The Boy Who Swallowed A Star

The boy who swallowed a star

Act On It

Summary: You learn that the cute barista you’ve been crushing on might have an…otherworldly disposition after you accidentally cut yourself.

A college, coffee shop, and vampire AU all in one!

Pairing: Yoongi x Reader

Genre: Fluff, Angst, Smut, and anything in between

Word Count: 15,639

A/N: This is the longest oneshot I’ve ever written. I found this vampire!yoongi fic sitting in my WIPS back at the start of the year. I did my best to pick it up and rewrite the story into something interesting.

Hopefully you guys like it.

In your opinion, college is a fairly safe space. You go to classes, get along well with friends, enjoy sitting near the pond in the middle of your campus when the weather is nice. There are rarely any crimes—and when there are, it’s a stolen bike, a petty fight, or an…“attack”.

But! Attacks are rare.

Hell, sometimes they aren’t even acknowledged. Not everyone chooses to believe in folklore—that vampires are real and walking among us.

Some people are disbelievers because they’re too scared to give into the reality that every day they might be around someone who could pin them down and steal their blood in a split second. Others just…think it’s a hoax—the few and far between vampire attacks, that is.

“Those people just want attention. They can fake fang marks like that with special effects make-up.”

Society seems to be torn on their existence—just as some people refute the existence of ghosts or spirits, or even god and higher powers. You for one—well…you believe. At a younger age, in an event you’ll never forget—you had fallen off a swing at the park and gouged open your knee on the turf. In what seemed like a flash a shadow had appeared above you—a man looking to be in his late 20’s to early 30’s. When you glanced up he had knelt down—his eyes meeting your curious and slightly frightened stare. His eyes were crimson, and it had seemed as if his irises were pulsing with….with…

“You need to be more careful,” he had told you, his Adam’s apple bobbing heavily against his throat. He hadn’t bothered to help you up, instead stepping back— fingers trembling near his sides. “You can’t afford to get hurt around others if you keep smelling like that.”

And then he was gone. But despite his disappearance, his words stuck with you—lingered in the back of your mind for days—weeks, even.

What do I smell like? You had wondered, but had never bothered to search for the answer. Anytime you pondered potentially pricking your finger or making a harmless little cut, immediately those crimson eyes popped into your mind, and you found yourself weak at the knees—unable to follow through.

Years later, you’ve nearly forgotten about that man at the park—those deep red eyes and resounding words. You’re a college student—you’ve got papers to write, tests to take, applications to fill out—you don’t have time to worry about things such as ghosts, or higher powers, or vampires. As if. The only thing on your mind is class and the coffee you get every morning to help you through the day.

Also the cute, yet bored faced barista at the campus coffee shop you seem to face nearly 7 days a week, regardless of the time you leave to get your coffee. He’s charming in his own right—dark hair, styled a little lazily, and dressed in casual clothing that perfectly accentuates his body. He’s minimal effort good-looking, and you can’t believe how much you’re attracted to him sometimes.

“Morning,” you greet with a smile when you step up to the register, the line advancing forward. He doesn’t bother to look up, already hitting buttons on the screen in front of him and reaching to grab a cup to write your name on.

“Usual, right?” he asks in a low voice, sounding groggy, and you stare at the top of his head as he bends to grab a marker that had fallen on the floor.

“Tired?” you respond instead. He grunts.

“Long night.”

You hum in understanding as you watch him press the marker to the cup, however, instead of writing your name, with sloppy handwriting he ends up scribbling his own, and you break into a fit of giggles.

Cocking an eyebrow, the male glances up at you.

“Wow, suddenly our names are quite similar,” you say, pointing at the cup, and when he sees the permanent black Yoongi written he curses.

“Fuck, I’ll get you a new one–,” he begins apologetically, but you cut him off.

“No! It’s ok, it’s just a cup and you already know me, so it’s no big deal,” you laugh, smiling at him. He pauses.

“Are you sure?”

“Yeah, just draw a little heart next to it to make it cute and I think I’ll be fine,” you tease, and while Yoongi rolls his eyes, he can’t help the small smirk that comes to his face.

“I make no promises with that heart. Go ahead and swipe your card.”

Nodding, you do, and once the charge goes through you walk to the other end of the counter to wait, knowing by now that Yoongi will simply take your receipt and throw it away, since neither of you want it.

As you wait for your drink to be made, you pull your phone out and scroll through your twitter feed, trying to catch up on all the latest news and gossip before you run off to class. However, your finger only manages to swipe upward a few times before there’s a gasp behind you, and you turn to find a girl staring in horror at her phone which has just landed face down on the tile floor.

“Oh no,” you say, highly sympathetic as you squat down and gently pick the phone up since she’s clearly too petrified to do it herself. You peek at it, tilting the screen your way, and the hiss that escapes your lips is enough to let the girl know that she’ll be needing a new phone sometime soon.

“Shit, the glass,” you mumble as you return the phone to her, managing to mirror her thankful, albeit disappointed smile. She says that she’ll clean the glass up since it was her fault, but you tell her that you’ve got it, and reach over to grab a napkin.

“Don’t touch it, Y/N. We’ll clean it up,” you hear Yoongi’s voice command from the background, almost warning you to not do anything stupid, but you wave him off. You’ll be fine, it’s just a little glass.

So, putting the napkin next to the tiny shards, you gently use the side of your hand to brush the pieces onto the napkin. In the background Yoongi calls your name to get your drink, and then immediately sighs when he sees you bent down, trying to macgyver glass onto a napkin like a cave man.

“You’re dumb,” he grumbles as you stand up, turning to face him with the napkin full of glass in your palm.

“Hey, it worked didn’t it?” you grin triumphantly, but just as you transfer the napkin to Yoongi to be disposed of, a piece of glass tears through the thin layers of paper and scrapes your skin.

“Ow, fuck,” you curse, examining the damage as Yoongi hurriedly takes the glass from you and tosses it into the waste bin. You hold your palm out, fingers lightly pressing at the cut—red seeping at the edges—but before you can move to find something to clean yourself up, Yoongi’s hands are embracing your hurt one.

“Yoongi?” you say in surprise, watching as his thumbs brush against your palm, pressing down slightly on either side of the scrape. At the action more blood appears, and you glance up at him in shock.

“Yoongi…?”

Seguir leyendo

JungKook 'GOLDEN' Concept Photo - SUBSTANCE

Imagine both Leon and Luis offering you their jackets when you start shivering.

“You cold?”

“A little bit, but nothing I can’t handle.”

You say this with your teeth chattering and it was clear on Leon’s unamused face that he wasn’t buying it. The blonde sighs, hiding a slight smirk before his lips return to his characteristic frown.

“Here,” he says, shrugging out of his thick, fur-lined jacket. In doing so, the strong definition of muscles on his arms and chest came into full display and you couldn’t help but note every sculpted line. Those years of secret government training did wonders for his physique and the tight navy shirt left little to the imagination. Your overactive thoughts nearly run wild when his arms flexed out of his sleeves.

Remembering yourself, you shake your head. “Thanks, but won’t you be freezing?”

“Nothing I can’t handle,” Leon says with a slight smile, his gentle tone echoing yours when you tried to save face in a surprisingly teasing manner. For as long as you’ve known the blond, he was rarely warm and gentle. His stern, straight-laced demeanor and dry sense of humor often overshadows his kinder, sociable qualities. So to see him so openly considerate was a rare treat. This unexpected side of him stirred feelings inside you that are not at all unwelcome, but you found yourself at a loss for words.

He takes his jacket by the collar and offers it to you with an encouraging look that said that he wasn’t going to take “no” for an answer. You breathe out an air of defeat, reaching towards him. Against your will, your eyes roamed over the thick veins of his strong forearm and bicep appreciatively, and you tried to recover by quickly looking up. That was a mistake. He was no longer wearing a grin, but the heat within his eyes intensifies when they meet yours. You felt your cheeks burning under his knowing gaze.

Your fingertips (unintentionally) brush against his as you grabbed hold of the faux fur and was about to accept the weight of the clothing in your hands until you felt something warm and heavy drop around your shoulders. It took you by surprise and you look over to your side to see Luis standing next to you- sans leather jacket.

The Spaniard had his signature lopsided smile on his handsome face as he adjusted the stitched leather around you, making sure that it would not fall. It gave you an opportunity to look him over as well. You knew he wore a white-buttoned shirt, but now that he wasn’t wearing his jacket, you can see how nicely the fabric fitted on his frame.

For a man who considers himself the brains of your group, he was impressively cut. While Luis wasn’t as strongly built as Leon, he had a lean, well-defined waist that would have otherwise been hidden from sight with his jacket on. The sleeves of the shirt hugs his long arms nicely and his broad frame tautly stretches the thin creases that ran across the fabric, accentuating the exposed portion of his scarred chest. It became apparent to you then that Luis left the few buttons undone for reasons beyond just visual appeal.

The dark-haired man chuckled beneath his breath as he caught you staring. “Take mine, my friend. I’ve kept it warm- just for you.”

“Luis,” you started, trying to keep a straight face, “aren’t you worried about getting sick?” Your consideration came from a genuine place of concern and it showed in your voice, but you couldn’t argue the relief you felt wrapped inside the warmth provided by his jacket. You thought the leather would do little against the chilly weather, but surprisingly, it felt wonderful on you- most certainly because Luis’ heat formerly occupied it and the thought of you surrounded in said heat made your already feverish blush deepen.

“Y no te preocupes por mí.” He assures confidently. “I grew up in these parts. This weather doesn’t affect me one bit, so I insist.”

The man doesn’t give you an opportunity to respond.

“Unless…” Luis pauses for a second, playfulness glinting in his grey eyes. He then steps closer to your front. The movement forces you to reflexively let go of Leon’s jacket, leaving it to hang in the other man’s hand to allow room for the Spaniard to step in between you. Now only Luis stands in your full view, his eyes locking yours, all while maintaining his charming grin. “We come in close. Like this.”

The devilish man wraps a daring arm around your shoulders, nudging you closer to him but not forceful enough where you couldn’t pull away if you wanted to. You subconsciously didn’t want to and allowed him to bring you in, stopping to where your chests are merely a hair’s breath away from pressing against one another.

“This way we can keep each other warm,” he continues with a wink. “A good idea, ¿sí?”

Your ears pick up an annoyed scoff and you look over Luis’ broad shoulder. Leon stood with arms crossed, his bored eyes casted to the side as if finding something interesting in the distance. He already had his jacket back on, much to your disappointment.

Before you, Luis wears an amused smirk, addressing the blond without looking at him with faux intrigue, his focused gaze still resting entirely on you. “Something funny, Sancho?”

Leon ignores the obvious jab, “Just making mental bets on how long you’ll last before you start running your mouth. So far, I’m leaning towards two minutes.”

This made the Spaniard take a step back to turn his body sideways, arm still resting around you. Luis hums thoughtfully.

“Such harsh words for a squire,” he dismisses the counter with a casual shrug, squeezing your shoulder. At the time, you thought it to be a warm gesture, not once detecting the possessive undertones blatantly on display at the action. “Never underestimate a knight’s resilience. Or his endurance.”

If you had paid attention, you would have noticed the two men glaring at one another. You would have caught Leon’s challenging snarl and Luis’ taunting gaze. But no, you were too busy settling into Luis’ jacket, slipping your arms into the sleeves and zipping it closed around your form.

Ashley’s voice calls out to the three of you, announcing that she found something. Without a second thought, you start stepping towards her direction, separating yourself from Luis’ heat. You missed the frown he wore at your absence and by the time you looked back at him, he had on his usual charming smirk.

“Thanks for the jacket, Luis. I’ll give it back, I promise.” You say graciously, causing his grin to widen to a genuine smile. You then stop before Leon, also offering him a grateful look as you patted his chest. It was meant to be an amicable touch but the contact sent jolts of electricity from your palm to your chest. His body exuded an inviting warmth that made you hesitant to withdraw as you spoke trying to keep your voice level. “And I appreciate the thought, Leon. You’re always so reliable.”

You missed the subtle redness in his cheeks then too, willing yourself to give space and continuing to move to Ashley’s location. Both men are left staring after you, longing evident in the pools of silver and blue. After what seemed like an eternity of tense silence, Luis is the first to speak up.

“Dos minutos, mi culo.” He grumbles, a hint of amused irritation in his thick accented voice.

Leon snorts in turn. “That was generous.”

"Will it be a bad ending for us two?"

LOVE WINS ALL (2024)

Never forget that you are my best friend ♡