taehyung steps into the pitch black of the hall. You pass through the threshold- your ears pop, making you wince. You open your mouth, stretching your jaw to adjust the pressure once again. 

The hall isn’t nearly as dark as you thought it was. The same velvet material lines the walls as the hall for the queue. There are no pictures, but metal sconces lighting the way with dull, gold light. Black doors with small plaques on them are lined on either side of you, varying from unoccupied to occupied. 

Taehyung moves smoothly through the hall, passing all of the doors. You can hear nothing from any of the doors or behind you. Glancing over your shoulder, the hallway is dark as ever and no sound from the club reaches you. 

“You won’t find what you’re looking for the way we came, Y/N.”

Your heart freezes when he says your name. You didn’t tell him your name. You turn to look at Taehyung. He’s standing at the end of the hallway in front of a large, wooden door. There is nothing that labels the status of the door’s occupants. You tighten your grip on Jungkook’s hand, suddenly hating yourself for coming here. To hell with your project, to hell with your theory. This was a terrible idea.

“Follow me,” Taehyung calls. He opens the door, walking into a dimly lit room. 

You glance at Jungkook. His gaze is darker than you remember and his face is taught. “You’re safe with me,” Jungkook murmurs. “He’s not going to hurt you. Plus, this seems a bit theatric.”

“He knows my name.”

“You had to provide them a name and a blood test,” Jungkook points out. “I’m sure he would know your social security number, if you asked.”

The thought is unsettling, but Jungkook’s assurance for your safety warms you. It’s not just the liquor you consumed heating you. It’s the way he takes the lead, gently pulling you down the hall to the room where Taehyung vanished. It’s the way he ducks his head in first before nodding that it’s okay for you to enter. 

It’s the way he called you baby right before Taehyung had interrupted whatever was happening on the dancefloor. 

A lounge is what waits beyond the door for you. You arch your brow at how ornate and intimate the setting is. The floor is dark wood to match the small bar built in the back of the room. It smells like cigar smoke and spice. A record player in the corner plays soft jazz, setting the mood to match the soft chaise lounges, crackling fireplace and glittering sconces. 

It looks like something out of an old 20s crawl space during prohibition. You can’t help but let go of Jungkook’s hand and wander over to a shelf with books and knick-knacks, hands hovering over signed cards from Louis Armstrong and a stunning portrait of Ella Fitzgerald with a personal message to Taehyung.

You turn to look at him. He’s leaning on the bar with a smirk, sipping on what appears to be whisky neat. 

Your heart begins to thunder as you trail away from the mementos of a time that Taehyung seems to be fond of. As though he was there. As though he is intimately familiar with it. Jungkook only has eyes for you as you near him, offering his hand silently. You take it on instinct, though you were never really hand holders before. 

“I’m a bit nostalgic,” Taehyung announces with a lofty sigh. He walks around behind the bar and tosses a mixing cup in the air before catching it. He starts to pull bottles from the shelves, glancing up at you with a distinct gleam in his eye. “I don’t keep much of my prized possessions here, but it does help me feel at home.”

“And where is home for you?” Your surprised you ask the question, voice far more confident than you feel.

Taehyung appears delighted as he makes a drink and gestures to Jungkook. “You were drinking an old fashioned, right? Sorry I didn’t use the smoker, I have a feeling you won’t really care.”

Jungkook doesn’t move. Taehyung arches a brow and produces another drink. “Vodka soda,” he calls to you, mouth lifting in a crooked grin. “I insist. Drink.”

There is no fighting his words. You find yourself moving toward the bar without remembering to make the decision. Jungkook is in tow, walking slower than you, as though he’s not as confident with his decision to approach.

The glass cools off your fingers as you lift it from the varnished top, hesitating while Taehyung looks at you through his bangs. You’re struck again by how intense his gaze is. He smiles slowly and something sparks inside of you- not the same way it does for Jungkook, but at a sudden wrongness.

You think it might be instinct, but you can’t put the drink down. You’re either unwilling or unable- you don’t know which.

Taehyung lifts his own drink and murmurs, “Salude,” before sipping his, amber eyes bouncing between you and Jungkook.

Both of you sip the drink- except you don’t just sip. You take a few gulps and set it back down, surprised at how much better his alcohol tastes than his bar.

“Why don’t you sit?” Taehyung gestures to the chase lounges. “You have questions, don’t you?”

“What do you mean?”

He pouts as he rounds the corner of the bar, walking over to you. Jungkook steps in front of you and Taehyung gives him a single annoyed glance. That single glance is enough to make you petrified.

In a single flash of emotion, you see something else in Taehyung’s face. Something cold and ancient and absolutely terrifying. You’re locked into place as you blink at him, but he’s smiling as he pats Jungkook on the shoulder and moving to a chair of his own, plopping down.

“I admire how protective you are of your girl, Jungkook. It’s admirable, really.” Taehyung sips his drinks as you and Jungkook stand frozen at the bar. A vein throbs in Jungkook’s neck as he stares at Taehyung, working his jaw. “However, if I wanted her, you couldn’t stop me. Now sit.”

Again, the decision to sit down is not your own.

Jungkook almost sits you on top of him. You’re sitting so close that your thigh almost overlaps his, a hand going tightly around your waist to tether you to him. You haven’t forgotten the low sound of his voice when he called you baby and you certainly haven’t forgotten the way his thigh felt between your legs. 

You can barely concentrate on your fear with Jungkook’s fingers on your waist, burning through the fabric of your shirt like an exposed flame. You shiver. If he notices, he doesn’t say anything, his focus entirely on Taehyung. 

“You have questions, do you not?” Taehyung asks, kicking his feet up on the edge of his chair. He looks at you specifically, eyes dancing behind the sparkling rim of his glass. “I’m intrigued.” 

“You know us.”

“That’s not a question. And if it was, you’re wasting the time I’ve carved out for you.”

You fidget next to Jungkook, plucking at the rising hemline of your dress. You stare at Taehyung, watching as his eyes dip to your exposed thigh. You fight the urge to cover yourself- Jungkook splays a hand over your thigh, covering most of it. You want to sigh in relief and thank him, but instead your focus goes back to Taehyung. 

“Why did you carve out time to let me ask questions?” You ask. “You obviously know who I am and my intention of coming here. I’m not sure how you managed, but you did.”

“Good girl, asking better questions already. Let’s just say I was intrigued. Let’s just say when Seokjin gave me the tip that someone was looking into me, I did my homework.”

You grit your teeth. Jimin had asked Seokjin to get you an in- he wasn’t supposed to tell him what you were doing it for. You struggled with your momentary annoyance, realizing the danger that you were now in. You had come to Nightshade with the intention of breaking the NDA you signed and risking Taehyung’s clientele and business. 

That wasn’t nothing. And now he was watching you carefully as you struggled to come up with an answer. 

“Don’t be too hard on Jimin,” Taehyung purrs. “He didn’t tell Seokjin that you were doing research on vampires. Seokjin has… a sixth sense, if you will. He pulled the information from Jimin’s mind, just sitting there for the taking.” Taehyung leans forward, elbows on his knees as he cocks his head to the side. “Tell me about your research.”

Again, the urge to tell him doesn’t come from yourself. It comes from somewhere else, a strong sense of powerlessness along with it. 

So you tell him about your research. Every detail, starting with what turned you onto the subject and where you started. Jungkook’s pressure on your thigh increases as you speak, his eyes never leaving Taehyung for a moment. He’s so still that you almost forget he is there as you ramble, discussing Taehyung’s family tree and the journal entries that pointed you in the direction of what you believe is a third strain of vampirism. 

Taehyung is a good listener- or at least, he mimes listening well. He nods in all of the right places and hums when appropriate, even complimenting you throughout your explanation, which is the most unsettling. You hate how sincere and curious he seems. It’s almost as though he is fascinated at watching a child figure something out.

When you finish, Taehyung sits back, arm resting along the length of the couch. You notice the rings on his fingers. They look old. You can barely make out a signet ring and something that looks like a family crest.

Taehyung catches you looking and grins, flashing his hand at you. “You really are the cleverest little thing, aren’t you? You managed to put together a mostly accurate theory about strains of vampirism and you must realize by now what parts of your theories are correct.”

You lick your lips. Your mouth feels dry as you nod. “You must have arrived in New Orleans like the document suggests. You have…” you gesture around. “A lot of influence from that period and a love for the culture and music. You pushed out the vampires there.” 

Taehyung hums, setting his chin in his palm. “I did push them out. I don’t have any love for the strigoi. What you believe are strains aren’t strains at all- they’re breeds. But you had the right idea- congratulations.” 

“So… you’re a vampire?” you ask softly. Any excitement you have is gone. Taehyung looks lethal and you realize that if he doesn’t intend to let you walk out, there is nothing you can do.

You’re fucked. 

“For lack of a better term. Technically a jiangshi. I can walk in the sunlight, though it is a little irritating. I drink blood to survive. I don’t age. And I have a certain influence over people.”

“Compulsion,” Jungkook offers.

You're surprised he speaks. He’s been painfully silent the entire time. Taehyung looks just as surprised, a boxy smile spreading across his face. “Oh? You know a thing or two about it?”

Jungkook grimaces and gestures to you half-heartedly. “She likes watching vampire diaries.”

You feel heat flush your face and push onwards, “That’s why when you told us to drink, we couldn’t resist. Or when you told us to sit.” 

“That’s true. I don’t like forcing people to do things, but the two of you are incredibly stubborn. But come on, darling. Please ask me something interesting.”

“Why? You’re not going to let me report what I find here.”

“No, but consider that I’m having fun and I haven’t been able to talk to anyone about what I am for a very long time. Though this club was established for the vampires that are around to feed in privacy, most of the humans who consent to being here for long periods of time come back because of the euphoria and high they get from being fed on. While they’re somewhat aware of what’s happening, we compel them to forget most details.”

“That seems incredibly non-consensual.”

“Not at all- they’ve signed plenty of papers consenting to what happens here. We only make them for get the supernatural part- many of them know they’re sharing blood- but the exchange is remembered often in a sexual nature. The people who frequent here are one-hundred percent here of their own desire and volition.” 

“And you want to answer the questions I have because it’s entertaining to you. Not because of any desire to let me finish my project.”

His grin was feline. “That would be correct.”

You glare. “I have no more questions.” 

For a moment, Taehyung just stares at you, eyes sharp. The next second, he’s laughing boisterously, the sound filling the room. His hand goes to his abdomen, pressing against his crisp shirt as he continues to laugh. You stiffen beside Jungkook and dig your nails into the chaise, knowing that he’s laughing at you and not with you.

Temper flaring, you stand abruptly, Jungkook’s hand falling from your leg. The rejection from your favorite museums is still burning in your mind. You feel the same hot embarrassment that drove you to tears with Jungkook in your kitchen. 

Taehyung's voice is like thunder when he says, “Sit.” 

You immediately follow, gnashing your teeth as you try to fight his stupid compulsion. “Ask me the questions you had before coming here.” 

Your mouth works over the words. There is an ache in your jaw as you clench your teeth together, feeling a strain working its way up your throat. Taehyung smirks and murmurs, “You’ll kill yourself fighting compulsion. Please don’t make me use my leer.”

Though you have no idea what his leer is, you let out a strangled breath. “Where did vampires originate from?”

“Egypt. The daughter of the goddess Sekhmet was sent to our plane to slaughter the Egyptians for their constant disobedience and disrespect of Ra. She produced offspring while she ravaged Ancient Egypt. Sekhmet was imprisoned in the city of the dead- I believe your friend Namjoon is acutely familiar with her.” 

That takes you by surprise. What would… you gasp lightly. Namjoon had come home after a harrowing research trip in Egypt. He had promptly quit his job at the school and joined the private acquisition company that specialized in ancient artifacts and history. 

“Is Namjoon a vampire?” you blurt, unable to help the question.

“No. He got lucky that his little tomb raider friend was versed beyond normal means in the supernatural. I believe you’re familiar with her branch of the Illuminati’s recovery business.” 

“T-the acquisition place Namjoon works at is a part of the Illuminati?”

“We’re going off track,” Taehyung sighs breezily. “Please focus and go back to asking questions for your paper.” 

“You mean questions about you?” You scoff. “You’re painfully cliche.”

Jungkook brushes his fingers on your arm in warning and murmurs, “I got it.”

You’re unsure what he means but he sits forward, glare on his face. “How many breeds of vampires are there and what- in a summary, please- is the difference between them?”

“Oh?” Taehyung turns his attention to Jungkook. “You’re not a history major.”

“Her research is important to me and I know it inside and out. Answer the questions.”

“I come from an ancient line that can stretch our heritage back to pre-dynastic China. The Mongol Empire drove my kind throughout regions of Asia. I was born in what is now considered South Korea. The differences between vampiric creatures are typically abilities and background, nothing more. The family trees you’ve mentioned in your research are not family trees by blood, but by turning. We share names as a part of our heritage and power.” 

“What do you mean, abilities?” 

“Just like different snakes have different types of venom and skin, vampires have different attributes. I’m not dead, though that might be hard to believe. Immortality and being alive are not mutually exclusive.”

“How does one make vampires?”

“The surest way is by consuming the blood of one. Contrary to popular belief, you don’t need to die to turn. Vampire blood contains a virus-like component that your blood cells will attack once it enters the stream. The moment your blood cells attack the vampire-cells, they’re infected and replaced with the same genetic material that makes up vampiric plasma.” 

“I said simple,” Jungkook mutters. “So it’s a virus?”

“It works like a virus and it can spread through blood contamination, but it is a crude way to identify the gene. Think of it as genetic material.” 

“So the plague?” You ask.

“Not the cause of vampires, but rather- people shared blood hoping that it would give immortality and healing abilities. Hence the massive spread of disease. The vampires you’ve identified in the Dracul bloodline are associated with what you’ve called porphyria- the disease gave them more mobility to openly interact with people during the plague.” 

“Another breed?” 

“Yes, the Upir,” he sighs. “Similar to strigoi. They come from the same region and have the same sensitivity in sunlight. Their blood has a thermal reaction to UV rays, so while they won’t burst into flames, they do get a mean sunburn faster than most people. They also tend to have blood lust far more than I’ve experienced.”

“What’s roughly the size of the population of vampires?” 

For the first time that night, Taehyung shows genuine emotion. It’s brief, but you recognize pain flashing across his eyes, the twitch of his mouth toward a frown and the way his nose flares. You know the answer before he says it. 

“Not many. At our height, there were probably around ten different breeds. Now? There’s two. Jiangshi and the strigoi.” 

“Why?”

Taehyung gestured to the room around them. “There are almost no places in the world like this. What you see here is years of work and methodical planning to come up with a way for my people to feed safely. There is too much science and technology in the world for us to thrive without getting caught. And like I say- vampires aren’t born. They’re made.”

“Getting caught?” Jungkook asks, brows furrowing. “Are there like- hunters or something?”

Taehyung’s smile is strained. “There are those who know we exist, and who would prefer for us not to exist.” He claps his hands together, rubbing his palms together softly. You realize that the fireplace is dying and your glass has long been finished. “This has been nice. Thank you both for indulging in some discussion, it’s been so nice to talk freely with such curious minds. Perhaps we can do it again sometime.”

“Wait?” You ask, shooting to your feet. “You’re just letting us go?”

“Of course. I’ve collected my insurance. You’re not going to go running your mouth once your boyfriend turns.”

It’s not Taehyung calling Jungkook your boyfriend that makes your heart catch. In fact, you hardly gesture that. It’s the self-satisfied smirk on Taehyung’s rose-red lips as he stands languidly, lifting his glass filled with amber liquid toward Jungkook before he downs it, strolling to the bar.

Jungkook is fixed in his spot, face sheet-white and eyes round as he stares at Taehyung. His knuckles are white as he holds his glass. His hands are shaking- there’s nothing left in the glass, the old fashioned drained dry.

Slowly, Jungkook’s eyes dip down to the glass before they drag back up to look at you. You’re frozen in mute horror, mouth parting lightly as Taehyung’s words settled into place, locking onto your shoulders and pressing with more weight than you’ve ever felt.

“You’re lying,” you growl, spinning to face Taehyung. You can feel the tremor in your voice and your hands.

You never expected Taehyung to answer your questions so succinctly without something being in it for you. You wouldn’t have asked the questions at all, had he not compelled you to do so.

There’s no way someone as carefully planned as Taehyung turned Jungkook on a whim. Your brain begins firing synapses, putting together reasons that Taehyung wouldn’t turn Jungkook. His entire club is built on the foundation of secrecy and he said it himself- years of planning.

So why turn Jungkook?

Taehyung leans on his elbows against the bar lazily, looking like the cat who ate the canary. “I’m not.”

“What do you get out of turning him?” You demanded. “There’s nothing. You wouldn’t-“

“I get your vow of secrecy for starters. I won’t help him during his transition if you run your mouth. Additionally, you seem to be a prime candidate for the open position your friend Namjoon has created at the Illuminati.”

“You want access.”

He lifts a shoulder. “Maybe I do.”

“You’re a vampire,” you spit between your teeth. “Compel them.”

“They know all about me, I’m afraid. Despite Yoongi’s influence with them, the Iluminati don’t like me.” His smile is predatory. “They’re not particularly fond of my involvement in stealing one of their artifacts.”

Taehyung gestures to Jungkook and says, “I will happily protect the little fledging provided your word you talk to no one about this place and that you provide research when I call on you. Yoongi is not nearly as dedicated to my projects as I need him to be and his loyalty cannot be bought. Yours can.”

“Y/N,” Jungkook murmurs.

You’re not thinking. Nothing makes sense and nothing matters. You see red on the edge of your vision and you hardly register your arm moving as you throw your glass at Taehyung. It surprises the vampire, based on his wide eyes. But he moves quickly, a blur of movement as the glass shatters against bottles behind the bar.

A horrible scream rips out of you, obscenities new and old as you leap over the coffee table with more agility than you expect. Taehyung grins wider as you behind to throw whatever you can at him, screaming at him to undo what he’s done.

What he’s done to Jungkook. Not you.

Nothing has been done to you for your prying. For your need to come here. For dragging Jungkook along.

Something horrible and terrifying is working its way through you and you feel the tears in your eyes as your rage peters out with a choke.

Guilt crashes on you so succinctly that you collapse on the chair, face in your hands as your tears spill over, hot on your palms and salty on your lips. “Fuck,” you whisper. “Fuck fuck fuck.”

“I’ll leave you two to it,” Taehyung announces, vanishing from the room.

You lift your head to see Jungkook is still standing in his spot. “Jungkook,” you plead, though you don’t know what you’re pleading for exactly. “This is my fault. I will find a way to fix this, Jungkook I am so sorry. Fuck this is all my fault, please, I-“

“Y/n.”

“I am so fucking stupid. I should have never brought us here. You were right, this wasn’t worth being right and I am a selfish, prideful idiot who-“

“Y/N,” he says your name again, softly but with purpose. You look at him through tear-stained eyes. “Let’s just go home.”

“I…”

Jungkook softens. “We don’t even know if he’s telling the truth, Indy. I don’t feel any different. The drink didn’t taste weird. Come on.” He holds out a hand. You drift to him, fingers yearning for his as you stretch your hand and lace your fingers with his. He gives you a squeeze and a smile that doesn’t reach his eyes. “Everything is going to be okay.”

-

Nothing is okay. A few days ago, you woke up to an empty hotel room in a city an hour away from home. You can’t remember falling asleep, spending the entire night stressing and looking for any signs of vampirism as the night stretched on, but Jungkook was fine. He was normal- albeit, nervous and tired.

Then the morning came. You had launched out of your bed to… nothing. Jungkook was nowhere to be found. His things were in his room, but his cell was gone and his clothes from the night before were folded on the dresser. You even went as far as to extending your stay another night, spending every moment calling and texting him.

That night, you had gone back to the club. Tear-stained and with bloodshot eyes, you marched up to the nondescript building, only to be turned away at the door. The bouncer wouldn’t answer your questions. Didn’t even blink when you gave him Taehyung’s name and threatened to go to the police.

He had simply said, “You should go to the police if you think your friend is missing. Have a good night.”

Every phone call, text and voicemail went unanswered into the late night. You don’t remember crying more than you had that entire day, worried to the point of making yourself physically ill, only finding comfort in the cool tile floor beneath your bruised knees and the cold touch of the toilet as you sagged against it.

You had to return home eventually. So you did. Dodging the text messages of your friends. Making excuses.

We found nothing you assured them with unsteady hands, sniffling in the dark of your room. We did get a little sick, though. Jungkook has a fever.

No we don’t need anything.

I’m just going to take that part out of my research.

No you can’t come over.

Yes you can send me the notes for class.

Sitting in the dark of your living room, the silence presses in. You look at your text thread with Jungkook. Everything is burned into your mind with startling permanence.

The internet is no longer comforting. You scour the internet and pour yourself over every article you can find. Your search history looks like you should check yourself into a mental ward. Signs of vampirism. How do you know if you’re a vampire? Cures to vampirism.

You revisit your research and begin a new project. You comb through the genetic findings and family trees, wondering if you missed something. Taehyung had said that vampirism was like a virus- plenty of viruses could be cured. So why not vampirism?

­Takeout cartons are piling on your counter and the sink smells something awful. You don’t take the time to clean- you have a single mission. Something stops you from calling the police- you know they won’t believe you and Taehyung’s threat… it holds sway over you.

Your searches and notes are littered- no, consumed with ways to kill a vampire.

It’s the thought of sticking a stake through Kim Taehyung that has you sitting in the living room in the dark, eyes burning. You scroll through the texts- you’ve sent over 100. Each one goes unanswered, but they’re delivered. Which counts for something, you think. It means Jungkook’s phone is on and even though he isn’t answering… he’s alive.

The thought that perhaps it’s about you occurs. You realize that maybe… maybe Jungkook doesn’t want to talk to you. Maybe this is real, and Taehyung did something horrible to him by turning him into a creature of legend and Jungkook rightfully blames you.

It’s fair. It’s what’s right.

You swallow past the lump in your throat but the tears break free anyway. You’re tired of crying but you can’t seem to find a way to stop. Jungkook is gone and you miss him.

The hole his lack of presence creates is pronounced and dangerous. For the last few years, the thought of you and Jungkook not being you and Jungkook had never occurred to you. You did everything together and nothing else… nothing else was like what you have.

What you had.

There are no updates on Jungkook’s streams. There are comments on social media and his YouTube page asking where he’s gone and why he isn’t streaming. You scour through them, hoping that maybe he’s logged in to look at comments or to tell people he’s taking a break.

But there’s nothing.

And it’s like Jungkook doesn’t exist anymore.

-

Something in your kitchen wakes you up. You’ve taken to not sleeping in your room- not a meaningful decision, but one driven by falling asleep on the couch crying or researching. Nights driven watching Jungkook’s favorite shows while staring at your phone.

Rubbing your eyes, you look around the room, eyes darting to the kitchen. At first, nothing looks different. The room is pitch black, your laptop dead with the cord unplugged. Someone in the parking lot drives by, lights flashing in your first-floor unit and-

A figure is standing in your kitchen. Your heart pitches to your stomach so violently that you feel like you might launch into a cardiac episode. A scream works its way up your throat and lodges itself there, unable to be set free.

You’ve never felt terror like this in your life.

And then the light over your stove flicks on, revealing Jungkook standing in your kitchen.

Your breath gets stuck for a new reason entirely. His hair is damp and hanging in his face. He’s in a giant t-shirt and sweats, his normal casual wear. Your heart begins pounding in your chest as you jump to your feet, ready to launch yourself at him.

“Please stay there,” he almost whispers. You stop moving. “I… just stay there.”

“Jungkook.” His name is soft and teary in your mouth. “Are you okay? Please tell me what you need.”

“Just need you to stay there I can… smell you.”

You inhale sharply and nod. You open and close your mouth. There are so many questions you want to ask but you shove them to the side. You just want to hug him and to ask what he needs you to do. You don’t care where he has been, you just want to know that he’s okay and help him. To fix whatever is broken.

To say sorry.

“Tell me what to do,” you murmur. “Tell me how to make this right.”

“I don’t know, but please don’t blame yourself.”

You break. You feel the seams rip loose as you collapse in on yourself and begin to weep in earnest. You just want to go back to the way things were. Before you ruined it. Before whatever… whatever was happening now.

It’s not fair that you’re crying. You’re not the one who has gone through hell and back- well you have, but it feels selfish. Why are you the one crying when Jungkook- perhaps a vampire- is standing in your kitchen looking lost. More lost than he’s ever looked.

“I’m sorry,” you croak, violently wiping your face. “It’s selfish of me to cry. I have no right to be crying.”

“Indy, it’s okay to cry.”

You shake your head. “I did this, Jungkook.” You bite your lip and nod as you think about it. “I wanted so badly to be right, to make myself feel important. I was… I was too obsessed with trying to prove something new to myself, as if it would make me feel better about the museum rejections.”

He drifts forward, soundless. “There’s nothing wrong with that.”

“There is when it results in whatever has happened here. I missed you in a way I don’t know how to describe. I don’t know- I don’t know what happened to you but it’s my fault and I’m sorry.”

“I voluntarily went with you,” Jungkook says firmly. “In fact, the hotel room was in my name.”

“But you went because of me, because you supported me and I…” You shrug. “I wasn’t punished for my vanity and you’re… I don’t even know.”

On instinct, you stand up and step toward him. You can’t help but seek his comfort and to comfort him in return. What you don’t expect is the snarl that ripples through him, vibrating every dish in your cabinet.

“Don’t come near me,” he hisses, eyes narrowed.

You startle, gasping and skittering backward as your hand flies to your mouth to hide the sound coming out of you. Jungkook’s eyes flash silver in the dark, like a predator whose eyes have been exposed to light.

A scream threatens to break through and a gross terror slides into your mind unbidden- is Jungkook there to kill you for what you’ve done?

It is both ridiculous and firm in your mind, taking root as you step back unsteadily.

“No,” Jungkook whispers, voice something like pleading. “Please don’t do that. Please don’t… please.”

You’re unsure what he’s asking, but you can see him better with the kitchen light on and he looks… defeated. His bottom lip wobbles and his eyes are round- no longer narrowed the way you saw them a moment before. No dangerous flash. Just brown, and just… Jungkook.

“I’m sorry.” You shake your head because you don’t know how to form words. You don’t want him to apologize, but you don’t know how to shape the words through your fear. “I’m sorry that I came here, but I wanted to see you. I didn’t know you would… smell so good and I… I scared you. Taehyung told me not to come here- told me it might be too tempting but I did anyways.”

“You don’t understand,” he continues, unbidden. “You fell asleep in the hotel room that night and something happened to me. You always smell good but you smelled even better and then I could hear the soft pulse in your neck… your heart beat. It sang every song I ever wanted to hear and there was a brief moment where I… where I thought it wouldn’t be so bad, if I just tasted you.”

Jungkook looks at the floor, eyebrows pinched and fingers pulling at the hem of his shirt, hands unable to keep still. “It was the worst moment of my life,” he whispers. “For a split second, I thought- what would stop me from leaning down and taking what I wanted? What I’ve always wanted? So I left. I had to leave. I found Taehyung and he kept his word.”

“He’s helping you?”

“Yeah. He’s not… terrible, despite what he’s done to me. I don’t like him, but he’s helping. Didn’t want me to see you, though. Thought I might…”

He trails off. You know what he was going to say. Taehyung thought that Jungkook might kill you. Because he now drinks blood for a living, and because you smell nice.

Jungkook takes a step forward and you take one back. He looks at you and lets out something that sounds like a whine, a soft sound that is so desperate you almost run to him and throw yourself into his arms, danger be damned. You want to.

But keep keeps you rooted as a million emotions flit across his face.

Jungkook has always been intense when he’s upset, but this is like nothing you’ve ever seen before. He’s standing in the dark of your kitchen, but his eyes almost glow. Headlights in the parking lot flash by your window briefly again, lighting his eyes up like white beacons of fire. You take a step back and he makes a noise in the back of his throat, needy like a whimper.

“Please don’t be afraid of me,” Jungkook whispers. 

Of course you’re afraid. You haven’t seen him in days and he manifested in your kitchen like a shadow. He looks like your best friend and he sounds like your best friend, but he’s altogether different. There’s an edge to him as he soundlessly moves across the kitchen, tentative steps to you. He makes no sound, unusual for him. 

But it's Jungkook. And the soft pleading in his dark eyes that you can just register in the dim light and the way he wavers at the threshold of the kitchen, watching and waiting for your consent… it makes you crack. 

“I’m not,” you whisper.

“You are.” You hear the tremor in his voice. “I can smell it on you- just like I can smell everything else. You’re terrified of me and it’s my fault.” 

“Jungkook-”

“I shouldn’t be here.” 

He walks- no he glides to your door, moving with a grace that is more than just his usual, lithe steps. You bolt after him, reaching out to grab his arm as he reaches for the door. He reacts faster than your eyes can pick up the movement, wrapping a strong hand around your wrist and yanking you forward.

A sound of surprise laced with mild fears escapes you as he pins you against the hardwood door, caging you in as he steps forward. Your breath stutters as you look up at him, question dying on your lips as you really look at him.

Jungkook’s eyes are dark as midnight, but there is something glinting in them, sharp and shining. His hair hangs in his face and he’s breathing is shallow. His eyes are searching and burning and he presses a little bit closer to you and he’s warm warm warm. You shiver, despite the warmth and the smell of him- like rosewood and citrus, making your head dizzy. 

You’ve always been close to Jungkook, always ignoring one another’s personal space. But this feels different. This feels hotter as his hands skate up your sides until he reaches all the way to your jaw, angling your face to him. Your pulse hammers under the pads of his finger, and you watch his focus shift from your face to your neck.

You can’t see the little canines peeking behind his lush mouth. But you suspect that they’re there, two little sharp points that could bite into the soft flesh of your neck. The fear you had moments ago is suddenly dulling, replaced with something else that burns in the pit of your stomach. 

Everything you know about the fabric of the world has changed with him. And still… you’re pleading with him, murmuring, “Don’t leave.”

“You don’t understand,” he murmurs, almost a growl. He presses his forehead to yours and you push toward him instinctually. You’re drawn to him and your head is still spinning but you want nothing more in that moment for Jungkook to close the distance between you, to press his soft, pouty lips against yours. “If I don’t leave right now, I never will.”

“Please don’t,” you whisper. “Please.” 

“Baby…” 

Jungkook has only ever called you that once. Your mind flashes to that night, the single time during your friendship that you thought you could be more. When the touches weren’t familiar and they were intimate and you had been drowning in Jungkook. The night this all started, the night that Jungkook’s journey as… the word vampire sounds ridiculous and instead, you focus on the way he makes you feel. 

The pet name licks a flame inside you and you bring your hands up to pull at his waist, suddenly greedy for the feel and the smell of him. Your fear is gone. “Bite me, Jeon.”

Jungkook makes a sound that sounds close a moan and you echo it. Every emotion that changes his face pulls you in in in. Your fear is replaced with something headier- needier. You angle you head, exposing your neck.

“Will it help?” you whisper.

“Hmm?”

He seems distracted and despite the rollercoaster of emotions, you smile. “Feeding,” you mumble. Your hands slide to his face, fingers delicately touching the bags under his eyes. “You look so tired. I just want to help.”

“I haven’t fed from a person.”

“How… do you?”

“Blood bags, like Vampire Diaries. Sometimes in cups.”

You trace your fingertips along his cheek bones. Brushing dark strands from his face, you cup his cheeks softly, searching. Jungkook is still there- your Jungkook. He’s reflected in his eyes, in the careful way he holds you and watches you.

“I trust you,” you whisper. What you really want to say is what’s weighed on you throughout his entire absence: I love you.

You love him. You know you do. it burns dully right at the center of your chest, flaring into an inferno when he gives you a gentle nod and leans forward. You feel your heartbeat quicken, threatening to burst from your chest as you drop your hands to clutch at his shoulders.

Jungkook’s breath hits your neck and you moan deep in your throat again. He echoes the sound but its deeper as he hesitates, lips so close you can feel him breathing. You twist your fingers further in his shirt, pulling gently and you feel him smile as he chuckles nervously.

A breath gets stuck in your throat as Jungkook brushes his mouth against your pulse point, a ghost of a kiss. You can’t help but shiver and his grip tightens on you. His name falls out of your lips in the soft voice. You feel it on your neck as he presses a firm kiss to your throat.

“That feels nice,” you sigh.

It does feel nice. His mouth is soft and intimate as he begins kissing your skin. It’s hard to focus on anything but the way his mouth presses closed mouth kisses down your throat, pausing at the junction of your neck and shoulder.

“Are you sure?” You nod your head, unable to come up with a response as your eyelids flutter shut. “Tell me if I need to stop.”

“Okay.”

Carefully, Jungkook kisses his way back to a spot on your throat that he seems to favor, nosing your delicate skin first before he brings his lips to your skin. His teeth scrap your flesh and you let out a breathy sound as Jungkook slowly bites down. The skin breaks and immediately the pinch of his teeth sends a sharp pain through you.

You tighten your hands but you don’t push him away, the throb dulling as he makes a sound deep in his chest. You pant against him, head cloudy. You feel lighter than you remember and you sag against your door, feeling the pull of Jungkook’s greedy mouth against you. His tongue laves at your neck and you moan loudly then.

Jungkook pulls away from you, gasping. He hides his face in your neck but you grab him- you want to see him. He protests and you pull his neck harder, moving his face away from your neck to in front of you.

For a moment, you don’t do anything but stare. You’re mutely aware that there is blood running down your throat. You can feel the hot liquid trailing on your skin, slowly dripping. Your neck hurts- but it’s a very soft pain, barely there.

Jungkook looks terrifyingly beautiful. Lips ruby, blood staining his chin. His eyes are black, pupils expanded as he stares at you in painful stillness. You know you should be horrified but you’re not. You know you should be concerned that he just bit into your neck, but you’re not.

“Kiss me,” you demand. You don’t know where the strength in your voice comes from. You push into him, tilting your mouth towards his but not closing the distance, letting him decide. “Please.”

Jungkook responds immediately. He presses his lips firmly against you, stick and wet with your blood. It’s just a press of lips and his mouth is soft soft soft and you inhale through your nose sharply, knees going weak and buckling.

Tightening his hold around you, Jungkook pulls away, staring down at you, eyes wild and bloody lips parted. “Can I really kiss you?”

“Please.”

This kiss is different. You can taste the salt and iron on Jungkook’s lips as he slots his mouth against yours, sucking your bottom lip into his mouth. Your tongue brushes his bottom lip and he growls, pressing your lips open to slide his tongue against yours.

Jungkook’s hands slide down your waist to your ass, squeezing firmly as his tongue explores the warmth of your mouth. Your hips cant against his, seeking friction where you want him most. You whine into the metallic kiss, sweatpants too thick for the feeling you want.

Growling into your mouth, Jungkook presses you flat against the door. You can feel his heartbeat thundering in his chest as the kiss turns messy. Jungkook’s teeth catch your lip and you feel the pinch of broken skin before blood slowly blooms in your mouth. Jungkook sucks your lip into his mouth, moaning as his tongue brushes over the wound.

It spurs you forward, the way he claws at you and kisses you as though he might die if he doesn’t have you sends you into a frenzy. You push into him, as though you can meld yourself to him. Your teeth nip at him back, sharply catching the corner of his soft mouth.

Jungkook breaks away and makes a sound of surprise, hand shooting to his lips, swollen from kissing you. You’re panting against the door, staring at him as he wipes the bottom corner of his mouth. His finger comes away scarlet.

“You bit me,” he smirks looking down at you. “You little vampire.”

You blush. The blood is drying on your neck, itchy and cracking as you extend your head again, showing off the bruised and marred flesh. “Don’t you need…. More?”

“I’m hungry for something else entirely, baby.”

The way he is looking at you sends you into overdrive. You make a sound, wiggling against him and he smirks, eyes looking you up and down. You must look a pathetic mess, stained with dried blood, clothes disheveled and lips swollen. But when Jungkook looks at you like that- gaze dark, hungry for something deeper- you don’t care what you look like.

There’s just Jungkook. He’s all you can focus on as your hands slide up his neck, carding through his hair and looking at his face without the shadow of his bangs. He’s ethereal as always, but gone are the cute, round eyes you’re so familiar with. Gone is the soft smile, replaced with two tiny fangs as Jungkook bites his bottom lip.

You can’t help it- a hand drifts down to his mouth, thumb gently prying his lips open. He obeys, letting you brush the pad of your thumb against the newly exposed fangs. They’re small and white, two sharp canines under your touch.

Jungkook’s tongue darts out, licking your thumb playfully as you retract your hand and make a face of fake disgust. He grins. “Sorry,” his voice is low. “Can’t help myself.”

“You didn’t have them earlier?”

He shakes his head. “Only come out when hungry and…”

“And?”

“Aroused.”

Your brows shoot up. “I see.” Your fingers trail his jaw. He’s so painfully perfect. “We should fix that.”

“Thank fuck,” he mumbles, hands shooting to grab you by the waist and haul you up.

You squeak, jumping a little last second to help him secure you in his arms. You’re a little higher than him now, arms wrapped around his neck as he carries you to your bedroom. He navigates the dark easily. You wonder if it’s the years of being in your apartment or supernatural sight that helps him.

It doesn’t matter. The heat from his body is real. He’s still a living, breathing person. He’s altered- you see it in the way his eyes dilate when he lays you on your bed, gaze drifting to your neck. You see it in the way his eyes flash every time they catch the light.

“You’re so beautiful,” Jungkook says softly. His gaze doesn’t feel as innocent as his words. He climbs onto the bed, supporting himself so that he’s hovering over you. “I don’t tell you often enough- wasn’t brave enough to. But I think you are singularly the most beautiful woman in the world.”

You don’t know how to take the compliment. Your head automatically turns to the side as you grin into his forearm, placed next to your head. He laughs and leans down, nosing the side of your face, breath warm as he whispers, “Why does that make you shy? You weren’t shy a moment ago when you bit me.”

“It was different. That was physical.”

“So you only like me physically?”

“No!” you snap to look at him only to find that he’s grinning, back to leaning over you. You want to smack him for teasing you, but the feeling in your stomach and your chest make you fidget under him. His eyes track every movement, every reaction. “I like you… a lot.”

“As more than a friend?” You nod, eyes not meeting him. “Why can’t you look at me, then?”

“Because I’m afraid.” You feel Jungkook start to pull away and you grab at him. “Not of you! I’m afraid you don’t feel the same way. Because I’ve liked you for a very long time, and I didn’t know what to do about it.”

Jungkook presses you back down, head going to the side of your neck he hasn’t bitten. You’re pliant beneath him, head tilting to give him access. You’re already trained for what he wants or needs, ready to give him more.

Instead of biting you, he peppers your neck with wet kisses, tongue tasting your skin. “Indy,” he mumbles. “I have been in love with you since the first moment you walked into our Intro to Classical History class.”

“Really?”

His tongue licks along your jaw. You arch up into him, thighs rubbing together for friction. Of course he notices, smirking into your skin as he continues mapping your face with his mouth. “Yeah,” he breathes. “You wore the world’s tightest pair of jeans I’ve ever seen and an over-sized Tokyo Ghoul shirt- I remember being a little sad it covered your ass.”

You gasp as one hand moves from next to you to slide down your front, palming a breast gently. “You’re so gross, Jeon.”

He hums. “That’s nothing.” His hand goes further, tapping the outside of your thigh. “Open up for me, baby.”

Again, you follow his instruction without hesitation. You make room for him to settle on his knees between you. He sits up, eyes consuming you as you look up at him, batting your lashes. He inhales and his eyes flutter shut, fists opening and closing before he opens his eyes again. They’re zeroed in on you, making your heart catch.

“I can smell how wet you are,” he murmurs. He drags a fingertip along the sliver of skin showing between your shirt and sweats. “You’re dripping for me, yeah?”

“Yes.”

“Want me to do something about it?” He’s teasing you and you feel yourself flush. He pinches your skin slightly, making you squirm. “You gotta tell me what you want.”

“Want you.”

“Want me where?”

“My pussy, Jeon. Just do something.”

His saccharine smile makes you melt. Jungkook grips your sweat pants, pulling. You lift, helping him as he throws the clothing somewhere. You start to close your legs again but he grabs your knees, prying you open and tsking at you. “Such a pretty pussy,” he says, voice husky. “So fucking wet and pink. I told you,” he murmurs shuffling to his stomach. Your heart launches to your throat when he kisses a knee, eye-level with your dripping cunt. “I’m fucking starving.”

Despite his implications, Jungkook doesn’t go right where you’re hoping. He places hot kisses on your inner thighs, hands rubbing up and down your legs as he bites and worships them. You’re trembling, eyes fluttering shut as your hips twitch toward him.

“Jungkook,” you murmur, pleading. You don’t have it in you to be embarrassed being on display for him. Your core is throbbing for him to touch you, to do anything. He huffs a laugh as he presses his mouth dangerously close, nipping you as a lone finger brushes you from entrance to clit, pressing slightly. “Fuck.”

Jungkook’s eyes are glittering as he brings his finger to his mouth, glistening finger vanishing between red, sinful lips. He hums again, eyes focusing on your wetness. “Fucking delicious.”

You can’t stop the obscene moan that escapes your mouth when he ducks his head down, flattening his tongue to lick you slowly from hole to clit, where he pauses to circle his tongue a few times around the pulsing bud.

And oh fuck does it feel good. Every thought empties from your mind. It’s just the hot feeling coursing through you and the feeling of Jungkook’s tongue licking you slowly up and down. A guttural sound escapes you when he fastens his mouth to your pussy, sucking gently before popping his mouth off.

In a daze, you open your eyes in just enough time to see him let a line of spit drip out of his mouth onto your clit. Your hips jerk and you curse again when he grins, glancing up at you and murmuring, “I’m going to eat this fucking pussy until I’ve had my fill.”

Jungkook doesn’t give you time to consider what he means. His mouth is back on you, sucking and licking, making an absolute mess out of you. Your hands shoot to his hair, fingers twisting in his black locks as he gives appreciative sounds, tongue tracing your clenching hole.

“Oh my god,” you whisper, voice cracking. “Please.”

You don’t know what you’re asking for. Jungkook seems to, alternating from tracing his tongue through your folds expertly to sucking his clit into your mouth. His mouth sets of sparks with every lewd sound- and Jungkook isn’t quiet.

With anyone else, you might be embarrassed that the way he eats you out audibly, without shame and without a care in the world. It turns you on more, essence leaking out of you that his searching tongue catches.

Your orgasm is quickly approaching, that tight feeling mounting in your stomach as your breathing gets shorter. Your eyes are squeezed shut, hips rolling to time with his careful licks and sucks. You’re hot all over, a furnace under Jungkook’s mouth.

The dam breaks. You jerk forward, gasping as your legs squeeze Jungkook’s shoulders. You can hear nothing beyond the roar of your blood in your ears, see nothing but blinding stars behind your eyes. You sag back onto the bed, twitching and thighs shaking as Jungkook diverts from giving your clit attention to licking at your entrance.

Boneless, you try and move up the bed but Jungkook’s hands grab you by your ass, pulling back down toward his mouth. You look at him, feeling drunk as you see his dark head of hair between your legs.

Jungkook’s eyes are fathomless as he growls, “Did I say I was done, baby?”

“Sensitive,” you whine.

He kisses your inner thigh, leaving a wet mark of spit and your cum. “I’ll go slow,” he promises, not taking his eyes off of you as his tongue snakes out of his wicked mouth to prod at your hole. “Mmm. Want to taste you more.”

“Fuck,” you moan as his tongue relieves some of the pressure at your aching hole. But it’s not enough- not nearly.

Jungkook senses what you need, a hand leaving where he’s gripping you to trace between your legs. Gently, his finger circles the ring of your clenching muscles. Eyes finding yours, he raises a brow. “Is this what you need, baby? Need my fingers?”

“Please.” He kisses your clit, making you twitch. “Jungkook.”

“Sorry,” he smiles, though he doesn’t sound or look sorry. “Just wanna make you cum again.”

There’s not going to be a problem there. You swear as he slowly inserts a finger, brushing against the softness of you in all the right parts. You know you’re going to cum embarrassingly fast, especially when he inserts another finger, gently brushing your g-spot as he brushes his mouth over your thighs, wrist moving slowly.

You melt at his touch, letting him bring you to the edge again. You can’t stop the sounds coming out of your mouth or the way you writhe in his arms. He lets you squirm, attentive on fucking into you at a steady pace with his fingers.

When he deems you ready, he brings his mouth back down, tongue slowly laving at your clit.

You explode.

For a moment, you’re nowhere and everywhere all at once. You can’t think beyond anything other than the surging euphoria. You can’t recall ever cumming that hard, nearly unable to breathe as you float back down.

It takes a moment for you to realize Jungkook is kissing your lower stomach, hands rubbing up and down your quaking thighs as he looks up to you, eyes completely fucked out and mouth covered in your juices.

“You did so good,” he coos, placing a wet kiss on your navel. “You taste divine- better than blood. Much better.”

“Want you,” you mumble, surprised you manage to articulate the desire still burning in your stomach, hot and needy. “Please.”

“Yeah? Still want me?”

“Of course.”

“Fuck,” he mumbles, getting to his knees again. “You’ll have me, then. You’ll always have me- have always had me.”

Soft light filters in your room from the window. You watch in awe as he rips his shirt off. You’ve seen him shirtless before- he’s always been beautiful. But now in the glow of the dark room, Jungkook is a god.

You sit up, hands seeking. His skin is warm and flushed as your palms skim up his stomach and around his waist, careful and meaningful with their worship. Your mouth follows to pay penance, kissing at the newly exposed flesh, nipping at the delicate skin above his sweatpants.

Jungkook tilts his head to the sky, as if in prayer. Your tongue darts out to taste him, skin sweet and slightly salty from sweat. He lets out a soft mewl. Your fingers dig into his skin as they drag down, nails tracing red scripture in their descent.

You love him. Gone is the feral heat between you a moment ago when he licked at you with hot fury. Your touches are soft. Jungkook brings his hand to your hair, brushing it out of your face as he looks down at you, eyes round and curious.

“You’re hypnotizing.” You pull at his pants and he lets you, shifting to discard the sweatpants and boxers. You nearly collapse at the sight of his heavy cock, bouncing. Its tip is weeping and pink, begging for attention. “All of you is perfect.”

Your tongue darts out to taste him, kitten-licking the tip. He moans deep in his throat, eyes shut as his fingers tangle in your hair. You suckle the tip of his cock, tongue tracing lazy circles before you pull back with a lewd pop.

Gently, you bring a hand to stroke him, nearly keening at how velvety his skin is. His cock jumps in your hand, making you smile at how much you affect him.

Slowly, you stroke him, bringing him back to your mouth. Hollowing your cheeks, you take more of his cock into the warmth of your mouth, humming delicately at the salty tastes.

“Fuck,” Jungkook groans loudly. You’ve hardly set a pace when he pulls you gently off of him, making you pout. “I can’t,” he pants. “I’ll cum in a second and I don’t want to cum down your throat tonight. We can do that another time. I just want to fuck you- please let me make love to you.”

Jungkook’s choice in words have you spinning. Make love. You don’t know what that’s like- you’ve fucked men before, but never with meaning. Never with intentions beyond pleasure.

Carefully, Jungkook pulls your shirt off, tossing it in the dim room. He presses you back down on the bed, bringing his mouth to yours. Your tongues tangle as you wrap your legs around his waist, pulling him closer. You feel his cock brush your wet entrance and you groan into him.

The kiss tastes like a mix of him and you and the faint saltiness of blood- you don’t care. It’s a part of him, so it’s a part of you. Jungkook shuffles himself so that his mouth is pressed against your jaw, hot breath in your ear as he places open-mouthed kisses there.

“Condom?”

“I’m clean,” you gasp as his tip grazes your clit. “We got STD tests together, remember? I haven’t… since.”

You feel his mouth curve upward. “Me either. Taehyung mentioned vampires are… sterile.”

“Fine,” you mutter. “I don’t want kids- I want to adventure the world- with you.”

“Fuck.” His voice shakes when he says it.

Spurred by the need in his voice, you reach between you, gripping Jungkook’s cock in his head. He shakes above you as you brush the tip up and down your slit, gathering your essence to make him slick. You position his blunt head at your entrance, looking up at him. He doesn’t hesitate, rolling his hips forward to push into you.

The pressure doesn’t hurt, but you feel all of him. You make a sigh of relief and discomfort as he slowly slides into you. Jungkook fills every inch of you, the drag of his cock delicious. He bottoms out and stays there for a moment, stealing a searing kiss from you.

Your fingers wind in his hair. “Please move,” you mumbled between pressed lips. “Wanna feel you.”

Jungkook doesn’t hesitate, groaning as he slides his cock all the way out and pushes back in slowly. His pace is slow but deep, making it hard to breathe. Your hips roll in time to meet his thrust, an almost lazy pace like you have all the time in the world.

Your mouth is busy as you kiss Jungkook on his lips, jaw, chin, ear. It’s more teeth and tongue than anything, especially as he starts fucking into you with a smooth pace.

Everything in your mind goes haywire. You can barely think. You want to touch Jungkook everywhere, pulling and pulling him until he’s down on his forearms, chest pressed against yours. You moan at the feeling of his chest against your pert nipples, creating mind-numbing friction.

Jungkook notices. He ducks his dead down as he pumps into you, hitting deep every time. He wraps his mouth around a nipple, making you sing. Everything is overwhelming. You feel every part of him pressed against you and you want more. More more more

You want to drown in Jungkook.

You want him to sink his teeth in and never let go.

Turning your head to the side, you let out a high-pitch whimper. You can’t stop the noises coming out of you, squeaking and struggling to stop the shaky quality but you feel so fucking good as he fucks into you.

“Feels so good,” you gasp at a particularly deep thrust.

“Yeah it fucking does,” Jungkook agrees, licking at your neck where your blood has dried. “You’re fucking squeezing my cock, Indy. You gonna cum?”

“Yes yes yes yes.”

“Fuck I love the way you look right now. Dreamed of this for years.”

“Pervert- fuuuuuck Jungkook.”

“Cum for me, yeah?”

You nod and whisper, “Bite me.”

He grunts and bends down, immediately sinking his teeth in. There’s no pain this time. Heat blooms through you, a white-hot flame that catches you so off guard you go rigid, cumming with a scream.

You float. Jungkook slows his movements, fucking you gentle through the white noise in your ears and the heavenly feeling of weightlessness. It takes you a few moments to come back down from your high, feeling the way Jungkook’s mouth pulls at your neck greedily.

Tired and spent, you grab Jungkook by the hips, fingers sliding against sweaty skin. He detaches from your neck and kisses you, messy with spit and blood again. You don’t care, moaning into him without abandon, digging your nails into his ass.

Jungkook loses his slow pace and begins to slam into you, kiss turning to teeth bumping into teeth. He growls into your mouth, the snarl sending shivers down your body as you hold into him.

He fucks you with wild abandon, chasing his high. His moans get higher pitched and you run your nails down his thighs, pushing yourself into him with whatever energy you can gather. “Cum for me,” you beg. “Give it to me, Jeon. Come on.”

With a loud moan, he buries himself into your shoulder, shuddering above you. His muscles clench as he cums and pants your name, shivering above you for a moment.

Gently, you run your hands up and down his sides, kissing the side of his fact. You can see his mouth is covered in blood- and it doesn’t nearly freak you out as much as you expect. Because it’s Jungkook, and even though this is weird and he just drank your blood… you’re his. You have been for a long time.

Jungkook pulls out of you and collapses next to you, an arm going around your waist. He peeks at you from his sweaty hair and you can’t help but feel your heart leap in your chest.

“You didn’t kill me,” you murmur. “Pretty impressive, Jeon.”

He grins, tired. “It’s because I love you.” He shifts so that he can hold your gaze in full. “I know I have a lot to figure out, and I understand if you don’t-“

“I want to,” you cut him off. “Because I love you too.”

“Yeah?” He brushes the hair from your face. You nod and nip at his wrist, making him laugh. “Maybe you’re a little bit of a vampire too, hmm?”

“I’ll leave that to you,” you yawn. Jungkook pulls you close and nuzzles you. You don’t care that your sweaty and sticky with cum and blood. You just want to be close to him.

And your happy. Despite how afraid you were while he was gone. Despite the fact that there is an entire unknown ahead of you. It’ll be okay because you have Jungkook and he has you.

“By the way,” Jungkook muses. “Were you researching how to kill Taehyung?”

You hesitate. “I was kind of mad.”

“I see. And now?”

“Jury is still out.”

He chuckles. “Love you, Indy.”

“Love you, Jeon.”

-

Dear Miss L/N,

Thank you for applying for our entry level Acquisition Agent position here at Ilum Agency. We have received many applicants for the position, and take careful considerations to presented research, experience in the field, and recommendations.

After reviewing your final research project regarding Vampirism: Throughout the Ages, and additionally receiving recommendations from Kim Namjoon and Min Yoongi, we are pleased to offer you the position. Upon written receipt of this offer, you will receive a formal offer letter with your job responsibilities, salary and additional benefits.

Warmest Regards,

The Director of Acquisitions

Ilum Agency

Sector 11

---

okay. i read this. then re-read this a second time. and then properly comprehended it in the first.

sheesh, bro. you packed a lot in there, didn’t you!?

i love you for it but man are you going to annoy so many people with this one 😂

anyway, let’s get into it:

1) matt/darling lounging on the couch. it was just first paragraph before flashback, but i felt relaxed? and then the simmering tension between them made itself known with his looks every now and then. sir, you are, unfortunately, not the main man here. quit giving me these moments of utter calm but smiles that promise anything but. how very dare you?

2) that kiss (and whenever you roll out the whole scene) was everything. it was in true sense their dynamic. him very barely holding back on showing her exactly how much he enjoys her, and her trusting him to know that she isn’t ready for that yet. but their intensity is everything. dude, I already am down bad for this guy, I have to remind myself this isn’t who I’m supposed to fall for. tragic. but what a choice! i always get reminded of the moment when it was just an idea and you and me were freaking out about it.

3) he’s so careful with her tho? the soft touches bringing her back to present, keeping her focused and alive instead of lost in her complicated feelings. (ewan looming over like menacing presence. deep breathe. it’s hot, but man, chill out! she feared disappointing him. no, darling. love, you didn’t and couldn’t disappoint anyone for just letting go and allowing yourself a moment. get behind me darling I’ll protect you!)

4) my chest felt so tight during that talk. which i kinda am pissed at ewan for. one, there were better ways he couldn’t approached this instead of shaming her for something he set the parameters for. two, he was drunk? three, boy you should’ve dropped on her door step if you really wanted to talk it out and not gaslight her instead.

5) idk but matt’s now letting his feelings known. it’s nice to see him be protective but wow, that was a tad intense? idk if it was proper of him, but it kinda highlighted that him and everyone else can clearly see how encroaching and entitled ewan acts with her, even if he technically has no right to? it’s the same with phia. she’s called him out about it too. also, she had comfort. so yay.

6) that phone call itself. I’m glad ewan finally said that he wants everything with her. but it felt too little too late? like he said all the words, but the way he said them felt so wrong, especially in that moment. like he was just expecting her to say yes. like he realised he hurt her but wanted her to go along with him bc he loves her.

7) okay. see. he did turn up at her place. this is what he should’ve done. right from the start. right after the first few times of their arrangement. this was the sweet kiss they both deserved. this made me happy. but I was pumped for the confrontation.

8) ewan mitchell, part time event planner and decorator. his roof top dates obsession needs to be studied. he’s like that guy who had thought of ideal date or watched his fav characters from his fav movie go on one and stuck to it. promised himself that when he finds the one, he’ll take them on as many roof top dates as possible. honesty cute and points to him for doing this. i don’t want to read too much into him but something about rooftops being out in the open yet secluded in the world gives me ‘on top of my world, all to see but none to witness’ feels. his version of private dates.

9) they FINALLY talked!! i can breathe now. It was a long time coming. do I condone darling lying and making that decision for him? no. but he did it too. and under the assumption that it will work out well for him in the future. like nah, mate. one word, and many wouldn’t even consider you. it’s dirty but it’s business. at least now you have franchise. even if you have to sell the romance beyond the screen. and the fact that she tells him now, that she’d understand but never be okay with a PR relationship. ‘all to see but none to witness’ she’s going to end up getting most of the flak from people. and ewan didn’t consider that. Also, what was the point of suggesting she gives him a chance when he isn’t even going to be there make good on his word? he’s going to be swamped with work and other related commitments. Ewan, babe you’re gonna stress yourself out.

10) and wow, dude. you’re genuinely making matt/darling a thing, even if brief. but it’s going to be real now. bold move, mate. Im all for it. I feel he fits the type of genuinely caring and openly affectionate partner she needs in this moment. someone stable. and that she won’t just ditch him kinda made me sigh in relief bc I would’ve been mad if she just ditched him. fan reaction would be interesting. my heart goes out for all the ewan/darling triggers. they had 376188 edits waiting to be posted, what will they do with them now? i wanna see how feral and unhinged matt/darling stans get. also ik there’s a few brave matt/ewan fighting for their lives rn. especially after that joint interview they did during the cast shoots.

11) I wanted to laugh at the last line. So bad. bc matt coined it first. like ewan’s stealing from, but not. and his jealousy will always be hilarious. he’s impossible and incredibly funny to me when he gets all ‘grrrr mine’ like okay pookie. put the plastic butter knife down and drink your juice.

This was a dramatic chapter. And for that you deserve a long forehead kiss. Thank you for this delicious meal. I enjoyed every second of it. I was tuned in like a new episode of my fave tv soap dropped.

can’t wait for the extra stuff. but but but since we all know what THAT poll result was, will we finally have a nocturnal files??

chemical override (9)

Ewan Mitchell x actress!reader

a/n: this was tricky to write I won't lie. I wanted it to be sweet but not unrealistic. Tension and angst filled but fair to our protagonists who have struggled through a lot. Oh well, you'll see. Enjoy!

series masterlist ▪︎ main masterlist

We find out what happened at the end of the reader's date with Matt. Can Ewan and his darling still mend their rift or will things be too far gone?

Matt sits next to you on your couch, as you enjoy one of his favourite films on the TV. He’s close – not too close that he’s flush against you – but enough that you can feel the warmth radiating from him. His arm is casually draped on the back of the seat, and his other hand often reaches up to run through his perfectly tousled hair.

As the film plays on, you can’t help but remember the intensity of last night’s kiss. Every time he turns to you, his disarming smile draws your gaze to his lips, lingering on the memory of their softness. 

The kiss had grown heated, leading him to press your back against your door. With a soft, frustrated growl, he had fished your forgotten key from your hand, unlocking your front door himself, while keeping a firm grip on your face, as if afraid the moment would fade if he let go. 

“Come here, love,” he had half-demanded, half-pleaded once you both entered the apartment. In a swift motion, he had picked you up in his arms and threw you down on the couch – the very same couch you two are lounging on right now. His touch had been intoxicating, his lips trailing hungry kisses down your neck while his hands roamed eagerly over your chest, your hips, and eventually, your backside. His muffled moans brought a heat to your core that almost made you let go and abandon all your inhibitions. Yet, as if on autopilot, or perhaps due to the image of a certain someone lingering in your mind, you pressed a hesitant hand to his chest and asked him to wait. 

His pupils were shot black, his lips swollen red, revealing the depth of his desire. He had reluctantly complied, burying his face in your neck and releasing a frustrated laugh that rumbled through his chest. You could see it - the figure of Ewan standing in the corner, arms crossed and lips curled in disappointment. Tsk tsk, he seemed to chide, leaning against the wall, judging you.

Oh sod off, you almost grumbled aloud, covering it up by running a hand down your face. This is my moment. 

And that moment came and went. The night had drifted away as you and Matt talked for hours, the connection deepening with each passing minute. He left early in the morning with a promise to return in the evening, bearing food and wine. “I just enjoy being in your company,” he had shared, and he was true to his word. 

Now, as he reaches for your bare knee, you thank your lucky stars that you chose to wear shorts.

“Where were you just then?” he asks, his smile playful.

“Hmm?” 

“You were lost to me for a moment there,” he says, eyes sparkling with curiosity. “Care to share what occupies your thoughts?”

Your phone buzzes on the side table, cutting through the tension. It’s a sudden lifeline – an excuse not to come up with some witty response that doesn’t reveal how fixated you had been on the kiss that nearly turned into something more carnal. Or how it had been the thought of Ewan that kept you from pulling him into your bedroom. 

You give Matt a look, silently telling him to hold on a moment, then you glance down at the screen which displays that all-too-familiar Ewan One-Eye, and you realise that you might need a longer while.

Matt raises an eyebrow. “Are you going to get that?” His tone is light and teasing, but something darker flashes across his gaze, something you haven’t seen in him before – it seemed like suspicion, or maybe even jealousy. 

You push it out of your mind, convinced you are just getting ahead of yourself.

You try to match the intensity of his gaze for a second before letting out a sigh. “Yeah, give me a minute.”

“A minute,” he echoes, index finger held up as if to confirm your time limit. 

With the phone pressed to your ear, you retreat into your bedroom, leaving the door open just an inch. Your hello barely stumbles from your lips before the familiar sound of Ewan’s voice greets you, rougher than usual.

“Darling,” he breathes, his voice low and raspy, “I think we need to talk.”

His tone is sombre, so unlike the usual cadence of your late-night calls, made for the usual purpose of making good on the arrangement. Those calls inevitably result in the two of you stumbling blind into the night, tangled in sheets and each other’s arms. 

“What is it?” you respond, unable to mask your nerves.

“About us,” he says, his voice slurring somewhat. Is he drunk? “We need to talk about us,” he repeats, as if he needs to convince himself just as much.

“What do you mean?” you ask quickly, getting defensive. You have a feeling that this isn’t going to end well. “What is there to talk about?”

“You know exactly what,” he snaps, unable to keep his emotions in check. “This… whatever we are.”

“Do we have to do this now?”

“Yes, now. Why not? You’re not busy, are you?”

“No… no, but – ”

“Okay then,” he presses on. “Let’s talk. I’ll start with… the fact that it didn’t sit right with me, seeing you on that date with Matt.”

“How did you see – ” The realisation dawns on you. “ – of course. Photogs.”

“Like I need their photos to know what’s happening. I know it was a date,” he spits, each word laced with frustration. 

You shut your eyes for a moment, trying not to let him get a rise out of you. “Yes, because I told you. I’m not hiding anything, Mitchell.”

“Is that supposed to make it better?” His voice rises, the bitterness sharper now. “You think honesty makes it hurt any less? You’re everywhere with him. It’s like... you don’t even care.”

The ache in his voice catches you off guard. You clench the phone, fighting back the surge of guilt threatening to overwhelm you, reminding yourself that you have nothing to feel guilty about. “What do you want me to do, Ewan? Push everyone away? Completely ignore this person who shows me genuine interest? Is that what you expect?”

“Stop,” he interrupts, his voice cracking slightly. “Just... stop.”

“You’re the one who made the rules, remember?” you snap, your own anger rising to meet his. “You were the one who said I wouldn’t be yours. That’s exactly what I’m doing. Not being yours.”

“Fuck,” he hisses under his breath, “I know that.”

“Then why are you acting like this? Like I’m betraying you?”

“Because,” he says finally, his voice raw, trembling. “Because I want you to be mine. Goddamn it, I want you to be.”

The air leaves your lungs in a single, sharp exhale, your heart pounding in your chest. You stand frozen, the words echoing in your mind, too much and too little all at once.

“What?” The word barely makes it past your lips, but it’s all you can manage.

A hollow laugh escapes him, strained and bitter. “It was stupid of me to say otherwise,” he murmurs. “I never stopped wanting you, not once. Not since you first smiled at me. I’ve always been yours.”

The confession hangs between you, finally out in the open. You let out a pained breath, and grip the phone tighter, needing to anchor yourself to something.

“I don’t know what you want me to say, Ewan,” you whisper.

“Say you’ll let me fix this,” he breathes. “Say you want me too.”

Your mind reels, torn between the ache for him and the reality that Matt is waiting just outside the door. But in this moment, it’s Ewan’s voice that consumes you – the yearning in his voice, the raw confession of someone who’s done with pretending not to care. 

“I – ”

“Hey, love.” Matt’s voice cuts through your thoughts like a blade, and you see him casually leaning against the doorframe. His tone is light, but the look in his eyes says he knows something is off. “I thought we said one minute.”

“Who’s that?” Ewan’s sharp question cracked through the phone.

“It’s – ”

“Why don’t you kindly tell Ewan that it’s rude to keep you from company?” Matt approaches slowly, his voice growing more pointed with every step.

“Matt?” Ewan’s voice is icy, his frustration palpable even through the phone. “Matt’s there?”

“Hey there, mate!” Matt calls out, loud enough for Ewan to hear, his tone overly cheerful, completely at odds with the atmosphere thickening in the room.

Your stomach clenches. The situation is getting out of hand. Fast. 

“Your date was yesterday,” Ewan mutters, the pieces starting to fall into place. “Did he stay the night? Is that why he’s still there? Did you – ”

“Yes,” you blurt out, the truth tumbling from your lips before you can stop it. Panic flashes through you. “I mean, yes, he stayed the night, but it’s not what you think – ”

“I don’t think you owe him an explanation, love.” Matt’s voice drops into a low whisper, leaning into you as if staking his claim. 

Ewan’s voice darkens, the sarcasm biting. “Not what I think? Really? So... what? He didn’t touch you? He didn’t – ” His words falter, but you can feel the unspoken questions twisting the knife deeper. Did he fuck you? Did he lay in your bed, his arms around you? Did he touch what was mine?

You feel the heat rise to your face, the sting of his accusations sharper than you expected. “Listen, Ewan, we just went on a date, that’s all. He came back to mine, but we didn’t – ”

“I get it,” he cuts you off., the bitterness dripping from his words. “I understand, darling. Like you said, this is what I signed up for. Who am I to stop you?”

“That’s not fair,” you whisper. “You can’t make me feel wretched for simply going – ”

“For what? For living your life?” Ewan interrupts, his tone bitter but resigned. “I told you I wouldn’t stand in your way. So go on, enjoy it. I’ll leave you to it.”

“Ewan,” you sigh, blind to Matt’s disapproving look. “Just wait.”

Ewan’s voice is soft now, almost too soft, like he’s already slipping away. “It’s alright,” he murmurs, but the hollow sound of his reassurance feels like a knife twisting deeper. “We’ll talk another time.”

The line between you feels like it’s fraying, each second stretching longer, heavier, with neither of you able to say what you really mean.

“Okay,” you whisper, though it feels like a surrender.

“Okay,” he echoes, the finality settling in the silence that follows. 

For a few excruciating seconds, neither of you hangs up. You can hear his breathing – steady but strained – and in your mind, you see his face, that familiar frustrated pout tugging at his lips, the way his jaw clenches when he’s trying to hold something back.

But Matt is standing right there, his gaze piercing through the quiet moment you’re desperately clinging to. With a trembling hand, you lower the phone, ending the call. 

“Sorry, Smithy,” you weakly smile, in considerably lower spirits than before you entered your bedroom.

Matt studies you for a moment, his face unreadable, and the weight of everything you’ve left unsaid presses down on your shoulders. “No need to apologise, love,” he says, gently slinging an arm around you and pulling you to him. “Let’s go, you’re missing the best parts of the film.”

The next day, the events from the previous night still weighed down on you. Ewan’s words echo in your mind when you go about your routine. 

When you wake up and brush your teeth – “Darling, I think we need to talk.”

When you make your cup of morning joe and help yourself to some breakfast – “... I want you to be mine.”

When you try to focus on the scripts for season three, settling into the worn comfort of your couch. – “Say you’ll let me fix this. Say you want me too.”

By late afternoon, a call with Phia offers some reprieve. You confide in her about the recent happenings with Ewan and Matt. She alludes to being in contact with Ewan, and ‘making sure his head is screwed on straight’.

“He can’t be like this,” she passionately exclaims. “He can’t act all macho and possessive when he’s been treating you like a throwaway lay in the sack. I mean, no offence, I love you but you know what I mean.”

“Yeah, I know what you mean.” you laugh despite yourself, already feeling lighter.

“You do you, my darling,” she reassures, before reminding you, “But listen, he told you his truth. More or less. I think it’s your turn to tell him what you really think, don’t you?”

“You’re right, Phi,” you admit quietly. “I guess I’ll have to start from the beginning.”

An hour after the call, you find yourself laying down on your bed. Sansa, curled up on Ewan’s side, is doing little to help. She nestles on top of his pillow, her paws digging into the soft fabric as if to anchor herself to his memory. Either it’s due to the events that transpired, or your mind is playing tricks on you, but she reminds you of Ewan with each passing day. 

Ewan, with whom she quickly decided to replace you as her favourite human the moment she got a good sniff of his hoodie. 

She meows softly, as if privy to your thoughts, as if to say that she misses him too. The little squishball of a traitor. 

Then she suddenly raises her head, in that feline manner of being alert to something that eludes you. She scrambles out of the bed, her small form darting out of the room with a purpose, her persistent meows filling the apartment. You’re about to tell her to shush, when the buzzer rings. Your heart skips a beat. Someone has been let up already – someone familiar enough to bypass the usual formalities. 

You pad to the door in your worn pyjamas, exchanging a knowing glance with Sansa, who waits by the entrance like a sentinel.

“Meow,” your turncoat companion looks at you briefly, then at the door. Open the door, you silly human, is what you’re certain she would demand if she could form the words. 

“I know, I know.” She follows close behind as you unlock your door to reveal your visitor. Sansa’s favourite person in the entire world. 

When the door swings open, there he is – Ewan One-Eye. Standing tall in his black leather jacket and worn jeans, his hair returned to his natural, darker shade you prefer on him. Your breath hitches, your gaze dropping to the delicate bouquet of white roses he holds in one hand.

“Hello, darling,” he murmurs, that familiar smile tugging at his lips. “I come bearing a white flag.”

Before you can respond, Sansa lets out an elated meow, bounding toward him like he’s a long-lost friend. Ewan snorts softly. “Hey, Sansa,” he greets her, crouching slightly to give her a small scratch behind the ears. Then, with a glance up at you, he adds, “Think you can convince your mum to let daddy inside?”

You roll your eyes, unable to fight the smile that’s already tugging at your lips. One smile from him and your resolve is at risk of unravelling completely. 

“A white flag, huh?” you ask, stepping aside to let him in. But you barely have time to close the door before he leans in, catching you by surprise with a firm kiss. It’s not rushed or desperate, but there’s a weight to it – a need that hums beneath the surface.

When he pulls back, you realise he’s slipped the bouquet into your hand. You stare down at the roses, his symbolic white flag.

“These are for you,” he says, his voice soft but insistent, his eyes searching yours. “I, uhhh, I wanted to apologise for being… you know.”

“A dick,” you tease, raising an eyebrow. “I know.”

He scoffs, shaking his head with a small grin. “Well, don’t hold back, darling. But yes, I shouldn’t have gotten on your case over… him.”

“Him?” you ask playfully. “Don’t worry about it, One-Eye. I always knew you and your uncle had bad blood.”

His eyes narrow, his smirk faltering for a second, and you watch as his gaze flickers down your body, slowly taking in the sight of you in your comfortable attire. It’s a familiar look – the way his eyes sweep over every patch of exposed skin with barely veiled hunger. Normally, he would’ve made a move by now, reached out to brush a stray lock of hair behind your ear, or run his thumb lightly across your bottom lip. But today, his gaze lingers longer than usual – right at your neck and exposed collarbones, like he’s searching for something. Or someone else's unwelcome mark.

You can practically see the gears turning in his head, the surge of jealousy he’s trying so hard to suppress. But the way his jaw tightens gives him away.

“Why aren’t you dressed?” he asks casually, breaking the silence.

“Excuse me?”

“Oh well, this is fine, I suppose.” He shrugs, eyes flashing with mischief. “You look beautiful in pyjamas… or a fucking ball gown.”

“Wait, what are you talking about?” 

“I’m taking you out. We’re going on a date, my darling.”

You openly gape at him, stunned by the sudden shift of events. “I’m sorry, did I miss your memo or – ”

“It’s a surprise,” he cheekily grins. “So, you know… surprise! And all that.” 

You cross your arms, trying to suppress the warmth blooming in your chest. “So you’re fine with taking me out on dates now?”

“Mhmm.” He takes another step, and his voice drops lower, the teasing edge in it sharp enough to make your breath catch. “I realised you deserve a little more than I’ve been giving. The bloody arrangement we have isn’t enough for me. It never has been. I’ve been too stupid to see it, and maybe I’ve got competition now, but you better believe that I’m not backing down easily.” 

He leans in slightly, adding in a sarcastic tone, “Especially not to Daemon Targaryen.”

“Took you this long to come to your senses, huh.” you say, biting back a smile. “It took another man successfully sweeping me off my feet – ”

“Okay, now,” he looks away, his lips curling. “No need to rub it in.” 

You can’t help but laugh softly at his wounded pride. “So what now?” you ask. 

“Why don’t you let me sweep you off your feet this time?” he offers. “With each and every single string attached.”

He offers something real, something more. Something resembling what you once shared, and perhaps even better this time. 

“Fine. I’ll get dressed,” you relent, backing toward your bedroom.

“Can I watch?” The boy has the audacity to call after you, his signature smirk in full display. 

“Ewan Robert Mitchell,” you click your tongue in mock disapproval, eyes narrowing at him, “why don’t you buy me dinner first?”

The cab rolls to a stop in front of a familiar modernised brownstone, and you turn to look at him suspiciously. “You brought me back to your place?”

Without a word, he slides out of the cab, quickly ambling to your side and opening the door for you. “My lady.” He offers his hand and you take it with an amused look in your eyes, still awaiting an explanation.

You ask again, “Mitchell, did you just lure me back to your apartment?”

“Yes, you’ve cracked it,” he smirks. “But don’t worry, I won’t just be seducing you into my bed. As tempting as that might be.”

He leads you inside, and when you step into the elevator, you notice he presses the button for the topmost floor – not his apartment. Your brow furrows. “What are you up to, Mitchell?”

“Patience is a virtue, darling,” he quips, his hand massaging the small of your back. 

The elevator dings to signal that you’ve reached your floor. He says, “Remember our first date? Up on that roof in LA?”

“How could I forget?”

“Well, I thought we could pay tribute to that memory.” The doors open and you’re met with the sight of a breathtaking rooftop pavilion, softly lit with hanging lights strung between metal beams, casting a golden glow that dances across the polished stone floor. It feels like an amplified echo of your first date, everything sharper and more vivid.

A small table for two sits in the centre, adorned with candles and more flowers, the atmosphere far more intimate. A bottle of wine sits in the centre, already uncorked, with two delicate crystal glasses waiting beside it. 

You blink, surprised and touched. “You did all this?”

He comes up behind you, his hands resting on your shoulders, his breath warm against your ear. “Did you really think I’d just settle for my couch and Netflix?”

“Honestly? I did,” you tease, leaning back slightly into him.

He chuckles, low and deep. “Well, I have to keep you on your toes, don’t I?” Then, more seriously, he adds, “I wanted to make up for weeks of mere stolen moments, you know?”

He moves to stand in front of you, and he asks, “Do you think I could steal a kiss, darling?” he asks, still teasing, but with an undertone of vulnerability. Do you like it? Do you approve of everything? his eyes seemed to say.

Slowly, you close the gap, your lips brushing his in the softest of touches.

It’s tentative at first, as if testing the waters, but then his hand comes up to cradle the side of your face, deepening the kiss. There’s no more teasing now, just raw, unfiltered emotion in the way his lips move against yours.

“I guess I didn’t need to steal it after all,” he whispers, a hint of a smile in his voice.

“No,” you say, mirroring his expression, “that one was all yours, baby.”

After dinner, which was nothing short of extraordinary – Ewan had gone all out, employing the exclusive restaurant from the ground floor of the building to cater the night’s meal – the two of you settle into the rooftop’s plush seating area. 

The conversation shifts naturally, easing into shared memories and playful banter. You both laugh about that disastrous karaoke night during your first press tour together, and how he barely made it through his favourite ‘For Whom The Bell Tolls’ without collapsing into a fit of embarrassed and drunken giggles. Tom, of course, relentlessly made fun of him for it, stepping into his role like an actual older brother. 

You wish you could stay in these moments, ignoring all the things left unsaid. But the weight of those things hangs heavy, demanding to be addressed.

“Listen, I have to tell you something.” The words almost catch in your throat as you search for the right way to begin.

“What is it, darling?”

“When I… When I broke things off between us, I wasn’t entirely honest with you. I know I said I wanted you to take on the film, and I did, I really did. But when I mentioned that thing about Jacob, about wanting to see where things would go with him, about feeling something for him… none of that was true. I just needed to say something that would convince you. Something that would keep you away, and hopefully change your mind about taking on the film.”

His expression turns stony. “You lied to me.”

“I lied for you,” you say, trying to keep your voice firm. “I know how important acting is for you. It’s been your dream ever since you can remember, and I didn’t want you to jeopardise that dream for my sake.”

“That wasn’t your choice to make,” he snaps, his voice tight with frustration. “I gave that up for us.”

“I never asked you to!” you nearly shout, the weight of it all spilling over. “You did that for me, I know you did. And you didn’t even tell me.”

“I would do it all again. I would make that same choice again. For you.”

“You made that choice all about me, without even consulting me,” you shoot back, the hurt evident in your voice. “If something went wrong with your career, I wouldn’t be able to live with myself. Knowing that I caused it.”

“You wouldn’t have,” he says, shaking his head, “But you were wrong to lie to me.”

“And you were wrong in not including me in your decision,” you retort, the back and forth bickering reminding you of playground taunting.

“So? You did the exact same thing.”

“I guess we’re both fucking hypocrites, aren’t we? Anyway, things fell into place. You’re all set for that franchise. And soon you have to play at being in love with someone else.”

“I don’t want to – ” he starts, but you cut him off. 

“You’re not quitting,” you say in finality, “Not for me.”

“Look at you now making decisions for me. How bloody generous of you,” he says venomously, all traces of softness gone from his voice. 

You stand in a huff, unable to take the arrogance he is showing you. 

The silence that follows is heavy, almost unbearable. It’s a silence filled with the unspoken frustrations and regrets of two people who thought they had control over the situation, only to find themselves in a web that is already far too tangled.

“I’m sorry,” he says, now standing close behind you.

“I’m sorry too,” you echo his sentiment weakly, casting your gaze to the night sky to find some solace and finding none. The only comfort would be in his eyes, but they might be a bit too cold for your liking at the moment. 

“I have to be in LA in a week,” he says in a flat line. “Pre-production for the film.”

“Ewan… I can’t just stand by while you have to be someone’s pretend boyfriend. We both know that these things have a way of making things messy.”

“Hmm,” he says, blankly staring out into the distance. “It's too late for me to quit anyway. Already signed on the dotted line.”

“So I guess we both know where we stand.”

“I guess we do,” he responds, his tone almost resigned.

“Matt asked me to be his date to his friend’s film screening,” you reveal, “and I think I’ll go.”

“Do you really… you and him, is that… ?” His question hangs in the air, fraught with unspoken jealousy and hope.

“I do like him,” you admit, holding back from the expanded truth, the addition of ‘but I love you’. 

“And you’re not just lying again for my sake?” he presses, eyes locking onto yours.

You glare at him. “Really?”

“Right,” he mutters, his shoulders slumping. “My bad.”

“I wish I could say I’m sorry for proposing no strings attached between us,” he starts, turning to face you, his voice tinged with regret. “Maybe I am, because I see now how it hurt you. But the truth is, I needed you – desperately. I needed you, but I couldn’t let go of my pride. I don’t regret having you, feeling you, holding you... even if it was all wrapped in that fucking mess. It was all I could manage, darling, and I’m sorry.”

You don’t even notice the stray tear that slips down your cheek, but Ewan is quick to brush it off with his thumb. His eyes also well with tears, and he smiles ruefully. 

You keep his hand pressed to your face, shutting your eyes for a moment. He leans in until his forehead meets yours, and the two of you stay there, two hearts hanging on the line.

“So you’ll go,” you say.

“I’ll be back in a few weeks,” he replies.

“We’ll be okay, Mitchell,” you say, leaning back to look at him. No matter what, in whatever capacity, you want Ewan in your life. Even if circumstances dictate that you can’t be with him. 

“Hmm.” His gaze sharpens. “And Matt? What about him?”

You hesitate, grappling with the truth that you’re not even certain of. “I can’t just push him aside. I owe it to myself to see where things go.”

He sneers, his eyes narrowing. “You think a few weeks away will change how I feel? If you want to explore things with him, fine, but don’t expect me to just back down.”

You meet his gaze with equal intensity. “And don’t think that things will just magically fall right back into place between us.”

“No.” He nods just the once. “But remember something, darling.”

“What is that, Mitchell?”

“You were my Alyna first.”

Taglist: @namelesslosers @skymoonandstardust @valyrianflower @luckyfirebasement @omgsuperstarg @elissanatok @callsignwidow @sinistersnakey49 @darkwriteracademia @yyrzmomo @queenofshinigamis @luvaerina @shamelessblazecrown @mirandastuckinthe80s @elleinex0x0 @pierrotlu @aegonswife @strangersunghoon @lunampacheco @writer-ann-artist @gaiaea @of-swords-and-words @ateliefloresdaprimavera @m00n5t0n3 @helaenaluvr @peachysunrize @annie-ruk @luvly-writer @ananas26t @athenafaes @lovelyteenagebeard @mamawiggers1980 @moongirl27 @katherine93 @barnes70stark @justbelljust @cloudroomblog @somestufftoday @esposadomd @girl-in-the-chairs-void @insideyourimagination @vyctorya @wildrangers @onlyrealjoy @hotdismylife @thepurplecrown @just-fics-station @clarkysblog @urmomsgirlfriend1 @misfitbimbosblog (continued in comments ... )

Some notes in the margins...

When I said sweet, I hope you know that this is what I meant. Sweet.. and bitter, essentially. Like a good cocktail. A balance is needed 🍸

Cut scenes include whippets, TGC, and the next Matt x darling outing which is mentioned at the end here. You'll see those in part 10.

Well, well, well... now that everything has been laid out on the line, it's open frickin season, babies!!! Anything can happen. Woohoo 🤍

PS. this doesn't show the true outcome of THE poll (which I have already made up my mind over). That's still to be written. Watch out :)

PRE-BOYFRIEND!NAMJOON who tells you in detail about his days, a loving smile beautifying his lips. it didn't matter if he was in practice, creating art or in another country, Namjoon always found time to write tender words about his day and how he only thought about telling you every detail. “i’m going to have lunch now. the rehearsal went well. but i confess that i only thought about how you cheer for me when i perform.”

PRE-BOYFRIEND!NAMJOON who looks for new museums and exhibitions to make you see and love some art. even though he was passionate about art, Namjoon couldn't deny that his eyes always wandered to your curious and lively figure, pure devotion and admiration shining brightly in Namjoon's smile and eyes. “sorry, i was a little distracted today. i couldn’t help but notice that your soul is the most beautiful work of art ever created.”

PRE-BOYFRIEND!NAMJOON who starts writing his feelings about you in a small black notebook. illegible handwriting and loose thoughts decorated Namjoon's book, his lips drawing a perfect curve as he thought about how you would react when he completed the notebook and gave it to you as a gift. “here, a little of me. a little of my soul. a side of me that is only safe with you.”

PRE-BOYFRIEND!NAMJOON who likes it when you surprise him at concerts, smile so big that it almost consumed his entire face. it was something insignificant for many, something so small and just ‘good’, but for Namjoon, you lit up the whole place and eased all his nerves and fears. “thank you. thank you. thank you. i can't say thank you enough. you can’t even imagine how much my heart needed to see you.”

PRE-BOYFRIEND!NAMJOON who knows how you like to drink your coffee or tea and always knows what sweets you prefer to eat on more aggressive days. it didn't take long for Namjoon to memorize your drink order, your favorite cakes coming up so easily that it was impossible for him not to remember something you liked. “you seemed a little down. i just had to bring what you needed. it's the least i can do.”

PRE-BOYFRIEND!NAMJOON who liked to be seen with you, feeling proud of all the looks men gave you. yes, you were with him, next to him, laughing at his jokes, talking to him — Namjoon's eyes shone when he realized the envy that others felt for seeing you so happy next to him. “what? i just find it amusing seeing so many men looking at you and knowing that you only focus on me. it makes me feel good.”

PRE-BOYFRIEND!NAMJOON who knew from an early time that it was love, and showed his devotion to you in every word spoken to you. ethereal poems escaped Namjoon's lips when the two of you shared the night, shy glances and passionate smiles, eternal promises to be sealed amid caresses. “our history will forever be remembered. written in the stars and recited by the gods. our love will not be forgotten.”

---

soft. content. and absolutely lovely.

it’s such a ‘still in love with you, will continue to be in love with you, forever’ moment.

they are very sweet and soft with each other. they are also married and still have so many things that they want to keep exploring about the other. new and old alike.

sigh. loved this.

melt, jungkook x reader

SUMMARY — "I can't tell when your hair ends and mine begins"

PAIRING — jungkook x reader

GENRE — one shot, fluffffff 

WORD COUNT — idk, but not a lot hahahah.

WARNINGS — I didn’t proofread !!

The room was quiet, and not a sound could be heard from the usually buzzing streets of the city. A soft glow, coming from the bedside lamp, filled the space, casting long shadows on the wall. The entire space smelled like coconut and vanilla, and you mentally made a note to buy the same detergent.

Your heart beats a steady rhythm, a counterpoint to the quietude. You'd just slipped into bed, feeling relaxed after taking a shower. You had a long day at work and all you wanted was to be in your lover's arms.

The world outside faded as you nestled into the warmth of the sheets, and Jungkook’s arm naturally found its way around you. You lie there, close enough to feel the warmth radiating from his body, but with a space between you that feels infinite in its intimacy.

You gently grabbed his right hand. Large, calloused palms, yet with soft, delicate fingers. You first traced the lines that tell stories, those lines that could tell you his entire fate and you secretly wished those same palms made you part of Jungkook's future forever. Then, you move to the tiny scars that tell stories of scraped knees and youthful adventures. His eyes are closed, a serene mask over the emotions you know churn within him. 

As your fingertips glide over his skin, you feel a tenderness you haven't felt before. This is a sacred space, a universe you're just beginning to explore. A universe you're grateful to be able to explore. 

His eyes flutter open, and you see a flash of vulnerability in their depths. It's a small scar, a delicate white line curving just beneath his eye. “Where did you get this?” you ask softly, your voice barely audible in the quiet room.

Jungkook's eyes flicker with a hint of amusement before turning serious. "Oh, this one," he traces the scar with his thumb,"it's from when I was a kid. Fell off my bike, scraped my face pretty bad." A small laugh escapes his lips. "I looked like a pirate for a while."

You chuckle softly, imagining him as a tiny pirate. "A pirate, huh? I can definitely see that." Your fingers trace the scar, feeling its smooth texture. It's a testament to his past, a part of the story that has shaped him

"I guess being a pirate toughened you up," you tease, a soft smile playing on your lips. He grins, his eyes crinkling at the corners. There's a boyish charm about him that's both endearing and captivating. 

Your fingers continue their exploration, moving from the scar to the delicate curve of his eyebrow, then to the bridge of his nose. His skin is warm beneath your touch, and you find yourself drawn deeper into this intimate moment. You can feel your heart racing. It's funny how he got your heart beating this fast even after being married for 4 years.

Jungkook's breathing deepens, his chest rising and falling rhythmically. You close your eyes, focusing on the sensation of his presence. The room is filled with a quiet intensity, a shared secret between the two of you. 

As your fingers trace the outline of his lips, you feel a surge of desire. You want to kiss him, to taste the sweetness of his mouth. But you hesitate, unsure if this is the right moment. The air between you is thick with unspoken words, and you're afraid of ruining this perfect intimacy. 

A gentle smile spreads across Jungkook's face as your fingers continue their exploration. His eyes, once filled with a playful glint, now soften, mirroring the tranquility of the room. You can feel the tension melting away from his body as your touch becomes a soothing balm. 

The silence between you is filled with a comforting warmth, a silent conversation of souls. You trace the line of his jaw, feeling the gentle stubble against your fingertips. It's a contrast to the smoothness of his skin.

Your heart skips a beat as your fingers brush against his lips. They are soft and inviting, a promise of sweetness to come. You hesitate for a moment, your breath catching in your throat. The anticipation is almost unbearable. 

Jungkook's eyes flutter open, and he looks at you with a mixture of desire and tenderness. His gaze holds you captive, and you feel a surge of courage. Slowly, you lean in, your lips brushing against his. It's a soft, gentle kiss, a whisper of affection. 

As the kiss deepens, you feel a surge of electricity coursing through your veins. Jungkook's arms tighten around you,pulling you closer. You melt into his embrace, surrendering to the moment.

The world fades away as you lose yourself in the magic of this connection. Time stands still, and all that matters is the two of you, lost in a world of pure bliss. 

Jungkook's gazes at you with a mixture of desire and tenderness. His breath is warm against your lips as he whispers, "You have the softest touch," his voice husky with sleep. 

A small smile plays on his lips as he pulls you closer, his arms tightening around you. "I could stay like this forever," he murmurs, his voice a gentle caress. You looked at him with a fluttering heart and stars in your eyes, "we have forever," you whisper back, your voice barely audible. 

Jungkook's eyes soften, and he pulls you even closer, his thumb tracing gentle circles on your cheek. "As long as it's with you," he murmurs, his voice filled with a depth of emotion that takes your breath away.

You decide to turn off the lamp, reaching for the switch with a drowsy sigh. Just as your fingers brush the cool metal, Jungkook stirs. His grip tightens around you, his voice a husky murmur against your ear.

"Don't," he pleads, a hint of playfulness in his voice. "Let's stay like this a little while longer."

A sleepy smile spreads across your face. "But it's getting late," you whisper, your voice thick with contentment.

He nuzzles closer, his warm breath tickling your neck. "Not for us," he murmurs. "you said we'll stay like this forever," he pouted

With a contented sigh, you let your hand fall back onto his chest. The soft glow of the lamp bathes the room in a warm, inviting light.

In all honestly, the light bothered you, but there isn't anything that would get you out of lover's arms. So, as an attempt to block the light, you buried your head in his chest. The steady rhythm of his heartbeat lulling you towards sleep, a sound you'd like to hear forever.

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HUSBAND!NAMJOON who writes you a song as a marriage proposal. as intelligent as Namjoon could be, when he was nervous it was difficult for him to express himself verbally and he knew perfectly well that in that request he would run over every word and choke on them; that's why Namjoon decided to open his soul in the most natural way for him: the song was small, brief, just a verse and a chorus, but every word was beautiful, peppered with the love he felt, ringing with a melody of hope from an eternal future by your side. “i’m not very good with words, i hope the song is enough for you.”

HUSBAND!NAMJOON who hires a painter to portray your special day. yes, photographs were beautiful, faster, saving every moment and action they could; but, for Namjoon, there was magic on a canvas, in how each brushstroke was like a fragment of your dreams and hopes, the vivid colors complementing each other and appearing as an omen for your married life. “i think a portrait of us is more intimate. i think it’s with oil paints that you can clearly see our love and happiness.”

HUSBAND!NAMJOON who writes your initials in the corners of his music sheets. Namjoon felt like it was nonsense, a small, insignificant and quite embarrassing detail, but, in a way, he couldn't stop himself from doing it; like a lucky charm, your initials decorated the various pages with a touch of magic, as if the letters designated for you blessed Namjoon's mind and all his work. “i know it doesn't make much sense, but i feel like it really helps me. at least it always gives me strength when i see your initials in my art.”

HUSBAND!NAMJOON who gives you a bouquet of flowers every monday, even when he's on tour. Namjoon wanted to make sure you had a good week, he wanted to motivate you to get through five more days of intense work and complex people; so, he came up with a simple solution that, in addition to filling your living room with sweet smells of passion and longing, also brought with it bright colors that painted the gray days that could lie ahead. “i hope you have a good day today. don't forget that the world only makes sense because you are in it. i love you.”

HUSBAND!NAMJOON who goes on sunset walks with you. if when you were dating the two of you shared the sunrise on a bicycle, now in your marriage your attention has turned to the sunset, as if a natural representation of your love — at sunrise your love was still blooming, but now, already together with promises and vows of eternity, your love was based on a sea of reds and oranges that forever warmed your hearts. “i feel so complete with you. i still can't believe we're actually married. you just make my life better.”

HUSBAND!NAMJOON who takes you on surprise dates. it wasn't because you were married that Namjoon was going to stop dating you; without telling you, or simply spontaneously, Namjoon would take you to dinners or aquarium, ceramics classes or evening picnics, the possibilities seemed endless and Namjoon swore to you that he would explore each one of them with you. “just because we’re married doesn’t mean the romance is over. i hope you know that i will take you on dates even if we are eighty and use canes.”

HUSBAND!NAMJOON who swore an eternity of love for you. in any adversity, Namjoon promised you that your love would not weaken; in any opportunity, Namjoon promised you that your love would only grow; in any future, Namjoon promised you that your love would never end, for you were chosen by the stars, blessed by the gods — there was nothing that could ruin your love. “the dust of the universe are crumbs of our love that could not fit into our hearts in this life.”

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