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Sweeter than Sweet

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“Hey! You coming or what?” Your friend looks over her shoulder to you, ringlets framing her gleefully mischievous expression.  A short nod and smile are all it takes to mollify her but the moment that her back is turned your nervous eyes resume scanning the room, darting this way and that, from corner to corner.

The club is packed, bodies thronging on either side as you as squeeze your way through to trail behind your modest friendship group of one.  Crowds have never really been your thing; even one-on-one you’ve been known to be slightly awkward with those whom you’re not so familiar.

You have to admit, though: there’s a sense of anonymity that comes with blending between dancers in the dark that appeals to you - content to become just another nameless body amongst the writhing masses.  Barely anyone even pays you second glance, and why would they?

Eventually, you manage to squeeze your way to the bar to join your friend, hopping into a newly vacated stool with a heavy sigh of relief.  At least now you’re sat down Sam might be less likely to try dragging you onto the dance floor - that’s the hope, anyway.

“What’re you having?” she calls over the thumping music.  Her hips are already swinging back and forth to the bass as you peer helplessly at the assortment of colourful bottles lining the back wall and squint your eyes in hopes of making out the labels.  You end up none the wiser for doing so, however, resorting to eyeing the drink that’s just landed in front of Sam instead; a bright orange concoction that’s poured with a flourish into a tall cocktail glass.

“I’ll just have one of those!” you say, raising your voice in an attempt to be heard over the din that surrounds you.  You’re not sure you’re successful, to be honest, but Sam must have understood what your gesticulating had meant because soon enough an identical drink is placed in front of you - cocktail umbrella and all.  You take a cautious sip whilst your friend looks around - searching for tonight’s prey, most likely - and you’re relieved that she misses the way you grimace at the drink’s slightly bitter aftertaste. She’d only make you down it faster if she had.

“Lots of cute guys tonight!” Sam calls enthusiastically, her eyebrows lifting as she sips her own drink and blinks back at you from over the rim.  

“Mmmhm,” you agree non-committedly, casting a glance around to at least feign some sort of interest.  

The guys in these kinds of places have never particularly appealed to you.  Usually, they’re only after one thing, and most of them aren’t even shy about showing it.  You’d realised quite quickly that kind of sleazy, fuckboy confidence isn’t what’s attractive to you, even if you’re still not entirely sure what is .  

“You coming to dance?”  You don’t even bother to reply to Sam’s question, simply cocking your head to the side and shooting her a wry smile at the fact she’d even attempt to get you up there  “Fair enough,” she grins, shrugging her shoulders. Undeterred by your lack of enthusiasm, she downs her cocktail in series of impressive enthusiastic gulps and then heads out into the crowd, leaving you alone.

Maybe if you were the more sociable sort you might mind being left to your own devices.  As it is, though, you’re quite content to sit quietly at the bar, singing under your breath to every song.  Your love of music is the only thing that keeps you coming back here, along with your total inability to say no to your best friend.  It’s certainly not the drinks, anyway.

Saying that - maybe they’re not so bad.  With every sip the more tolerable your cocktail seems to become, but that’s likely just the booze talking.

You’re sucking nonchalantly on the slice of orange that was hooked over the rim of your glass when Sam returns.  She’s out of breath but happy, pieces of fringe stuck to her forehead and a ridiculous smile on her face.

“It’s so hot! God!” she declares, fanning herself with her hands before turning suddenly on the spot, grabbing an empty glass straight out the hand of the man next to her and then tipping the remaining ice into her palm.  You can’t help but laugh as the poor boy then gawps, open-mouthed, as Sam rubs the ice along her flushed chest with a sigh of relief, totally unconcerned with the cool water that then dribbles down the front of her dress as it melts.

You can’t blame him for staring, really.  Sam’s gorgeous and always has been, what with her raven coloured hair and killer curves.  Even if she were a wallflower like you, she’d probably still be the centre of attention.

“Thanks!” she yells, promptly dismissing him with a turn of her back and a flip of her hair.

“You’re actually ridiculous,” you grin, popping the orange slice back into your mouth with a shake of your head.  Sam smiles back and casts you a roguish wink, about to turn and order another drink all of a sudden her eyes widen as she looks beyond you, staring at someone further down the bar.

“Maybe I am,” she admits, corner of her lip curling into a smirk, “ But so’s he .”  She nods her head in the direction she’s looking as an indicator for you to turn and look too; the idea of being subtle not even crossing your mind before you swivel round in your seat to follow her eye-line, orange peel still gripped between your teeth.

It’s immediately obvious who your friend is talking about - a man leaning against the bar just a few metres away who is so startlingly handsome that it almost seems inappropriate. The strobe lights paint his face in striking shades of blue and green in perfect time with the music, highlighting his high cheekbones and illuminating skin that’s flawlessly smooth even from afar.  He’s ethereal - beautiful beyond words - and completely unlike anyone else you’ve ever seen.

You’d expect people to be crowding around him, vying for his attention, but it’s almost as though there’s some invisible force that keeps them at bay - stops them getting too close.  They give him a wide berth instead; a respectful distance that makes you think that perhaps they can sense the powerful aura that’s emanating from him just as plainly as you can.

He’s alluring and alarming all at once - all the more so when you realise that he’s staring back in your direction.

Caught, you quickly look away, pulling the fruit from your mouth as you turn.  It’s disturbing how shaken you feel from nothing more than a little eye contact - how hard your heart is pounding.    

“Go for it,” you tell your friend once you’ve managed to collect yourself, hoping she won’t notice the falter in your smile. “He’s cute.”  

It’s not the first time you’ve felt envious of Sam’s good looks, and it probably won’t be the last, but you won’t allow your jealousy to hold her back.  Your inferiority complex is your problem, not hers, and at least this way you might get to live vicariously through her.

“Sweetie,” she coos, stepping closer so she can speak into your ear whilst still looking back at the stranger over your shoulder. “Trust me, I would, but I’m not the one he’s been staring at.”

“Really?” The question escapes your lips before you can think about how pathetically eager you must sound.

“Really.”  You risk another glance and sure enough, the stranger is still looking, eyes unblinking as he stirs at the drink in front of him with a straw.  Swallowing hard, you turn away, shifting uncomfortably in your seat as you feel your cheeks begin to fill with heat.

Is it just embarrassment that’s to blame, or could it be the intensity of his gaze making them burn?  

“Think he wants you to go over?”

“How should I know?” you hiss in reply, flustered by this unfamiliar situation in which you find yourself.  You’re not used to this; have no idea what to do or how to act. Do you even want his attention?

You’re just about to ask Sam for some pearls of wisdom when her doe eyes suddenly widen once more, her hands flapping against your in excitement.

“He’s coming!” she squeals, grinning maniacally as she grabs the drink that’s appeared in front of her as if to make a hasty exit.   

“Don’t you dare, Samantha!  Don’t you dare leave me!” you whisper through gritted teeth, pleading with your eyes, but seconds later and she’s gone, having slipped into the crowd with a parting ‘thumbs up’ like the vile traitor she is.  

This really can’t be happening.  Sam must’ve been wrong. Please let her be wrong!

You lean on the bar, your forehead resting on the palm of your hand as you close your eyes and try to slow the pace of your shallow, panicky breaths.

“Hello.”  A sweet, soft voice finds your ears and you jump to attention, sitting up bolt straight with your eyes blown wide.  

Apparently, Sam hadn’t been mistaken.  It really must’ve been you that the stranger had been looking at because now he’s here, standing right beside you at an almost uncomfortably close distance with a playful smile upon his face.  

As impossible as it may seem he’s even more bewitching up close than he had been from a distance; with his piercing, kohl-lined eyes and thick, plump mouth.  You find yourself gawking - utterly lost for words - but thankfully the beautiful stranger’s smile just grows in spite of your awkwardness, his lips parting to reveal a perfect set of sparkling white teeth.

“I’m Jimin.”  He waits, eyebrows slowly rising in expectation as you say nothing in reply.  

Why won’t your mouth work?  Why does your tongue feel so numb ?

“I can just call you yeobo , sweetheart, if you don’t want to tell me your name,” he smiles, and you can’t help but watch with fascination at the way his mouth twists around the foreign speech; so different and melodic in comparison to your harsh English words.  

Blushing at the term of endearment he so casually bestowed on you, you suddenly find your tongue and blurt out your name in a hurry, placing your hand over your mouth as soon as you’re finished so as to not keep blathering on like an idiot as is so often your habit.  Jimin laughs tunefully at your nervousness, and as he does so his head tips back so far that his grey bangs fall into his eyes; pushed back with a delicate hand when he looks at you again. You’re relieved that Jimin looks merely amused rather than pitying, though honestly, you’re wondering why on earth he’s still here when you’re acting like some kind of social moron.

You muster your courage, swallowing hard as you fold your hands together in your lap to give you something to hold onto.

“Sorry. I-uh-I don’t really belong here,” you admit far more candidly than usual.  The corner of his mouth twitches into a hint of a smile.

“I can see that.”  There’s a slight accent to his voice but you’re not well travelled enough to hazard a guess as to where in East Asia he might originally be from.  It’s a charming lilt, nonetheless. He places one hand on the back of your stool, leaning in, and his close proximity has your heart hammering nervously in your chest, lured further in by the pleasant scent of his aftershave.

“Is there somewhere else you’d rather be?”  His breath caresses your ear, the hairs on the back of your neck rising.

“Right now?”  Jimin pulls back just enough to to be able to look into your eyes as you fight the urge to confess that you’d rather be anywhere than here - as long as it’s with him.  Best not to seem too desperate, after all.  

“At home,” you reply, speaking quietly whilst studying your lap.  Somehow, he still seems to hear you over the music. “In bed.” You meet his gaze, cheeks flushing.  “Reading.” Jimin is so intense, so focused on your every word that you can barely stand to look at him.

“And is there someone missing you there?”  he asks, the hand that was resting on the stool shifting to trail his fingertips down your bare arm, goosebumps rising in their wake.  “At home? In bed?”

“No.”  You bite your lip, hands tightening around the other and your palms beginning to sweat. “No one.”  You can’t quite hear the sound he makes but you could guess that he’s tutting, his face twisting in displeasure as he does so.

“How can it be-” Jimin questions, stepping close enough that his thighs meet your knees, “- that a woman like you.” The fingers that were dancing along your arm reach up to tuck the hair that’s fallen in front of your face behind your ear, gentle.  “A beautiful woman like you.” As if he senses the way you’re longing to, Jimin suddenly takes your chin between his thumb and forefinger to keep you from looking away. You wish he wouldn’t. He’s too close leaning in over you, hard to breathe whilst he’s looking into your eyes. “Spends a single night alone?”  

A beat passes, and you know he’s expecting an answer by the way his head tilts subtly to the side but once again he’s stricken you dumb.  Why on earth would someone like him ever want somebody like you? You keep expecting him to suddenly laugh; to sneer at you and tell you his attention is nothing but a lie, a cruel joke at your expense.  

Instead, Jimin closes the small gap between you and presses his lips to yours in a chaste, fleeting kiss.   

It catches you so off guard that you completely forget that you’re supposed to do more than just sit there like a statue letting him kiss you, but that’s exactly what you do.

“So sweet…” The words are sighed against your mouth before he pulls away, and as he straightens to his full height and runs his thumb along the angle of your jaw you notice his Adam’s apple bob heavily in his throat.  

Perhaps your drink was stronger than usual, or maybe you drank it too fast?  Surely that can be the only reason that your head feels like it’s swimming - dizzy with excitement.  Tipsiness doesn’t explain the unfamiliar unfurling of heat in your abdomen, though, nor the ache between your legs that only grows as you Jimin’s eyes linger on the curve of your neck.  His look is pure heat, seduction oozing from every pore as he offers you his hand with a slow, easy smile.

“Come with me.”  

Chapter Text

Jimin’s hand is slightly cold to the touch.  It strikes you as a little odd considering the club is so swelteringly warm, but the thought only lingers in your mind for but a second at most; far more concerned with the way you’re letting yourself be so easily led astray by a complete and utter stranger.  He may be beautiful, sure, but he’s still an unknown.

“Where are we going?” you call to him over the music, following close behind as he fluidly twists and turns through the crowd without hesitation.  As you reach the periphery of the building Jimin suddenly yanks you forward to his side, releasing your hand to tightly wrap an arm around your waist instead, holding you close.  He grins as you gasp at the sudden contact and then confidently leads your through a pair of heavy back fire doors at the back of the club which lead out onto a dimly lit courtyard.  Several small groups of people stand huddled together around heat lamps, chasing nicotine fixes as they talk and laugh loudly amongst thick clouds of smoke.

“Somewhere a little more quiet, just you and me.”  

Alone?  The two of you?  Together?

Just the thought of it makes your heart race - your stomach flip-flopping with nerves - and when Jimin notices your rabbit-in-headlights expression he gives you a sideways glance and chuckles, his hand squeezing reassuring at your side.  

“I just want to talk somewhere we can actually hear one another,” he assures you smoothly, his eyes twinkling, “Tell me about yourself.  Everything there is to know.”

“That won’t take long,” you scoff, relieved that your voice seems to be the only thing about you that doesn’t seem to be shaking.  Yet, anyway. “There’s really not that much to say.”

Jimin leads you through the courtyard regardless, leaving the orange glow of the lamps behind as you descend some broken stone steps that are still wet from the rain that’d fallen earlier in the day.  You’d had no idea this building backed onto a canal but here it is; a narrow body of still water, the surface of which reflects a half-hidden moon but no stars. You’ve always thought it was a shame that the light pollution hides them from your view.

“There has to be something you’re passionate about,” Jimin persists, “Something that gets your blood pumping.”  Right now that ‘something’ is him, but you’re not about to go telling him that. It’s so unusual for anyone to ever be interested in what you have to say that you’re at a little bit of at a loss for where to start, your mind racing to think of something to say as Jimin escorts you along the canal side a little ways until you reach a secluded spot with a bench just big enough for two. It’s darker here but your eyes have had chance to adjust; Jimin’s appearance just as stunning in the evening light as it was inside.

“Cosy,” you comment apprehensively as he guides you down onto the bench to sit next to him, so close that the side of his thigh is pressing into to yours.  

The way Jimin is staring is becoming impossible not to notice even for someone as generally unobservant as you. His eyes - if not fixed on yours - are constantly roaming your body, and as you begin to ramble nervously about all your literary heroes and favourite authors, he keeps moistening his bottom lip, tongue darting out from in between.  It’s making you both anxious and excited in equal measure, the task of keeping your breath steadily becoming more and more difficult by the minute.

The realisation of what a dangerous situation you’ve put yourself in is starting to creep further to the forefront of your mind the longer you sit with Jimin who is he’s un-speaking and un-moving save the constant roving of his eyes and the trailing of his fingertips back and forth along your exposed shoulder.  

You come to the end of your sentence, swallowing hard as you glance backward towards the courtyard of the club.  

“I should’ve let Sam where I was going…” you say quietly, thinking out loud.  “She’ll be worrying about me.”

“I’m sure she’ll understand.”  Jimin’s tone isn’t as reassuring as you’d hoped it would be.  It sounds a little dismissive, actually, and that nagging feeling in your gut that something’s not quite right is starting to get become stronger with every second that ticks by in silence, the still body of water nearby providing the only source of sound when its surface is occasionally disturbed.  

“It’s getting cold out…”  That’s a lie - it’s really quite mild - but the hairs that are starting to rise on your arms would make anyone think otherwise.  “Maybe we should-“ Jimin cuts you off, turning sideways in his seat and pulling one bent leg up onto the wood so he can face you directly.

“We can keep each other warm,” he suggests with a smirk, and despite all instincts telling you that this is wrong - that this is going to end badly for you - your core muscles involuntarily tighten at his words.  “The moonlight looks good on you.” Jimin’s voice seems as though it’s dropped an octave, huskier and hungrier than before, and his compliment has you chewing on your bottom lip with nervous energy. “Come here,” he beckons, offering you a ringed hand.  

You obey unthinkingly, allowing him to pull you onto his lap with surprising ease so that your legs dangle over his and your arms have no choice but to encircle his shoulders.  His soft features are so pretty up close, his skin so smooth that you can’t make out a single pore, and as he shakes his fringe out of his eyes the dainty, cross-shaped earrings dangling from each of his ears catch what little light there is, glinting back at you.  

Jimin pushes your hair back from your shoulders so it dangles down your back without a word, exposing your neck and chest, and you breath catches in your throat as he reaches up to cup your face in both of his petite hands and draws it closer to his, kissing you again.  He starts slow, waiting for you to kiss him back as his thumbs patiently caress your cheeks, that sweet gentleness completely disappearing the moment that you do.

His kisses turn hard and rough as he uses the back of your neck as an anchor to pull you closer, further into him.

“Let me taste you,” he growls against your mouth, not waiting for permission before pushing his tongue between your lips and finding yours.  Jimin kisses like he’s been starved of it - deeply and noisily - and before you know it you’re groaning into his mouth and clutching onto the front of his silken shirt as though you might slip away if you don’t.  

You’ve never been kissed like this in your life, and it’s awoken something inside that you you never knew existed until now.  Your insides burn like fire, desire blazing through your veins and roaring in your ears, all caution long forgotten, and when Jimin starts to kiss his way across your cheek and along your jaw you’re left panting through kiss-bruised lips, staring up at the dark, starless sky with wide and startled eyes.  You whimper as he presses his mouth to your neck over and over, worshipping your skin with both lips and tongue before finally nuzzling his face against the curve of your throat and inhaling.

“Jimin,” you sigh wistfully, your hormones running so wild it feels as though you’re drunk.  Your hands find their way into his hair, soft and fine, and you run your fingers through it as he plants long, lingering kisses to your throat and down, across the curves of your breasts.  His hands leave your face to find your hips, gripping you so firmly through your dress that you’re afraid it might leave bruises, and then he uses that grip to shift slightly on his lap, positioning you so that you’re able to feel his arousal pressing insistently against your behind.  He grinds it into you and you shamelessly push back, keening at the sensation.

“It’s been so long since I gave into temptation… but you smell so good,” Jimin groans against your neck as he rocks you on his lap, fingertips digging into your flesh.  You can feel your underwear becoming damp, the constant friction making you ache so bad that you’re sure you’re going to slowly lose your mind. “And you taste so sweet, I don’t think I can resist…”  

“Jimin, p-please,” you beg even though you’re unsure of what it is you’re asking for, and when Jimin looks up at you from under his lashes his pupils are so dilated that his eyes look almost completely black in the dark.  He starts to ravage your neck anew, kissing and licking and sucking, staring back at you so intensely as he does it that you’re caught, rendered unable to drag your eyes away from the way he’s abusing your skin. Finally, it becomes so much that you can’t help but let your head tip back, eyes closing in pleasure as his palm cups your breast, fondling you through your clothes.

Suddenly, a sharp prick of pain originates from the spot where Jimin’s mouth lays over your skin.  

Did he… did he just bite you?  Maybe he thinks you’ll like it.  You know some people are into mixing pleasure with pain.  Perhaps Jimin is one of them?

You open your eyes with a soft laugh, about to tease him for it when suddenly that pain returns.  It’s not a prick this time, though. It’s a gouge - like two hot, searing needles have sliced through your flesh exactly where Jimin’s mouth should be.

The pain is so intense you can’t even cry out when it hits you.  Your body goes rigid on his lap, and try as you may - tugging and pulling at his hair - you just can’t seem to pull him off of you.  His cheeks are hollowing out with how strongly he’s sucking on your neck, and it’s with absolute horror that you realise in amongst your panic that you can hear him swallowing.  

Your heart pounds furiously in your chest as you try to fight back, terror taking away your ability to breathe, and Jimin - slender, petite Jimin - is freakishly strong.  You try to struggle against him but his grip on you is like stone, hard and just as cold until he abruptly pulls away from you, what you see next exactly like a scene pulled straight from a horror movie.  

Jimin’s thick, beautiful lips are covered in blood.  Your blood.  It’s dribbling down his chin, smeared around his mouth, and when he starts to laugh his teeth - his fangs - are covered in it too, his mouth full of it.

“You’re even sweeter than I imagined,” he laughs, delirious, too drunk on the taste of you to be affected by the sight of the tears that are rolling down your cheeks.  He lowers his head to start feeding again, and this time you do manage a short, panic-stricken scream – one that’s cut far too short by one of Jimin’s hands pressed tightly to your mouth.  “I wanted to take my time with you...” Jimin sighs in frustration, cocking his head to the side, “But now you’re making me rush.”

He sinks his teeth into you again, and though you didn’t think it was possible Jimin seems to be drinking even faster now than he was before, dragging the blood out of your veins and swallowing it greedily.  Your heart that was racing so fast before begins to slow as he feeds, your will to fight draining away along with your blood until your body becomes limp in Jimin’s arms, your vision fading into black and white, fuzzy all around the edges.  

It doesn’t even hurt anymore, really, not now you feel like you’re sinking, your body no longer quite your own.  You wonder if this is what dying feels like, and absentmindedly think to yourself that perhaps there are worse ways to go than being cradled in the arms of a man as beautiful as Jimin.

You lose consciousness to the sound of your own fading heartbeat and people shouting, somewhere far off in the distance.  

Chapter Text

It takes three days, four blood transfusions and one police interview before you’re finally able to be discharged from the ward. You’re still unsteady on your feet even as you walk through the hospital doors, Jimin’s attack having left you dizzy every time you stand; pulse racing as your heart desperately tries to pump oxygen around your body fast enough with what little iron stores you have left.  

 

Technically, you shouldn’t really be leaving at all.  The doctors had advised against you self-discharging but you were sure you’d go mad if you spent one more night staring at the four white walls of your bay.  They’d reluctantly agreed to your release on the proviso that there was someone to help you at home for a few days and you’d nodded and smiled, telling them that your mother was coming to stay to aid your recovery with warm hugs and chicken soup.

That was a lie, of course.  Only Sam had known about your stay, and that was only because she’d been frantic enough when you’d disappeared to call every hospital in the area looking for you after she’d realised you’d disappeared.  She’d come running in the next morning, sobbing her apologies and promising that you’d never leave her sight again. You’d assured her that it wasn’t her fault and that she was in no way responsible; that you should’ve known better than to wander off with strangers - all of which was true - and then after all the crying and apologising was done, the questions had begun.

Much like police, Sam had wanted to know all the details, but what could you tell her?  You’re fairly certain that if you’d started raving about fangs and vampires you’d be in for a far longer hospital stay than this one – one with nice padded walls and multi-coloured pills to help calm you down.  You’re sure it’s what everyone was thinking anyway, just too fearful to say it out-loud for how ridiculous it sounds. What other conclusion could you come to when faced with multiple two-pronged bite marks and heavy blood loss?

The fact that you remain steadfastly unhelpful seems to make both Sam and the authorities let the matter drop at a remarkably quick rate.  Maybe they don’t want to know as much as you don’t want to tell them? Your drink must have been spiked, you say again and again; you don’t remember a single thing.  You certainly don’t recall what your attacker looked like, and he definitely didn’t tell you his name.

It takes you far longer than usual for you to reach your apartment door, sliding down it as soon as you get inside and drop your bag to the floor.  Taking the stairs was definitely not a good idea. Your head has started to spin again, vision spotting in front of your eyes until you place your forehead against your knees and take some deep, slow breaths, dizziness gradually improving.  

Why the hell are you protecting the man that attacked you and reduced you to this?  It’s nowhere near the first time you’ve asked yourself that question, but no matter how many times you’ve questioned it, rolling the thoughts around your head, you still can’t seem to find the answer.  You’d like to think it’s because you’re trying to protect those that might be foolish enough try to track Jimin down – you know from first-hand experience that no mortal would stand a chance one-on-one with him – but somehow, deep down, you know that’s not it; a dark feeling lurking in the bottom of your gut that tells you so.

It’s only now, in the safety of your own home, that you can silently admit to yourself that some sick, twisted little part of you liked getting bitten.  Being desired by Jimin - whether it be for your body or your blood - made you feel the most alive you’ve ever felt.  That out of body weightlessness when you were on the verge of fainting; that rush of endorphins as your body fought to soothe the pain.  Just the memory of it has you tingling all over.

“So, so fucked up,” you murmur under your breath, finally looking up from your knees and gazing across your empty apartment.  You slowly rise to standing, knowing better now than to rush it and risk passing out, and then shuffle your way into the bathroom, heading.  After nothing but showers for three days perhaps a long, hot soak might help you feel human again.

You chuckle bitterly to yourself as the word crosses your mind.   Human .  You should’ve known Jimin was anything but from the moment that you’d seen him.  It was no wonder he’d looked so otherworldly - so breathtakingly handsome. He’s the perfect predator, his looks designed to draw you in and lower your guard; a challenge he thoroughly succeeded in.

You sigh heavily, pulling off your t-shirt as the bathroom fills with steam, and as your head re-emerges you catch sight of your reflection in the small mirror.  You grimace at how pale you look - how drawn - sure that the dark circles under your eyes were never so noticeable just a few days before.

More startling than your complexion, though, are the marks that still linger on your skin.  Twice Jimin bit you at the juncture where your neck and shoulder meets, leaving behind four puncture wounds that are now scabbing over, surrounded by deep purple bruises that look nastier than the bites themselves..  

He really made a mess of you, didn’t he?

You run your fingertips over your wounds, wincing as it stings but continuing to touch anyway.  If you close your eyes it’s almost like you can feel him there; Jimin’s breath ghosting across your skin, mouth just a whisper away, those fangs tucked behind his lips, ready and poised to sink –

You shock yourself out of your daydream with a gasp, eyes snapping open to lock gazes with the reflection staring back at you.  The girl stood in the mirror is so alien to you; lip bitten, pupils dilated with lust; her chest rising and falling in quick, shallow breaths at just the mere thought of Jimin touching you again.  Reacting this way is ridiculous - borderline psychotic, in fact - and you shake your head at yourself, looking away from your reflection. You must be a hell of a lot more screwed up than you ever gave yourself credit for, to be thinking like this.

The heat of the water eases your aching muscles as you sink into the tub, submerging yourself as deep as you possibly can.  You shut your eyes, attempting to relax and fill your mind with pleasant, normal thoughts, but it’s just no use.  The desire to see Jimin again is overwhelming, even knowing that to seek him out would be stupid and reckless to the nth degree, but every time you try to think of something else your mind keeps going back to him; to Jimin, over and over again.   

You’d very likely be going straight to your death but it’s a desire you can’t fight.  No matter how hard you try, you can’t shake the memory of adrenaline coursing through your veins and the feel of his desire pressed against against you.  

By the time you’ve climbed out of the bath you’ve already made your choice; a new and rare determination gripping you tight.  You’ll go back there again, for better or for worse - straight back to the lion’s den.

When you head back to the scene of the crime a week or so later you’re full of a confidence and purpose you’ve never possessed before.  You’re dressed more provocative than the last time you walked through these same guarded front doors, too, dressed head to toe in black as you cross the threshold into the chaos and noise; halterneck straps going a little ways to cover up the marks on your neck whilst your hair helps cover the rest, tossed haphazardly over the one shoulder.

It’s amazing what a brush with death will do for your attitude, you find.  As you part the crowd on your way to the bar you no longer care what any of these people might think of you.  There’s only one person’s attention you want - one opinion that counts - and it’s like everyone else can sense that, drawn to this new found confidence.  Suddenly eyes that would have once glossed over you are taking long, appraising looks, and men are making room for you to stand at the bar between them, willingly allowing you to skip the queue with wide, inviting smiles.

Not that you’re interested in drinking, anyway.  You’re still a little dizzy as it is, and you need to keep a clear, sober head tonight.  You scan the bar carefully up and down, only releasing the hopeful, bated breath you’d been holding once you realise Jimin isn’t there.  He must not be as stupid as you to return so quickly and risk being recognised by the men that came to your rescue on hearing you scream that night, and you now feel ridiculous for even hoping he might.  

Disappointment weighs heavier in your stomach than any relief you might feel, your shoulders slumping as you sag against the bar.  You’re so tired all of a sudden, hit square in the chest by the loneliness you usually ignore so well. You really had hoped…

Suddenly, the sound of raucous laughter grabs your attention and you look up, lifting yourself from your elbows to search for its source.  Turning on the spot, your eyes immediately fall on a booth situated across from the bar where a large group of people sit, all laughing merrily at some unknown joke.  The gaggle of women sat around the table all howl and shriek like coyotes as they drink champagne straight from the bottles, egging each other on to drink more and laugh louder.  There must be at least a bottle per person resting atop of their table, with more than that to spare, and if the way they’re falling about all over each other is anything to go by they’ve already had more than enough.

You’re rolling your eyes, about to turn away, when suddenly a man appears from in amongst them.  He stands, a champagne bottle in each hand and a large grin on his face as he begins to pour alcohol into the waiting, open mouths of the women that crowd around him.  

He doesn’t seem to care that more of it is spilling down their fronts and onto the floor than is actually being drank and neither do they, apparently.  They’re all captivated by him, hanging onto his arms and his legs like climbing monkeys, and as he sits back down they cuddle their way up to him. One of them leans close to whisper something in his ear and it doesn’t take a genius to guess of what nature those words might be, judging by the smirk they generate.

He isn’t human.  Somehow you just know it, your instincts warning you of the fact even after just a few seconds of watching, though undoubtedly he seems very different from Jimin on first glance.  Jimin kept his distance, silently and stealthily selecting his prey until he was ready to strike, whereas this man seems to revel being right in the middle of it. If it weren’t for the tell-tale pale perfection of his skin and his inhuman good looks you probably never would have suspected him.  

Although… no, perhaps you would’ve.  As you continue to watch him from the bar, you realise the look in his eyes is what would’ve still eventually given him away.  You’d recognise that expression anywhere after seeing it first hand; that hunger with which his eyes rake over each woman’s skin.  It’s that look that shows him for the wolf in sheep’s clothing he really is.

You must be staring too hard or for too long because suddenly he sharply looks up, his gaze immediately findings yours.  He’s frowns at first, taking you in, but within seconds his face is splits into a wide, charming smile, one long arm rising above the tide of women to wave you over; an invite you to come join his harem.  Confidence suddenly slipping, nerves twist at your stomach, and you have to remind yourself that this was what you wanted - that this is your chance.  

What’s the likelihood of two vampires making this same place their hunting grounds and not knowing one another other?  This is your best shot. You have to take it.

Despite your better judgement you find your feet carrying you over there before you’ve even really decided to move, and as you arrive at the table’s edge the man greets you warmly, smiling like a cherub.  

“Hello beautiful!” he exclaims, his accent similar to Jimin’s but slightly lower, slightly more nasal.  “Come sit, join us!” One of the girl’s sat next to him does not look amused at being so easily dismissed as he pats the space at his side that once belonged to her, but nonetheless she takes his hint, sliding over to make space for you to slide into the booth and sit at this Pied Piper’s side.  “Here, have a drink,” he offers as you make yourself comfortable, sliding a whole bottle your way with a playful wink, and despite the fear lurking in the back of your mind you can’t help but smile as you regretfully shake your head.

“Just one,” you say sweetly, and he barks a laugh as he grabs a flute from the far side of the table and then fills it to the brim with champagne with an exaggerated flourish, discarding the now empty bottle back into the ice bucket from whence it came.  You’ve never tasted this particular brand of champagne before it before, but you recognise it as an expensive one.

“Girl knows her limits,” he chuckles to the blonde next to him as he sits and relaxes back into the leather seats, shaking his hair out of his eyes and running his fingers through the autumnal shaded strands.  She laps up the fleeting attention, smiling inanely back at him. “Not like us.” He passes you the glass, your fingers brushing as he does, and you have to force yourself to keep from flinching at the familiar chill of his skin.  You raise your glass and take a meagre sip to disguise your discomfort, swallowing hard. “I’m Hoseok,” he grins, his bright eyes twinkling, “But you can call me Hobi. Or Hope. Whichever you prefer.”

You introduce yourself in turn, smiling back coyly, and Hoseok seems to take that as an indicator of your willingness to chat.  There’s question after question and joke after joke - a veritable chatterbox - and the only let up you get is when his attention is stolen away when he hears a song that he likes.  Distracted, he’ll get up from his seat and dance right there next to you, circling his narrow hips and raising his hands in the air; his facial expressions some of the lewdest you’ve ever seen.   

He and Jimin seem like they come from completely different worlds.  Jimin had used sex and seduction as his tools to lure you in whereas Hoseok seems to take advantage of his natural playfulness and charm to disarm the women around him.  In fact, if it weren’t for the fact you’d met Jimin first you can easily imagine how you too might’ve fallen under Hoseok’s spell. His laughter and enthusiasm is so infectious that it’d be all too easy to forget why you came here in the first place, or remember just how dangerous he is behind all these sweet smiles and playful winks.  

It doesn’t take long, though, before you receive a rather frightening reminder.  Hoseok seems to be paying special attention one girl in particular - Leanne, you’d heard him call her - and she’s clearly enamoured with him, choosing to remain glued to his side when her friends had left to dance a little while ago.  He’s sat turned toward her, leant over so far as to almost completely obscure her from your view, but you can tell he’s whispering things in her ear from the way she giggles, her hands coming to rest on his shoulders so that her finely manicured nails drape over the back of his fitted suit jacket, crimson and pointed.  

As you watch Hoseok lace his fingers into the woman’s hair to tilt her head to the side you feel yourself break out into a cold sweat; his own head moving lower as he trails his lips all over her neck.  The gesture is chillingly familiar, and you know all too well what he’s getting ready to do - what’s about to happen. Frozen stiff in fright, you sit clutching your glass in your hand, squeezing so hard you’re afraid it might shatter.

To the outside observer it would simply look as if Hoseok and Leanne were getting hot and heavy with one another, but with the knowledge experience has afforded you you’re able to recognise the exact second that Hoseok succumbs to bloodlust and his fangs sink into her skin.  You watch, transfixed, as her grip on his back suddenly tightens, her legs jerk upward to hit the underside of the table with a thud that’s smothered by the music, and though you’re terrified you can’t seem to look away from the scene as it plays out in front of you.

It must take only seconds before you she becomes limp in his arms, either passed out or dead.  The gentility with which Hoseok handles her once he’s done seems totally bizarre after such brutality, yet he seems to take great care in laying her down across the seat cushions, pausing thereafter whilst he takes a swig from the champagne that’d belonged to the girl at his side.  He’s wiping the corner of his mouth with his thumb as he turns back to you with a pearly white smile, and you try your very best to push away the nausea that’s turning your guts inside-out, hiding the panicked expression on your face with a smile.

“Girl can’t handle her liquor,” he chortles, tilting his head in her direction and somehow you manage to laugh and play along with his joke despite the way your hands are trembling where they’re hidden beneath the table.  “What about you, beautiful?” He scoots closer to you, one eyebrow raised as he reaches out to press his index finger against the tip of your nose. “You gonna flake out on me too?”

“No,” you whisper, and Hoseok’s smile grows wider as he leans closer to you, his right arm slung across the back of the booth whilst the his left hand starts to play with your hair, gently pushing it back.  Face to face with the open jaws of a shark, you can feel yourself beginning to panic, your breath quickening as he brushes your hair off of your neck.

“What’s this?”  Hoseok’s winning smile falters, his eyebrows creasing into a frown as he spots the barely hidden bruises on your skin and your stomach lurches with dread.  Terrified, you scramble to try and cover them up but he pushes your hand away, grabbing onto your shoulder with a grip like an iron vice.

“It’s nothing,” you stammer, looking away to avoid Hoseok’s penetrating eyes.  You feel his fingers slip under the strap of your halter neck, pulling it to the side, and when he sees the puncture marks that were hidden there he lets out a low, mischievous chuckle.  Touching your cheek, he turns your head back to face him, and his smile that was once so friendly has now twisted into a smirk that makes your stomach tighten in fear.

“You’ve met one of us before, haven’t you,” he states and you don’t bother to try and deny it; Hoseok’s clearly not an idiot.  “Not many survive the first to encounter a second… you must be either very fortunate or very un fortunate.”  Honestly, you’re starting to think the latter may be right.  

This was a bad idea… you shouldn’t have come back.  What were you thinking ?  

With every second that passes Hoseok is looking at you more and more like a meal; his head tilted to the side and his tongue caught between his teeth as his eyes rove up and down the length of your neck.   

“I wanted to see him again,” you blurt out as the vampire leans in and both of his arms settle around your waist to keep you fixed you firmly in place.  He pauses, momentarily confused. “Jimin.”

“Jimin?”  A smile flits across his face as his eyes evaluate the others handiwork.  “I should’ve guessed,” Hoseok admits before pressing his lips against your cheek in a gentle kiss that makes you shudder. “You’re just his type.”  You can feel him grinning against your skin as he rubs his the tip of his nose along your cheekbone and then lingers with his lips grazing the shell of your ear, his breath cold.

You shut your eyes, barely able to breathe for fear whilst your body is locked in his embrace, unable to see the point in fighting when you already know how pointless any attempt would be.  You’re going to end up like Leanne; drunk dry, body broken and abandoned for the glass collectors to find when the lights go up…

“Not like him to go breaking the rules so easily...”  Hoseok nips at your earlobe and you’re horrified by the way your body betrays you, the hairs on the back of your neck rising in a mix of arousal and fear.  What the hell is wrong with you?  “You must’ve have had him out of his mind.”  

He begins to plant kisses down the side of your throat, and unlike Jimin Hoseok doesn’t bother with trying to hide his teeth.  In fact, Hoseok almost seems to revel in making you gasp and squirm away from the pointed fangs he drags across your skin, laughing into the crook of your neck.

How could you have been so stupid as to want to come back here?  Even if were Jimin’s arms wrapped around you and Hoseok’s, would it have really ended any differently than this?  A sob escapes you as you press your eyes closed, gripping onto the leather on which you sit.

“Let’s see how you taste,” Hoseok murmurs against your neck, leaning in so far that you’re forced to tilt your head back and further expose your fragile skin.  You take a deep breath in as you feel his fangs dimple your skin, bracing yourself for the agony you know awaits, but before it can come - before he has the chance to taste a single drop - you’re suddenly wrenched away so forcefully that your arm is very nearly pulled from its socket. You yelp in both pain and surprise as you hit a solid chest and automatically grab onto whomever has dragged you to safety, your eyes snapping open.    

The first thing you see is Hoseok; sat up straight and looking as shocked as you’re sure you do with his fangs still poking out from behind his lips.  He’s staring, wide-eyed, at the person whose soft t-shirt you’re still clutching onto - the person who’s still squeezing your wrist so tight that it hurts - and you don’t even need to look to know who it is that’s saved you.  You can feel him.  Jimin’s presence alone has your blood thronging in your veins, and it feels like a lifetime before he finally speaks, his lips pulling back to expose his teeth as he snarls.

“Mine.”  

Chapter Text

Mine.”

Jimin’s declaration of possession has Hoseok laughing from the moment he hears it, holding up his long-fingered hands to feign innocence.

“Jiminie, relax,” he says, all easy smiles as he leans back into his seat, arms stretching out across the back of the booth, casual as anything.  “I was only going to have a little taste.”  Hoseok winks at you as he says it, as if you’re sharing some sort of joke.  “No hard feelings, right?”  You can’t help but scoff in disbelief at Hoseok blasé attitude. Ever the charming rogue, huh?

Jimin huffs in irritation, chest rising and falling, and it’s at that moment you suddenly realise you’re still holding onto his loose black t-shirt, side pressed to the length of him, his fingers encircling your wrist.  You release your tight grip, nervously smoothing out the creases you’ve left in the cotton and swallowing when you feel just how hard his abdomen is underneath.  Cautiously, you lift your gaze to look at him, the sharp inhale you take catching in your throat.

You’d half convinced yourself that your memories were over-exaggerating Jimin’s good looks, but that’s really not the case.  Now he’s here in front of you again you’re just as spellbound as you were the first time - just as lost for words - and you can’t take your eyes off of him despite the way he’s scowling, his pretty eyes reduced to slits, chest heaving with anger.  He’s terrifying, and beautiful.  

“What’re you doing here?” he hisses at you, shaking you by the arm he’s holding.  “Do you have a death wish, or are you just stupid?”  You shrink a little under his glaring scrutiny, noting the way his nostrils flare with annoyance.

“I-“ Jimin turns his attention to Hoseok, speaking over you angrily.

“And you,” he snaps, “You’re just as reckless.”  He gestures to Leanne’s body disdainfully, and you automatically start to glance around the area, anxiously peering through the dancing bodies to see if any of her friends are making a return.  You spot one of them on the dance floor as Jimin continues to lecture the other male, and you watch as one of the slim brunettes takes off her shoes, grimacing and pointing back to the table, saying something you can’t quite make out.

“Jimin,” you call softly, but he’s too busy scolding Hoseok to hear you, accusing the other of his eyes being bigger than his stomach.  “Jimin!”  Your second shout finally gets his attention, his gaze snapping back to you in irritation.  “We need to go.”  You incline your head towards the approaching girls and Jimin follows your eye line, his eyes widening when he realises what you mean.

“Move,” he barks, and you’re not sure whether he means Hoseok or you, or maybe both, but Jimin drags you along with him anyway as you quickly cut through the crowd, across the dance floor and out through the club doors.

It’s raining hard when you step outside, causing all three of you to pause momentarily under the glow of streetlights, side by side, until suddenly a piercing scream cuts through the hum and chatter of the clubgoers that surround you.  You glance back over your shoulder towards the sound, eyes wide in alarm as they round back to Jimin, looking to him for instruction whilst your heart pounds frantically in your chest.  Unshaken, he pulls a singular fob from his pocket, smartly pressing the button and opening up a sleek, black car conveniently parked almost directly opposite the club.

Hyung,” he calls to the man who’s already crossing the street at a jog, splashing through the puddles. “Drive!”  He throws the fob forward and Hobi  catches it effortlessly above his head before sliding into the driver’s seat in one smooth motion.  Jimin lets go of your arm to runs ahead as you follow on behind, and it’s only when he’s climbing into the backseat and about to shut the door that you realise he intends to leave you behind.

“Jimin,” you call desperately, grabbing onto the slippery car door before he has chance to slam it shut, “Take me with you.”  It’s raining so hard that water is soaking through your clothes, plastering your hair to your skin and dripping from the end of your nose, but you’ll stand here all night if that’s what it takes.

He’s about to start arguing with you, you can tell, but then you hear several loud, angry shouts coming from across the road and when you look over your shoulder see a group of bouncers already stalking towards the car.  

“Please!”  you plead, widening your eyes.  You see Jimin’s look past you, flicker back to your face and then behind you again, hesitating only a second longer before grabbing onto your hand and pulling you inside.  

“Only because I have no choice.”  

The atmosphere inside the car is so stifling that you’re almost thankful for Hobi singing quietly to himself in the front; it’s the only thing that breaks the silence and stops the situation feeling anymore awkward than it already does.  You sit staring at the back of the headrest in front of you, soaking wet from head to toe, and now that the adrenaline rush of your quick exit is fading you’re starting to feel the cold far more than you did before, dizzy from over-exertion.  Attempting to keep yourself warm, you fold your arms around yourself and frown when it doesn’t help at all - not that you really expected it to when all your clothes are sticking to you like this, completely wet-through.

“Tell him your address.”  You jump when Jimin finally speaks, fingernails digging into your arms.  “We’ll drop you off.”  You look over at him, chin wobbling as you struggle to get warm.  He’s sat right against the opposite car door, looking out of the window, and if it weren’t for the occasional passing streetlamp illuminating his face you’d barely be able to make him out at all, dressed all in black as he is.

“I don’t want to go home,” you say after a moment, voice soft and small.  You don’t want to make him angry, you really don’t - not after seeing the way he looked back inside the club - but equally you have no desire to leave him again.  Jimin huffs impatiently, leaning against his hand as he continues to stare out the window.

“Then what do you want?”

“I want…”  You hesitate for a moment, mulling the words over before finally letting them loose, “I’d like to stay with you.”  That gets his attention.  Jimin turns in his seat, incredulous, looking back at you like you’ve lost your mind.

“I almost killed you.”

“But you didn’t.”  He leans toward you slightly, eyes narrowing menacingly, and your heart thuds as you get a whiff of his cologne.  

“Thirty seconds longer… and I would have.”  You see his eyes flicker to your throat and you lick your lips, rubbing your arms nervously as he continues to stare.  He straightens up, looking away again with a sneer.  “What use are you to me?”  The bluntness of his words hurt, your guts twisting, but now he’s asked the question you have to admit he makes a valid point.  What possible motivation could Jimin have to want to keep you around?  You’re probably nothing to him but a walking feed bag.

“You can feed off of me,” you suddenly say, the words tumbling out of your mouth before your brain can convince you it’s a bad idea.  Jimin’s head whirls round to face you again, lips parting in surprise.  “You won’t be able to go there again for a while-“

“We’re in no short supply.”

“-and you said…” You hesitate, thinking back to that night, remembering the words he groaned against your neck, right before he began to feed.  “You said I tasted sweet…”  Jimin’s jaw visibly tenses, encouraging you to take a gamble with what you say next, hoping it’ll be true.  “I’ll bet my blood was even sweeter.”  Your voice is barely above a whisper but you know Jimin hears you just fine.  His blank expression slipping, he licks his lips, looking from you face to your neck and back again.  It doesn’t leave you unaffected, your thighs clenching together under his thorough inspection, but it only lasts a moment before he smirks once more, rolling his eyes away.

“You’re so weak you can barely stand up,” he accuses, “Even a second of lost control on my part would kill you.”  The car lapses into silence, the sound of the windscreen wipers thumping back and forth the only thing to break it.  He keeps you waiting, twisting your fingers nervously in your lap, and you think he’s about to refuse you entirely when he suddenly looks back at you, smirk gone to be replaced by genuine curiosity.  “Why would you willingly choose to risk your life like that?”

Hesitating, you shrug and look out of the window at the world rushing by.  Admitting it to yourself is one thing, but admitting it out loud…

“I liked it.”  Your teeth are starting to chatter inside your mouth now, the cold seeping right through to your bones, but regardless of this your cheeks still manage to find the will to blush as you turn back to him, biting your lip.  “When you fed from me, I liked it.”

Hoseok, who’d been completely silent thus far, suddenly chimes into the conversation from the front seat, whistling tunefully between his teeth.

“She’s a keeper, Jiminie.”  Jimin scowls at the back of Hoseok’s head.

“Stay out of this,” he snaps before turning back to you, running his hand back through his hair. The movement is bewitching, and you wonder if Jimin knows just how attractive the simplest of his gestures are. “You’re crazy.”

“Trust me… I’m thinking the same thing,” you confess with a sardonic laugh, “I mean, yes, I was afraid and yes it hurt but… in that moment right before I almost died…” You shrug your shoulders loosely, already having made peace with the way it made feel even if it defies proper explanation.  “Jimin… I’d never felt more alive.”  

You stare back at each other for a moment, the weight of your words resting heavy between you.  Eventually, Jimin sighs.

“You don’t know what you’re asking for.”  His voice is soft, all trace of anger well and truly gone as he wearily rubs his jaw. “You already know what we are… what it is we can do.  Are you really sure you you really want to live with vampires?”  He emphasises the word with a growl, narrowing his eyes in a gesture that you presume is meant to scare you off. “And not just me, seven of us.”  Hobi just can’t help himself, interrupting with a scoff from the driver’s seat.

“It’s not as if you’d share.”  Jimin shoots a look at Hoseok in the mirror, but even though he’s feigning annoyance you swear you see the corner of his mouth twitch into a smile.

“You’d have to leave everything behind-“

“I haven’t got much to leave,” you retort with a smile and suddenly Jimin’s smiling too, exhaling a breathy laugh as he shakes his head.

“You’re a stubborn one, aren’t you?”  Your smile only gets wider, knowing that for now you’ve won the fight.  Whether you’ll come to regret it is yet to be seen, but for this feeling, this wonderful warmth that blossoms inside your stomach whenever Jimin smiles… it’s worth it.

Now that the matter is settled, it seems as though your weakened body can’t tolerate the cold any longer.  Unable to keep yourself from shaking, you close your eyes and wrap your arms around yourself again, even tighter than before, trying to hold yourself together.

“You’re soaked through,” Jimin observes, as if it’s only just occurred to him.  You suppose that it must not matter to Jimin how much he gets rained on, what with being so cold-blooded himself.  “Hyung, pass me that.”  You open one eye just in time to see Jimin shifting closer to you with jacket in hand, grey hair flopping into his eyes as he looks down on you.  It looks expensive - threads silver embroidered in intricate patterns all through the deepest black material - but he seems to think nothing of placing it over you in an unexpected gesture of kindness.  It’s not exactly warm but at least it’s dry, and within seconds you feel exhaustion overcome you, your eyes flopping shut as sleep pulls you under.

You’re not sure if you’re dreaming or not later, when you feel a tentative hand brush against your hair and a sweet voice tell you you’re home.

Chapter Text

You’re completely disoriented when you next awake, with no idea how long you’ve slept or where you now are.  In fact, it takes you a good thirty seconds or so before you to even remember the events of the night before.  That’s if it was last night. It might’ve been the night before that, for all that you know.  Judging by how groggy you feel, you might well have been asleep for a very long time.

Peering around, you try to discern your unfamiliar surroundings.  Did Jimin bring you in here?  Is this Jimin’s room?  Just the thought that it might be makes your adrenaline surge, and you suddenly feel far more awake and alert than you did five seconds ago, even if the rest of your body hasn’t quite caught up.  It feels like you’ve completely seized up, your your back aching before you’ve even begun to try to move.  With some difficulty you lift your head to see your body below covered in a pretty blue quilt, toes poking out the bottom end, and after looking a little longer you realise you were put to bed on a large, sumptuous chaise lounge.

You turn onto your side, groaning and screwing up your eyes as your muscles ache in protest and opening them once more whilst you stretch your arms out high above your head, fingers wiggling.

“Good morning.”

Gasping, your body lurches into action, sitting up as your eyes unexpectedly find Jimin and you’re started by the greeting that passes lips, the suddenness of your movement knocking the quilt off of your lap.  It’s only now that you’re exposed that you realise how little you’re wearing, and even what you do have on doesn’t appear as though it belongs to you, dressed in only your underwear, a t-shirts and nothing else.  

You look up to see Jimin’s eyes trailing the length of your exposed legs and you hasten to scramble for the quilt, grabbing it from the floor and pulling it over yourself hastily, cheeks on aflame with embarrassment.  That’s the most naked anyone’s ever seen you, and it’s left butterflies swirling restlessly in your stomach.  

“M-morning,” you mumble, tucking the soft blue material even tighter around your frame, avoiding his eyes.

“Actually, it’s evening,” Jimin corrects without missing a beat, the corners of his mouth lifting into a modest smile.

“Evening?”

“You obviously still have a lot of recovering to do.  You slept right through.”  He stands from the edge of the bed that he was perched upon opposite you, one with black sheets and blue pillows that match the quilt under which you’d slept.  This really must be his room then, as you’d thought.  He walks over to a seamless wardrobe, opening it up, and you can’t help but notice how graceful he is as he moves, how soft his footsteps are.  He’s fashionably dressed; a well-fitted white shirt, black jeans with a rip at the knee, and from the closet he selects a smart black jacket which he swings over his shoulders in effortlessly.

“Are you going somewhere?” you ask as Jimin walks past you again, throwing you a sideways glance.

“Out.”  He sits down on the bed, pulling out a pair of black sneakers from underneath the frame.  He stares at you unflinchingly as he pulls them on and your heart rate starts to creep upward, that blush reappearing on your cheeks.  

Out? Does that mean… out to feed?  For some reason the thought of Jimin feeding on anyone other than you makes your stomach turn unpleasantly, and suddenly you’re standing from the couch and walking over to him, your wrist outstretched in a reckless offering.  He looks at it with an amused smirk and then flicks his eyes up to you, tilting his head to the side.

“You’re hungry, right?”  you ask, shifting your weight from one foot to the other, “Go ahead.”  You thrust your wrist forward again, licking your lips nervously, “Please.”  Jimin exhales noisily as he leans backward on the bed, legs spread open wide, that same smirk still stretched across his face.  

“I appreciate the offer,” he says patiently, “But the amount I took from you last time can sustain me for at least a day or two more.”  The way he’s looking at you makes you think he’s considering it, though, despite the words he says.  He glances at your neck where you know the evidence of your last encounter still lingers, and see him swallow heavily before shaking his head and looking away.  “Besides, you’re still too weak.”

You lower your wrist, nodding your agreement as you try not dwell too much on why you’re suddenly feeling so disappointed.  Now that the urgency to offer yourself to him has gone you’re self-conscious again, too, so you wrap your arms around yourself tightly, looking to the floor.  

“Sit,” Jimin instructs, patting the space next to him.  You do, trying for your own sake to leave a safe distance; your thoughts have a nasty habit of turning into a scrambled mess whenever the two of you get too close. You pull at the hem of the t-shirt you’re wearing as you sit - you presume it must be Jimin’s - trying to make it cover a little more of your thighs.  Not that it does much good.

“Jimin?” you say softly, glancing from your lap to his watchful face, “Did you… undress me?”

“Would you prefer I had let Hoseok do it?” he asks with a laugh.  You quickly shake your head, feeling foolish for even asking, but Jimin just smiles.  “Yes, I did.  You would’ve ended up with pneumonia if I’d let you sleep in those wet clothes.”

“Thank you.”  You smile at him, playing with the soft material between your fingers.  It smells like him; like the sweet smell of his aftershave that you already know so well.  The idea of him seeing you practically naked and so very vulnerable is more thrilling than it should be, and once again you find yourself blushing at the mental picture of Jimin undressing you that enters your head.  

“I was just going out to fetch you some clothes of your own… that way you won’t have to keep wearing mine.” Jimin reaches out and tugs at the bottom of your t-shirt playfully, fingertips brushing your bare skin, and just that small amount of contact has you gasping.

“You don’t have to do that, I-“

“I want to.”  Jimin’s eyes suddenly darken, smile dropping from his face as his eyes simultaneously lower to your thighs and then slowly work their way back up, lingering at your midsection.  “I want you in dresses and skirts… silk and satin.”  He almost seems distracted, lost in thought, and your breath starts to quicken from just the tone of his voice, nevermind the way he’s looking at you.  Knowing that Jimin has been imagining what you should wear, dressing you and undressing you in his mind; it’s almost more than you can bear.  You can’t even bring yourself to speak, simply nodding your agreement.  “Is there anything else you might need?”

“Uh…” you hesitate, clearing your throat, the moment broken now you have to focus on the practicalities involved with uprooting your entire life, “Just the… y’know… normal toiletry sort of stuff…”  Jimin nods whilst you flounder, suddenly distracted by the thought of him having to buy you pantyliners.  You force yourself to forge on ahead, rubbing your arm.  “The hospital discharged me with iron tablets, too, so I could do with some of those…  And maybe some orange juice?”  Jimin quirks his head to the side, that playful little smile of his returning at the way you’ve started to ramble.  Seeing his look, you needlessly add, “It helps with absorption, apparently.”

“You’ll be back to full strength in no time.”  Jimin looks pleased by the prospect, tongue darting out to moisten his lips one last time before he finally rises from the bed and heads towards the door.  He opens it but then turns back to face you, pausing.  “Please, stay in here until I get back.  You can sleep some more or watch TV… there’s some books you can read…” He looks around the large room and you follow his eyeline the aforementioned items.  “The others don’t know you’re here yet and I’d hate there to be any-”

“’Accidents?’” you add helpfully, adding the inverted commas with your fingers.  Jimin smiles beautifully, eyes crinkling into crescents, and your heart gives an excited thump.   

“Exactly.”  He gives you one last lingering look and then he’s gone, pulling the door firmly shut behind him.

Finally, you can breathe.

You flop back onto the bed, spreading yourself across it with a quiet, incredulous laugh.  Is all of this even real, or are you still dreaming?  Maybe you never even woke up after Jimin’s assault and this is some fantasy cooked up inside a coma.  If it’s not, though, you can’t even begin to imagine what life might have in store for you moving forwards.  You know what you’d like it to involve; most of it involves Jimin and this very bed… but…

What if he doesn’t even want you in that way?  What if that was all part of the ploy to get you alone, to render you vulnerable?  Maybe that’s how Jimin snares all of his victims.  His body had definitely responded to your kisses, though, you’d felt it when he’d pulled you onto his lap, and you find it hard to imagine he’d have been able to fake that so convincingly.  He’d wanted you, you’re sure of it, and just the thought of having Jimin here stretched out next to you, kissing his way down your stomach, his delicate fingers trailing across your naked skin…

Ok, you really need to stop thinking about that.  You flip onto your front, face down in the sheets, trying to ignore the self-induced ache between your legs.  It’s so tempting to cocoon yourself in the bed covers, surrounded by the smell of him, but you decide not to when you realise how dangerously close you’re getting to borderline stalker behaviour.  Instead, you flip over again with a sigh and sit yourself up, deciding to kill time until Jimin’s return by watching television as he’d suggested, grabbing the remote from his bedside table and turning it on with the volume turned down low.

It works for a little while, a mindless sitcom keeping you entertained for an hour or so until you completely lose focus, distracted by your beautiful surroundings.  Jimin’s bedroom is beautiful, full of expensive looking furniture and decorated in monochrome colours with accents of silver and blue.  There’s a little mess here and there, signs that it’s actually lived in, and not a window in sight from floor to high ceiling.  

You stand and begin wandering around the room as the TV talks to itself in the background, inspecting all the little things dotted around that belong to him.  Jimin appears to have a rather large jewellery collection which, like everything else he seems to own, looks like it must’ve cost more money than you could ever dream of.  You find yourself wondering how on earth he affords all of it - do vampires even have jobs?

Eventually, you find yourself stood outside of Jimin’s closet, and though you know you’re being nosy, and though you know you shouldn’t, you end up taking a little peek inside.  Jimin’s clothes are much like his room, monochrome and blue, but you have to admit he does have very good taste.  Hopefully the clothes he’s picks out for you will be just as pretty…

Just as you’re about to shut the closet doors, your curiosity sufficiently sated, you suddenly hear voices coming from somewhere outside.  Panicking, you look this way and that, the voices becoming steadily louder, and for a second you actually consider climbing into the closet yourself.

“Jin-hyung, I don’t think we should-“ It’s Hobi’s voice you hear, and from the sound of it it seems as though he’s trying to dissuade whoever this ‘Jin’ is from entering the room.  He must be unsuccessful, because in the very next moment Jimin’s door handle turns and the door swings abruptly open.

There wouldn’t have been any time to hide even if you’d tried.

“I knew it!”  The vampire stood in the doorway looks far too pleased with his discovery, stood with his fists on his hips next to an exasperated, flustered Hoseok.  Jin slightly taller than other male, broader too, and visually stunning.  You still prefer Jimin, but that’s a matter of preference rather than a reflection on this new vampire’s looks.  His pastel pink hair matches the shirt he’s wearing, lips rivalling Jimin’s in thickness but with far wider eyes.  “I knew he was hiding something.”  He steps into the room slowly, arms falling to his side and not taking his eyes off you as you automatically start to back away, trying desperately to pull your t-shirt lower.

“Bet you didn’t it’d be this,” Hobi smirks as his companion puts his hands up in what you presume is supposed to be an unthreatening gesture.  He’s approaching you like a wounded animal, as if he’s afraid you’ll dart away at any second, and honestly, you’re not entirely sure you won’t.

The last time you were alone with Hobi he tried to eat you, and who knows what this other vampire’s appetite is like.  He does have kind eyes, though, and his smile seems warm and genuine enough, and when your back hits the opposite wall with a thud Jin mercifully halts his steps too.

“Hello,” he greets softly, lowering his hands, “I’m Seokjin.  Jin.”  Hobi makes your introductions for you, leaning against the doorway with his hands in his pockets, watching the scene with barely contained amusement.  “It’s nice to meet you but… you knew she was here?” Jin questions, turning back to his friend.  Hobi just shrugs and smiles nonchalantly and as Jin turns back to look at you you notice him rolling his eyes.  “You must be hungry,” he continues, and right on cue your stomach decides to rumble.  

It’s true - you can’t remember the last time you ate a good meal, and apparently you’ve been asleep for almost 24 hours, so it’s no wonder you are.  You smile shyly, cheeks turning red with embarrassment and Jin goodnaturedly smiles back.  

“I can make something for you, if you’d like.”  He offers his hand to you and you stare at it, a little distrusting still.  All your instincts tell you that Jin is someone you’d be safe with, at least for now, but then again your gut has been very wrong about this before.

“… I don’t have any other clothes,” you reply after a moment, glancing down at your thighs.  It’s only then that Jin seems to notice your state of undress and politely averts his eyes, and his gentlemanly behaviour only reinforces the good first impression you’ve had of him.  Hobi, of course, is still staring.   

Jin heads straight into one of Jimin’s drawers and takes out a pair of grey sweatpants, handing them to you with a smile.

“You may as well have the pants to match,” he jokes and you smile gratefully, pulling them on Jin busies himself turning off the TV and straightening Jimin’s pillows.  “I can’t remember the last time I had someone to cook for!” Jin comments as he turns to leave, gesturing for you to follow behind, voice barely containing his excitement.  You start after him but then hesitate at the threshold, remembering Jimin’s parting words.

“Jimin said I shouldn’t leave the room, in case-“ Hobi cuts you off with a devilish grin, knocking his elbow against your side.

“Don’t worry beautiful, we won’t bite.”

Chapter Text

You’re not exactly sure what you’d expected a vampire den to look like, but you certainly didn’t think it’d be like this.  As you follow meekly behind Jin, Hobi bringing up the rear, you attempt to get your bearings and memorise the route back to Jimin’s room just in case you need need it later.  You’re not very successful, though, continually distracted by your new surroundings. The seemingly never-ending corridor you’re wandering down is lined with large windows that are covered by thick, red velvet curtains to keep out the evening sunlight, and with each step you take across the hardwood floor the click of Jin’s shoes echoes off of the walls.  

“This place is beautiful,” you say, thinking aloud as you gaze up at the ornate moulding that lines the ceilings. 

“Thank you,” Jin smiles, glancing back at you over his shoulder, “We’ve lived here for quite some time.”  How long is ‘quite some time’ for an immortal creature, anyway? Ten years? A hundred? You’d love to ask exactly how old Jin and Hobi, but asking still seems kind of rude, whether they’re counting or not.  

“And no one knows about you?  About what you are?” 

“We’re discreet,” Hobi answers quickly from behind you, and you hear Jin let out a derisive snort in front.  

Some of us are discreet.”  You look back at the Hobi and have to fight the urge to laugh as you watch him rolls his eyes and lift his hand to imitate the flapping of Jin’s mouth, drawn back to attention when the vampire in front comes to a sudden halt in front a large wooden door that branches off from the hallway to the left.  Jin pushes it open without a hint of effort despite its sturdy appearance, and as you step through the doorway you find yourself inside a grand kitchen space in which he immediately sets to work.  It’s decor is entirely different to the hallway you occupied before; full of mod-cons and gleaming countertops, spacious and airy despite the lack of natural light.  


Hobi walks past you as you absorb it all at a stand-still,  beckoning you over to join him at a long kitchen whilst Jin busies himself in the monstrously sized fridge-freezer, and as you cross the room you find yourself wondering why on earth creatures who don’t actually need to eat - as far as you’re aware - would have need of such an extravagant kitchen.  You ask the question as you sit yourself down next to Hobi, admired the brushed metal tabletop.

“It’s a hobby,” he interjects before Jin can even open up his mouth to reply.  

“But what do you do with all the food if you can’t eat it?”

“I donate it,” Jin replies as his head emerges from fridge, a bowl held between his hands, and you feel your eyes widen in surprise, “Food banks, homeless shelters, that kind of thing.”  

“That’s very generous of you,” you say admiringly, still shocked that a vampire would even think to do something so selfless -  it’s certainly more than you’ve ever done.  Jin just smiles and shrugs as he continues to potter around the kitchen, rummaging in this drawer and that.  

“Do you like Korean food?” 

“I’ve never had it,” you reply, returning his shrug.  You can’t say you’ve ever been that experimental with food - you’ve never really had the money to be -  but you’re certainly willing to try given the chance. 

“You’re in for a treat then,” he grins you, sounding so confident in his abilities that you find it impossible to doubt him. Jin becomes a whirlwind of activity after that, turning on stoves and putting water to boil, pots and pans clattering noisily as you watch on, amused by just at home he appears to be. 

Hobi sits quietly next to you for the most part, several minutes passing before before you feel him start to fidget beside you, drumming his fingertips on the table.  You get the feeling he’s really not someone that’s used to sitting still for very long, and just as that thought is crossing your mind he suddenly says your name, calling your attention.

“I’m sorry about last night,” he tells you quietly, as though he’d rather Jin didn’t hear, and for once Hobi looks very sincere, glancing down at his lap when you turn to face him.  “I know I scared you.”  He looks up as you reply, smiling meekly.  

“I won’t hold it against you,” you assure haltingly, and his small smile brightens into a toothy, exaggerated grin at your words, “A vampire’s gotta eat, I suppose.” 

“In my defence, you did deliver yourself straight into my lap.  How’s a guy supposed to resist something that?”  You end up laughing and blushing all at once as Hobi gives you a roguish wink to emphasise his point, something that just makes him smile all the more.  

It’s almost impossible to equate the man that’s sat next to you now, grinning as he is, with the bloodthirsty creature you met two nights ago.  He seems so playful, so harmless - like a completely different person - and you struggle to remind yourself what a bad idea it’d be to let your guard.  Charming or not, you did watch him murder someone with little to no remorse. 

Leanne.  You wonder if her family are grieving right now, whether they’re arranging some pretty pink funeral for her…

Jin plonks some dirty silverware into the sink with a clatter, breaking you out of your morbid thoughts with a start and making you jump in your seat.  Your behaviour earns you two raised eyebrows from Hobi but you just give him a shaky smile, trying to shrug it off dismissively.

Thankfully, you’re soon given ample distraction to take your mind off things when the ruckus Jin was making summons another vampire you’ve yet to meet. He emerges from a door over the opposite side of the room from the one in which you’d entered, and as he steps inside he ‘tssks’ loudly, rubbing his eyes with his fist.  

Hyung, do you have to make so much noise?”  he asks Jin gruffly, looking more than just a little disgruntled.  You’d always been under the impression that vampires didn’t need to sleep, but this new guy certainly looks like he does.  Or was, rather, if his slightly dishevelled state is anything to go by.  The loose white shirt he’s wearing is half flopped open, exposing an expanse of smooth, creamy skin, his black hair in adorable disarray, and despite the annoyance that creasing his features you find him absolutely stunning to behold.  

The new arrival must feel you staring, or else you’re breathing too loud, because not a moment later his attention has rounded onto you, perfectly alert now he’s aware of your presence.  

“What’s this?”  he asks, directing the question to Hobi rather than you.  His narrow, dark eyes seem to almost look through you as he approaches where you’re sat to sit himself opposite, the intensity of his gaze never wavering.  

“She’s Jimin’s,” Hobi replies without a moment’s hesitation and the raven-haired vampire’s head tilts to the side, inspecting you as though he’s performing some sort of examination.  The way his eyes pass over your skin makes all your goosebumps stand on end, unable to maintain eye contact for fear of bursting into flame.  

“Yoongi,” he offers after a moment, extending a long-fingered hand for you to shake.  You stare at it dumbly for a second, still too caught up in trying to get over the fact that Hobi just so casually declared you as Jimin’s property to conduct yourself like a normal human being.  You have the feeling you should be insulted at the way they’re speaking of you but some reason it doesn’t seem to bother anywhere near as much as it should.   

You take Yoongi’s hand once you notice him raising an eyebrow at you, and he holds it firmly as you shake and tell him your name, feeling pleased that you’d managed not to flinch at the coolness of his skin.  Up until now Yoongi’s expression had stayed rather blank, almost disinterested, even, but as he loosens his grip and withdraws his hand Yoongi’s bow-shaped lips quirk up into the briefest of smiles, the creasing of his eyes doing something strangely pleasant to your insides.   

“Does he know she’s here?” Yoongi asks, turning to look over his shoulder as Jin does something that seems to involve a lot of steam.

“I imagine we’d know about it if he did,” Jin replies without turning and you hear Hobi grunt his agreement whilst Yoongi ‘tssk’s once more. 

“Who’s he?” you enquire, curiosity getting the better of you as you watch their exchange.  Whoever he might be, you get the distinct impression that this person finding out about your presence won’t be a pleasant encounter.  Maybe you really should have stayed in Jimin’s room, like he said?  

Yoongi is about to answer you, mouth already open and about to speak when someone suddenly comes barrelling into the kitchen at full speed, skidding over to Jin’s side as his knee high socks send him sliding across the tile.  

“Aish, what smells so good?!”  You watch with amusement as this new vampire hounds Jin, draping himself all over the other as he tries to get a glimpse of what culinary delights lie in wait.  His childlike mannerisms and bright blonde hair sit at complete odds with the deep voice you’d just heard, as does his height.  You’re fairly certain he’s taller than Jin, actually, though it’s difficult to tell when he keeps on hopping around.  

“It’s not for you, Taehyung-ah.”  The two of them start to squabble as Jin tries to patiently remind this ‘Taehyung’ that unless he wants an evening full of stomach cramps he’d really better stick to a blood-only diet.

Another vampire enters the kitchen only moments after the last, distracting you from the other pair, and it’s obvious from the second you see him that this one must be the youngest of the group.  He’s fairly tall and slight, with light brown hair and a heart-wrenchingly pretty face, and the within seconds of entering the room his hazel doe eyes land on you.  He stops mid-step as soon as they do, his eyes growing ever wider and giving him the appearance of a rabbit caught in car headlights.  A particularly cute rabbit at that.  

“-And I’m not cleaning up after you if you puke everywhere.”

Hyung, one time that happened!”

“Why are you guys so loud? God.”  There’s so much going on that you don’t know where to look, settling on Yoongi to see he’s got his eyes tightly closed, a grimace on his face as he runs his fingers roughly through his hair. 

“Kookie, what’s wrong with your face?”  Taehyung’s loud question interrupts the latest arrivals awkward staring, and as you look to back to Taehyung the exuberant vampire suddenly notices you’re there, his mouth popping open in surprise.  “Oh!”  Hobi starts to laugh beside you, amused by Taehyung’s obliviousness as the blonde comes straight over to the table, flopping down beside Yoongi.  “Hi!” he greets cheerfully, waving regardless of being sat right opposite you and playfully winking as you wave right back.  

How are they all so good-looking?! Taehyung’s features are absolutely flawless, his face so perfectly put together that you start to feel decidedly inferior under so much undivided attention.   

“Hey, maknae, come sit,” Hobi calls to Kookie, who’s continued to loiter nervously in the doorway.  He looks around the rest of the group, over to you and then back again, still seeming a little unsure, and then slowly makes his way over to take a seat next to Taehyung, whom immediately slings his arm around Kookie’s shoulders. 

You introduce yourself, giving them your friendliest smile in hopes of making a good impression.  

“Good to meet you Taehyung.  Kookie.”

“It’s Jungkook,” Kookie pipes up, his voice coming out more masculine than you’d anticipated.  He pauses while he places his elbows on the table, calling attention to his long, vascular forearms.  “But you can call me Kookie… if you want to.”

“Thanks.”  He’s so cute that you can’t stop yourself from screwing up your nose a little as he smiles bashfully, his eyes flicking back and forth between you and the others as he struggles to maintain eye contact.  Hoseok leans in and whispers in your ear.  “You can call me noona, Kookie, if you like.” 

Two things happen simultaneously when you say this; everyone around the table suddenly bursts out laughing, save Jungkook, of course, whose expression turns into something that looks like he’s willing the ground to swallow him up whole.  

“What?  What did I say?”  you ask quickly, your voice jumping an octave higher as you look accusingly back at Hoseok.  You knew you shouldn’t have trusted what he said, but none of them seem in a rush to fill you in, simply laughing all the more as you become equally as flustered.  

“Ok, ok, calm down children.”  Jin appears quite suddenly at your side, placing down a small bowl of steaming hot rice and what looks some sort of vegetable marinated in… something. “Kimchi,” he explains, sitting down next to you and handing you a fork.  “I hope you like it.”  You’re sure you will, if the smell is anything to go by, and you’re so hungry at this point that you’re pretty sure you’d wolf anything down.  You stir it, blowing on the rice to cool it down and feeling very aware of the way the whole table has now fallen silent to watch you take your first mouthful.  Pressure, much? 

“Mm,” you confirm, mouth stuffed full, looking up at Jin and giving him a nod.  He looks pleased, eyes creasing into crescents as he beams merrily back at you.

“Ah!  I was wrong!”  Taehyung suddenly announces, leaning forward across the table so close that his face is almost in your bowl, “It’s you that smells so good!”  Yoongi grabs the exuberant vampire by the shoulder and pulls him back into his seat, scowling disapprovingly. 

“That wasn’t very polite,” Jungkook scold, sounding far older than he appears.

“But she does!” Taehyung persists as his face falls into an adorable looking pout, “It’s a compliment!”  Yoongi just shakes his head, releasing Taehyung’s shoulder and rolling his eyes at his antics.  

“Um… thanks, I think?”  you say once you’ve finished your mouth full, licking your lips.  It’s certainly not the worst thing you’ve ever been told. 

“Sniff all you want, but she’s off-limits,” Hobi reiterates for those who didn’t hear it before, watching you take another mouthful.

“Ah, that’s not fair,” Taehyung complains, pulling a face.  Do you get a say here?  You’re not even sure what exactly they’re even talking about - is it your just your blood or something more than that?  You keep catching Yoongi looking at you in a way that has you feeling unsure, the hairs rising on the back of your neck, though not in a way that’s unpleasant.  From what you’ve seen so far, hunger and lust seems to look remarkably similar when it comes to vampires, so who the hell knows?

“What’s unfair Taehyung?”  an unfamiliar voice asks from the corner of the room, and all of a sudden Taehyung seems to sit up straighter, the playful look falling from his face.  You look up with your fork already halfway into your mouth to see the seventh and final vampire that belongs to this little family walking straight towards you.

He’s taller than the rest and slim in figure, standing impeccably dressed in a smart black suit with no shirt underneath.  He’s gorgeous, with a sumptuously round face and full, pouty lips that are curved into a smile.  He even has dimples, one in each cheek, and you’d think they were cute if it weren’t for the dangerous glint in his eyes.

For the first time in days you find yourself feeling very, very afraid.     

He strides right up to you, hands held deep in his pockets, inspecting you from head to toe, and as he reaches your side he quickly grabs the back of your neck, twisting your head to the side without a hint of gentleness.  He’s looking at the marks on your neck, you realise, the purple-green bruises that Jimin had left behind, and none of the others are doing a thing to try and stop him. 

“So, who ordered take-out?”

Chapter Text

Not one of them speaks up right away, and sitting opposite you, you can see Jungkook look nervously to V before Jin finally answers. 

“Ah, Namjoon-ah, maybe we should wait until Jimin-“

“Of course, it would be Jimin,” Namjoon interjects, looking down at you, still smiling that deadly smile.  His grip on your neck is hardly gentle; in fact he’s starting to make it difficult for you breathe.   You try your best not to show any weakness even though you’re afraid.  Somehow you get the feeling that acting vulnerable would be a big mistake, so you do your best to keep looking up at him, feigning defiance.  “You’re just his type.” 

“He didn’t plan to-“

“I didn’t ask for any of your excuses, Hoseok.”  Hoseok visibly deflates, mouth closing promptly at Namjoon’s words.  The tall vampire leans down to come face-to-face with you, so close his nose almost touches yours.   All of your breath leaves you as Namjoon’s fingers squeeze even tighter, your pulse starting to race in your neck.  “What am I going to do with you, little one?” he whispers menacingly, cocking his head to the side. 

“Cooking again Seokjin?” Jimin’s familiar voice, light and playful in tone, comes ringing through the door as he pushes it open with his hip, a shopping bag in each hand, and everyone’s head turns to look at him.  On seeing the scene Jimin stops dead, eyes widening in surprise and then becoming even narrower than usual when he notices the way Namjoon’s hand is curled around your neck.  “Let go of her,” he snarls, dropping the bags at his side and stepping forward.

“You didn’t bring enough to share, Jimin-ah?” Namjoon mocks, obviously un-phased and unthreatened by the murderous look on Jimin’s face.  The younger vampire growls, baring his teeth in a flare of rage and Jin suddenly stands, walking to Jimin’s side and placing a hand on his shoulder.  He whispers something to his friend and Jimin seems to make a considered effort to relax, dropping his aggressive posture with a roll of his shoulders. 

“I was going to talk with you when you got back.”  Jimin’s eyes dart to yours, his eyebrows pulling together in concern for a split second before he looks back to Namjoon.  “We didn’t think it’d be till morning.”

“So you decided to sneak in a little treat in the meantime?”  Namjoon squats behind your chair, his hand still on your neck, and you gasp as he rests his chin on your shoulder.  “I thought our little Jimin was too good for blood whores?”  You watch barely controlled anger flash behind Jimin’s eyes before closing your own and trying not to panic as Namjoon presses his nose right against your throat and inhales.  “Ah, she does smell delicious though.”

Namjoon-Hyung.”  You’re surprised by the note of panic you can hear in Jimin’s voice, “Please, let her go.”  Namjoon lets out an exaggerated sigh against your skin that makes you shiver and then he finally stands, releasing his hold on you. 

As soon as you’re free you immediately rush out of your chair and to Jimin, thudding into his chest with the force of your effort, yours heaving with deep breaths you can finally take.  Surprisingly, he wraps both of his arms around you as you clutch onto his shirt, fighting back the urge to cry. 

“Do something with her,” Namjoon states gruffly, “Then come back here so we can have that ‘talk’.”

“Come on.”  Jimin gently pushes you away and takes hold of your wrist to guide you from the room, leaving the shopping bags behind.  He walks briskly, a step ahead of you, and you can tell just from the tenseness of his shoulders that his temper is frayed, on the verge of breaking again.  “Why didn’t you do as I asked?” he snaps, still looking forward. 

That’s all it takes for hot, salty tears to start rolling down your cheeks, all the emotion you were trying to hold back in front of Namjoon suddenly breaking free.  You wipe your eyes with your free hand, following dutifully behind, and try not to let your voice waver as you reply. 

“Hoseok and Jin found me.”  You hear Jimin huff in frustration and another wave of tears starts to fall.  “They said it’d be fine.  Jin said he’d cook for me and I was hungry-“

“You should have told me that before I left!”  You’re almost at his room now and Jimin hasn’t looked back at you once, growing seemingly more aggravated with every step he takes. 

“Jimin, I’m sorry,” you cry, your voice finally breaking as a sob sticks in your throat.  Jimin pauses, holding his bedroom door open and looking to the floor, his shoulders sagging.  “I didn’t mean…”

He turns to look at you over his shoulder, and when he does the frustration in his expression seems to fall away, his eyes and mouth softening at the sight of your tears.  Jimin pulls you into the room, pushing the door shut behind you, and then takes your face in both his hands.  Using his thumbs he gently wipes away your tears, his head slightly tilted to the side, and when you have to sniff to stop your nose from running he smiles the smallest of smiles, so little it’s barely even there. 

“Did he hurt you?”  he asks after he’s wiped the last of your tears away and you’ve managed to regain some sort of composure.  You shrug, giving him an embarrassed smile. 

“Only as much as you saw.”  Jimin presses his fingers to your jaw and tilts your head slightly, inspecting where Namjoon’s fingers lay with a frown on his face, and when he’s finally satisfied that there’s no obvious damage – apart from what he did before – he steps back and takes his hands from you entirely.  You wish he wouldn’t have.  His touch was so comforting and you miss it instantly. 

“My bathroom’s through there,” he says after a moment, pointing to a door on the other side of his bedroom that you’d neglected to notice before.  “There should be everything you need.  Go take a bath while I sort all this out.”  It’s a command not a suggestion, you notice, but nonetheless you nod.  You feel like you’ve caused Jimin enough trouble today. 

“I’ll be back soon.”  He makes to leave and then pauses, a smile pulling at his lips, “Please, stay put this time.” 

“I will,” you smile back.  “Thank you, Jimin.”  He leaves, closing the door softly behind him. 

You let out a big, shaky exhale as soon as he’s gone, pressing the heels of your palms to your eyes.  You feel like you want to cry again, and the temptation to just curl yourself up in Jimin’s sheets is almost overwhelming.  He probably wouldn’t be pleased if he got back and you were still a mess, though, so you steel yourself and head to the bathroom, hoping that a long soak might make you feel better. 

Jimin’s bathroom, unsurprisingly enough, is once again completely monochrome.  That’s not to say it’s boring or disappointing though, not by a long stretch.  The mirror above the sink is nothing short of grandiose, stretching almost the span of the entire wall, and both the shower and bathtub are more than big enough for two people to fit inside.  The bathtub really is stunning, situated as a feature point in the centre of the room, roll-topped and claw-footed.  You waste no time in running the water and climbing in, revelling in it being deep enough for you to sink down into the warmth right up to your chin.  You wash your hair and your body with the different sweet-smelling potions and lotions you’d found and then lie back, content to rest your head and close your eyes. 

 

“Sleeping again so soon?” 

You startle, sitting up in the bath so fast that some of the water spills over the side and onto the floor.  Jimin is sat across from you on the closed lid of the toilet, one leg crossed over the other and sporting a black eye and a split lip. 

“What happened to you?” you gasp, and then suddenly remember how very naked you are.  You sink back into the water sharply, grateful that it’s so deep that it’s unlikely Jimin saw anything more than just the tops of your breasts.  Still, even that has left you flustered and blushing scarlet red. 

“Namjoon made sure I had no doubt how displeased he is,” Jimin answers you sourly, fingering his bruised cheekbone. 

“I’m so sorry,” you say again, emphatically, but he just shakes his head with a half-hearted smile, letting his hand drop. 

“Don’t be.  You meeting the others turned out to be a good thing.”  He gets up from the toilet and strolls to the other side of the room as he speaks, fetching you a towel from some shelves. “When it came to a vote it was six versus one for letting you stay.”  Jimin walks toward you, towel in hand, and though you know the water should provide adequate cover you still fold your arms across your breasts and cross your legs, just in case. 

“That’s good to know.”  You pause, strangely happy that you’ve been accepted into this unusual family.  For the most part, anyway.  “Namjoon doesn’t seem like the rest of you.”  Jimin glances away and purses his lips, holding back something, you think, but all Jimin says is,

“He’s our leader.  He has to be strict to keep us safe.”    

“But where did you all meet? Why’s he the leader?”  Jimin cocks his head the side, a bemused smile on his face as he looks down at you in the tub. 

“So many questions,” he teases, tutting, “That’s a long story, one for another day.”  You let out a little huff of frustration and Jimin actually laughs as he hands you the towel.  “Hurry up, I’ve got things to show you.” You take it one-handedly, still covering yourself with the other, skin prickling with excitement from wondering what Jimin could have in store. 

He leaves you to exit the bath, something you’re glad of.  For a while there you’d been thinking he was going to hang around the whole time, and that’s one embarrassment you can certainly do without.  You towel dry your hair quickly and then wrap it around yourself, finally heading back into Jimin’s bedroom when you realise you’re stuck without any clean clothes to put on. 

When you enter the room you see Jimin relaxing back on his bed, one ankle crossed over the other, a TV remote in his hand, flicking back and forth between stations.

“Hi,” you announce softly, pulling the towel tighter around yourself.  If you didn’t feel self-conscious before you certainly do when Jimin’s eyes snap to you and he turns off the TV.

“I got everything I could think of,” he tells you, gesturing to shopping bags he was holding earlier that are sat next to the bed.  “You just need to choose.”  You walk nervously forward and collect the bags in one hand, aware of Jimin staring at you the whole way.  They’re heavy and obviously very full; you can’t believe he picked all this out just for you. 

“I’ve never been very good at picking out clothes.”  You smile uncertainly.

“Trust me, I know what’ll look good on you.”  You feel your cheeks start to redden and you chew on your lip as Jimin’s eyes drift over your body.  What if he’s wrong?  What if he thinks you look awful?  “I’ll be waiting.”  Nodding, you retreat back into the bathroom with your bags and set about trying to find something to wear. 

He wasn’t kidding about wanting to see you in dresses; there’s not a pair of jeans or sweats in sight.  There’s dress after dress in varying styles and lengths, cute little skirts and soft sweaters, floaty blouses and shirts.  Jimin really does have exceptional taste – there’s nothing you can find that you don’t like.  You dread to think how much this must all have cost. Even the underwear from an expensive designer brand that you’ve never dreamed about owning, and god, how you blush as you sort through all the different panties and bra sets he’s bought.  Lace, lace and more lace, silky long-line bralettes and french knickers that leave nothing to the imagination. You’ve never worn anything like it in your life.  But then, you’ve never really had anyone to wear that sort of thing for before, have you?

Eventually you pick out something that seems at least relatively modest; a black satin matching pant and bra set and a black velvet dress on top.  You know how much Jimin seems to like black, after all.  The dress has long sleeves and has a high neck line that helps to conceal some of the bruising to your shoulders, though not your neck.  You realise once you’re dressed that Jimin seems to have forgotten to buy you any shoes.  Perhaps he wants to keep you barefoot, though you can’t imagine why. 

Thankfully you manage to find a hairbrush somewhere in amongst Jimin’s bathroom paraphernalia and even a hairdryer too.  You decide it’s worth making him wait the ten extra minutes it’ll take to dry your hair, no one likes the drowned rat look after all, and once you’re done you take a good, long look in the ginormous mirror.  You don’t look half bad, actually, although you could definitely do with some make up.  The blood you lost is still making you look far too pale, but now that you think about it, perhaps that means you’ll fit right in.  

Finally, with one big bracing breath, you leave the safety of the bathroom.  The TVs playing again when you walk in and Jimin’s still sat on the bed leaning back against the wall, but this time his eyes are closed, hands folded in his lap, chest rising and falling so steadily you guess he must be asleep.  You approach him slowly, thankful that your bare feet mean you move almost silently, taking advantage of being the one of the two of you that’s awake, for once.  He’s caught you sleeping far too many times already, as far as you’re concerned.

Jimin looks even more otherworldly asleep than he does awake.  Like some sort of perfectly sculpted limestone statue that’s only marred by the vicious bruise purpling his cheekbone and the slight swelling of his bottom lip.  You pad your way closer, wanting to use this chance to look as much as you can while you can, eventually sitting yourself gingerly on the side of the bed.  By some miracle, he carries on sleeping.  He’s so pretty for a man.  His dark eyelashes are fanned out across his pale cheeks, his rosy-red lips just slightly parted.  If only you were brave enough to close the rest of the metre gap between you and steal a kiss… You want to so badly that you find yourself leaning forward slightly, just that little bit closer –

Jimin’s eyes suddenly open, and you jump out of your skin.  You spring from the bed, like a naughty child caught in the act, bright red in the face and stuttering nonsensical apologies as Jimin laughs over you, harder than you’ve ever seen him laugh before.  Eventually, you start to see the funny side too, laughing along with your head in your hand and a hand on your hip.

“Did you do that on purpose?”

“Not at all,” he replies through his remaining giggles, “I must just have very good timing.” 

When the laughter finally stops there’s a pregnant pause between the two of you and then all of a sudden it’s like Jimin actually sees you, a slow smile spreading across his face.  He looks you up and down as you stand there wondering what to do, chewing on your lip with your arms folded across your middle.  “Arms down,” he tells you, almost a little sharply, and you do as he asks straight away, “Turn around.”  Slowly, you turn on the spot, trying to ignore the way your heart has started bounding excitedly in your chest.  When you finally come back to face Jimin his bottom lip is caught in his teeth and that hungry look is back again.  Gone is the playful Jimin that was laughing with you only a moment ago. 

You have to fight the urge to flinch when he abruptly rises from the bed in one smooth movement. 

“You look just how I imagined.”  Jimin’s voice is slow and soft as he begins to circle you, viewing you from every angle.  You can’t bring yourself to meet his eyes, too afraid of what you might see there.  “I have one more thing for you.”  Your own insatiable curiosity has you looking upward to see what he means, but Jimin is stood behind you just out of sight.  As you crane your head round to see you suddenly catch a flash of black being lifted up and over your head, coming to rest across your neck, and there’s a second of blind panic where you think means to choke you.  You gasp, adrenaline surging as your body readies itself to fight, but then you realise that the material Jimin has placed around your neck is just that, a thick band of black that he’s only fastening, not pulling tight. 

“I want you to keep it on,” Jimin explains from behind you, voice dropping to a whisper, “So everyone knows you’re mine.”  You swallow hard, your mouth suddenly dry, unable to do anything but stare straight ahead.  He means it to be a collar, then.  A mark of ownership.  Surely the bruises on your neck do that enough?

As if he’s read your thoughts Jimin comes to your side and pushes your hair back from your neck, your breath catching at the brush of his fingers.  The dress and the collar have gone a long way to cover everything up, but there’s still evidence of Jimin’s attack lingering there between the two.  He trails his fingertip over what can still be seen, eyes following its path. 

“I won’t mark you like this again.  It was vulgar of me.”  You fight the urge to tell him that you didn’t mind, that you like having those marks there as a constant reminder…

“What about your marks?” you ask, surprisingly yourself by boldly reaching out to touch his cheekbone.  His skin is so unnaturally cool. Jimin takes a swift hold of your wrist and lowers your hand from his face.

“I heal quickly,” he assures you, dismissing your concerns with a shake of his head.

“Would feeding help?”  Jimin laughs, letting go of your wrist and stepping backwards, running his hand through his hair.

“You’re temptation enough, kitten, don’t keep tempting me further.”  You nod, feeling a little embarrassed.  You know as well as he does that you’re not strong enough yet but for some reason you can’t stop yourself from offering.  He’s hurt because of you, and you want to help. 

Jimin walks past you, heading to his closet.  He pulls out a large duffel bag that looks full and heavy, then turns back to you again. 

“I need to go.  Namjoon has asked me to do something and it’d be unwise not to.”  You can’t help but feel apprehensive about what that ‘something’ might be, especially since it seems to involve a conspicuous looking duffel bag full of unknown items, but you just nod agreeably, thinking that’s that probably another question for another day.  It’s not like it could be anything more illegal than killing people for their blood, could it? 

Jimin pauses next to you.

“Sleep, if you want, or go and explore the house.  The others have promised me your safety.  Just stay away from the third floor, that belongs to Namjoon.”  Again you nod, happy to agree to those terms.  You’ll be staying away from his as much as possible if you get your way.  Jimin runs his fingers along the edge of your collar, eyes drifting over you one last time, and just that one action takes your breath away.  “I’ll be back in the morning.”

Chapter Text

You are pretty tired again, truth be told, but the desire to explore the house as Jimin suggested proves too tempting of an option to ignore.  You set out, thinking that perhaps it’s a good idea for you to try and get into a nocturnal schedule yourself, if that’s what everyone else is doing too.  You wander down the corridor again first, taking the time to look at all the lovely paintings hanging on the walls.  Someone certainly seems to have good taste in artwork, although you can’t hazard a guess as to who it might be. 

Peeping inside the door that leads into the kitchen you find it silent and empty now, so you carry on down the corridor until you come to a grand entrance hall.  The main staircase, a dark mahogany coloured wood, dominates the centre of the room, the balconies of which overlook the entrance before branching off to the rooms of the second floor.  The floor is a finely polished wood too, and once again you find yourself glad that your bare feet allow you to move almost silently through the house. 

Suddenly, the sound of laughter catches your attention, coming from a door that stands ajar at the back of the hall.  You head over cautiously, wanting to ensure that you’re not about to come unexpectedly face-to-face with Namjoon any time soon.  Peering through the gap in the door you see a large living room with several couches surrounding a TV on which colourful images are flashing, and on further inspection you realise that both Taehyung and Hoseok are sat on the floor with legs crossed and wide smiles playing video games.  Jin’s watching, laughing along as the boys tease each other when either of them loses, and Jungkook is sat on the couch nearby with his knees drawn up to his chest and what looks like a sketchpad in front of him, concentrating hard.  You can’t believe how normal they look – like a standard group of friends just hanging out together and having fun.  Watching this you’d never suspect there was anything more secret or sinister about any of them. 

Part of you is tempted to go inside and join them – they do certainly look like they’re having fun – but they’re being so loud, talking to each other excitedly in Korean, that it feels a little overwhelming.  You head in a different route instead, taking the corridor that leads in the opposite direction to Jimin’s room. As the sound of laughter fades into the distance, another sound replaces it.  You can hear soft, gentle music coming from ahead and you follow it curiously.  It’s a piano, you realise, playing a slow lament full of feeling, though you can’t tell if it’s a record that’s playing or someone playing themselves. 

Eventually you come to the door from which the music is coming, and by now you’re able to tell that it is indeed someone playing the piano; you can hear the soft press of the keys as each note plays.  Slowly, you push open the door, trying not to disturb whoever is playing. 

Yoongi is sat at the piano, fingers moving in perfect synchronicity as he smoothly plays the melody.  He keeps flawless pace and rhythm even though he has his eyes closed, his body swaying slightly, and as you watch him play, leaning against the doorframe, you find yourself entranced by the sight and sound.  He plays so very beautifully, you’re in awe of him.

The song slowly fades to an end and Yoongi’s long fingers leave the keys, pushing the roll of his shirt sleeves back up to his elbows.

“You don’t have to just lurk in the doorway,” Yoongi says loudly, startling you out of your reverie.  You feel your cheeks go pink, glancing down at the floor, but even though you’re embarrassed to be caught loitering you still walk inside.  His eyes open as he turns his head to look at you and you notice them widen marginally, running from bottom to top as he takes in your outfit.  When you lean on the piano with a smile Yoongi looks off to the side, smiling sardonically.  “Jimin’s dressed you up like forbidden fruit,” he chuckles.  Was that a compliment?  You feel your cheeks redden even more, whatever it may be, so you try to gloss over it, changing the subject.

“You play beautifully,” you tell him genuinely. 

“Thank you.”  He plays a note or two one-handedly, peering down at the keys.  “I’ve had a lot of time to practice.  Do you play?”  You shake your head regretfully.

“I had a few lessons as a child… I was never very good at it.”  Yoongi shifts over on the piano stool and pats the fabric next to him, inviting you to come sit.  After a moment’s hesitation, you do.  “I wish I’d tried harder.  I love music.”  You prod tunelessly at a couple of keys, trying to ignore the feeling of Yoongi’s eyes on you. 

“I’d be happy to teach you, if you like.”  You look up with an eager smile.

“Yes, please, I’d like that.”

“Watch,” he instructs, slowly playing a C-scale for you to copy, each delicate finger crossing over the next and back again.  His hands are mesmerising graceful, and you’re so caught up just watching them that for a second you don’t even realise he’s stopped playing.  Clearing your throat you attempt to copy what he showed you, and though you manage the notes thanks to the few lessons you did have, your hand looks so much clumsier than his, the notes so much more clunky.  “Not bad.”  You feel like Yoongi is being over-generous but thank him anyway.  “Again.” 

Over and over you practice the scale.  Once you’ve successfully mastered the notes he starts to count over you as you play, helping you keep rhythm and sound smoother.  You’re feeling pretty pleased with your progress at that point, but when Yoongi tries to get your left hand playing as well as your right it gets far too complicated, your fingers tripping over one another.

He laughs as you growl with frustration, knocking his shoulder against yours. 

“It’s just your first try,” he assures you as you go again, the notes getting sloppier the more exasperated you become. 

“Easy for you to say,” you moan, “You’ve got all eternity to practice.”  Yoongi chuckles softly.

“Good point.”  You feel him watching as you carry on, determined to get it right at least once before you call it a day.  Or night, rather.  “I hope Jimin wasn’t too hard on you,” he says a few minutes more.  You stop playing, looking up from the keys and to his face instead.  Everything about him is so angular; his eyes, his jaw.  Despite this he manages to look somehow soft, with his black bangs dangling into his eyes. 

“Not as hard as Namjoon was on him,” you reply, picturing Jimin’s wounded face in your mind and realising that that ache you’re feeling in your gut is because, even after this short amount of time, you miss him. 

“They’ve been in worse fights, believe me,” Yoongi smirks, starting to play a simple, lively melody with one hand. 

“Not you?”  He laughs breathily again, shaking his head.

“I might be harsh and cold sometimes, but I don’t have a temper like Jimin.” 

“You don’t seem harsh and cold to me,” you blurt out.  You can see how people might think that of him, granted.  Yoongi’s default expression, unless he’s smiling or laughing, looks pretty miserable.  Yoongi abruptly halts what he’s playing for a second, smiling down at the piano keys. 

“Don’t let his temper fool you though; Jimin’s the softest of all of us.”  He recommences the tune, his fingers almost dancing as he plays.  You wonder if what Yoongi says is true; is Jimin really so soft?  You’ve certainly seen his temper in action, and you’ve no doubt that he can be… domineering and forceful, but soft?  Perhaps you just don’t know him well enough yet to see that side of him.  You chew on the inside of your mouth thoughtfully, hoping you will do soon, when Yoongi stops playing again.  “Sorry, you’re the one supposed to be practising.”

“No, please, you play.  I think I’ve had enough for today.” 

“Alright,” he concedes, starting to play with both hands again, his foot bobbing against the pedals underneath.  “We should probably be social after this, join the others.”

“Ugh,” you jest, scrunching up your nose in distaste, “You’re probably right.”  Yoongi smiles widely, holding back laughter. 

“Perhaps just one more song?”


 

You and Yoongi do go and join the rest of the guys, eventually.  Jin is considerate as always, checking, as Yoongi did, that you’re alright after the earlier events while Jungkook exchanges shy smiles with you from the sofa opposite.  After much persuasion you agree to have a go at the racing game they’ve been playing, despite not being much of a gamer, and much to Hoseok’s amusement and Taehyung’s frustration you seem to have been blessed with beginner’s luck.  Although, could you call it beginner’s luck when you seem to beating each and every one of them?  In the end Taehyung ends up snatching the controller back, inspecting it suspiciously as you laugh at his absolute dismay.  You’re more than happy to let them have the game back, good at it or not, it’s really not your thing.

You’re just tucking into a pizza that Jin put in the oven for you when Jimin finally gets home.  He comes walking into the living room looking weary, his normally neat grey hair a mess and on the front of his shirt… is that blood?

“Aigo!  Don’t sit there!”  Jin cries just as Jimin slumps into an armchair, blood stains on the fabric be damned.  Jin ‘tssks’ but Jimin gives him a withering side-eye, clearly not in the mood to be lectured.   

“Jimin, did you have trouble?” Taehyung asks as he pauses the game, momentarily distracted from his reign of victory over Hoseok.  

“You look like shit,” Yoongi comments dryly, his headphones still on but obviously not too loud.  Perhaps these guys have been desensitised to blood – you guess they must be – because you seem to be the only one that can’t stop staring at the dinner-plate sized bloodstain right in the middle of Jimin’s t-shirt.

“There were more of them than I expected.”  Jimin pushes his bangs back and then stretches his neck, leaning it from side to side.  “It was… challenging.” 

No one says anything more, turning back to their respective activities while you’re left gawping, looking at the rest of them like they’ve gone mad.  Why is everyone so casual about this?!  Jimin looks like he’s been in a massacre!

“Jimin… what did Namjoon ask you to do?” you ask him, unable to stow your curiosity any longer.  Jimin looks at you for the first time since he came in, and when his eyes flick down to the collar still sitting on your neck you see the corner of his mouth twitch into a smile, like the sight of it pleases him.  He’s about to open his mouth to explain when suddenly Jungkook speaks up from your side.

“Should we be telling her?  What if Namjoon-Hyung-“

“She’s going to find out sooner or later, I’d prefer it to come from me,” Jimin replies and Jungkook nods resignedly.  You look around at all of the guys, starting to feel nervous for what’s about to come.  What kind of secret could they have that they’re more bothered about telling you than the fact that they’re creatures of the night?  “We work as hired assassins,” Jimin tells you bluntly, leaning forward in his seat with his hands clasped together, looking closely at your response. 

Your lips part in surprise, blinking once, twice, three times without speaking.  Ok, so that’s two different ways in which they kill people.  How… reassuring. 

“That’s how we live like we do,” he continues to explain, obviously meaning their opulent surroundings and seemingly endless cash supply, “This kind of work… it suits what we are-“

“Jimin’s the best,” Jungkook interrupts with a smile which you nervously return.

“We get to feed, satisfy our violent natures.”  Jimin waits for a reply, pursing his lips, but honestly you’re not sure what to say.  “Are you ok?” 

“Yeah,” you say, shaking your head to say the opposite, “Who… um… who do you have to kill?” 

“Namjoon takes the contracts and directs us; we never know all the details,” Jimin admits with a shrug.

“It’s never anyone that’d be missed,” Hoseok pipes up.  Honestly, it doesn’t make you feel any better.  Is that what Leanne was?  Just someone who wouldn’t be missed? 

“It’s usually one gang hiring us to take out a rival gang member.  Drug dealers.  Criminals that have escaped justice and families that want revenge… that kind of thing,” Jimin adds, and ok, that does help a little bit.  At least they sound like bad people rather than those who are innocent.

“I guess it’s better than feeding on randoms,” you admit, and Hoseok has the good graces to glance at the floor, shifting uncomfortably.  Jimin tilts his head to the side and you notice him clench his hands together.

“I understand if this is hard to swallow.  You can still leave… Say the word and Jin can drive you home.  We won’t bother you again.”

“No!” you answer quickly, loudly, and you swear you see Yoongi smirk out of the corner of your eye.  That’s the last thing you want.  It’s not like this really changes anything;  you’ve known from the start that Jimin’s a killer.  Now you just know he has other motivations save food alone.  He straightens up in the armchair, running his hand through his hair as he goes, face cracking into a sweet, genuine smile that has your heart fluttering in your chest.  He seems happy that you don’t want to leave, and that makes you happy in turn. 

“Good.”  You stare back at each other with little smiles, and when Jimin looks at you this way it makes it hard to remember anyone else is in the room; a fact that the others quickly pick up on.  All but Taehyung, of course.  He calls your name, offering a controller back to you.

“Want to play?” 

“I’m good Taehyung, thanks,” you reply, your grin widening as Jimin’s does, still not taking your eyes off one another. 

“Ok, I think I’m gonna go…” Yoongi says, standing from the sofa, mp3 player in hand, and leaving without another word.  Jimin gets up too. 

“The sun’s almost up… and I could do with some rest.  Are you coming?” he asks, and without even having to think about it you get up to follow.  Jimin places his hand around the back of your neck above the collar, squeezing gently as if to reassure himself it’s actually there, and then lets go again. 

“Goodnight, guys,” you say to the others and you get a chorus of goodnights in reply, laughing when Jin blows you a kiss from across the room. 

As you fall into step with Jimin you’re smiling like a goon, happier than you’ve been in years. 

Chapter Text

Jimin shrugs out of his jacket almost as soon as you both get back to the room, throwing it into a hamper. 

“I’m gonna go take a quick shower.”  Without a hint of hesitation Jimin grabs the back of his t-shirt and pulls it up, over his head and off, adding it to the laundry pile too, and suddenly your heart rate seems to rocket through the ceiling.  You don’t know where to look, blushing and trying to avert your eyes but failing miserably, unable to stop yourself from staring at the creamy white expanse of newly exposed skin. 

You’re more convinced than ever that Jimin is, in fact, absolute physical perfection.  His arms are strong and well defined, all long, sinewy muscle, and his stomach… well… you didn’t think real people ever actually had abs like that, but here they are. 

“Like what you see?”  Jimin asks playfully, distracting you enough that you’re finally able to drag your eyes away from his body and up to his face, only to end up swooning when you see him smiling cheekily back at you.  It’s been a little while since Jimin left you speechless, but here you are again, a molten mess, unable to string two words together.  He just grins all the more, winks at you, and then leaves for the bathroom without another word.

You’re so flustered that you have to sit down on the end of the bed to try and catch your breath once he’s gone.  This has to get easier, right?  You can’t carry on being this… naïve.  You’re not a child, after all.  You want to make Jimin as breathless as he makes you, but you wouldn’t even know how to start.  Maybe there’s something that he bought for you that he might like to see you wear?

You head over to the drawers that you’d neatly stored your things in and open up the third one down.  In here are the few pieces of nightwear that Jimin had bought, which of course are nothing like you’d wear at home.  You search through and pick the sexiest thing you can find; a white silk nightie with a lace panel at the front that ends at the top of your thighs.   It really doesn’t leave much to the imagination, and the longer you look at yourself in the mirror the more you’re reconsidering your choice.  You’re about to take it off and swap it for a cute pair of shorts and top when Jimin re-enters the room, effectively taking the choice away from you.  If Jimin looked good before, it was nothing compared to how he looks now.  He’s left his hair wet, the strands of his fringe flopping down to his eyes, and his chest has a fine sheen from the water still clinging to it.  He’s changed into grey sweatpants that hang extra low, drawing your eyes to the delicious ‘v’ of his hipbones.  It takes you a second to realise that you’re biting on your lip and staring shamelessly again. 

Thankfully Jimin seems to be having almost the same problem as you.  He’s come to a standstill, looking you up and down with narrowed eyes, and when you see him lick and bite his bottom lip you feel all the muscles of your core clenching excitedly. 

“Like what you see?” you ask, mimicking his earlier words and trying not to let your voice waver with nerves. 

“Very, very much,” Jimin replies, his voice coming out so low it’s practically a growl.  He stalks toward you slowly, your heart racing in your chest, and stops just short of touching you.  You swallow hard, looking down at the floor because it’s easier than looking up at Jimin’s eyes, which are so intense that they leave you feeling like you’re already naked.  “You know… I can hear your heart beating,” he tells you, reaching out and running his fingertip over the skin that sits above your heart, then downward to skim along your nightdress, across your breasts and the space in between, “I can hear when you’re afraid… when you’re excited.”  Jimin leans in so that his mouth rests next to your ear.  “You’re excited now, aren’t you, kitten?”

God, you are.  You’re struggling not to pant, biting your lip in an effort not to, painfully aware of the fact that you’re getting wet between your legs without Jimin even having touched you yet. 

“Yes,” you answer breathily, closing your eyes and trying to ignore the way you’re throbbing all over. 

Jimin leans back with a smirk on his face, then sits on the edge of his bed and beckons with his finger. 

“Come here.”  You walk over on wobbly legs and as soon as you’re within reach Jimin places his hands on your hips and pulls you down to sit astride his thigh, your legs on either side of his.  The gasp that you would’ve made at the feel of his leg connecting with your core is swallowed by Jimin’s mouth as he wastes no time in kissing you, one hand still on your hip, keeping you steady, the other finding its way into your hair. 

His kiss is just as good as you remember, just as hot, his tongue slipping into your mouth the moment you part your lips.  You sling your arms around the back of his neck, happily letting him use the leverage he has on your hair to keep your mouth pressed to his.  You feel Jimin’s fingers tighten their grip on your hip, and before you know what’s happening you start to move under his instruction, grinding yourself against his muscular thigh.  The friction feels so good that you immediately groan into Jimin’s kiss. 

“You like that?  Huh?”  he asks huskily, and you can feel him smiling against your mouth. 

“Yes,” you answer again, monosyllabic, moaning again as Jimin pulls you down harder, flexing his thigh.  He pulls back on your hair, tilting your head back so that he can access your throat, kissing every inch of skin there. 

“Do you have any idea how badly I want to sink my teeth into you?”  he groans against your neck.  Somehow the idea of it doesn’t frighten you at all, it only makes you hotter, threading your fingers into his hair as you rock your hips.  He grazes his teeth against you, fangs dimpling your skin, and your whole body feels like it’s on fire, prickling with sensation. 

Jimin takes hold of one of your legs and hooks it over his other thigh so you can no longer grind against him, spreading both his and your legs wide apart.  Your panties, wet and shining with arousal, are within Jimin’s full view, your night dress hooked up around your hips.  You’re embarrassed but can’t find the will to care, not when he’s slipping your straps down your shoulders to expose your breasts too. 

“Jimin,” you gasp as he squeezes one of them firmly, coming back to your mouth to kiss you again.  You can feel the split in his bottom lip.  You run your tongue along it, loving the way Jimin groans when you do. 

“What do you need, kitten?” he asks, squeezing your breast again and then rubbing his thumb against your nipple.  It hardens quickly under his touch. 

“Touch me, please.”  You beg shamelessly, clinging onto his back as your hips move against thin air, desperately seeking that friction again.  Jimin reaches down between your bodies and between your legs, his fingertips coming into contact with your panties. 

“God, you’re soaking.”  He starts to touch you through your underwear as you kiss, finding your clit and rubbing it with a firm, circular motion that has you circling your hips against him.  It feels so good but your pussy is aching so badly, desperate to be filled.  You can tell Jimin is just as aroused as you are, one glance downward shows you the very obvious outline of his dick straining against his sweatpants. 

Jimin’s fingers slip inside your underwear and he starts to slide them through your folds, almost dipping a finger inside and then abandoning it for your clit, then back again.  It’s maddening, and it has you mewling against him, pressing your face against his shoulder and biting your lip.  Finally he pushes a finger inside, groaning himself as your walls clench against the unfamiliar intrusion, slowly working you open until he can slide a second finger in too.  The sound of his fingers working in and out of you is obscene, your moaning and panting doing nothing to cover it. 

You feel Jimin shift and when you open your eyes you see that he’s managed to yank down his sweats low enough that his cock is now free, standing tall against his stomach and already leaking pre-cum from the tip.  He takes hold of one of your hands from around his neck and guides it downward, wrapping it around himself and working it up and down as he works your pussy too.   He groans, his hips flexing upward into your grip as he releases your hand and lets you take over.  You hope your inexperience doesn’t show; you can barely concentrate past Jimin making internal ‘come hither’ movements with his fingers against your g-spot.

“Harder, go faster,” Jimin instructs with a growl, mouth pressed to the top of your hair, his free arm now wrapped tight around your waist.  “Like I’m fucking this tight little pussy.” Jimin’s dirty talk is driving you wild, edging you closer to the orgasm that you can feel building in your stomach, that heat growing more and more intense as you ride his fingers.  You do as he asks, going faster and squeezing the head of his cock on each upstroke, his pre-cum smearing on your fingers and along his shaft.  He presses his thumb to your clit as he fucks you with his fingers and you’re getting close, you’re getting so close, your legs shaking. 

“Ah!  J-Jimin-“ you gasp, your hips loosing rhythm as you desperately chase your high.

“You gonna cum for me?”  Jimin starts going even faster, attacking your g-spot in a relentless onslaught.   “Cum for me.” 

The fire that was growing in your belly explodes, your orgasm flooding through you and making your body spasm against Jimin’s, pussy clenching around his fingers as you cry out for him.  A split second later you feel Jimin cum too, moaning, his dick pulsing in your hand, cum spilling out over his stomach, pushed over the edge by the sight and sound of you. 

You expect it to be over, then, for him to slow down, to withdraw his fingers, but he doesn’t.  Instead Jimin lifts your face from his shoulder and watches with hooded eyes as you bite your lip to keep from crying out.  He continues to rub your clit, the pleasure almost painful it’s so much, pushing you to the edge once more. 

“Again,” he commands and you feel as though you might start sobbing if he makes you cum again.  Surely you’ll break in two, shatter into a thousand pieces?  Your body can’t help but respond though, pleasure building and building until you’re once again dragged under by the wave of your orgasm, even stronger than the last.  Your back bows in his arms, fingernails digging into his back as cum squirts from you, all over his fingers and into his lap.  You’re practically whimpering in the aftermath, body shaking as you cling onto him.  You’ve never felt anything like that before, had never thought it could be so intense…

“You did so well, kitten,” Jimin coos to you as you’re coming down, ragged breathing starting to settle, pressing kisses to your cheeks and putting your panties and shoulder straps back in place.  It takes a lot of effort for you to sit up, to look back at Jimin with a shy smile.  You’re initially confused when he lifts his fingers to your lips, only understanding once he tells you to open wide.  You open your mouth, letting him slide his fingers inside for you to lick and suck clean.  You blush at the taste of yourself, blushing even more when Jimin feeds you the pearls of his cum off of his stomach too, but it’s worth any embarrassment for the satisfied look on Jimin’s face when you do, the hot look in his eyes.  “Good girl.”

Now that it’s over, the high of your orgasms well and truly passed, you feel exhausted.  You could happily fall asleep here in Jimin’s lap, safe and content, but when you lean your head on his shoulder with a yawn you hear him softly chuckle and tut.  He effortlessly picks you up with one arm and then carries you over to the chaise longue, gently laying you down and covering you with his quilt.  You half-heartedly wonder why he’s brought you over here and why you don’t get to stay tucked up in bed with him, but you’re too well fucked to really care.

“Jimin,” you murmur, eyes fighting to stay open, “That was so-“

“I know,” he replies softly, knowing exactly what you’re trying to say, “I enjoyed it too.” You smile contentedly and Jimin presses a kiss to your forehead as your eyes close to the image of his face.  “Sleep well.” 

Chapter Text

Jimin isn’t in bed when you wake up, but then he never usually is.  It’s not taken long for you to realise that what sleep Jimin does have is infrequent and little, but it seems to be enough.  You’ve managed to switch to a nocturnal schedule with relative ease, going to bed not long after sunrise and waking at dusk, then spending the whole night Jimin and the rest of the guys, talking, playing games, having fun.  It’s a nice little routine you’ve gotten into, and it’s beyond amazing to finally feel like you’re finally starting to belong somewhere – even if it is with a bunch of vampire assassins. 

You get up with an exaggerated stretch and yawn and then make your way into the bathroom to brush your hair and your teeth, something you consider essential even if you can’t quite be bothered shower.  Looking back at yourself in the mirror you’re pleased to see that most of the bruising on your neck has started to turn a greenish colour, and even the colour in your face is starting to come back a little.  You feel well enough now that you’re sure you’d be able to feed Jimin safely, and you’re eager to do so, keen to given him what he so obviously wants. 

Things haven’t gotten physical between the two of you again since the first time two days ago.  Jimin doesn’t really appear to be the affectionate sort; hugs are none-existent and even kisses are few and far-between.  It seems to be only at the end of the night, when all his long, intense looks have had chance to build up to the point where he can no longer stop himself that Jiimin finally pulls you in a passionate embrace that always leaves you breathless and wanting more.  You’re not sure if it’s just how he is, or if he’s holding himself back, but you’re really starting to wonder where this ‘soft’ person Yoongi talked about could be hiding. 

Nonetheless, you love spending time with him.  Jimin is actually very sweet towards his friends, who are more like brothers than anything else.  He smiles often, laughing so hard that his head tips back and tears fall from his eyes.  It’s lovely to watch, even if sometimes all the relentless teasing ends in physical confrontation that looks a lot more savage than it truly is.  Jimin might be the shortest of all of them but he often comes out the victor in those situations, pinning the others down with his powerful legs.  You have to try not to get too distracted by imaging yourself in their position, though it’s hard not to. 

You really can’t be bothered to change out of the strappy top and shorts you slept in – all this dress wearing takes a lot of effort – so once your breath is minty fresh you head straight out, padding down the hallway toward the kitchen where you’re sure you can hear Jin rummaging around already. 

“Morning Jin-Hyung!” you greet enthusiastically as you enter, rounding the corner to see him on his knees, head right in the back of the cupboard, searching for something. 

“Good morning to you too,” he smiles, retreating out backwards to look up at you, “Not that I don’t appreciate your effort, but Hyung isn’t really the right word for you to use.”

“Oh.”  Your smile falters.  You were sure that that was right, everyone seems to add ‘Hyung’ to Jin’s name, so why can’t you?  

Hyung is what males call their older brothers or friends,” he explains, standing up and brushing off his knees, “What you mean is Oppa.”  Jin turns back to the stove to stir whatever it is he’s cooking today but after a second he pauses, looking back at you with a smile, “But maybe check with Jimin before you go calling any of us that.”

“Why?” you ask curiously, hoisting yourself up to sit on the countertop, legs dangling over the side. 

“It can be seen as being a bit… flirtatious.”  His smile widens as your cheeks go pink.  He takes a spoonful from the saucepan and walks over to you, walking carefully so as not to spill.  “Here, try this.”  You lean forward and slurp the steaming liquid from the spoon, smacking your lips in approval once you’ve swallowed it down.

“Excellent as always.  What’re you making?”

“It’s just a broth for the dinner you’re having later.”  He walks back to the stove to try some himself, frowning a little and then adding a touch more salt. 

“Jin, you don’t have to keep cooking for me you know.  I actually can feed myself… just about.”  You grin at your own little joke, swinging your leg s back and forth.  It’s true, you’ve never eaten so well as the few short days you’ve been living here, but you wouldn’t want Jin to feel obliged to do so.

“I know, but I want to.  I enjoy it,” he assures you with a smile.  You let him return to his cooking, content to just sit and watch for a little while as he works methodically until another thought pops into your head.

“What would I call Jimin?”  Jin looks up, blinking, almost like he’d forgotten that you were there.  “In Korean,” you explain further.

“Oh.”  He stops, looking thoughtful, saucepan in hand.  “I suppose that’d depend on what your relationship is like.  Young couples sometimes call each other Jagiya.  You could try that, if you think it suits.” 

Does it suit?  You’re not even sure.  You certainly wouldn’t say you and Jimin behave in a couple-y manner, despite the fumble the other night and kisses that have followed since, though you know that that’s what you’d like… eventually.  Do vampires even have those kind of relationships?  You try to tell yourself not to fixate on it – a few days is hardly long enough to go putting a label on anything, and besides, you enjoy his company and you’re having fun.  That’s what counts, right? 

“You look like you’re lost in thought,” Jin observes with a fond smile.  You shrug, trying not to dwell on it. 

“Would I call all of you Oppa?  I mean I presume you’re all technically older than me.”  Jin laughs at your question, shaking his head as he goes into the fridge and brings out a tray of chicken. 

“We’ve been this way for longer than any of us were ever human, but we still address each other as if we were the ages we were when we were turned,” he explains.  “I’m the eldest, then Yoongi.  Hoseok was twenty-three, Namjoon twenty-two.  Both Jimin and Taehyung were twenty-one.  You might have guessed Jungkook was the youngest; he was only nineteen.” 

“That’s so young,” you say emphatically, frowning at the thought.  “Did you all choose to be this way?”  Jin smiles sadly, taking a pause from chopping and slicing.

“It wasn’t much of a choice… but it was better than any others we had.”  He sighs and then continues chopping with a shrug of his shoulders.  “It’s a long story, one that’s better for you to hear from Jimin.”  A heavy silence falls between the two of you, and now it’s Jin, rather than you, who appears lost in thought, only the sound of his knife hitting the chopping board to break the quiet. 

“Speaking of Jimin,” you say after a moment, clearing your throat, “Do you know where he might be?  He was already out of bed when I woke up.”

“Have you tried the gym?  That’s usually where he is at this time.”  You didn’t even realise they had one, and when you tell Jin that he just smiles and gives you directions on how to find your way there.   You thank him and make your exit, leaving him alone with his thoughts.  You feel guilty for spoiling the good mood he was in before, but then knowing Jin he’ll probably be back to his normal, chipper self in no time. 

It doesn’t take you long to find the gym – it’s just past Yoongi's room – but when you get there Jimin is nowhere to be seen.  Just as you’re about to leave, though, you hear music coming from nearby, and when you look more closely you notice that there’s another set of doors at the back of the gym leading to another room.  It’s more piano music, although this time it’s definitely coming from a music player rather than Yoongi, and when you push open the door and see what’s inside you barely manage to keep a surprised gasp from escaping.

There’s a small dance studio attached to the back of the room, and inside is Jimin.  He’s lost to the world, his body twisting this way and that to the music with his eyes closed, letting it carry him into spins and lift him into leaps.  The way he extends his body, his arms and even his fingers reaching for something unknown, is nothing short of beautiful, and you find yourself being moved just watching him.  There’s grace and undeniable strength in the way he moves and he conveys so much emotion through motion alone, more than you’d ever thought he’d be capable of when he can seem so… closed off at times.

When the song comes to an end you have to resist the urge to give him a round of applause.  He keeps his eyes closed for a second, face turned down the floor, chest heaving with effort, but when he eventually looks up you’re the first thing he sees.  His eyes widen in surprise. 

“You were watching?” Jimin asks breathlessly, his hair clinging to his gleaming forehead.  You really must stop doing this, watching people when they’re unawares.  They might start to get the wrong idea. 

“Only for a minute or two.”  You leave the doorway, walking toward him with your arms folded across your chest.  “You looked so peaceful, I didn’t want to disturb you.”  He watches you approach with a strangely wary expression, leaning down to pick up a towel from the floor which he uses to wipe his brow.  When he pushes back his hair it sticks there, giving you a glimpse of his rarely seen forehead.  “You’re an amazing dancer, Jimin,” you compliment, placing your hand on his forearm and standing on tiptoes to plant a kiss on his cheek.  When you pull away with a smile you expect to see him smiling too, but the expression on his face is more akin to a frown. 

“Thank you,” he replies, tone clipped, not really sounding thankful at all.  Your smile crumples, feeling foolish now for greeting him so warmly.  He wipes his face again, eyes looking you up and down.  “How did you know I was here?”

“Jin told me you’d probably be in the gym.”

“Jin saw you dressed like that?”  His eyes narrow, eyebrows pulling downward into an even deeper frown and you nervously glance downward at your top and shorts, instinctively pulling them further down your thighs.  Jimin doesn’t wait for a reply; the blush on your cheeks tells him the answer to his question.  “I didn’t buy you clothes for you not to wear them.  I don’t like it.” He begins to walk away, apparently ending the discussion, but indignation grows inside of you, infuriated by him speaking to you that way.   

“The skirt I wore yesterday was shorter than these,” you point out, walking after him.  “The skirt you bought me.”  Jimin turns abruptly, chest puffing up as his famous temper flares.

“Yes, it was, and Taehyung could barely keep his eyes off of you,” he snarls.  Your lips part in surprise.  If that were true you can’t say you noticed.  I mean, yes, you caught him looking at you a couple of times but Taehyung was just funny like that – you’d figured he was just daydreaming or staring into space the majority of the time.  Apparently not.  “Or maybe that’s what you want?”  So that’s what it this is, jealousy?  How could Jimin possibly feel jealous or insecure… can’t he see how absolutely besotted you are with him? 

“Jimin…” You keep your voice soft, not letting any of the irritation you feel colour your tone, knowing that both of you getting irate won’t help anything.  It’s not easy, by any means.  “I wear those things for you, because you like them.”  You watch, hoping that your words are slowly starting to sink in, giving time for Jimin’s anger to begin ebbing away in the silence that follows.  He exhales heavily, running his hand through his hair and glancing all around the room before finally looking back to you, his shoulders sagging.

“I’m sorry,” Jimin sighs after a moment.  He looks so tired, almost drawn, and you start to wonder if he’s been overexerting himself, or if he-

“Are you hungry?” you ask suddenly, taking a step towards him, realising where the root of this problem actually lies, and why Jimin’s been getting increasingly testy these past couple of days.  With a pained look Jimin opens his arms for you to deliver yourself into them and instantly you do, leaning your head on his shoulder and wrapping your arms around his waist.  The back of the vest he’s wearing is damp with sweat but you’re undeterred by it, snuggling as close as you possibly can, loving the way his strong arms tighten around you too. 

“So, so hungry,” Jimin admits with a whisper, pressing his face into your hair.  There’s not a flicker of fear that shows on your face as you pull your hair back from your neck, or as you unfasten and remove your collar, offering yourself to him.  He eyes your skin as you tilt your head to the side, licking his lips hungrily, holding you so closely to him that it’s almost hard to breathe.  You watch his Adam’s apple bob in his throat as his eyes meet yours, checking, at the last moment, that you’re sure that this is what you want.  You give the tiniest nod of your head, and that’s all it takes for Jimin to succumb. 

He delves in, mouth meeting your neck, and what starts as a kiss quickly turns into the feel of sharp fangs pressed to your skin.  You try to not give in to the fear that threatens to paralyse you, holding your breath, anticipating the same agony as the last time he fed, but it never comes.  There’s a definite stab of pain as Jimin’s teeth pierce you, one that makes you gasp, but then it’s gone and all that’s left is the feel of his lips and tongue caressing your skin as he rhythmically sucks and swallows.  Jimin squeezes your waist as he feeds, and in less than a minute you start to feel that indescribable high you remember from last time, endorphins leaving you blissfully limp in his arms. 

“Jimin,” you moan, running a hand through his hair, your vision starting to get blurry round the edges.  The sound of your voice seems to remind him not to get carried away, and with what must be a great feat of self-control Jimin manages pulls himself from you, breathing hard and fast.  Your blood is shining on his lips, crimson red, but with just one lick it’s gone, and no one would be any the wiser.   

“You feel better?”  you ask, vaguely aware that your words are coming out a little slurred.  He certainly looks better.  Any remaining bruising from his fight with Namjoon has now magically disappeared, his face fuller again, eyes brighter, and his smile is kind as he looks down at you, caressing your cheek. 

“Much.  Are you ok?”  he checks, and you smile a silly smile back up at him before nuzzling your head against him.

“’mgood.”  You place kisses against his chest, eyes closed, wishing he were topless.  “Smell good… you always smell so good.”  Jimin laughs affectionately at your endorphin-drunk behaviour and abruptly scoops you up in his arms to carry you bridal style from the room, making you shriek and cling onto him tightly. He kisses you as he carries you through the door, the taste of your blood still lingering on his lips, and you kiss back eagerly, nipping at his bottom lip with a giggle. 

“Let’s go get you sobered up.” 

Chapter Text

“Do you like animals?”  Taehyung flops down onto the living room rug by your side, lying on his stomach like you, pulling your concentration away from the book you’re reading.

“Er… yeah, Tae, I do,” you answer with a crooked smile, caught slightly off guard by the randomness of his question.  “Why?”

“Watch this,” he says, shuffling closer so his side is pressed to yours, chin resting on your shoulder as he holds his phone in front of you both to watch a cute little video of cats and dogs getting into all sorts of adorable and hilarious situations.  And yes, it is very sweet, and yes, you do giggle when a pug trips and flips, landing flat on his face, but you’re also very aware of Taehyung’s close proximity, Jimin’s words ringing in your ears. 

You risk a glance upward as Taehyung scrolls down to find another video, half expecting to see a jealous Jimin glaring your way.  Instead all you see is Hoseok leaning over his dozing form with a mischievous grin on his face, pinching and prodding the others cheeks and chin and giggling to himself, through all which Jimin, somehow,  remains asleep. 

“Hoseok,” you call quietly, hoping to distract his attention from the object of your affections.  Hoseok looks over, momentarily halting his abuse.  “Why don’t you go get Yoongi?”  You cock your head in his direction, knowing full well that Yoongi is also sleeping on the sofa that you’re lying underneath.  Smiling slyly you watch as Hoseok considers it but then very quickly chickens out; it’s not taken you long to figure out that almost all of them seem scared of the sharp-tongued vampire. 

“You’re just trying to get me in trouble,” Hoseok accuses with a whisper, and your smile gets wider, eyes narrowing.

“Maybe I am.”  Taehyung snickers beside you, pressing his mouth to his arm to keep the sound in.  Rather than heading towards Yoongi, Hoseok turns his attention to Jungkook instead who’s sleeping star-fished out on the one remaining sofa, his head on Jin’s lap.  Everyone seems to have flaked out early this morning, not even waiting for the sun to rise before starting to snore – in Kookie’s case, at least.

“I wish we could have a dog,” Taehyung sighs, drifting back to your previous topic.  You roll onto your side so you can continue to watch Hoseok tip-toing over, hands outstretched and ready for mischief. 

“You’d have to ask Namjoon about that,” Jin says, not looking up from his book.  You snort a laugh, rolling your eyes. 

“You sound just like my mum.”

“You had to ask Namjoon for things too?” Taehyung asks, adorably sincere, but when you look at him his face splits into a cheeky grin, his eyes screwed up tight. 

“I’d rather have a cat anyway.”

“Or both!  Both would be better!”  He’s so childlike in his enthusiasm that you just can’t help but smile, fighting the overwhelming urge to ruffle his hair. Suddenly, there’s a shriek from across the room.

Hyung!”  A rudely awakened Jungkook thrashes around the sofa, desperately trying to escape Hoseok’s tickling fingers, arms and legs flailing helplessly.  “Stop!”  he pleads through laughter, trying to push Hoseok’s hands away with very little success.  It’s quite the sight to behold, especially when Kookie manages to knock Jin’s book out of his hands and send it flying across the room.  Both you and Taehyung burst into fits of giggles, your laughter only intensifying when Jin lets out a world-weary sigh and then unexpectedly joins in, turning in his seat with an impish smile, grabbing Jungkook’s wrists and pining them above his head so that he’s well and truly at Hoseok’s mercy.  

“Oh c’mon guys,” you giggle, your sides beginning to ache, “Two against one is hardly fair.”  You’re actually feeling a little sorry for Kookie now.  He has tears of laughter streaming from his pretty eyes, twisting uselessly in the grasp of his elders, still pleading with them to stop.  Can vampires pee themselves?   You’re starting to feel afraid that he might. 

“Sounds like someone else might be ticklish too,” Taehyung observes, eyeing you shrewdly.  You feel your own eyes widen in panic, sensing what’s about to happen the split second before it does. 

Taehyung flips you from your side and onto your back, grabbing the hands that you’d stuck out to protect yourself and pinning them above you so that he can begin tickling you ruthlessly with his long, dexterous fingers.  Your collarbones, your sides, under your arms; nowhere is safe.  He exploits every weak spot, leant over you with a wicked smile, till you’re thrashing and laughing just as hard as Jungkook. 

“Tae, Tae, stop,” you laugh, twisting your hips, trying to buck him off of you but to no avail.  In fact, it only makes things worse, because in the next moment Taehyung has sat himself on top of you, using his weight as an advantage so he can use both hands to torture you all the more.  You have to do something, because in a minute it’ll be you peeing yourself, not Jungkook, and you can bet these guys would never let you live it down.  “Oppa, please!” 

Your use of the honorific seems to shock Taehyung so much that he comes to an abrupt and complete stop.  You’ve never seen him look serious or intense before, but suddenly he does, staring down at you from where he’s sat on your stomach, his chest heaving with exertion.  Suddenly you understand what Jimin was saying about Taehyung; he’s got that same look in his eyes that you’ve seen Jimin wearing before, and as soon as you recognise it you start to blush, feeling hot all over. 

“Taehyung,” you say, but it comes out so soft that he doesn’t hear you.  He’s too busy looking down at your lips and biting down his own.  Gone is the childlike innocence he usually exudes, replaced with something that feels far more... magnetic.  This Taehyung, with his long, thick eyelashes and blonde hair flopping into his eyes, is a completely different sort of animal. 

God, you need to stop this right now.  This is bad, bad, bad. 

“Tae, you’re crushing me!”  You give him a shove, trying to break him out of it, forcing out a fake laugh to break the heavy atmosphere.  It seems to do the job, his eyes suddenly de-fogging, no longer serious but smiling instead.

“Oh! Sorry!” he laughs, as if he didn’t realise, climbing off you and sitting right at the other end of the rug, as if purposefully trying to put distance between the two of you. 

You straighten out your dress, praying to yourself that that none of the others noticed that strange little moment.  Jungkook looks like he’s only just pulling himself together, sulking as he wipes his eyes whilst Jin and Hoseok exchange high-fives. Yoongi’s turned himself to face the back of the couch, so who knows if he’s asleep or awake, and Jimin… well… Jimin looks exactly the same now as he did before, so maybe nobody saw.  It only lasted for a split second anyway; probably nothing to get worked up or worried about. 

“I’m gonna go grab a new book,” you announce, rising from the floor with your previous one in hand.  You weren’t really enjoying this one anyway, and exchanging it provides a perfectly valid excuse for you to leave and grab some air. 

“’Kay!” Hoseok acknowledges, just as you’re on your way out of the door.

You know it’s only been a week, but you’re really starting to feel like this house is becoming your home.  Admittedly, you remember finding the place a little creepy at first; the wide, endless corridors, the staircases that creak, the total lack of any natural light.  And sure, it sometimes gets a little cold and drafty in the dead of night, but with the welcome and care you’ve received from Jimin and Yoongi and Jin and all the rest… most of the time you feel pretty warm.  You still can’t quite believe how quickly they’ve accepted you, how they’ve taken you in as one of their own on only Jimin’s say so.  Hell, even he had no real reason to bring you here, but you’re infinitely glad he did.  Honestly, right now there’s nowhere else you’d rather be. 

You pull open the door to their study with a happy sigh, automatically reaching for the light-switch on the wall but stopping when you realise the room is already perfectly illuminated, which is odd, because you could have sworn you turned that off when you left earlier. 

Heading towards the bookshelves built into the walls you don’t even think to pay proper attention to your surroundings.  After all, you know exactly which shelf you’re heading for; there’s an amazing collection of literary classics you spied earlier, all leather-bound and probably older than you are, and you can’t wait to work your way through them.  You’re just pulling one from the shelf by its fragile spine when a voice speaks from behind you, making you jump so hard that you bang your head on the shelf above. 

“Jimin let you out to play again, did he?”  It feels like ice cold water has been poured down your spine when you slowly turn and see Namjoon, all the hairs on your arms standing up to attention in his presence.  He’s slouched in a wooden armchair, his bare feet propped up on the table that occupies the centre of the room, dressed in a decorative smoking jacket and blue pants.  You can’t believe you didn’t notice him straight away, eye-catching as he is. 

“I’m sorry,” you apologise quickly, lowering your eyes to the floor and starting to make for the door, book long forgotten. 

“Don’t leave on my account,” he says, voice soft and smooth like honey, “Come and sit, have a drink with me.”  You pause, your heart still beating too-fast in your chest from the fear he inspires in you after your one and only encounter.  Still, you can’t help but want to think the best of people.  What if this is Namjoon offering you an olive branch?  A chance to make amends?  It’d be foolish to turn it down…

You look back at him warily, only now noticing the glass in his hand and the bottle sat on the table.  Both are filled with a dark red liquid. 

“Relax,” Namjoon smirks, swilling it around the glass, “It’s a Chianti, not O-neg.”  You end up smiling despite your anxiety, watching him a moment longer before finally deciding to give him a chance.  After all, you actively sought out Jimin for a second time, and Namjoon certainly doesn’t look as predatory now as the last time you met.  Slowly, and with a good dose of caution, you take a seat across the table from him, reassured that at least you have that barrier between the two of you. 

Namjoon takes his feet off the table and straightens in his seat, placing his drink on the table and starting to pour out more wine into a glass intended for you.

“I thought you guys couldn’t really tolerate anything other than blood,” you say without thinking.  As soon as the words leave your mouth you wish that you could take them back; it’s probably not the wisest thing to remind him about whilst you’re alone. 

“I’ve had a lot of practice,” he admits, sliding the glass across the table to you.  Honestly, the look of it doesn’t really appeal to you, but it’d feel impolite to turn it down so you take it anyway, taking a cursory sip.  It burns all the way down, something you try not to let show on your face. 

A pregnant pause stretches out between the two of you, during which you find yourself looking anywhere other than directly at Namjoon, very aware that he’s doing completely the opposite. Desperate for something to fill the ever expanding silence, you latch onto the book you spy resting on the table next to his wine, faced down and open. 

“American psycho,” you read aloud, tilting your head to the side to read the spine.  “Nice choice.  Have you read it before?”  Namjoon laughs derisively, taking a sip from his glass.

“Many times.  I’m surprised you have, though.”  You raise an eyebrow, wondering why.  Sure, it’s not exactly a favourite of yours – the thought that someone that disturbed could be lurking behind closed doors in just about anyone tends to keeps you awake at night if you think about it too much – but nonetheless.  “I’d pictured you with Little Women, Pride and Prejudice… something like that.”  Both of the books he mentioned are perfectly good in their own right, books that you’ve read and enjoyed, but everything about what Namjoon just said, from the tone of his voice to the smile while he said it, feels as though he’s trying to mock you.   Rather than get annoyed, which you know is what he wants, you choose to play him at his own game instead.

“And I expected you to be reading Dracula by candlelight, Namjoon, so I guess we’re both surprised.”  There’s a split second after you’ve said that, when Namjoon blinks in surprise, his mouth popping open, where you wonder if you’ve made a terrible mistake.  Thankfully, rather than flying into a rage, he starts to laugh.  A genuine, joyful laugh that leaves you smiling too, pleased that you’ve finally gotten a tiny glimpse at another side of him, even if it was just for a second.  “I’ll read almost anything, but I really like fantasy novels… dystopian societies… that kind of thing,” you explain, absentmindedly taking another sip of wine.   

Now he’s done laughing the usually intimidating vampire actually looks like he’s ready to listen, his elbow resting on the arm of the chair, chin planted on the open palm of his hand.  Talking like this for a little while and being able stand looking at him for longer than a second at a time gives you chance to really appreciate just how handsome Namjoon is.  He has the softest looking lips, out of which flows intelligent conversation and a vocabulary that’s pretty impressive for someone whose first language isn’t English.  It’s funny, but even though you now know Namjoon was not by any means the oldest of the group when he was turned, he has an air about him that makes him seem that way.  There must be a lot of responsibility involved with keeping a group of vampires safely hidden and organised, you suppose, so perhaps it’s the weight of that which makes him seem more world-weary and grown-up than the rest. 

“Why don’t you come downstairs and join the others?” you suggest during the next lull in the conversation, but Namjoon just smiles wryly, looking down into his wine glass. 

“There was a time where we all used to spends our nights together,” he replies, a little wistfully, if you aren’t mistaken, “But that was a long time ago.” 

“I’m sure it’s not too late to do it again.”  He shakes his head, clearly dismissing the idea, and when he next speaks his tone has become more hostile again, less conversational. 

“They have a new toy to play with right now.  I’m neither needed nor missed.”  He sounds so bitter, so much anger and hurt contained in his words, that you can’t help but feel a little sorry for him. 

You’re about to speak again, to try and convince him, when all of a sudden Jimin’s voice comes echoing from downstairs, calling your name. 

“Where are you, kitten?”  Your heart thuds in your chest as soon as he calls for you, glancing back at the door and then back to Namjoon apologetically. 

“I’d better go,” you say quickly, “Thank you for the wine.”  You place the half-empty glass on the table and start to rise from your seat, only to come to an abrupt stop when Namjoon also says your name as well. 

“Never forget your place here,” he tells you firmly, leaning forward in his seat.  What does he mean, ‘your place’?  You tilt your head, confused.  “No matter how enamoured with you they all might seem; we’re all the same.  We’re vampires, made to trick and seduce and lie, and you are nothing more to us than a walking, talking buffet.  A pet, at best.”  Namjoon’s words hit you like a punch to the gut, your expression crumpling into a wounded frown, and the worst part about it is that it doesn’t even seem like he’s trying to be cruel.  He’s not sneering or smirking like before, and you don’t think he’s just saying things to get a rise out of you this time, either.  No, it just sounds like he’s stating hard, cold fact, and that makes it hurt even more.  “To hope for anything more would just make you a fool.”    

Jimin’s voice beckons you again.  You let go of your collar, unaware until now that you’d even been fingering it, and look back to the door. 

“Go,” Namjoon tells you flatly, dismissing you with a wave of his hand.  “Master’s calling.” 

You leave the study to obediently answer Jimin’s call, completely shaken and unsure.  You’d walked into that room feeling like… like a member of the family, like you belonged here, but now…?  Now you don’t know what to think.  Could what Namjoon said be true?  Is it all some big, made up lie to keep you here, to keep you placid, so that they can all eventually use you as some… personal snack machine? 

“There you are.”  Jimin greets you with a warm smile as soon as he notices you descending the staircase, one that you try your best to return despite your inner turmoil.  “Where did you go?” 

“I just got caught up trying to find a new book to read,” you lie, unsure as to why you’re doing so, but lie you do.  As soon as you’re within reach Jimin reaches out and places his hand on the back of your neck, his fingers resting atop your collar to give a very gentle squeeze as he pulls you toward him.  Usually you’d be gazing up at him by now, getting all caught up in his pretty eyes, but right now you just can’t seem to tear yourself away from looking at the floor. 

“Are you alright?”  Jimin asks softly, placing his curled index finger under your chin and using it to tilt your face upward.  The moment you look and see the concern written across his face you know you’re done for; you couldn’t keep away even if you tried, whether Namjoon’s words are true or not. 

“I’m just tired.”  Another lie, but one that Jimin seems to believe easily enough.  “Can we go back to your room?” 

“Of course,” he replies, briefly running his fingers through the ends of your hair with a smile before walking away for you to follow.  You pause, just watching him go, taking a moment to note the shallowness of your breath, the quickness of your pulse, the way your whole body aches to be near him. 

How could all of that be a lie? 

Chapter Text

When you awake the next evening, alone on your chaise lounge, the first person that pops into your head is Sam.  Your dreams had been increasingly riddled with her the last couple of days, and it doesn’t take a therapist to figure out that it’s clearly your conscience trying to guilt you for dodging her texts and calls.  Since arriving in the manor you’ve barely been near your phone, only turning it on to see just how many there are and then promptly switching it off again. 

What the hell are you even supposed to tell her?   ‘Hey, Sam, remember that hot guy we met in the club right before I got attacked?   Yeah, I’m living with him now.  Him and his six ‘brothers’.  Oh yeah, they’re totally fine – they kill people for a living – but other than that they’re great!’  Yeah, somehow you don’t think that’d go down that well.  You’ve got to say something though; her last couple of texts were starting to sound like she was worried enough to consider getting police involved.

You get up with a groan and retrieve your phone from your top drawer, casting an obligatory glance at Jimin’s bed.  He’s not in it, of course, but you still can’t help but look.  Plonking back down on your make-shift bed, you turn it on and ready yourself for the barrage of messages to come.  Surprisingly enough, there’s only two. 

 

You’re really starting to freak me out here.  This isn’t like you xx

 

Even if you’re mad at me or something, can you just let me know you’re ok?  Please? Xx

 

You sigh heavily, running a hand through your tangled hair as you try to figure out how to reply.  You really don’t want to lie to her, but you’re not sure what other choice you have.

 

Hi Sam, sorry I haven’t called.  I’m not mad, promise.

 

I’m staying with my aunt and the signal’s really bad.  I needed to get away for a while.  Please don’t be mad.

 

Figuring that’ll do for a while you go to take a shower, leaving your phone lying on the side switched on, just in case she messages back.  You’ve barely even shampooed your hair by the time you hear your message alert over the sound of running water – she always has been quick at replying.  As soon as you’re done washing you go back to your phone again, trying not to drip all over the touch screen. 

 

OMG – call off the search and rescue!   Not mad, just worried! Totally understand you needing to escape, but next time can you give me a heads up?!  Are you ok?  Like really ok?  You know you can talk to me, right?  Do you want me to come visit?  Would your aunt mind? xx

 

You can’t help but smile at your phone.  Sam texts like she talks; all in a rush, spewing out every thought at once, no regard given to whether it makes sense or not.

 

I’m really ok, Sam, there’s no need to come visit. 

 

Please don’t worry about me too hard, they’re taking really good care of me. 

 

It’s my job to worry! xx

 

I need a picture to verify your safety xx

 

You roll your eyes but do as she asks anyway, taking as good a selfie as you can in the steamed up bathroom mirror.  You owe her that much; you’ve been a really crappy friend lately.  

 

Bitch, you need some eyeliner! xx

 

You snort a laugh, glancing at yourself.  She’s not wrong.  Jimin’s got to have a secret stash somewhere, there’s no way his eyes are naturally so defined, and if they are?  Well that’s just not fair.

 

No, but seriously, you look a lot better xx

 

I feel a lot better.  I hope you’re good too.

 

You figure you should quit while you’re ahead, before Sam starts asking too many questions about this imaginary aunt.  You’re already telling far more lies than you’re comfortable with, without embellishing them any further.

 

 I’ve got to go, but I’ll talk to you soon, ok?  Love you xxx

 

You turn off your phone before Sam has a chance to try and engage you in further conversation, feeling like a massive weight has been lifted from your shoulders.  It’d been bothering you for days knowing that she was worrying about you – she is your best friend, after all – and you know if this situation had been the other way around you’d have been going out of your mind too.   In fact, she’s handled it a whole lot better than you ever would’ve done.

It doesn’t take you long to finish getting ready, dressing yourself in a figure hugging maroon pencil skirt and pretty white blouse.  Your bruises have more or less disappeared now, and the last bite that Jimin gave you is neatly covered by the collar that completes your look.  He hadn’t been lying when he’d said that he wouldn’t mark you again; save two small puncture holes you’d barely be able to tell he’d fed at all.

You leave Jimin’s room fully intending to head straight for the gym, but almost as soon as you cross the threshold you come to the realisation that one of the hallway’s large windows isn’t actually a window at all – it’s a door.  Both panes of glass have been left hanging open wide, inviting you out into the night beyond.  Surely it must have been Jimin that left them that way?  You can’t see why anyone else would come all the way down here just to use an exit right outside Jimin’s bedroom.  Cautiously, you decide to see where it leads.  It might be nice to go outside, actually; you haven’t done so since the moment you arrived.

You bare feet meet grass as soon as you step outside, slightly damp and cool to the touch, but the night is warm and the moon is bright enough to light your way so you forge on ahead, looking for any signs that might lead you to Jimin.  It appears you’ve entered a secluded garden at the back of the house, and though it’s now overgrown, its rose bushes bare, weeds encroaching across the patio, you can tell from the remnants of landscaping that it was once well-tended and loved.

The quiet, gentle sound of running water draws your attention.  You follow it, through a lattice archway overgrown with vines and past wild hedges that reach for you with their long and twisted branches.  Eventually the path opens out into a small enclosed courtyard, in the middle of which sits a grand fountain that stands taller than you and twice as wide.  On its side, lying prone with his face turned up to the moon and his eyes closed, lies Jimin. 

Will this man ever stop taking your breath away?  You remember when you’d first met how Jimin had told how good you looked in the moonlight, but compared to him… you must not even come close.   

“Sunbathing?” you ask playfully, announcing your presence as you walk toward the fountain.  Jimin’s eyes immediately spring open, head falling to the side to look at you as a small smile tugs at his lips. 

“Something like that,” he replies.  He pushes himself up to sitting and pats the stone next to him, inviting you to sit too.  “Did you sleep well?” 

“I did.”  You smile, sitting down delicately and holding onto the stone seat either side of you.  “I spoke to Sam.  Well, texted her,” you correct.  Jimin’s interest piques, tilting his head.

“Oh?” 

“Don’t worry,” you assure him quickly, “I told her I was staying with an aunt.  Taking some time away from things.”  

“How did she take it?” 

“Fine.  I think she was just glad to hear from me.”  Jimin ‘hmms’ softly, folding his hands in the space between his legs, looking out into the darkness shrouding the rest of the grounds.  “She asked if she could come visit… but I put her off,” you grin and Jimin chuckles, glancing down at his feet. 

“Probably for the best.” 

A silence falls between you, though it’s a comfortable one.   You sit together enjoying the glow of the moonlight, soothed by the sound of running water, and when the night air starts to develop a little chill you press yourself against Jimin’s side to keep warm; ignoring the fact that his cold skin will probably do the opposite.  He doesn’t seem to mind, though, glancing down at you when you lean your head on his shoulder too. 

“Do you miss home?” he asks after a while.  The question catches you off guard, but it doesn’t take you long to formulate an answer. 

“Not really.  My family and I aren’t close… the café I’d been working in had recently closed down. There’s nothing for me to miss.” Jimin says nothing, presumably satisfied with your answer, so you turn the question back to him.  “What about you?  Do you miss home?”  You take your head off his shoulder so you’re able to properly see his expression, and at the mention of home Jimin smiles sadly, looking off into the distance again. 

“This house has been my home longer than anywhere else,” he replies after a moment, “And Jin, Hoseok, Taehyung… they’re all my brothers.”  It’s a fair enough answer, but you can’t help but feel like he’s skirting around the question until he speaks again, adding more.  “But I would like to see the mountain temples of Busan again… go back to Haeundae beach.” 

You remain quiet as Jimin pauses, pursing his lips together as his eyebrows pull together, deep in thought.  “I often wonder if Jihyun is happy… if he has a family, if I have nieces and nephews…” 

“Your brother?”  Jimin almost startles when you speak, like he’d forgotten you were there, turning to look at you with a smile that looks vaguely embarrassed. 

“My younger brother.  He was the same age as Jungkook when we were turned, but he’d be in his late forties now,” he explains.  You quickly do the mental maths in your head, trying not to gawp when you realise that Jimin must have been a vampire for almost thirty years by that reckoning. 

Again you both fall silent, Jimin lost in introspection, you trying to envisage the beautiful boy beside you as a fifty year old man.  You have a feeling that Jimin would be still be beautiful either way, and instead you find yourself wondering if his brother is so well blessed. 

“Jimin?” you ask quietly, placing your head back on his shoulder, “Will you tell me about how all this started?” 

He doesn’t say anything for a very long time – so long that you start to think he might refuse – but then you hear him take a breath, and shortly after he begins to speak. 

“A particularly rare, nasty blood disorder brought us together.  We were all unlucky enough to have it, save Namjoon.  It was his sister, Geongmin, who had it, but he visited the ward so often that we were just as close to him as we were to her.  The condition is incurable and terminal in almost all cases.  Blood transfusions can help, but they only really delay the inevitable.”   

“That must’ve been awful,” you sympathise.  It’s almost impossible to picture any of them as sickly or weak… Actually, you don’t even want to. 

“It wasn’t so bad, most of the time.  Sharing something like that forced us to get close, to keep each other’s spirits up when things got really tough.  We used to play stupid games, make up songs, dream about being Idols.”  Jimin chuckles softly, remembering with a fond, far off look in his eyes.   

“Idols?” you ask, unable to hide the amusement in your voice, “And what was your role?” 

“Lead dancer and vocalist,” Jimin peeks down at you where you’re still leant against his shoulder, an adorable smile on his face, “Obviously.” 

“Obviously.”  Unfortunately the smile shining on Jimin’s face is far too short-lived.  As soon as he gets back to the story he becomes contemplative and serious again, chewing on the inside of his mouth. 

“Geongmin was the first of us to get really sick.  I mean, we were all sick but until we saw her like…”  He hesitates, frowning at the memory, swallowing hard, “Until then, I don’t think anyone of us really thought we were going to die.”  Jimin lapses into silence, the gentle pitter-patter of the fountain suddenly deafening in the quiet. 

“What happened then?”  you prompt gently.

“Namjoon couldn’t accept it.  He wouldn’t allow himself to even think of a world without his sister in it.  He started researching, reading anything and everything he could find, obsessed with finding her a cure.  He’d come to visit and it was all he’d talk about… instead of spending time with her, instead of…”  He purses his lips together, shaking his head.  “Somewhere along the line, he started looking into the occult.  And when he couldn’t even find a cure for our disease there, he decided to cure her of death entirely.  I don’t know how, but Namjoon managed to track down a vampire online and asked for his help.” 

You can’t even begin to imagine what Namjoon was thinking, or just how desperate he must’ve been to purposefully seek out something so dangerous and unknown on just the hope of saving his sister.  Although… it’s probably a little hypocritical of you to think that way; you went looking for Jimin, after all, and that was after he tried to kill you. 

“We couldn’t believe what he was saying.  Geongmin was already in a coma by that point.  She would’ve been the only one who could’ve talked him out of it – we tried, we really did – but Namjoon went ahead and arranged a meeting anyway.  He’d meant to sneak the vampire into the ward, to have him turn her and save her but once he left… he didn’t come back for almost a week.”  He shakes his head again.  You can tell just from looking at Jimin that he feels some sense of responsibility for it; the guilt surrounding him is almost tangible.  

“She was already dead when he got back… wasn’t she?”  He leans forward, elbows on his knees, rubbing his hands over his face and then pushing his hair back, and suddenly you feel guilty for ever making him tell you this story, for making him relive it all.  It’s clearly still painful as painful now as it ever was. 

“They both were.  The vampire tricked him; drank him dry and then turned him instead, like some sort of sick joke.  When he crawled his way back and realised she was already gone Namjoon went out of his mind, mad with grief and thirst.  When his parents blamed him, attacked him for leaving her side – as if that would’ve somehow kept her alive – he lost control.  He killed them, drank them, not knowing what he was doing until it was already done.”

“Oh my god…” you mutter, shivering with the chill that comes over you as you listen to Jimin’s words.  Poor Namjoon… to have lost his sister, his parents, his humanity… to have it all so cruelly ripped away.  Perhaps you can see now why Namjoon is as he is, and why he thinks so very little of his own kind.  You can’t say you blame him, given the circumstance.  

“He came back to the hospital for us, to convince us to turn too.  He told us we could go anywhere we wanted to go, be anyone we wanted to be, and we were so young… so stupid and scared and full of grief… we barely even hesitated.  Namjoon drained us all, one by one, fed us his blood to keep us alive, and then two days later, when we’d officially been declared dead, we rose, broke out of the morgue, and ran.” 

Jimin falls silent, his story now finally complete.  He sits leant over with his face in his hands, his eyes looking out past the tops of his fingers, blank and unseeing, and you ache with the need to touch him, to kiss away the hurt, but you’re so unsure as to how he’d respond that you don’t quite dare.  And if you’re not able to offer physical comfort, then what on earth do you say after a story like that?  ‘Well, shit’ doesn’t quite do it justice, does it? 

All of a sudden, the garden is plunged into total pitch black as the moon becomes shrouded in cloud.  You can barely see half a metre in front of your face, but rather than be frightening, your sudden lack of sight actually makes you feel braver.  In the dark Jimin isn’t some beautiful, mystical creature… he’s just a man that’s hurting.  A man that you care for.  Why shouldn’t you want to be close to him, or express how you feel?  It’s not as though he’s pushed you away before, no matter what Namjoon said about this all being some elaborate lie.   

Bracing yourself for rejection, you slowly loop your arms around his waist to embrace him from behind and lean your cheek against the cool space between his shoulder blades.  Your bodies rise and fall in tandem to the rhythm of his breath, and after a moment you feel Jimin place his hand on your forearm and squeeze it tight, just for a second.  That little gesture, as simple as it is, makes a million butterflies inside of you take flight. 

“Thank you.” 

Chapter Text

After hearing all about the group’s origin story – Jimin laughs when you’d call it that, “What are we, superheroes?” – Jimin suggests that you both go inside and join the others for the rest of the evening.  Honestly though, it feels like such a lot to take in without any proper time to digest before seeing them all.  You’re sure that if you went and sat with them then all you’d be able to imagine is them being sick and weak and scared, and you don’t want that.   So you stay outside instead and sit by the fountain, just the two of you, and talk. 

You talk about all kinds of things at first, trying to keep the tone light after such a heavy conversation, but Jimin’s mention of his brother has piqued your interest, and before long you’re asking all about his family, his home town, his childhood.  His family was an unremarkable one, he tells you; a mother and a father who loved him, a younger brother who idolised his every move.  He’d loved to dance for as long as he could remember, and though his parents never approved little Jimin had still gotten his way, too cute and sweet to deny.  You can only imagine how adorable Jimin would’ve been as a child, with his expressive eyes and chubby cheeks.  How could anyone resist him? 

Just as Jimin shares, you do too, telling him all that he wants to know.  Conversation flows easily between the two of you, something you still find yourself feeling surprised about.  After spending so many years of your life being withdrawn and shy, how is it that Jimin and this unlikely group have managed to bring so much out of you?  Living here makes you feel like a completely different person – perhaps because it gives you the opportunity to pretend like you really are. 

Before you know it dawn isn’t too far away, the sun just starting to peep over the hills in the distance and turning the sky around it into a beautiful haze of burnt orange that fades into blue.  It’s a misty morning, and the garden is so shaded by the surrounding hedgerow that for now Jimin is safe, but he won’t be for very much longer. 

“You’d better go inside,” you tell him regretfully, wishing more than anything that you could halt the sunrise, just for a while, and spend a little longer like this.  Jimin nods, standing and moving deeper into the shade of the hedge, his eyes already suffering from the small amount of morning sun filtering through the night. 

“Are you coming, kitten?” he asks softly, and though it’s tempting, the idea of watching the sunrise proves to be even more of a temptation than Jimin on this rare occasion.  You feel like you haven’t felt the warmth of the sun on your skin in forever, though a week is hardly any time at all, so you shake your head, smiling. 

“I’d like to watch the sun come up, see the garden in the daylight,” you explain, secretly pleased when you see something akin to disappointment flashing across Jimin’s face before he nods again, hiding the emotion away. 

“Don’t stay up too late,” he warns playfully and you smile sweetly back. 

“I won’t.”  You watch Jimin go as he leaves, still smiling to yourself, your insides warm despite the chill that’s lingering in the air.  Something feels like it’s shifted tonight, changed between the two of you, and as the sun continues to rise in the sky, oranges and yellows melting into cotton-candy pink, you find yourself hoping that this could be dawn of something different. 

You’re not sure how long you sit there, marvelling at the sky whilst you slip into a sleepy stupor, only startling when the morning call of the birds starts to reach a fever pitch, but before long even you are starting to struggle with the brightness of the morning light.  You head back inside, but not before casting one last look at the forlorn garden you’re leaving behind.  Perhaps you could make something of it, make it beautiful again?  You’ll have to run the idea past Jimin; after all, it would be his money you’d need to use. 

Although your mind is eager for bed after such a long and intense night, your stomach seems to have others ideas.  No sooner have you stepped back inside it decides to rumble obscenely loudly, reminding that you need to eat, not just sleep.  You’d gotten so caught up with Jimin that you hadn’t even felt hungry until now. 

You make your way to the kitchen, knowing that Jin will have made you something as a ‘just in case’ and stashed it in the fridge, whether you showed your face last night or not.  You’re half asleep again, rooting around in the kitchen drawers for cutlery with your eyes nearly closed, when you hear something that jolts you wide awake.  It only lasts for a second, coming and going so quickly that you almost convince yourself that you’d dreamt it, about to carry on re-heating a delicious smelling chicken and noodle broth when you hear it again. 

What is that sound?  You come to a stand-still, bowl in hand, staring at the ceiling.  You’re sure it came from upstairs, whatever it was, because now the house is deadly silent again, the only noise coming from your slightly laboured, nervous breaths.  You place the bowl down gently, listening hard, certain that you’re not hearing things when it happens a third time.  Curiosity trumps fear; it always has with you.  You’ve never been one to hide away from the things that go bump in the night, instead you were the child forging ahead into the darkness of your closet with nothing but your teddy and your courage.  Foolish, maybe, but isn’t that how you ended up here? 

You make your way out of the kitchen, noodles long forgotten, along the corridor and into the entrance hall.  Convinced that the noise came from above you start to ascend the stairs, plush carpet softening your footsteps, barely daring to breathe lest you miss another sound. 

There it is again. Is that someone… crying?  The tone is decidedly female, too high-pitched to be anything else, and that in itself worries you.  What is another woman doing here, if not for…?  The thought of it nearly makes you turn back.  You’ve just about come to terms with the fact that everyone here but you is a killer.  It’s a fact that’s almost too easy to forget, one you’re more than happy to, and seeing or hearing one of them feed?  It’s a reminder you can do without. 

No, wait, that’s not someone crying that’s… no… it can’t be that?  Your feet start moving before you even know what you’re doing, drawn by your own morbid curiosity, barely realising that the stairs you’re climbing lead upward to the third floor until you’re already there.  Your palms are sweating as you creep down the narrow corridor that must lead to Namjoon’s room, and with each and every step you slowly realise that all your suspicions were true. 

“Oh, fuck!”  The sound of a woman’s voice, contorted with pleasure, comes from the door that stands ajar at the end of the corridor, the sound of skin slapping against skin audible from even where you stand frozen to the spot. 

“That’s it baby, louder, let me hear you,” Namjoon encourages, voice low and authoritative, and the woman he’s with groans wantonly in response. 

“Feels so good, god!” she cries, louder, like he asked, and with every second that passes you can feel heat start to engulf every inch of you, rising from your toes upward and pooling in your stomach. 

Your feet start moving all of their own accord again as you’re drawn towards their animalistic sounds, some sick fascination driving you forward.  You want to see, just for a second, just to see if it looks as good as it sounds.  Deep down you know that it’s weird and perverted and all kinds of wrong, but you still can’t seem to stop yourself from creeping ever closer to the small beam of light cast across the hallway floor from inside his bedroom.  Carefully, you position yourself behind the door, holding your breath, your heart beating so hard that you wouldn’t be surprised if it gave you away.

It’s takes you another good minute or so of listening to the woman’s soft moans and Namjoon’s heavy breathing before you finally work up the courage to take a peek, and god, what a sight awaits you when you do. 

Namjoon’s king-sized, four-poster bed is almost directly opposite the door.  Its black sheets are hanging half off, black and white patterned pillows thrown about the floor, and on top of the bed, on all fours, is a woman.  Her head is flopped forward so you can’t see her face, hair that’s the same colour as yours cascading around her shoulders, her fingers gripping onto the sheets so tight that you can see her arms quivering from here.  Her whole body is jolting with each of Namjoon’s thrusts, breasts bouncing, and for a second you feel so jealous.  Not because you want to be in her position, it’s not that.   It’s because this woman, with her curves and soft supple flesh, looks like the very embodiment of female sexuality, more erotic and desirable than you could ever hope to be, and you hate her for it.     

Your eyes soon drift away from her, whomever she is, undeniably drawn to Namjoon.  He’s on one bended knee behind her on the bed, taking her with harsh, staccato thrusts that have her falling further and further forward, her elbows crumpling under the weight of him, and his eyes are fixed on her behind, one hand on the small of her back, the other twisted in his own hair.  He’s frowning but only in concentration, his pouty lips parted, and he’s as naked as she is, his chest and stomach shining with the beads of sweat that are slowly inching their way down.  He looks sexier than you ever could’ve imagined he would.  

Within seconds of watching them you’re biting your lip, a real voyeur, knowing you should look away but unable to follow through.  You can practically feel every snap of Namjoon’s hips, your core throbbing, and when he unexpectedly draws back his hand and then plants a resounding smack against the woman’s behind, you end up gasping with her. 

As soon as the sound leaves your mouth you know it’s a mistake.  You clamp your hand over your mouth and dart back behind the door, your muscles trembling from the surge of adrenaline that suddenly shot through you.  What if he heard?  Or worse yet, what if he saw?  Surely he wouldn’t have; the cry that left her lips was far louder than yours, and if he’d seen you then surely they would’ve stopped?  You try your very hardest to slow your breathing, worried that you’ll make too much noise, and whilst your mind is telling you that you should take this chance to turn back now, while you still can, but your body just won’t let you.   

Hesitantly, you peek around the door once more. 

You’re sure, for a moment, that your heart has completely ceased beating.  Namjoon is staring directly towards your hiding place with a smirk on his face, his cheeks dimpled with amusement.  When he bites on his full bottom lip, slowing the motion of his hips to a delicious, rhythmic circling, your heart suddenly restarts, galloping a thousand beats per minute, blood roaring in your ears.  He knows you’re here and now he’s putting on a show, his eyes fixed on yours as he draws salacious moans from the woman underneath him. 

“You like that baby?” he asks, not taking his eyes from you.  She moans a yes, her face pressed into the mattress and her back arched, pushing back greedily against him with each thrust.  “You want to cum?”

“Mmm, please,” she affirms, voice muffled, and you find yourself wishing you could cum too, more than anything, so wet between your legs that it’s embarrassing.  Namjoon momentarily breaks eye contact with you to run one of his hands along her tanned shoulders, collecting all up of her hair and bunching it in his fist.

“And what do I get?”  He’s moving even slower now, deliberately drawing it out, and even you’re aching for him to move, desperate for him to do something

“Anything, baby, anything you want,” she rambles, turning her head to the side to look up at him, but Namjoon is already looking back to you, a satisfied smirk twisting his smile. 

“Good answer.”  And with that, Namjoon recommences the same relentless, punishing rhythm as before, holding the woman steady with a hand on her hip and his fist full of her hair.  He fucks her without mercy, till she’s crying out with every snap of his hips and you’re panting with want, and when you can tell she’s getting close, when she’s so delirious with pleasure that her whole body is quaking, Namjoon suddenly pulls her upright against him.  He places one hand on her stomach, the other yanking her head back by her hair, and now you can actually see his cock slipping back and forth into her pussy, can see her being stretched open by him, and you’re so aroused you think you might cum on the spot, completely untouched. 

Then you see his fangs, and any desire you felt before is smothered completely and utterly by fear.   

Her cries are reaching breaking point, the muscles in her stomach contracting, and Namjoon’s smile only grows wider at your horrified expression, lips drawing back to expose even more of his teeth as he drives her towards both her orgasm and her death. 

“Scream for me,” he commands, and you’re not sure if he means you or her, but then her orgasm takes hold of her, her whole body jolting with pleasure, and Namjoon strikes, sinking his teeth into her shoulder hard and without mercy.  She does scream then, her cries of ecstasy quickly morphing into panic-stricken shrieks of pain as his bite slices through pleasure, eyes opening wide and rolling in their sockets as she searches for someone, anyone to help.  She finds you, your eyes meeting for just a second before her eyelids start to droop, losing focus as her consciousness fades.  You feel sick, shaking with fear but compelled to keep watching as Namjoon’s hips falter as he cums too, the woman in his arms little more than a whimpering rag-doll until finally, only a second or two later, her eyes slide close, body pale, limp and lifeless. 

Namjoon looks up, smiling, crimson blood smeared across his face and lips and chin, dripping from his fangs like some kind of monster.  He is a monster.  Only a monster could do something so horrific, so depraved, and be smiling at the end of it, revelling in your reaction. 

“Was that good for you, honey?”

You turn on your heels and run, your body finally back under your control, almost throwing yourself down the stairs, taking them two or three at a time in an attempt to get away as fast as you can; away from Namjoon, away from the horrors you just witnessed.  You know that he won’t be chasing you.  Hurting you was never Namjoon’s intent in this.   No, he just wanted to show you what he was really capable of – what vampires are really capable of – but knowing that by no means slows you down.

Down one flight of stairs and then another, through the entrance hall and then the long corridor to Jimin’s room; you run it all.  Your throat burns from your harsh, rapid breaths, heart beating so fast that it feels as though it might explode, and it isn’t until you’re throwing yourself through Jimin’s bedroom door that you realise you have tears streaming down your face.  As soon as your bleary eyes recognise Jimin’s sleeping form you throw yourself onto his bed, crawling across it to reach him, becoming more distraught with every moment that goes by. 

“Jimin,” you sob, pulling at his arm, pawing at the sheets that cover him, crying so hard that you can barely see.  “Jimin!”  

He murmurs your name as he starts to wake, rubbing the side of his face against the pillow sleepily.  His eyes open slowly, but as soon as his vision focuses and he sees your tear-stained cheeks Jimin quickly sits upright, alert and alarmed, taking hold of each of your arms and squeezing them tight. 

“What happened?  Are you hurt?”  he asks frantically, his eyes scanning you from head to toe, checking for any signs of harm.  You shake your head miserably, unable to stop the tears from falling.  You can’t get the image of that dead woman in Namjoon’s arms out of your head, his haunting, blood covered smile…

“Namjoon… he…” The words come out like hiccups, your chest heaving erratically as you try to catch your breath.  

“Namjoon?  What did Namjoon do?” Jimin growls, his eyes narrowing dangerously, his grip on your arms starting to hurt.  

“I thought… I thought I heard something coming from upstairs, from his room,” you confess, knowing that Jimin had told you specifically not to go up there before and now feeling very foolish for not heeding his warning.  “There was a woman with him...”  You shake your head, a fresh batch of tears rolling down your face, hot and salty.  “One minute they were… having sex… and the next… he… Jimin he waited until she… and then…” 

You see understanding dawn in Jimin’s eyes, his lips parting in surprise.  You don’t need to finish your sentence for him to know exactly what happened, or for you to see it happening all over again in your mind.  The way she’d looked at you… you’re not sure that’s something you’ll ever be able to forget. 

“I’m so sorry,” Jimin tells you passionately, “I’m so sorry you saw that.”  He lets go of your arms, pulling you into him, wrapping one arm around your shoulders whilst the other cradles the back of your head, holding you close.   Now that you’re curled up in his embrace you completely break down, hiding your face against his bare chest as you sob, and sob, and sob, uncaring about how you must sound, or how unattractive this must be.  Jimin cradles you, running his fingers through your hair to comfort you until finally the tide starts to recede, tears subsiding, leaving you with a sore throat and puffy eyes, but otherwise intact. 

“He knew I was there,” you say softly, still curled up against him, absentmindedly tracing circles on the sheet that covers his lap.  “… I don’t understand.  If he needed to feed why wouldn’t he just… why would he bring her back here, do all that?  Do it then?”  Jimin sighs heavily and you look up at him, curious.  He’s frowning hard, looking away.

“What he did…” he begins, stopping to sigh again, pushing his hair back from his face, “It’s taboo, even among vampires.  Drinking blood is… it’s all we live for, but doing it while you’re intimate with your victim, when they…”  He trails off, gaze drifting down your throat as he licks his lips.  “It’s incredible.” 

You falter, pulling away slightly, repulsed by the idea of Jimin doing the same to some other poor, unsuspecting woman.  He reads your facial expression instantly, widening his eyes in innocence. 

“I’ve never tried it,” he tells you hurriedly, “I’ve only been told.”  You smile, relieved, allowing yourself to relax back into his arms, leaning your head on his shoulder.  You wonder who told Jimin about it.  Was it Namjoon?  Was this the first time, or just one of many?  You certainly hope this was the one and only occasion, but in a way it’s almost more worrying if it was.  Was it purely for your benefit?  Had he planned it all, hoping that you’d hear, that you’d come and investigate?  Did he pick some poor girl with hair identical to yours in both length and colour on purpose? 

Jimin shifts beside you, releasing you from his arms. 

“Lie down,” he instructs, shuffling himself further down in bed onto his side, his head resting atop of his arm.  You lie down to face him, looking back into his tired looking eyes with a small smile on your face.  No part of the two of you is touching, but just lying here like this, in his bed, feels so precious.  Jimin’s evidently still tired, his blinks are lazy and laboured, breathing slow, and after a minute or so he yawns, giving you an excellent of the fangs that he usually so carefully hides. 

You have no idea why, especially after what you’ve just seen, but as soon as you catch sight of them you feel your pelvic muscles contract with excitement.  Your mind starts to run away with you as Jimin’s eyes gradually close, the tiny little smile he sends you just before they do making your heart skip a beat.  Worrying your lip, watching him sleep, you can’t help but think about what it’d be like if you two were intimate that way.  Even though what Namjoon did was horrendous, the idea of Jimin doing it is… intriguing to say the least.  When he made you cum just days ago it was the most incredible thing you’d ever felt, and the endorphin rush you get when he feeds from you comes a very close second.  The thought of combining the two has squirming where you lay. 

You shuffle slightly closer to Jimin, studying his face thoughtfully.  He’s so perfect, every feature flawless, grey hair flopping into his eyes; you could stay here just gazing at him for hours and not get bored.  You’re captivated by his appearance, it’s true, but you’d be naive to pretend that attraction is the only thing you’re feeling.  Every day that goes by, you’re becoming more and more aware of just how much you’re coming to care for him.  You admire him; his strength, his grace, his unwavering loyalty to his friends.  He can be so unexpectedly sweet, so kind, and more importantly, he makes you feel safe – cared for. 

That’s probably why you feel the way you do; so eager to give yourself over to him in every possible way.  You’ve not had a real relationship before.  There were a few dates, a few kisses here and there, but your lack of experience has never really bothered you.  Until now you’ve never met anyone that you’d wanted to do those things with, but somehow Jimin feels different.  You trust him, perhaps foolishly, but you do.  With Jimin, you’re ready for more, and after your heart-to-heart during the night you no longer fear his rejection like you did before.

Gradually, your heart thumping with nerves, you close what’s left of the small space between Jimin’s sleeping face and yours and press your lips to his in a soft, shy kiss.  You pull back just enough to see his eyelids flutter open before you lean in for another, kissing his fleshy bottom lip and shifting your body closer to drape your arm over his waist. 

He whispers your name softly against your mouth. 

“What’re you doing, kitten?”  Jimin asks, leaning back to look in your eyes, his hand coming up to caress your cheek. 

“I want to try it,” you reply, gently rubbing the tip of your nose against his before stealing another kiss.  His eyes are darting back and forth between yours when you pull away again, his eyebrows pulled down into a slight frown of confusion.  You smile shyly as you take hold of his hand that was resting on your cheek, linking your fingers together.  “I want you.” 

Chapter Text

“I want you.”

You don’t need to tell Jimin twice; it takes only a second for his confused expression to morph into something so primal that it steals the breath out of your lungs.  Jimin takes your linked hand and presses it into the pillow to the side of your head as he rolls you onto your back, kissing you hungrily, his body half on top of yours.  He nips at your bottom lip, kitten-licking at the entrance to your mouth until you open up for him, groaning as his tongue slides inside to caress yours.  You hadn’t expected him to be quite so eager, but you’re so glad he is.  Mercifully, he’s so all over you that you don’t even have chance to feel nervous.  Instead, you focus on returning all his enthusiasm, trying not to think, just to feel.  You place your free hand on his muscular back, grabbing at his shoulder blade to keep him close as he plants one of his legs between yours, bending it, bringing his knee up to meet the juncture of your thighs, your skirt riding up to your hips.  Grinding down against him you soon begin to moan, your skin on fire, burning for him, eager to remove the clothes that feel so suffocating. 

Jimin disentangles your fingers, no longer kissing your mouth but trailing his lips along your jaw.  He starts to undo your blouse, popping button after button, and with each one your breathing gets heavier, watching his dexterous fingers work and biting your lip in anticipation of his touch.  Jimin pushes himself up on his elbows to look down on you, eyes devouring your freshly exposed skin and then lingering on the pretty pink longline bra you’d chosen the night before, his expression pure, blistering heat.  He looks like he wants to eat you alive, and honestly, you’re more than happy to let him. 

Next, Jimin delves his hand inside your bra, lifting your soft breasts out and up in turn.  Your nipples are already fully erect with arousal, so sensitive that when he rubs his calloused thumb over just one your body twists all of its own accord, a moan escaping you.  A smile pulls at Jimin’s lips, clearly pleased by your body’s enthusiastic reaction to even his smallest of gestures.  The gentle rubbing of his thumb quickly turns into rough pinching and rolling between his fingertips, reducing you to a blushing, gasping mess beneath him.

“I bet I could make you cum just like this,” he smirks, his voice husky.  You can only watch, mesmerised, as he slowly licks his lips and then takes your other nipple in his mouth, his eyes closing as he moans around it.  Wet, warm arousal dampens your underwear as he starts sucking, flicking with his tongue, and the longer he continues the more you think he might just be right. 

You gasp his name as he bites down, your voice slicing through the silence of his room.  He opens up his eyes to look up at you, heavy-lidded, your nipple caught between his teeth, and just the sight of it has you moaning again.  You hadn’t thought it could be possible, but with his hair hanging in front of his face and his eyes darkened with desire, Jimin looks sexier than ever. Your hips flex upwards in desperation to be touched, Jimin’s thick thigh no longer providing adequate relief no matter how much he flexes it against you.  Your hands start to paw at your thighs, tugging at the hem of your skirt almost of their own accord, and when Jimin realises what you’re doing he detaches himself from you and sits up, grabbing your wrists and pining them above your head.  It catches you off guard, making you gasp, but even though it’s unexpected you can’t deny that it stirs something inside you. 

“If you want something, all you have to do is say,” Jimin tells you, smiling salaciously, one eyebrow raised.  He unceremoniously sits himself atop of you to straddle your waist, his erection tenting the material of his sweatpants and leaving a glaringly obvious wet patch of pre-cum that you can’t stop staring at.  He follows your eye-line, his smile only growing wider as he looks back up to you.  “What do you want, kitten?” 

“You,” you answer breathily, unashamedly, “All of you.”  Jimin chuckles at your reply, all of his weight pressing onto your wrists as you leans over you, so close that his breath tickles your face.

“So needy for me, aren’t you?” he teases, nipping playfully at the tip of your nose.  You tip your head back, searching for his kiss, but Jimin stays just out of reach, smiling.  He relinquishes his hold on your wrists, planting kisses along your cheek until he reaches your ear.  “Take off your underwear.”   It’s almost embarrassing how quickly you obey, lifting your hips up as best you can with Jimin sat on top of you and shuffling both your skirt and panties down.  “Good girl,” he praises, grazing his teeth against the shell of your ear, “Now, put your hands back above your head and spread those legs for me.  Let’s see how wet you are.” 

You raise your arms above your head again, almost dizzy with excitement as you watch Jimin shift off of your stomach to kneel between your legs.  He places a hand on each of your inner thighs and pushes back, opening you up, cocking his head to the side and staring directly at the most intimate part of you.

“Jimin,” you whine, mortified by his brazen behaviour.  All you want to do is cover your eyes and press your legs together to hide, but Jimin’s hold on your thighs is too strong, and you want to please him too badly to go moving your hands from where he told them to stay.  You turn your head to the side and close your eyes, blushing. 

Jimin says your name sharply.

“Look at me, or I’ll tie you up and leave you this way.”  Your head snaps back to face him, eyes popping open but your blush only deepening at the thought of Jimin restraining you in such a way.  The look on his face is nothing short of animalistic, his pupils so dilated that there’s none of the iris left to see, and when he looks back down you see him lick his lips hungrily.  “Is your pussy as sweet as the rest of you, I wonder?” 

Jimin doesn’t wait for a reply.  He loops his hands under your thighs and grabs a handful of your ass in each hand, using it as leverage to pull your core towards him as he simultaneously dips his head.  You squeak at the unexpected movement, the sound quickly morphing into a gasp as Jimin’s eager tongue makes contact with your pussy, licking a firm strip from bottom to top.   

“Shit,” you mumble under your breath, wide eyes staring up at the ceiling in disbelief.  How did you get here?  One moment you were sobbing into his chest and now… now Jimin’s lapping you up like you’re his very favourite treat.   How the hell did this happen? Your thoughts are a jumbled, rambling mess, but your internal monologue doesn’t last for long; you can’t concentrate with Jimin exploring you, humming appreciatively as he does.  You have to grab onto the pillow on either side of your head when he finds your clitoris, your hips bucking, garbling a moan at how amazing it feels.  He draws circles against it with his tongue, flicking it, kissing it, biting it. 

“Fuck, fuck,” you curse again, your pussy throbbing with want, writhing under Jimin’s fervent attention.  Pleasure jolts down your spine like electricity when he pushes one finger inside you and then two, rubbing at your g-spot as he abuses your clitoris, and with double the stimulation it doesn’t take long for a delicious knot to start forming in your stomach.  You’re grabbing and pulling at the pillow so hard it’s a wonder feathers haven’t started flying, that knot winding tighter and tighter.  Your moans only egg Jimin on, his tongue taking it in turns to flick against your clitoris and then dip inside you pussy alongside your fingers as he gazes up at you past your pubic bone to watch you come undone. 

Seeing him there between your legs, watching him as he watches you, finally pushes you over the edge, spiralling, hurtling into your orgasm, that knot that was wound so tight finally snapping.  Your body convulses, the feel of his fingers and his tongue suddenly too much and not enough all at once, biting down on your lip to keep from screaming.  It goes on and on, wave after wave of pleasure, and when it eventually begins fade you’re left shaking all over, wide-eyed and panting.

Jimin looks like a man possessed when he comes out from between your legs to sit back on his heels.  His lips are a deeper shade of red, swollen and shining with your arousal, and it’s with dark, feral eyes that he crawls back towards you, prowling like an animal to lay his body on top of yours.  He kisses you passionately, so hard that it verges on frantic, feeding the taste of yourself inside of your mouth with his tongue as he pushes his erection against you. If it weren’t for his sweatpants blocking the way his cock would have already slipped inside, and the thought of it has you pushing back up against him in encouragement.  You want it so bad… you don’t think you’ve ever wanted anything as much as this. 

“I can’t wait to get inside you,” Jimin growls, and your pussy pulses at just the thought of it. 

“Do it then,” you goad, dragging your bottom lip through your teeth, his eyes zoning in on the motion and his Adam’s apple bobbing in response, “Fuck me Jimin.” 

You’ve no idea when you became so bold.  The idea of losing your virginity had always terrified you before; what if it hurt, what if you bled everywhere, what if you hated sex, or worse, what if you were terrible at it?  But with Jimin, none of it seems to matter.  He’s already shown you more pleasure than you ever could have dreamed, and you have no doubt that this will be no exception. 

Jimin pulls back and slides down his sweatpants and underwear, kicking them off the bed, his cock springing free.  The head is angry and red, a sharp contrast against his pale, chiselled stomach, and your fingers twitch above your head with the urge to wrap your fingers around it again.  You loved feeling the thick weight of him in your palm, but you have a feeling you’re going to love him inside of you even more. 

As Jimin makes towards you your legs automatically spread wider, inviting him in, your breath quickening in anticipation, and the corners of his lips flicker up into a brief, satisfied smile.

“Sit up,” he instructs.  You push yourself up onto your elbows and Jimin slips your blouse from your shoulders, pulling it off of one arm then the other, suddenly gentle and slow, his eyes roving over your body.  “Hold onto me.”  Wrapping your arms around his neck you bring your body up to his and press your cheek to his, nuzzling at the side of his face as he swiftly unhooks your bra, slipping that off too.  You shiver deliciously, pressing adoring kisses into the curve of his neck as his delicate fingers trace your back, lightly tickling you.  It feels so intimate, so close, so wonderful. 

Jimin lowers you down into the soft mattress, and as he pulls away you feel your heart thud hard and heavy, your breath shaking as it escapes your lips.  Your nerves seem to have come back tenfold, and you have to hold onto the sheets to make it less obvious that your hands are trembling.   He can’t seem to get enough of looking at you, his eyes trailing up and down your body appreciatively as he kneels between your legs.  You try not to look away, remembering his earlier threat, trying so hard to be confident and brave even though you feel anything but. 

You see Jimin take his cock in his hand right before he sinks his body onto yours, putting all his weight onto the elbow that lies next to your head, and the next moment you feel hot, hard flesh pressing against your core.  The contact makes you gasp an inhale and then forget to breathe altogether as Jimin’s face hovers only an inch above yours, so close that his breath tickles.  His eyes fall closed as he slowly rubs himself back and forth through the wetness of your folds, pressing his lips together and frowning with the effort of holding back, but you keep yours wide open.  You don’t want to miss a single second of this; a single shift of expression on his beautiful face.

All of that intention falls away when Jimin starts to gradually push inside of you, your eyes automatically closing as you gasp at the burning stretch of being breached for the very first time. He has to move slow, you’re too tight to do anything else, your pussy squeezing every inch of him and making him groan long and low in the back of his throat.  It hurts, you can’t pretend it doesn’t, but it’s not as unbearable as you’d thought it might be, and the fullness you feel when Jimin finally bottoms out is something you could definitely get used to. 

“You feel… so… good,” Jimin mumbles, circling his hips against yours.  His starts to kiss you again, sensually, unhurriedly, lacing his fingers through your hair, giving you time to accommodate the girth of him.  You’re sure he doesn’t know you’re a virgin, but you’re glad he’s going slow.  The longer he stays seated in you the better it’s starting to feel, and before long you’re itching for him to start moving, eager to find out if it gets even better.  When he feels your body squirming impatiently underneath him Jimin chuckles, smiling against your mouth.  “You really are needy, aren’t you?” he teases, tugging on your bottom lip with his teeth before pulling away slightly to look into your eyes, smirking.  “Don’t worry kitten, I’ll give you what you need.” 

With those words Jimin withdraws himself from you, only to roughly slide home with a snap of his hips.  It takes you completely by surprise, crying out loudly, your back bowing at the new and incredible sensation. 

“This is what you want, isn’t it?” he grunts between slow, deep thrusts, each one feeling better than the last.  His cock is striking that same, secret spot inside of you, getting you even wetter and easing the way inside.  You’re just starting to get into the rhythm of it, flexing your hips back up against him, when Jimin suddenly grabs hold of one of your thighs and plants it on his shoulder, becoming more upright against you.  The change in angle feels so good, and soon you’re mewling with pleasure as you push back against him, wishing he’d go faster, go harder. 

“Fuck, you take my cock so well,” Jimin praises, voice breathy with exertion.  You finally manage to peel open your eyes and look up at him, your cheeks flushed, only to see him staring down at you with his lip caught between his teeth.   It only gets you hotter, and when you see him glance down to the where the two of you meet, you can’t help but look too.  Somehow watching Jimin’s thick cock disappear inside you, only to reappear again covered in your juices, makes you feel it all the more intensely. 

“Jimin, please,” you implore breathlessly, gazing up at him from underneath your lashes.  You can feel your orgasm starting to build, but at this pace you feel like it could go on forever, leaving you stranded right on the edge for hours on end. “Faster, I need- I need-“ You falter, pressing your eyes shut and biting on the inside of your mouth as he continues his slow, torturous pace. 

Jimin moves your leg from his shoulder and lies back on top of you again, rubbing your aching hip soothingly and pressing kiss after kiss against your jaw.

“I told you, kitten, I’ll give you what you need,” he coos to you, caressing your cheek, and when you open up your eyes again you’re completely overwhelmed by the look affection that greets you.  “I can’t resist you.”  He starts to kiss you again, sliding his tongue into your mouth in conjunction with his hips, slowly building up to the speed you so crave.  His thrusts are faster and shallower like this but it still feels incredible.  You know it won’t take long for all the pleasure building up inside of you will reach a peak, and you chase after it, meeting every one of his thrusts, loving the way he’s starting to moan into your kiss. 

“You can touch me.”  You hadn’t even realised you hadn’t been, too caught up in clutching onto the sheets.  “Fuck,” he gasps, “Touch me.” 

“Jimin…”  Your hands find their way onto his back and you can feel his muscles rippling as he moves, his skin damp with sweat.  Somehow, having your hands on him makes it feel all the more intimate, makes it feel even better, and instinctively you lift your legs and wrap those around his waist too, pulling him even tighter to you.  “Jimin… I think – ah – I’m close, Jimin, I’m so close,” you ramble, and he starts to move even faster, fucking into you so hard you think you might break.  You’re about to cum, about to fall apart when a lust-drunk Jimin growls your name. 

“Can I, kitten?” you hear him ask through the haze, “Can I taste you?” 

“God, yes!”  You cry out your consent just as your orgasm hits.   Every one of your nerve endings begins to spark and fire over and over again, every muscle contracting with excruciating pleasure.  You’re not even aware of his impending bite until the slice of his fangs piercing your flesh hits, pain mixing with pleasure as he carries on his unyielding pace, using his grip on your hair to hold you fast to him.  You feel him sucking, fucking, the nails you’d been digging into his back slowly losing their grip as you slide into blissful oblivion. 

You’re just about awake enough to feel it when Jimin cums, his cock pulsing inside you as he fills you with his hot, creamy load, forcibly detaching himself from your neck so as not to get carried away.

“Fuck, fuck, fuck,” he pants as he makes his few last, sloppy thrusts, sounding as drunk as you feel as he finally collapses on top of you, his head resting between your breasts. 

“Jimin,” you murmur with your eyes closed, completely and utterly blissed out, just about managing to lift your hands to run them through his hair.  He mumbles your name back, sliding out of you and shifting to lie at your side, pressing his nose to your one cheek and lazily caressing the other. 

“Mm… thank you.”  You feel him pull the sheet up and over your bodies, glad that it feels cool to the touch.  You’re so hot… so tired… and you want to look at Jimin so badly, but you just can’t seem to find the will to open your eyes.  “You were so good… tasted so good.  So sweet.  Can we do it again?”  Despite your exhaustion you still end up giggling at Jimin’s rambled request, shaking your head, knowing that he’s looking at you even if you’re not looking at him. 

“In the morning,” you sigh sleepily, turning your head to press a gentle, chaste kiss to his lips that he eagerly returns. 

“You’re mean,” he complains when you pull away, sounding more childlike and innocent than you’ve ever heard him sound before.  He still ends up yawning though, cuddling up to your side and laying his arm across your waist, and by the time you’ve managed to prise open your eyes he’s already got his closed, breathing slow and steady with his cheek pressed to your shoulder.  You smile to yourself, gently pushing back the hair that’s fallen forward across his face.  He suddenly looks so young, so vulnerable; someone sweet, soft and playful.  He looks human for the first time, not at all like Jimin the dominating and seductive vampire, and as you look down at his face, watching him sleep and falling asleep yourself, you realise something.  

Regardless of which Jimin he might be… you’re falling in love.

Chapter Text

Just as you were the last to fall asleep, you’re the first one to wake the following evening.  All your muscles ache as you roll over in Jimin’s bed, sore from being having your limbs held and pushed and bent into positions you’ve never been in before, and speaking of sore… you feel quite tender between your legs.  There’s a slight sting that Jimin’s left in his wake, but honestly you quite like feeling it there.  It serves as proof that last night wasn’t just some wonderful dream cooked up by your over-excited imagination. 

The fact that Jimin is still lying in bed next to you is pretty convincing evidence, too.  He’s lying on his side facing away from you, the sheets hung low across the slope of his hips, and from the sound of his heavy, deep breathing, you presume he must still be asleep.   You find yourself smiling as you gaze at his porcelain back, inspecting every line of gorgeous muscle, hardly daring to believe that last night was real.  You still can’t imagine why Jimin would ever want you, but last night he certainly seemed like he did. 

God, the way he made you feel… you never once had thought that you first time would be so good.  All the stories you’d been told before had made losing your virginity sound horrendous.  You’d expected it to be bumpy, awkward and embarrassing, but with Jimin it was anything but.  You’d loved every second. 

Your mind drifts back to the realisation you’d made as you’d been falling asleep, a blush forming on your cheeks.  Now that you’re more awake, more clear-headed, you can’t deny it to yourself any longer.  Your heart starts to gallop whenever you’re around him, and when you’re not you ache to be at his side, relishing every moment you spend in his company.  When he smiles you smile, and when he hurts you do too.  You want to make him happy, to bring him comfort, to find out all there is to know about him, and open yourself up too.  You’re never, ever felt this way about anyone before.  Not even close.  You’re in love with Jimin.  In love with a vampire.  Your mother would be so proud.  

It doesn’t take long for the urge to touch him to become too much to bear when you’re already lying so close.  As gently as you can you shift yourself across the small amount of mattress between you and snuggle up to his back, gingerly resting your arm across his waist.  You hope not to wake him, but as soon as you press a kiss between his shoulder blades you feel him stir, exhaling and shifting next to you.  Figuring that he’s already starting to wake up you decide that there’s probably no point in trying to be so careful about disturbing him, pressing another kiss to his back. 

“Morning.”  Your mouth starts to form his name, but then suddenly you remember the title that Jin told you about, the one that couples use, and you figure that if you can’t use it after last night, then when can you?  “Did you sleep well, Jagiya?”

Jimin’s frame immediately stiffens against you, his whole body turning to stone in your arms, but before you can say anything or ask what’s wrong he abruptly gets up, sitting on the edge of the bed facing away from you, far away from your grasp. 

“Don’t call me that,” he tells you sharply, turning his head to the side to glance at you over his shoulder.  The smile that had been plastered on your face dissolves in seconds, confused by the way he’s acting and his sudden change in attitude.

“Did I do something wrong?”  you ask, your voice as quiet as a whisper.  You see him lean forward to pick something up off the floor, and then he stands up, simultaneously pulling up his boxers.  If you weren’t so worried you’d appreciate the fleeting sight of his shapely behind, but as it is, you’re starting to feel a little bit sick. 

“No,” he answers shortly, but he’s not very convincing.  A couple of agonising minutes pass by where Jimin walks around the room getting dressed, barely looking at where you’re sat up in bed, holding the sheet tight around yourself, feeling more naked now than you ever did last night. 

“Jimin.”  You have to call him again, your throat so tight with anxiety that it’s making it difficult for you to speak.  “Jimin… something’s the matter…”  He pulls on a t-shirt, finally making eye-contact with you when his head comes out the other side, but his expression is almost completely blank.  Emotionless.   “Won’t you talk to me?”  He pushes his hair back and exhales heavily. 

“Look…. Don’t make the mistake of thinking this is more than what it is,” Jimin tells you bluntly, “You’re here for my pleasure, my entertainment, nothing more.”  His words hit you like a sucker-punch to the stomach.  You curl your arms around yourself, your mouth coming open, eyebrows pulling down into a frown as you stare back at him disbelievingly. 

“But I thought… this morning?”  How is he saying these things?   How can he just be standing there looking at you like this, so expressionlessly? 

“This isn’t a relationship.”  He looks away from you. “I don’t need, or want, your affection.” 

You’re so shocked that you can’t even cry, even though it feels like your heart is breaking inside your chest.  Your gaze falls down to the bedsheets as you tighten your arms around yourself even more, trying to physically hold yourself together as everything feels like it’s falling apart.  “I have to go.”

When you look up again Jimin is already by the door, his jacket and shoes on, bag in hand, ready to go.  You don’t recognise the person he is right now… he doesn’t even look like the vampire you first met.  This person is a total stranger, and seeing him like this hurts almost as much as the things he’s said. 

“I’ll be back in the morning, and we’ll move your things into your own room.”  He… he doesn’t want you to sleep in here anymore?  Not even on the chaise lounge?  You feel a solitary tear slide down your cheek, unable to even speak, and when Jimin notices it you swear you see something flicker in his eyes.  Regret?  Concern?  Fear?  But then it’s gone again as quickly as it came, and with it goes any hope that you had that your Jimin might suddenly reappear. “I’ll see you later.” 

And then he’s gone, shutting the door behind him with a thud.  The moment you’re on your own you completely fall apart, sinking down into the bed as your hands cover your face, catching the tears that are streaming down your face.  You lie on your side, curling yourself into a ball, your whole body heaving with sobs as you try to make sense of what could have just happened. 

You never expected Jimin to feel as strongly as you do; why would he, after all? But you really thought he felt… something.  The way he’d acted around you lately, the way he’d looked at you when he was inside you… when you gave yourself to him.  God, could all of that just have been pretend?  Was it all just a rouse to get you into bed?  Maybe now that he’d had you you were no longer wanted, and that’s why he was behaving this way?  What if you really were as terrible as you’d feared you might be?  You were so sure that he cared about you, so sure that last night was as good for him as it was for you.  Maybe you really are a fool, just like Namjoon said? 

And what are you supposed to do now?  You’re not sure you could stand to look at Jimin if this is how he’s going to be from now on, nevermind have him touch you.  How are you supposed to do such intimate things with someone, knowing that they don’t even care about you?

You’re not sure how long you cry for… all you know is that by the time it stops your eyes are sore and dry and your chest is aching with every breath you take.  Even after you’ve stopped crying you can only bring yourself to lie there for a while, holding yourself and staring at the door, wishing that Jimin would walk back through it again.  That he’d apologise, tell you he didn’t mean it and kiss you like he did before.   

Eventually you manage to drag yourself out of bed and into the bathtub.  Even in there you end up lingering so long that you skin prunes, ignoring the way you stomach is aching for food, only getting out once the water is stone cold.  You don’t really want to get dressed either, but it’s not as though you have any clothes you can just lay around in, so you throw on the first dress you find, bursting into a fresh bout of tears when you put on your collar to hide the fresh bite marks Jimin left behind.   You look like such a state.  Your face is drawn, your cheeks puffy, eyes red, hair a tangled wet mess around your shoulders.  It’s tempting to stay in his room – you’re not exactly keen on spending time with the others, looking like this – but you’re not sure you want to be in here when Jimin gets back, either. 

In the end you head down the corridor and through the entrance hall towards Yoongi’s bedroom, hoping to find him there.  He often spends time on his own, away from the rest, so maybe he might be able to provide some quiet, solitary company.  You’re fairly certain you can cope with that, though he’ll probably still tell you that you look like crap. 

Sure enough, when you push open Yoongi’s door he’s already sat playing the piano.  You don’t loiter this time, walking inside and pushing the door closed behind you, trying your best to smile.

“Hi,” you greet softly, approaching the piano and sitting yourself at his side as he automatically moves across, making room for you. You’ve visited him regularly enough to feel comfortable just the two of you, conversation an option rather than a necessity. 

“I was wondering when you’d reappear.” You apologise for your absence, although you’re not entirely sure why.  “Has Jimin gone out?”  The mention of his name makes you flinch, looking down at the keys and watching Yoongi’s fingers move, effortless as always.  

“Yes,” you reply shortly, swallowing hard, trying to push down the lump that’s formed in your throat.  Mercifully, he asks no more.  Although Yoongi might often be blunt and sharp, he’s also surprisingly emotionally perceptive.  Perhaps that’s why he doesn’t say anything more, letting the topic of Jimin drop without pushing any further. 

You’re more than content to sit and watch him play for a while, letting the music lull you and drown out any bad thoughts, but after a little while Yoongi starts to play a tune that you recognise.  It’s his part of a simple piano duo that he’s been teaching you over the last couple of days, a sad, slow song with lots of note repetition that you’d almost mastered the last time you played.  He looks up at you expectantly, clearly wanting you to join in, and after a moment’s hesitation, you do.

It doesn’t go well.  You can’t concentrate on the notes or the order they’re supposed to go in, getting confused between Yoongi’s part and yours, and your hands are still shaking from a combination of hunger and distress.  It sounds terrible, even to your ears, and you start to think it’s just another thing that you’re bad at, something that you thought was going well but really isn’t… just like you and Jimin.

Yoongi tuts, clearly displeased.

“Did you bump your head and forget how to play or something?” he asks, finally giving up and turning to face you.  “That was god damn awful.”  Feeling miserable, you look up from the keys to Yoongi’s frowning face and open your mouth to say sorry again, hesitating when you see the sudden change in the black-haired vampire’s expression.  “Hey, no, I’m sorry,” he apologises quickly, both his eyebrows rising high, worry written all over his face, “It wasn’t that bad.”  It’s only then that you realise you’re crying again, upset and frustrated, hot tears rolling down your cheeks.  You roughly rub them away with the backs of your hands, sniffing and looking away from the concern in his eyes, embarrassed that you’ve let him see you this way.  

“It’s not that,” you assure him, clearing your throat, trying your very best to hold your tears at bay.  You’ve cried enough in the past 24 hours. 

“Than what is it?”  You shake your head, smiling darkly down at the keys.  You’d really rather not have anyone else know just how stupid and naive you’ve been, but of course, Yoongi is perceptive as always.  “Did something happen with Jimin?”  Meeting his gaze again, you’re relived and grateful to find nothing but kindness waiting there.  “You can always talk to me… I won’t say anything if you don’t want me to.  Promise.”  Yoongi gives you an encouraging smile, lifting up his hand to offer his pinky finger as a guarantee of his silence.  The sweet gesture is so unexpected from someone like Yoongi that it actually makes you smile, giving a short, breathy laugh as you twist your finger around his. 

You take a bracing breath, preparing yourself for what you’re about to confess, and for Yoongi’s inevitable reaction.

“I thought Jimin cared about me, but I was wrong.  Really wrong,” you explain, hoping to skirt around the subject, but Yoongi just cocks his head, even more curious than before.

“What makes you think that he doesn’t?”  You hesitate, unable to look him in the eyes you say it, your cheeks turning pink. 

“We slept together… and I thought it’d meant something to him but earlier he was… he was so cold Yoongi.  He’d barely even look at me.”  Both of Yoongi’s eyebrows rise, his mouth that had popped open in surprise floundering for a moment as he thinks of what to say.

“Well, uh…” He clears his throat, glancing away, and you notice him rub his hands back and forth on his trousers, “I guess guys don’t always… make that… immediate emotional connection that women sometimes do when it comes to… that.” 

“I know,” you admit, shaking your head, “I wasn’t expecting him to wake me up with breakfast in bed or professing his love or anything like that, him being… normal would’ve been fine!  But it was like he was a completely different person.  He was so distant.  He’s never been like that before.”  You shrug again helplessly as Yoongi frowns, chewing on his bottom lip thoughtfully.  “And of course it feels even worse because that was…”  You cut yourself off, realising what you were just about to say and stopping short of it.   He doesn’t need to know about that particular detail, but of course once you’ve said it, Yoongi wants to know. 

“It was what?”  Your cheeks start to blaze with heat, looking anywhere but at Yoongi’s curious eyes, and you’re toying nervously with the ends of your hair by the time you speak again. 

“My first time with Jimin was my… my first time.”  There’s a very poignant, pregnant pause before Yoongi seems to register what it was that you just said. 

“Oh.”  You glance up at him, your cheeks feeling hotter than the sun.  “Oh!”  Realisation dawns across Yoongi’s face, and you’re sure if he could blush too he would be.  When you give him a half-hearted, pitiful smile, his expression turns sad and sympathetic.  “Oh.” 

“He told me I was here for his entertainment.  ‘This isn’t a relationship.  I don’t need your affection’,” you repeat, lifting your fingers to make the quotation marks and trying to remain emotionally detached from the words coming out of your mouth.  If you think about them too hard they’ll just make you cry again.  

Yoongi is quiet for quite some time.  For so long, in fact, that you turn back to the piano and start to play a few notes, your hands a little steadier now that you’ve confided in him. 

“I’m sorry,” Yoongi softly apologises at your side.  You smile sadly at the keys, concentrating on the motion of your hands as you play. 

“You don’t need to apologise for him.” 

“I do,” he disagrees quickly, and suddenly his hand comes to rest upon yours atop of the piano keys, his long fingers threading through yours.  You look up sharply, startled, feeling even more surprised when you see the soft, compassionate look on Yoongi’s face.  “You deserve someone to value you as the treasure you are.”  His words take your breath away, so taken aback by this sudden turn of events that the idea of pulling your hand out of his doesn’t even occur to you.  Neither does it cross your mind to stop him from lifting his other hand to gently stroke back your hair.  On the contrary, you find yourself leaning into his touch, eager for the comfort and affection you so crave. 

You see him glance down to your lips, his tongue darting out to moisten his own, and before you’ve even really registered what’s happening, Yoongi is leaning in towards you and so are you, your mouths meeting tenderly in the middle.  His kiss is tentative, unsure and sweet, so very different from any you’ve had with Jimin, his lips thinner and firmer but certainly not unpleasant by any means.  He takes your face in both his hands as you kiss while yours hover in mid-air between the two of you, unsure of where to put them.  His lips part as a clear invitation for yours to do the same, and even though in the back of your mind you know that you shouldn’t, that it’s wrong, they do. 

From the moment you met you’ve thought Yoongi was attractive, with his dark hair and brooding face.  Next to Jimin he’s probably the one you’re closest to, and even though he doesn’t make your heart race quite the way Jimin does, you do care for him.  You suppose that’s why you’re still kissing him, letting his tongue brush enticingly against yours.  It’s hard to feel sad with him distracting you like this, and you’ve already cried so much. 

“I’ve wanted to do this from the moment you sat here playing chopsticks, smiling and laughing,” he tells you, still cupping your face in his hands, his words muffled by the kisses he’s still pressing against your lips, “You were so beautiful.  You’re so beautiful.” 

“Yoongi,” you sigh against him, your heart aching at the sweetness of his words, hands finally coming down to rest atop of his slender thighs. 

The moment you touch him it’s like something snaps.  His kiss becomes harder, more frantic, his hands leaving your face to pull you into his lap so that you’re straddling his waist, your back crashing noisily into the piano keys.  You gasp at the disjointed, jarring sound and the feel of Yoongi’s erection pressing against your core, his hands grasping at your hips.  He groans your name, kissing your cheek, your jaw, your neck, your…

The moment you feel his lips skirt around your collar, Jimin’s collar, it’s like cold water has been doused all over you, suddenly brought back your senses. 

“Yoongi.”  You touch his cheek gently, halting his downward trail. “Yoongi, stop.”  He looks up at you, his normally thin eyes wide with concern and his lips swollen from kissing.  You’re sure yours are too.  You run your fingers through his hair and at your touch his eyes flop closed, leaning into it.  “I care about you… I do… but I can’t do this.” 

Chapter Text

Yoongi blinks back at you once, twice and then a third time, unspeaking, and as he does it’s like you can see the cloud of desire slowly leaving his eyes.  The expression that was so lustful just a second ago morphs rapidly into embarrassment, and he looks away from you, pressing his lips together.

“I’m sorry,” he apologises quickly, glancing down to where you’re sat on his lap, your legs still on either side of him and swallowing.  Using the hands that were still resting on your hips he swiftly lifts you off of him to plonk you back down on the piano stool, and then he gets up steps away, looking guiltily at the floor.  “You’re upset, and I shouldn’t have-“

“Yoongi, it’s ok,” you tell him, trying to reassure him and soothe his conscience.  He looks mortified, rubbing his hand around his mouth, shifting uneasily from foot to foot, unable to even look at you.  Seeing him like that upsets you, almost bringing you to tears again at the thought that you might have spoiled yet another relationship with someone important to you.  “Please.”  You shift to the edge of the seat nearest him, extending your hand to grab hold of his, and when you do Yoongi finally meets your gaze, his eyebrows knotted down in a frown.  “I wanted to,” you tell him, pausing, biting on your lip.  He can’t help but watch you do it, his tongue darting out to moisten his own lips.  You wonder if he can still taste you there like you can taste him.  “I want to.  I just… can’t.  I’m in love with Jimin.”  Now it’s your turn to look away, shaking your head with a gloomy smile.  “I know it’s stupid.” 

Yoongi’s quiet for a moment but carries on holding your hand, caressing it with his thumb, finally giving it a gentle squeeze that pulls your attention back to him. 

“It’s not stupid,” he disagrees, “But he better start appreciating it.”  He gives you a tiny smile, his black bangs falling into his eyes as he looks down at you.  When you smile back he squeezes your hand again before letting it go, and somehow, you know that the two of you will be ok. 

Yoongi shifts and adjusts the waistband of his trousers with a cough, glancing downward, and you have a smother a laugh at the rather obvious problem he’s still having.  He catches you sniggering into the back of your hand and gives you a withering look, unable to keep himself from smiling too at the odd position you’ve found yourselves in.  Your underwear is hardly like the Sahara either, truth be told, but at least it’s not so obvious for you. 

“Is it still ok if I stay here for a while?”  you ask, hoping that he won’t mind you lingering after what’s just happened between the two of you.  You’re fairly certain you can restrain yourself from this point onwards, but you know he might not feel the same, and you don’t want to make things difficult or awkward for him. 

“Of course,” he replies without hesitation, “We can just chill and watch TV, listen to some tunes or something.”  He gestures toward the bed and your eyebrows automatically rise, a sceptical smile pulling at your lips.  Yoongi just rolls his eyes, huffing but smiling. “I’m not a complete animal.  I do have some self-control.” 

“Sure,” you say sarcastically, teasing.  It certainly didn’t feel like he did five minutes ago. 

You push yourself up to standing from the piano stool, but as soon as you’re upright you suddenly wobble, caught off guard by a wave of dizziness that leaves your head spinning.  Yoongi is quickly at your side, one arm around you waist, leaning your weight against him. 

“Hey, you ok?”  The concern is all too evident in his voice as he looks you up and down, looking for the source of whatever’s made you so unsteady. 

“You must have gotten me all weak at the knees,” you joke feebly, putting one hand on his shoulder and allowing him to walk you to the edge of his bed and assist you onto it, watching you closely all the time.  After a few seconds of sitting again the dizziness recedes and you smile encouragingly up at Yoongi, not wanting him to worry him unnecessarily. It’s probably just the blood loss, after all.  “I’m fine, honestly.  I feel better already.”   He squints at you sceptically, his tongue poking at the inside of his mouth. 

“When was the last time you ate anything?”   You open your mouth to reply but quickly shut it again, blushing when you realise that it’s got to have been a good 36 hours ago, at least.  Yoongi sighs disapprovingly.

“You, stay here.  I’ll go and fetch you something.”  He starts to walk out towards the exit and you sit up again, making to swing your legs out of bed, protesting. 

“You don’t have to do that-“

“I said stay.”  You adopt a faux sulky expression, leaning back against his pillows with your arms folded, but your indignation only makes Yoongi smile.  “Good girl,” he praises, flashing you a sly wink on his way out of the door that actually makes your pulse start to race a little.  You definitely, definitely need to get your hormones under control, and sometime soon. 

Yoongi isn’t gone for long, but by the time he gets back with a bowl of steaming hot rice and ribs and a drink in his hands you’ve managed to turn the TV on and you’re sat back against his headboard watching it, a pillow held across your stomach. 

“Eat,” he tells you firmly, passing you the bowl.  You turn the pillow over and rest the bowl on it so as not to burn your legs, inhaling the aroma of sweet barbeque sauce, your mouth immediately beginning to water.  You clearly didn’t realise how hungry you were, but now food is sat right in front of you you’re absolutely famished.  “Jin sends his regards.”  Yoongi flops down on the bed next to you making the mattress bounce and you look over to him with a forkful already halfway towards your mouth. 

“Did they ask about me?” 

“I told them you weren’t feeling well.” 

“Thank you.”  You post a big forkful of rice into your mouth, as thankful as ever that Yoongi just seems to get you. 

Some strange, outer-space sci-fi film keeps you occupied as you eat, taking your time to savour every bite as Yoongi sits quietly next to you, slouching down in bed.  The ribs are sticky and delicious, and by the time you’re done you have to lick the remaining sauce off of your fingers to save getting it all over the sheets.  

“All done?”  Yoongi asks, making you jump.  You’d gotten so caught up in the film that you’d almost forgotten he was there next to you, and you turn to look at him, still sucking sauce off your thumb/

“Mmhm.”  You lick the remainder off, acutely aware of the way Yoongi’s eyes are fixated on your mouth.  You swallow nervously, as you remove your thumb,  giving him a small smile.  He leans toward you and you automatically hold your breath, your eyes opening wide, but all he does is take the bowl from your lap and move it onto the floor, trying and failing to hold back a smirk.  Ok, so maybe the sexual tension isn’t really gone just yet. 

“It’s almost morning,” he comments as he comes to lie back down, folding his hands on top of his stomach and looking up at you from underneath his fringe.  Man, just how long were you wallowing in Jimin’s room for?  You can only have been here with Yoongi for what, two hours tops?  You are tired, though, both physically and emotionally.  “Are you tired?”

“Really tired,” you admit.  Perhaps some sleep might help you feel less dizzy when you wake up too.  All round it seems like a really good idea. 

“You can stay here, if you want.”  He says it innocently enough, but the thought of sharing a bed with him makes you a little nervous.  Still, it’s preferable to going back to Jimin’s room, where apparently you’re not welcome to sleep at all.  “I can get you something to wear.”  Yoongi gets up from bed and walks over to his mahogany wooded closet to fetch you something, presumably. 

“I have my own things…” you start, but then you remember what all of those outfits actually look like.  You may as well be asking for trouble getting into bed with him wearing one of those, so when he walks back over to the bed with an oversized t-shirt and a pair of shorts in hand you take them with a grateful smile. 

“The bathroom’s just through there.”  He gestures to the door just off to your left and then hesitates, his eyes narrowing.  “Do you need help?”

“I’m sure I can take myself to the toilet, Yoongi,” you grin, shuffling yourself to the edge of the bed and sincerely hoping that you actually can.  It’d be a tad embarrassing to fall flat on your face now.  Thankfully you’re not nearly so dizzy when you get up this time, able to walk yourself into Yoongi’s small but clean bathroom and get changed without any further incidents.

By the time you return you’re definitely ready for bed, shuffling back into Yoongi’s room with a yawn, your dress held to your chest.  Yoongi is so slim but all his clothes are baggy and oversized, so the clothes he gave you are practically hanging off your frame.  They’re comfortable, though, far more comfortable than the dress you leave neatly folded on the piano stool.  

You turn, intending to head back to bed but coming to an abrupt stop when your eyes land on Yoongi.  He’s sat up in bed with the covers pulled over his lap, head leant back against the headboard, eyes closed, earphone wires trailing down his shirtless chest.  With the sheets hiding whatever he’s wearing on his lower half he looks completely naked, and it leaves your mouth suddenly dry as you look at him for just a little bit too long.  Somehow his skin is even paler than Jimin’s, the whitest of white, and though his chest and stomach don’t have the same kind of muscle definition, he still looks… really good.  Why does he have to be so tempting?  It makes you feel like banging your head against the wall in frustration.   Either that or crawling over there and –

“Do you need me to tuck you in?”  Yoongi asks, not opening his eyes but smiling to himself.  You blush, averting your eyes and scuttling into bed without saying a word.  How on earth does he do that?  When you pull the covers back you’re relieved to see that he is indeed wearing sweatpants and as you climb in he opens one eye to peep at you.  He watches you fondly as you fidget around getting comfortable, finally settling lying on your side looking up at him, a safe amount of space left between you.  He closes his eye again, sighing, his chest rising and falling heavily.

“Thank you for letting me stay,” you say after a moment, unsure that he’ll hear you over the Korean pop music you can hear thudding into his ears, but he does.  Both his eyes pop open this time, a small, kind smile fleeting across his face at your thanks.   

“You’re welcome any time you like, gongjunim.”  Yoongi places his hand on top of your of head, stroking your hair as he speaks. 

“What’s that mean?” you ask through a yawn, his gentle ministrations making you feel all the more sleepy, your eyelids starting to droop.

“It means princess, princess,” he replies softly, removing his hand from you and placing it back into his lap with a final smile.  “Get some rest.”

It only takes you a couple of minutes to fall asleep, and as you do it’s to the image of Yoongi lost in his own world, eyes closed, mouthing along to the music that he so loves. 

 

“Hmm…Yoongi?”  You rub your eyes sleepily, calling after your bed-mate, your voice croaky.   You were obviously woken by something but now you’re not entirely sure what, still half asleep as you grope for the drink that rests Yoongi’s bedside table.  Your throat feels sorer now than it was before you went to bed, and even the water he brought you earlier doesn’t really make it feel any better as it slides down, though it does help to wake you up a little. 

You look to your side, confused when you see that Yoongi is no longer next to you.  He’s nowhere else in the room either, but you’re sure that you haven’t been asleep for that long.  Glancing to the clock you see it’s only been 3 hours at most, and you’re fully aware of just how much Yoongi likes his sleep.  He wouldn’t have gotten up yet through choice. 

Suddenly you hear voices from the other side of his door, voices speaking brisk Korean words in sharp, hushed tones, and even though you can’t understand what they’re saying it doesn’t take a genius to figure out that they’re arguing.  You listen harder, quickly realising that the two opposing sides belong to Yoongi and Jimin.  Sitting up hastily you lean forward so as to hear better, wishing over and over again that you knew any Korean at all.  At least Jimin’s growl is unmistakable, as is Yoongi’s weary sigh, and after several more minutes of heated exchange in which Yoongi has the last word, they finally fall silent.  Just a second later he comes back into the room, shutting the door softly behind him.  He’s obviously intending to avoid waking you, that is until he sees you sat in bed waiting with wide, worried eyes.   

“Get back to sleep, gongjumin,” he tells you, un-phased by your questioning look and returning to bed, climbing in next to you.  You don’t miss his continuing use of the Korean endearment, but right now you’re too distracted to let it make you blush like before. 

“Was that Jimin?”  He lies down flat on his back and sighs, hands folded across his chest, staring at the ceiling.

“Yes.”  You pause nervously, picking at your fingernails.

“… Was he angry?”  Yoongi turns his head to the side to look at you.

“Yes.”  You were anxious before but now it’s doubly so, worrying about what Yoongi said, about what Jimin said, about what Jimin will have to say when you wake up later tonight.  That’s if you can get back to sleep at all, which right now you doubt.  Yoongi says your name softly, calling your attention.  “Lie down.”

Forcing yourself to cease your nervous fidgeting, you do as Yoongi says and lie down on your side to face him, hands stuffed under the pillow so you’re not tempted to mess with them.  Yoongi does the same, his sleepy eyes even smaller than usual and the skin underneath them slightly puffy. 

“What did he say?”

“He’s pissed off that you’re here.  Telling him what a fucking jerk he’s been didn’t help things either.”  You’re worried about Jimin being angry, but you still can’t help but snort a laugh at the idea of Yoongi being so wonderfully blunt with him, as always, and Yoongi grins back at you adorably.  That smile soon fades as he sees you begin to stress again, chewing on the inside of your mouth.  “He wanted to see you.” 

“What did you tell him?” 

“I told him he didn’t deserve to,” he answers without hesitation. 

“Yoongi…” you scold gently.  You know he’s only looking out for you and you still end up smiling at him fondly across the pillows, comforted knowing that he has your back. 

“You can sort things out later, if that’s what you want to do.”  From the look that passes over his face and the way he avoids your eyes as he says it, you get the feeling that that’s not what Yoongi really wants you to do, but still, he carries on speaking with little to no hesitation, “But for now stay.  Sleep.  Let him suffer for a while, it’ll do his Highness good.” 

You sigh, staring back into his eyes for a moment or two as you consider his words.  Even though your immediate reaction is the run to Jimin the second he calls, you know that what Yoongi’s saying makes sense.  Why would Jimin ever want to treat you better if you just go right on back at the snap of his fingers?  You’d be a glutton for punishment, acting that way. 

“You’re right.” 

“I’m always right.”  His expression is deadpan serious, but you know that he’s only teasing, rolling your eyes at him just before you roll over to face the other way, shuffling around to get comfortable.  You’re determined to get some more sleep, try to push Jimin out of your mind for just that little bit longer.  Yoongi’s right, it can all be dealt with when you wake up later on, when you’re less likely to be tired and over-emotional.  That won’t help anything. 

It’s hard though.  Not thinking about him is easier said than done, and ten minutes later you’re still fidgeting under the covers, huffing and sighing, unable to get comfortable. 

Stillness is soon forced upon you, though, when Yoongi slings his arm over your waist and pulls you back ward and towards him.  You squeak in surprise as your back hits his chest, falling into stunned silence when he curls his body around yours and presses a gentle kiss to you hair, squeezing you tightly in his arms.   You’re not sure what to do, unsure as to whether you should be stopping him or moving away, or whether you even want to.  It feels nice being cocooned by him and feeling the slow rise and fall of his chest, his breath against the back of your neck.  You don’t want him to stop, but you certainly don’t want to lead him on if he really does care about you. 

“Yoongi… you don’t have to-“

“I do,” he interrupts, “I can’t sleep with you flopping around like a fish.”  You bite your lip, wondering why the thought of him holding you for purely practical reasons feels disappointing.  He presses another lingering kiss against the smooth skin behind your ear, one that makes all the hairs on your arms stand to attention.   His next words are whispered so quietly you barely catch them, but you do, and they make your heart flutter.  “Just let me have this.” 

“Ok,” you whisper back.  You take his hand in yours and place a kiss against his open palm only to hear him sigh wistfully behind you.  “Sleep well, oppa.” 

 

“Ahh, Yoongi, we overslept!”  The alarm clock next to his bed tells you it’s almost midnight already.  The others have probably been awake for a good few hours, and Jimin must be getting suspicious about where you are, likely presuming you’re still with Yoongi.  He’s not wrong, after all.  He’s going to be so, so pissed. 

You sit up quickly, knocking off Yoongi’s arm off of you in the process of climbing out of bed and briefly wondering if he’d been wrapped around you the whole time you were sleeping.  It certainly looks as though he was.  He starts to wake during all your commotion, lifting his sleepy head from the pillow to squint up at you, his hair all of a disarray. 

“I need to go,” you tell him, collecting up your dress and quickly scanning the room to see if there’s anything else you’d be leaving behind, “Jimin will be wondering where I am.”  Yoongi pushes himself up to sit upright and runs a hand through his hair, a smirk creeping across his face. 

“He knows where you were.”

“I know, that’s what I’m afraid of,” you mutter.  You look back at each other as a moment of silence falls between you, stretching on for what feels like forever.  “Thank you, for everything.”  You hope your face conveys just how sincere you are.  You really are so grateful; you’re not sure how you would’ve gotten through these last 24 hours without his support.  He gives you a small smile, one that you wish you could ignore the hint of sadness in. 

He calls your name as you reach the bedroom door and you pause, looking back at him over your shoulder, one hand on the doorframe. 

“I meant what I said, last night,” he tells you, “I’ll be here, waiting, if you need me.”  You smile, but this time Yoongi doesn’t smile back.  He just watches you leave from his spot on the bed, his eyes burning with the same intensity that you’ve seen in them from the moment you walked through the very same door last night, and your chest aches as you leave him behind. 

He doesn’t just mean as a shoulder to cry on, you know that, and it leaves you feeling both excited and frightened in equal measure. 

Chapter Text

When you get back to Jimin’s room you’re thankful to find it empty, letting out a sigh of relief as you pushed the door closed behind you.  At least this way you’ve got a moment to collect your thoughts and think about what you’re going to say to him when he does reappear.  You want answers for the way he acted last night, to know if he meant those things awful things he said, and figure out what that means for you if he did.  You’d rather not hang around somewhere you’re not wanted… even if every fibre of your body tells you otherwise. 

For now you head towards the bathroom, figuring that getting out of these clothes would be a good start to whatever tonight might bring.  Showering always helps you clear your head and think, too, but before you can even reach for the door handle it suddenly swings open toward you.  You jump back, startled, to see Jimin stood in the doorway.  He’s topless, towel-drying his wet hair, and you curse yourself for the way your body betrays you, immediately feeling weak-kneed at the sight of him.  How does he do this to you?  You swallow hard as he passes you, turning on the spot to watch him go and frowning when you see the purple bruises that dust his ribs.

“You’re hurt,” you observe as Jimin discards his wet towel, throwing it onto the bed.  He twists, looking down at his ribs with a wry smile and then glances back to you. 

“It’s nothing.”  You ‘hm’ in response, not sure what else to say but quickly coming to detest the awkward silence that stretches out between the two of you.  You both just stand there, looking back at one another, unmoving and unspeaking. 

Finally it’s Jimin that speaks first. 

“You spent the night with Yoongi-hyung?”  he asks, addressing the elephant in the room.  He’s already looked you up and down and taken in what you’re wearing, the way his jaw tightening impossible not to notice, and when you roll your eyes his gaze darkens dangerously. 

“Some of it,” you reply, defensively folding your arms across your chest.

“Oh?”  He takes a step towards you, sneering, “Just how many different beds did you go hopping into?”  The accusation hiding in Jimin’s question really gets your blood boiling and roaring in your eyes, your temper starting to flare; a rare occurrence for you. 

“Well I figured, why not?  It’s not like I’m welcome in your bed, is it?” you snap back and Jimin’s eyes narrow, his chest heaving with the anger you know he’s holding back, biting his tongue inside his mouth.  You stare back at him defiantly, as if daring him to say more, but Jimin doesn’t take the bait.  He turns away from you, raking his fingers roughly through his hair, all the muscles of his back knotted tight.  He looks like he’s struggling with his temper, as are you, so as he’s pacing and huffing you try your best to take a few deep breaths and calm yourself down.  It won’t do any good having both of you as angry as each other. 

He eventually comes back to stand in front of you, taking a second to close his eyes and exhale heavily, letting his shoulders sag.  It reminds you of the way he had to calm himself when he was arguing with Namjoon, and it makes you sad that it’s come to this between you.  When he opens up his eyes again he looks much more collected.  Regretful, even. 

“I’m sorry,” he apologises, and you can tell that Jimin doesn’t find those words easy to say. “The way I spoke to you last night was… really harsh, and I’ve been feeling awful about it every second since.”  As if he’s expecting you to recoil from him Jimin cautiously reaches out and places a hand on each of your arms, squeezing gently. 

“… You really hurt me,” you whisper, looking down at the floor, trying to hold back the tears that are prickling in your eyes.  You don’t want to cry now, not when he’s trying to make it right, but just the fact that he’s being nice to you is getting you all choked up again. 

“I know.”  You’re glad Jimin’s acknowledging the pain he caused, and that he’s gracious enough to look truly sorry about it.  It still doesn’t explain why he acted like that in the first place, though, and you’re just about to questioning him when Jimin starts speaking again, releasing your arms.  “That’s why I got you something.”   Suddenly he’s smiling brightly; excited about whatever it is he has to show you.  You’d almost forgotten just how beautiful his smile is with everything that’s been happening between you two, so despite feeling a little frustrated about getting side-lined from the issue at hand you decide to let it go for now and watch Jimin curiously, wondering what he has in store.

He walks to the side of the bed that’s hidden from view and lifts a plastic box from the floor, placing it down on the bedsheets with great care.  You quickly realise it’s not just any box – it’s an animal carrier; you can tell by the grated door at the front. 

“Come see,” he encourages, beckoning you over, and as you approach, bending low to look inside, excitement starts to bubble in your stomach.  Kneeling down at the end of the bed you peer into the box, squinting.  At first you can’t see anything at all, but then you spot something move right at the back, and suddenly two wide, green eyes are peering back out at you in the darkness. 

“Oh!” you exclaim, your hands coming up to your mouth with surprise, eyes darting up to look at Jimin who’s watching you with glee, smiling so hard that he’s all teeth and cheeks and not much else.  “A cat?”  You feel yourself start to grin too, barely daring to believe your eyes.  “You got me a cat?”  He nods, leaning over to unlock the carrier door and open it wide. 

“I heard you telling Taehyung you’d like one.”  You almost falter for a moment, realising that if Jimin was awake to hear you say that then he must have been awake to witness the whole Taehyung-tickling-fiasco, but if it bothered him back then it certainly doesn’t look like it’s bothering him now.  “And I thought she could keep you company if I’m not around.” 

You don’t know what to say, overcome by how unexpectedly thoughtful he’s been, just gazing up at him with a stupid, goofy smile on your face.  He chuckles, patting the top of the box softly and bobbing his head toward it.  “Call her out then, she’s yours.” 

Yours?  She’s really, really yours?  You’ve always wanted a cat, but your parents never really liked pets and your apartment was always too small to get one yourself. 

“What’s her name?”  you ask, peering inside again.  She’s still watching you from the back of the carrier, her tail flicking nervously. 

“The woman at the shelter said they’d been calling her Nova.”

“Nova,” you repeat, trying it out, and you see her ears swivel at the sound of her name.  “Nova,” you call, your voice high and sweet, and when that doesn’t do the trick you start making kissy noises too, alternating between that and her name. 

“Try these,” Jimin suggests, shaking some fishy smelling treats from a packet into your hand.  She immediately looks more interested, starting to creep forward out of the box towards your open palm.  

“Come on Nova, good kitty,” you beckon, moving your hand further backward to lure her.   When she’s finally out Jimin removes the box from the bed and you let her catch up to your hand, keeping it very still as she takes the treats one by one.  She’s a gorgeous cat.  She’s black from head to toe, her fur shiny and sleek, and she’s so slinky and delicate that you wonder whether she might have some Siamese in her.  Once she’s done eating she sits back on her heels and starts to preen herself, looking surprisingly at home already. 

“She’s beautiful Jimin, thank you,” you smile, gingerly reaching out your hand and running it along her spine.  She flinches away from it initially, but with a little gentle persistence she soon becomes accustomed to you, going back about her business. 

“I’m glad you like her,” Jimin smiles back, coming to stand beside you.  Just as you’re stroking her, Jimin places his hand on your head and strokes your hair too.  “Come here, kitten,” he beckons, taking your hand and helping you to stand, so close to one another that your chests are touching.  As always, Jimin’s close proximity makes it a struggle for you to breathe, overwhelmed by his presence and the intensity of his gaze.  He takes a gentle hold of your chin.  “Am I forgiven?”  You’re not sure he is, but you can’t find your tongue to tell him so, your eyes flopping closed as he leans in to kiss you. 

When his lips don’t meet yours, halting just a breath away, you open up your eyes, wondering what’s made him stop.  He pulls back, letting going of your chin and stepping away from you, grimacing like he’s stepped in something unpleasant. 

“Jimin, what’s wrong?” you ask, anxiety sky-rocketing inside of you.  Not again… please… not again. 

“I can smell Yoongi-hyung all over you,” he replies, wrinkling his nose as he once again glares at what you’re wearing.  “Go shower and take off those clothes; my scent suits you far better.”  You must still be feeling a little irritable because hearing him speak about you that way – like you’re some piece of furniture that needs re-claiming – ends up riling you again, your skin prickling with annoyance.  Jimin seems oblivious to the way you’re frowning, however, bending down and starting to unpack the bags of various cat accessories he’s bought.  There’s a lovely blue velvet cat bed, a scratching post and lots of little toys; on strings, with feathers or stuffed with catnip to drive her crazy.  It’d be easy to let yourself get distracted – the idea of playing with Nova far more appealing than starting another fight – but you know you need to get to the bottom of what happened yesterday.

“Jimin?”  You call back his attention, looking up at you from where he’s crouched on the floor.  “We need to talk about yesterday.” 

“What’s there still to talk about?”  he asks, lifting his eyebrows, “I said I was sorry.”  He gets up, coming to stand near you, but you almost wish he wouldn’t.  Feeling brave was easier when you were taller and able to look down on him. 

“You can’t just buy me a cat and expect everything to magically be ok again,” you explain, trying to be reasonable, but it comes out sounding whinier than you would have liked.  Jimin sighs, pushing his hair back with exasperation and moistening his lips. 

“Ok.  Talk.”  He looks at you expectantly and you shift your weight from foot to foot, glancing down at the floor, suddenly nervous.  You’re not even sure what to start, really. 

“Lately, I’ve sort of been feeling like there’s… something… between us,” you begin, pausing to gauge Jimin’s reaction and sagging a little when there is none,  “Like with the other night in the garden, and when we...”  A blush rises on your cheeks as you gesture towards the bed where Nova is lying, curled up and fast asleep, and when you turn back to Jimin you see the tiniest of smirks creep across his face.  “It didn’t feel just a casual thing, not at all, not until yesterday.  I’m so confused, Jimin.  You’re hot and then you’re cold, you push me away and then you do the sweetest things.”  You sigh, looking up at him beseechingly from under your eyelashes, but Jimin seems to be doing all he can to avoid your gaze.  “I need to tell me how you feel … so that I can now how I should feel, too.” 

Jimin swallows as he wraps his arms around himself, looking pointedly away from you.  You’ve never seen him look like this before; so small and unsure, like a lost little boy.  You want to wrap him in your arms and kiss it all away, but you know that’ll never get you the answers you need.  It’s far too easy to get lost in him if you let yourself, and before now you’d always thought you’d be able to read how he feels through his actions alone, but that’s obviously not the case.  Right now only words will do, so you maintain your distance and wait for an answer. 

It doesn’t come, though, the seconds stretching into minutes before your patience finally wears thin.

“Do you even care about me at all?!” you ask sharply and with that Jimin’s head snaps back to face you, scowling hard. 

“Of course I do!” he growls, like you were stupid to even ask. 

“Then are you pushing me away?”  You step toward him, closing the small amount space left between you and placing your hands on his forearms.  “What are you so afraid of?”

“You!”  Jimin shouts, jerking away, turning on the spot and knotting his fingers through his hair. 

“Me?” you scoff.  Why the hell would a creature like Jimin be afraid of you? 

“Yes, you!”  His hands are still in his hair, his eyes wider than you’ve ever seen them before.  He looks wild, frantic, and when you look closer you’re shocked to see that he’s almost on the verge of tears, his eyes shining with moisture.  “I’m afraid of you being hurt, of hurting you, losing you, of-“ he hesitates, dropping his hands so his arms dangle limply at his sides, “-Of the way you’re making me feel.  I haven’t felt anything in so long… I’m scared what’ll happen if I let myself go.”   Jimin presses his lips together, turning his face to the floor with a slight shake of his head.  You’re dumbstruck, stood there rooted to the spot while your heart pounds in your chest, too stunned for words. 

So that’s why he acted like the way he did – he wasn’t intentionally trying to hurt you, he was just trying to protect himself, to keep himself from feeling vulnerable.  Your poor, sweet Jimin… he really is as soft as Yoongi said. 

“Jimin,” you whisper, aching with the need to touch him.  He looks up at you, a wet tear line trailing down each of his cheeks, his bottom lip practically trembling, and seeing him that way forces you into motion.  You throw yourself into his arms, clutching at his bare back and squeezing him in the tightest hug you possibly can.  “You’re not going to hurt me, Jimin,” you tell him fiercely, your words muffled by the kisses you’re placing on his chest over and over again. His arms come to rest around you too, holding you just as tight, his face pressed to the top of your head.  “And I will never, ever hurt you.  I promise.”  You feel Jimin’s chest swell with feeling against you as he presses a kiss to your hair, and you know that he’s listening, that he believes in what you’re saying.  You tilt your face upward to look at him, butterflies whirling in your stomach when your eyes meet and you see the sheer amount of emotion shining back at you. 

You want to tell him that you love him, the words lingering like a lump in your throat that you can’t push down, but it’s too soon.  You can’t risk scaring him away, not now, not when he’s opened himself up to you like this. 

“I’ve never felt this way about anyone,” you tell him honestly, holding his gaze and loving the little smile that lights up his face when he hears your words.  “This is scary for me too.”  Jimin’s hand comes up to cup caress your cheek, grazing his thumb along the angle of your cheekbone. 

“You don’t ever need to be scared of me,” he says in the softest, sweetest of voices, leaning down to rest his forehead against yours, and you know it’s true.  You know now that Jimin would never hurt you deliberately, be it physically or emotionally – you just wish you’d known so before.   Jimin brushes his pillow-y lips against yours chastely, curling his arm even tighter around your waist to keep you close as you melt against him.  You wish you could make him realise just how much he means to you.  When he stops kissing you and places his forehead back to yours you raise a hand to his face, gently wiping away the remnants of tears from each cheek and smiling up at him as you do. 

“I want you to know... I didn’t sleep with Yoongi.  I mean, we slept but not like that.” 

“You didn’t?”  Even though it didn’t necessarily need saying you’re immediately glad that you’ve told him, because the look of relief on Jimin’s face is heart-breakingly sweet.  Sticking with honestly, you nervously disclose the kiss to him too.

“But I stopped it,” you assure him, placing the flat of your palm against his chest, “I do care about Yoongi, and I know he cares about me too… but with you it’s… more.”  Jimin’s face had initially hardened when you’d mentioned the kiss, but the longer you talk the more you see him relax again, that little smile of his reappearing.  “There’s another thing I didn’t tell you, too.”  You bite your bottom lip as he cocks his head to the side curiously, waiting.  “You were my first.” 

Jimin’s eyebrows crease in confusion for a split second as he tries to work out what you mean, thinking so hard you can almost see the cogs in his head turning, but then they suddenly spring upwards again, his whole face opening up wide with surprise. 

“You were a virgin?”  You nod, biting your lip again to hold back the laugh that’s trying to escape.  He looks so adorable when he’s this shocked, his mouth still hanging open.  “The thought had crossed my mind but… but you did so well, I never thought…”  You blush at his praise, glancing down to the floor, so glad that your inexperience didn’t give you away, but when you look up you notice that his surprise has morphed into dismay.  “And the way I spoke to you afterwards, after your first time…” He trails off, his eyes looking off elsewhere as he becomes lost in thought.  He releases you and takes a step back, as if doesn’t deserve to touch you.  “God, I really am a fucking jerk.” 

“Jimin, it’s ok, really,” you tell him, attempting to soothe his conscience as Jimin drags a hand through his hair. 

“It’s not ok,” he disagrees, his eyes suddenly landing on you again, something urgent entering his expression as he says your name, stepping close to you again and taking both your hands in his.  “Let me make it up to you, kitten.”  He lifts your joined hands to his mouth and rains kisses down on them, dragging his teeth along your palms and making you shiver. “Let me make you feel good.”  You’re lost already, breathless as you agree with a nod of your head and a whispered,

“Ok.” 

Chapter Text

With a slow, seductive smile Jimin guides you toward the bathroom.  You’re more than happy to be led, smiling back shyly, but when you get to the door you pause, looking over your shoulder to the black cat that’s still sleeping at the end of the bed.

“What about Nova?”

“I was hoping we could do this without her,” Jimin jokes with a tilt of his head and you end up giggling, shrieking when he pulls you sharply into the bathroom behind him.  He gathers you up in his arms and kisses you tenderly, waiting for you to open up before slipping his tongue into your mouth to brush against yours.  Even from the way he’s kissing you can tell that Jimin’s making a measured effort to take things more gently this time, the way he would have done last time if he’d have known, and you’re infinitely grateful to him for it. 

He turns you in his arms, moving to linger behind you as you both stand in front of the bathroom mirror.  You watch his reflection plant kisses against your neck, tilting your head to the side to give him better access as he places his hands on your hips. 

“Do you know how pretty you are, kitten?”  he murmurs against your skin, looking up from to lock eyes with you in the mirror.  You shake your head and blush, turning your face away.  No, you don’t know.  You’ll never understand why someone like Jimin, who could have anyone he wanted, would want you.  “Look at yourself,” Jimin encourages gently and after a moment you do as he asks, looking at the wide-eye girl in the mirror staring back at you.  “Look at these lips.”  He pinches your bottom lip between his thumb and forefinger as he bites his own, and when he lets go it swells ruby red with blood.  Yoongi’s clothes are stripped from you next, Jimin pulling the t-shirt up and the shorts down to leave you naked and blushing at your reflection.  “Much better,” he purrs approvingly, his eyes roving over your naked skin. He takes a step toward you so his chest meets your back, the material of his sweatpants brushing against your behind.    

“Jimin,” you complain, trying to hide yourself with your arms self-consciously.  He tuts, taking hold of your wrists and pulling your arms upward and backward to hook around his neck.  It’s not exactly a comfortable position but it does wonders for your figure, elongating your torso and pushing out your breasts. 

“See?”  he whispers in your ear, his tongue darting out to flick against the lobe, “See these curves?”  Jimin trails his fingertips down your side from your armpit to your hip and it tickles so badly that all your muscles contract as you giggle, screwing up your eyes and squirming.  “I love seeing you smile.”  When you look again Jimin’s smiling beside you too, his fingers splaying out across your hips as he gazes at your reflection. 

You have to admit, there is something about the way you look right now.   Perhaps it’s arousal, or maybe it’s just happiness, but whatever it is, it suits you.  For once you think you look like a real woman, maybe even an attractive woman, and apparently Jimin agrees.  He seems to have forgotten all about your reflection and is too busy worshipping your neck with his mouth, kitten-licking wet trails across your skin and then blowing on them, grinning at the way you shiver against him.   His hand that was resting on your hip starts to trail further down, towards the wetness gathering between your legs, your breath quickening with every centimetre that he inches closer and you widen your stance slightly, eager to grant him access, knowing just how good his fingers can make you feel. 

“Jimin,” you huff, threading your fingers into the back of his hair and pushing your behind against him.  He’s being agonisingly slow and the ache in your belly is quickly becoming unbearable.  “Please.” 

“Hmm…” Jimin groans, his fingertips dancing along your public bone, “I love it when you beg.”  For one excruciating moment you think he’s going to keep drawing this out to relish in your neediness, but then he presses a soft kiss to your cheek and nuzzles his nose against your hair.  “But it’s me who should be begging for forgiveness tonight, isn’t it?”   

“Yes,” you reply shakily, bowing your back to press against him again, his clothed erection digging into the soft flesh of your buttocks.  “Show me.  Show me how sorry you are.”  Jimin growls against your shoulder, his resolve faltering as he finally sinks his hand between your legs and slides two fingers straight inside.  You gasp, back bowing involuntarily this time, tugging on Jimin’s hair as he starts to pump his fingers in and out of you.  The stretch burns but it feels so good, your breath hitching in your throat every time the heel of his hand meets your clitoris. 

“No wonder this pussy’s so tight for me,” he pants against your hair, breathing hard.  You twist your head, searching for his lips and moaning when Jimin shoves his tongue straight inside, hungry for you.  All of the emotional turmoil over the last 24 hours and all of the sexual tension between you and Yoongi has left you especially responsive to Jimin’s touch, and no more than a couple of minutes into it your orgasm comes so quickly that it takes you both by surprise.  You cry out, knees buckling and clutching onto Jimin to keep from falling as he kisses you again.

“Can I fuck you, kitten?  Can I?”  he asks urgently, words muffled on your mouth, already tugging down his sweatpants before you’ve even had chance to answer.   He pushes on the small of your back to bend you forward, your elbows meeting the bathroom counter as he coats his cock with the juices of your orgasm, his eyes fixated on your pussy.  “I need you, fuck.” 

You’ve never seen him look like this before; he’s frantic, desperate, biting on his bottom lip so hard that it should bleed, his muscles practically vibrating with all the pent up energy he’s holding back.  It makes you feel powerful, knowing how badly he wants you, and you shoot him a cocky smile in the bathroom mirror that makes him groan wantonly, grabbing at your ass so savagely you’re expecting bruises.  “Can I?” he repeats again, his wide, dark eyes looking back at you almost pleadingly.  He places the tip of his cock against your entrance, pausing there, licking his lips, but instead of giving him a verbal reply you go one better and answer him by sinking yourself back onto it with a long, loud moan.

“God, Jimin,” you pant, your head flopping forward, swivelling your hips back against him.  “Jimin, move.” 

“Fuck, yes,” he breathes, grabbing onto your hipbones and pulling himself out almost completely, only to slam back in second later, thrusting so deep that the head of his cock smacks against your cervix. Your whole body jolts forward, your stomach hitting the counter as you try to brace yourself against the pounding rhythm he sets, crying out with every snap of his hips.  “You feel so good around my cock.” 

Jimin fucks into you relentlessly, his pace never slowing even as his breathing becomes ragged and you feel sweat drip from his chest onto your back.  Your hands are desperately searching for something to hold onto, nails scratching against the stone countertop, finally finding the edge of the sink to grab onto for support, and once you’re somewhat stable you make the mistake of opening your eyes, only to come face to face with your own reflection. 

You don’t recognise the woman staring back at you.  She has lust-darkened eyes, heavily flushed cheeks and lips that are swollen from the way she’s biting down on them.  You don’t recognise the noises she’s making, either; the mewling, the whimpering, the swearing under her breath.  When did you suddenly become this carnal, sexual being?  You’d never for one moment thought you’d do things like this before you met Jimin, never mind enjoy them.  And oh, you don’t just enjoy it, you love it. 

“Am I forgiven yet, kitten?” Jimin pants, leaning his whole body over your to plant wet, messy kisses over the back of your neck, still pushing into you from behind. 

“M-make me cum again and you will be,” you stutter back, lifting your head up to flash him a grin.  He smirks back at you from over your shoulder, sticking his tongue out tantalisingly.  God, he’s so sexy.  You don’t get long to look at him though, not when he starts pounding into you even harder than before.  You gasp, pushing back against him, feeling your orgasm build with every thrust of his hips. 

“Come on, c’mon,” Jimin encourages through gritted teeth as he feels you start to tighten around him, knowing you’re close, “Cum on my cock.” 

“Jimin!”  you cry out, caught on the precipice, willing yourself over the edge,  “Jimin, please, please…”  If you don’t cum in a second you feel as though you might implode, or burst into tears.  You let go of the sink, sticking one hand between your legs and rubbing your clitoris, Jimin’s cock sliding past your fingertips on its way inside you. 

“Jesus,” Jimin groans when he realises what you’re doing, “I’m gonna cum.  You’re so hot, fuck, kitten, I’m gonna-“   He can no longer finish what he’s saying, pushed over the edge by the sight of you pleasuring yourself and the animalistic sounds you’re making.  His cock goes rock hard inside you as he starts to spill his release, throwing his head back, grabbing onto your hips, groaning louder than you’ve ever heard him before.  Watching his face contort with ecstasy, seeing his jaw slacken with pleasure; it’s the most breath-taking thing you’ve ever seen.  It finally pushes you over the brink, spearing yourself backward onto his now softening cock, practically sobbing with pleasure as you come down. 

Jimin’s so gentle with you as you recover, slumped over with your face pressed to the cold counter-top.   He shifts your hair off of your shoulders and plants kisses along the skin he’s exposed, keeping his body pressed closed to yours.  If he were human you presume it’d be unbearably warm, having him leant over you like this, but as it is, Jimin’s a very welcome cold compress against your back, one that’s slowly tickling your side and smiling as you start to giggle again. 

“Is it always this… exhausting?”  you ask breathlessly, pushing yourself up onto your elbows and plonking your chin in your hands, grinning. 

“I hope so,” Jimin smiles back cheekily, pressing one more kiss to your shoulder before finally sliding out of you.  Your whole body is aching again as you straighten up, and you can’t help but wonder whether you’ll always ache just this much too.  It was worth it though.  Most definitely. 

Jimin walks over to the shower, still gorgeously naked, and for the first time you get to really appreciate just how stunning his bare form is.  He isn’t the tallest, and he certainly doesn’t have the broadest of shoulders, but his back and tapered waist still manage to form that desirable inverted ‘V.  His legs are short but strong, thick muscle lining his calves and thighs, and as he reaches upward to turn on the shower you notice the curve of his biceps too.  You end up biting your lip as your eyes come to rest on his behind; you’ve never seen a guy with a bottom like it.  It’s so pert and thick and round, and you’re suddenly filled with the strangest urge to sink your teeth into it. 

“Come on,” Jimin beckons, extending his hand to you, one foot already in the shower cubicle, “I’m not done making it up to you yet.”  You follow after him obediently, threading your fingers between his and letting him pull you close under the water.  You’re relishing in how affectionate he’s being, half expecting to wake up any minute now alone on your chaise lounge, but with every kiss he gives to you it feels more and more real. 

The warm water flowing over your body feels nice, but Jimin’s gentle caressing feels far nicer. 

“Your hair’s getting wet again,” you smile when he pulls away, damp pieces of fringe falling into his eyes.  “Looks good.” 

“Is that so?” he smiles back, cocking an eyebrow at you.  You nod, taking hold of a piece and flicking it backward playfully, and you’re just about to start kissing him again when you feel the evidence of Jimin’s orgasm starting to slide down the inside of your thighs.  You start to blush, pressing your legs together, hoping he won’t notice before the water can quickly wash it away.   Unfortunately for you, Jimin notices your blush.  “What’s wrong?”  You chuckle nervously. 

“No one ever told me how… messy sex was.”  Jimin glances down, and although you’re sure he can’t see you’re sure he’s immediately gotten the gist of what you mean because he laughs and presses his finger against the tip of your nose. 

“Why don’t you open those legs,” he suggests enticingly, running that fingertip along the bridge of your nose, his tongue sliding out to moisten his bottom lip, “And I’ll help you clean up.”  Your eyes widen, gawping at him.  Surely he can’t mean…?

“Again?” you ask disbelievingly.  A cheeky smile spreads across his face as his hands snake down from your hips and onto your thighs, applying gentle pressure to encourage them apart. 

“You don’t want me to?”   You hesitate, starting to blush even harder as Jimin gets onto his knees at your feet, water pouring over his shoulders and dripping down his back.

“I didn’t say that…” you mumble back shyly, slowly opening your legs for him.  The moment you do Jimin dives in, making sure to flash you a roguish wink before he does.  His mouth immediately attaches to your core, morphing your giggle into a stilted moan. “A-ah!”  Your hands immediately fly out against the shower tiles, trying in vain to get a grip on the slippery surface as your knees once again threaten to give way.  

His tongue laps amongst your folds, licking up yours and his juices alike while his short nails dig into the malleable flesh of your thighs.  You’re so ridiculously oversensitive after having two orgasms already that you can’t quite make out whether you want to push him off or pull him in, your engorged clit provided a perfect target for Jimin to lave his tongue against.  It feels amazing.  So amazing, in fact, that you forget you’re in the shower and tilt your head back only to receive a face full of water that leaves you coughing and spluttering, somewhat ruining the moment. 

“Are you alright up there?”  Jimin asks from below, barely containing his laughter. 

“I’m… fine,” you reply, feeling slightly mortified, “Just… carry on.”   Jimin tuts, pinching the inside of your thigh and making you yelp. 

“Manners, kitten,” he lectures you.  The set of his mouth is stern but his eyes are still twinkling playfully so you smile back coyly, biting your lip.

“Please.”   Thankfully Jimin carries on right where he left off once you act contritely, returning his attention to your clitoris. He sucks it lightly, knowing that you’re bordering on overstimulation as it is and mercifully giving you only as much as you can handle and when you twist your fingers through his wet tangles of hair Jimin hums into you, the vibration making you mewl in pleasure. 

He slowly and skilfully works you towards another orgasm, knowing just when to hold back or give you more, led by the pitch and urgency of your moans until you’re shouting out his name for the third time today.  You dig your fingernails into his scalp, Jimin supporting your weight as your knees finally do give out, and when that white hot flash of pleasure starts to ebb away into a pleasant hum of satisfaction he lets you sink onto the floor of the shower next to him, totally and utterly spent. 

“Thank you,” you sigh, leaning forward and resting your forehead on Jimin’s wet shoulder as soon as he’s sat cross-legged opposite you, your eyes blissfully closed.  “You’re definitely, definitely forgiven.”  He chuckles softly, stroking the back of your hair. 

“You’re welcome.”  Jimin says no more but after a moment you feel him start to rub something across your back.  It’s a washcloth, lathered in his lemon scented shower-cream. 

“Jimin, you don’t have to.”  You sit up, trying to take the cloth from him as he rubs it across the top of your chest.  He gives you a firm look and your hand immediately drops, letting him wash you as he seems to want to do.  It’s a little embarrassing at first, having him look at you so closely without lust clouding his gaze, but you soon learn to enjoy it, closing your eyes again and just enjoying the softness of the washcloth and the tenderness of his touch. 

When he’s done Jimin stands and turns off the shower, then offers you his hand to help you up, pulling you into his arms and kissing you once more.  His lips are saturated with the taste of you, but it’s not unpleasant.  In fact, when the kiss ends Jimin is licking his lips again, as if he’s savouring it.  He fetches a towel for the both of you, wrapping you up like a fluffy sausage roll as you smile gratefully back at him and then tucking the other around his waist. 

Honestly, if you thought you loved him before it’s nothing compared to how you’re feeling now as you waddle after him, back into his bedroom.  You’d never thought for a second that Jimin could be like this; so caring and so sweet.  You can’t believe how lucky are you to be here with him, to be treated like this.  He hasn’t even asked for your blood, and you’d kind of thought that was a given. 

Nova is still dosing on Jimin’s bed when you re-enter the room, and she’s not too impressed when he disturbs her, lifting her up and taking her over to the litter tray he’d already set up in the far end of the room.  She uses it, though, so you’re glad he moved her there rather than her have an accident on the bed.  Jimin starts to get dressed, occasionally glancing over at you with a soft smile on his face, and you know you should too, but right now you can’t get past the giddy happiness you’re feeling.  You’re stood with your arms wrapped around yourself, trying not to dance as you grin like a loon.

“Come on, we should go and introduce Nova to the others,” Jimin encourages, already wearing a loose v-necked t-shirt and shorts himself.  He walks over to your drawers, probably intending to fetch you another dress - as usual.   

“Is it ok if we just stay here tonight, just us?”  you ask sheepishly. You know it’s selfish to want him all to yourself, but you can’t bear to part with all this lavish attention just yet.  Not if you don’t have to.  “And Nova,” you add with a smile. 

“You want me all to yourself, hm?” he smirks back.

“Something like that.”  Jimin pauses, glancing down into your top drawer and then pushing it closed again.  “Would you… do you want to wear my clothes?”  he asks, suddenly bashful.  Seeing you in Yoongi’s outfit has obviously stuck in his mind, and you know it’s sort of petty of him for only offering now, because of that, but somehow you still end up finding it sweet. 

“Yes please,” you nod and Jimin beams, his eyes disappearing above his cheeks, quickly going over to his closet and fetching you a comfortable looking hoodie and pair of sweats.  They smell like him when you pull them on, and once fully dressed Jimin seems to nod to himself in satisfaction. 

As you walk towards Jimin’s bed, planning on getting comfortable for a night of TV and talking – and hopefully cuddling – Nova is winding her way around your ankles.  She’s surprisingly friendly for a shelter cat, but then you always have gotten along with animals, and when you pick her up and plonk her on the bed with a couple of toys she’s more than happy to go along with it.  You notice the sagginess of her stomach as you let her go; she must have had kittens at some point. 

Suddenly you feel all the colour drain from your face, dread trickling cold down your spine.  How could you be so stupid?

“Jimin,” you say slowly, turning to him from where you’re perched on the edge of the bed.  He’s already lying down, relaxing, not a care in the world, only starting to frown when he sees the absolutely look of horror on your face.  “… I’m not on birth control.”   Jimin blinks, his expression blank, but then he starts laughing, shaking his head and sitting forward to press a kiss against your forehead. 

“It’s a good job I’m dead, then, isn’t it?” 

“Oh my god,” you exhale, starting to laugh too, clutching your chest where your heart is pounding hard, “Oh my god I was so scared for a second then.” 

“Not very responsible of you, kitten,” Jimin chastises playfully, lying back down and pulling you with him to lie against his side, your head on his chest, Nova chewing on a toy down by your feet.  “You should be more careful.”

“I wasn’t exactly planning on getting laid when I moved in,” you scoff, quickly realising that that’s a total lie, “Well, I was hoping to, but not holding my breath.”  Jimin’s chest starts bouncing with laughter again and you tilt your head up to look at him, a big smile on your face, resting your arm across his waist and squeezing.  He squeezes you back, falling silent.  “Hey,” you say after a moment, twisting to look at him properly, “If you’re calling me kitten, and you don’t like Jagiya… what can I call you?” 

“Hmm…” he considers, catching his bottom lip between your teeth as he thinks, staring down at you with those gorgeous eyes of his.  The corner of his mouth twitches.  “Well…”  What started as a twitch soon turns into a wide, fanged, salacious, smile, “You could call me daddy.” 

Chapter Text

The rest of that evening passes by in a blissful blur.  You and Jimin don’t necessarily talk non-stop, but your silence is back to being comfortable – and who needs to talk when you can just lie there in his arms anyway?  Jimin remains wonderfully affectionate for the rest of the night, only leaving your side to fetch you food and play with Nova.  The way he interacts with her is adorable, and you end up wondering whether he’d really gotten her for just your benefit, or whether you’d actually provided him with a very convenient excuse.  You don’t mind, anyway.  Watching Jimin boop his nose against hers with a big smile on his face is more than enough of a reward. 

When you fall asleep the next morning it’s with the TV still playing in the background; Jimin drifts off before you and you just can’t bring yourself to risk waking him to find the remote and turn it off.  You definitely would wake him, too, what with his arms him holding you so tightly, your head leant on his chest.  It’s not like they can’t afford the electric bill anyway so you just let yourself fall asleep there, Nova dozing curled up in her plush bed too. 

Jimin’s already out of bed before you when dusk falls later that day, fully dressed when he wakes you up with a gentle stroke of your hair.  Although you were so keen to spend time with just Jimin last night, you’re eager to see the others now.  Three days seems like a long time to not see the people you share a house with, especially people you like so much.  You wash your hair and dress yourself briskly, wondering whether Yoongi will be around too.  It’s him that you especially want to see, partly because you so enjoy his company, but also because you want to check that everything’s ok between you two. 

He must have figured out that you and Jimin made up, what with you not coming crying to his door again, and now you stop and think about it you feel sort of guilty for the way you behaved with him, and not for the reasons you should.  You feel bad for indulging whatever feelings Yoongi has for you when you’re already so caught up in Jimin.  The last thing you want to do is lead him on and make him miserable by condemning him to a life of wanting something he can’t have.

But then maybe you’re just giving yourself far too much credit.  Having one gorgeous man interested in you is miraculous enough, nevermind a second one vying for your affections as well.  Yoongi probably won’t even be bothered, and things will just go back to the way they were before.

... why does the idea of that make you feel sort of sad?

Jimin says your name, startling you from your reverie as he places his hand in the small of your back, too. 

“Go on ahead, I need to speak to Namjoon.” The very name fills your stomach with dread, like you've swallowed a heavy stone.  Jimin notices your change of expression and flashes you a quick smile.  “It's nothing to worry about.” 

“Ok.”  He places a quick kiss to your forehead, scratching Nova’s head too before he starts to ascend the stairs two at a time, leaving you stood in the entrance hall, cat in arms, hoping that he won’t come back with a black eye this time.

You make your way into the living room, expecting to find everyone in there and feeling puzzled when it sits quiet and empty, but you soon realise where they are once a cheer comes from the next room.  Pushing the dining room door open with your hip you smile as you see them all.  The dining room is huge, with plush red carpets and wood panelled walls, an extravagant chandelier dangling from the middle of the ceiling.  The room isn’t used for eating, though, not even close – the dining table is pushed against the far wall and gathering dust.

Instead, they’ve turned it into a games room.   It’s such a big space that they’ve managed to install a basketball hoop at one end and still leave room for a ping-pong table and a pool table stood side by side, and it’s the ping-pong table where four of them are now locked in an intense doubles match that’s clearly getting out of hand. 

Jungkook is shouting something in Korean, waving his paddle around in frustration, and by the way he’s jabbing his finger against the lines on the table you could guess that they’re arguing about whether the last shot was in or out.  It's the loudest you've ever seen him be, save when he was shrieking with laughter.  It’s Jin that’s arguing back, a hand on his hip and a stubborn expression on his face, clearly getting annoyed by someone he considers so junior questioning his judgement.  Hoseok's just grinning, watching the chaos unfold before him while Taehyung’s doing a little victory dance, waving his arms above his head, oblivious to the fact his point may not have even been awarded.

“Yoongi-ah, was it in, or out?” Jin huffs, exasperated, turning around and deferring judgement to the only one of them who isn’t playing.  He’s sat by the side of them in an armchair, staring down at his phone, but when Jin addresses him he looks up with a deadpan face and answers,

“I don’t care.”  You snort with laughter at his reply, in love with his dry sense of humour and continuing to be amused by the way Jin curses in Korean and slams his paddle down, admitting defeat as Jungkook and Taehyung start to cheer.  A slow, easy smile spreads across Yoongi's face, amused at the mischief he’s caused, but the sound of your soft laughter catches his attention, his head turning to look at you lingering in the doorway, that smile turning into something softer that reaches his eyes. 

A beat passes where you just look at each other, a fond smile growing on you too until Nova starts to struggle in your arms, becoming frustrated at being held for such a length of time. 

“Oh, Nova, careful!” you panic as she jumps from your arms and onto the floor.  You needn’t worry though, because of course she lands on her feet.  The rest of the group are alerted to your presence, all turning to you in almost perfect sync.

“Long time no see, stranger!” Hoseok smiles, while Jin waves his paddle at you in greeting from behind.  Taehyung and Jungkook barely seem to have noticed you, however, their attention falling straight on Nova.  Taehyung is already on all fours on the floor, crawling over to her slowly with a stupidly happy grin on his face. 

“Where did she come from?!” he questions, edging ever closer as Nova eyes him suspiciously from where she’s now sat under the table.

“Jimin got her for me,” you reply, casting a glance Yoongi’s way.  His face remains pretty impassive, for the most part. 

“There you go, Tae-ah.  Turn yourself into a pretty girl and you can have all the pets you want,” Hoseok jokes, the others around the ping-pong table sniggering as his expense. 

“Here kitty, kitty, kitty,” Taehyung beckons, paying them no notice as he lowers his body even further to the ground, creeping forward.  He extends his hand toward her, probably a little too quickly and Nova darts, running across the room.  She comes to Yoongi's feet and then gracefully jumps up, plonking herself on his lap without even so much as an invite.  Taehyung groans his rejection.

“You scared her, Hyung!” Jungkook scolds, tutting, tossing his paddle to and fro in his hands.  Yoongi's looking down at the animal with what you'd guess is feigned disdain, his nose wrinkled. 

“I don’t want you, furball,” he mutters, even as his fingers find their way into her fur to stroke her. 

“Don’t take it to heart, Tae.  She’s still a little skittish,” you tell him, smiling sympathetically at his crestfallen face.  She hasn’t been that nervous at all, actually, but you'd rather tell a little white lie and save him the disappointment.

“She probably just likes Yoongi-Hyung because she knows he doesn’t move,” Hoseok scoffs, and even though you don’t mean to laugh a little giggle still comes out.  Yoongi sends him a withering look across the room, tickling Nova roughly under her chin whille Taehyung picks himself up off the floor, slumping dejectedly back to the ping-pong table.  As you make your way across to Yoongi they start playing again, though not until after Jungkook goads them into it.  He’s so mouthy when he gets competitive, and it’s positively adorable. 

You flop into the armchair next to Yoongi’s, resting your elbow on the arm and your chin on your palm, peering over at Nova who’s now stretched out on her back and purring for all she’s worth.  You hope Taehyung doesn’t see. 

“Hi,” you greet softly.  It’s a simple enough greeting, but your tone conveys so much more; are you ok? Are we ok? 

“Hey.” He gives you a small smile that doesn’t quite meet his eyes. “I guess you guys made up?”

“Yeah." You keep your reply short, not really wanting to go into details.  It’s safe to assume that Yoongi won’t really want to know how exactly Jimin made it up to you. 

“Good,” he nods, looking down at Nova in his lap.  You’re not sure he really means that, but it’s nice of him to pretend, you suppose.  You lapse into silence for a minute or so, eventually sighing when it seems like Yoongi isn’t going to say anymore, turning your head to watch the game instead.  “I missed you coming to play piano last night.”  When you look back round Yoongi is staring intensely back at you, and as he glances down to your lips you know he’s remembering the same thing you are; the two of you sat side by side on the piano stool, Yoongi’s hands cupping your face, his lips pressed against yours.

“Did you still want me to?” you ask cautiously, trying to ignore the blush you know is colouring your cheeks. 

“Of course.”  He doesn’t hesitate at all before he replies, a teasing smile appearing on his face. “You still suck." 

“Shut up,” you chuckle, feigning annoyance.  He just takes it, shrugging his shoulders.

“Do you still want to?” he checks, expression turning so unsure that it’s sweet.

“Of course.”  The quickness of your answer surprises the both of you, Yoongi’s eyes brightening with happiness.  It’s true though – you don’t want to stop spending time with him because of what happened... You just need to be more careful that it doesn’t happen again.  Although that might be easier said than done if Yoongi won’t stop looking at you the way he is right now; like there’s no-one else in the room. 

“Aish!  You’re such a cheater!”  Your attention is pulled back to Taehyung who’s brandishing his paddle in Hoseok’s direction as the other just laughs, unaffected by the blonde’s searing scowl.  You’d thought these guys were competitive playing video games, but it seems like they’re even worse when it comes to this.  At this rate you feel like you might end up needing to step in and break them up – easier said than done when it comes to two squabbling vampires.

“That colour looks good on you.”  You jump when Yoongi speaks again, alarmed that he’s leant in so close that you feel his breath on your ear.  You’re fairly certain that you’re turning the same shade of red as your dress, crossing one leg over the other as you swallow nervously.  It was the wrong thing to do, because now he’s looking at your legs, eyes drifting up from your ankles to where the hem of your dress skirts your thighs, and your pulse is starting to quicken. 

“Watch out!”

A rogue ping-pong ball comes flying your way, making you duck sharply out of the way to avoid getting hit in the face.  You glower at the group, and it doesn’t a take a genius to figure out whose fault it was; Jungkook is staring down at the table feigning innocence, avoiding your eyes.  Though perhaps you should thank him for providing such a successful distraction, and just in time too, because a moment later Jimin comes walking into the dining room with none other than Namjoon at his side. 

You haven’t crossed paths with Namjoon ever since your dabble into voyeurism and the moment you see him it’s like you’re transported right back there, peeping through the door, watching him savage that woman in every sense of the word.  Your heart starts to pound in your chest, but it’s not a pleasant flutter like it was a minute ago.  The second he looks at you it feels like you’ve been plunged into ice.  You drop your eyes to the floor submissively. 

Yoongi softly says your name, alarmed by your sudden change in behaviour.  He doesn’t know what you saw before, or the feelings of fear and twisted desire that Namjoon inspires in you. 

“I thought I’d come to meet our new house-guest,” he explains, voice silky smooth, “Apparently one pet wasn’t enough for Jimin-ah.”  You grit your teeth, clenching your jaw, very aware that Yoongi is still watching you closely. 

“What’s wrong gongjunim?” he whispers so only you can hear, the worry evident in his tone, leaning in close again.  You shake your head an infinitesimal amount, flicking your eyes upward and realising that Namjoon is now stood only a metre away, Jimin still right at his side.  You’re not sure what bothers you more; Namjoon's close proximity or the way Jimin is watching you and Yoongi through narrowed, jealous eyes.   The black-haired vampire must sense it too, because he swiftly leans back to pit more space between you, adopting his normal poker face as he starts fussing Nova again.

“May I?” Namjoon asks politely, addressing the question to you as he extends his hands out to take Nova from Yoongi's lap.   He’s smiling so pleasantly, as if butter wouldn’t melt, but you can  from the look in his eyes that there’s a whole wealth of cogs twisting and turning in his mind and he looks at you. 

“Be my guest,” you answer, equally civil – once you manage to find your voice, that is.  You’re half hoping that Nova will be absolutely repelled by Namjoon, that’ll she’ll hiss and twist and jump out of his arms, but it turns out to be entirely the opposite.  He lifts her from Yoongi’s lap and straight to his chest, cradling her against him with a gentleness that seems totally out of character, and she loves it.  She nudges her nose against his chin and then starts to rub the side of her face against his jaw as he scratches behind her ear, smiling down at her indulgently. 

Taehyung looks absolutely bereft at Nova’s acceptance of seemingly everyone but him; like a child that’s had his favourite toy taken away. 

“What a pretty little thing you are,” Namjoon admires as she begins to purr.  Traitor. 

Jimin comes to your side, sitting himself on the arm of your chair and sliding his hand into the back of your hair, nails scraping at the back of your scalp just hard enough to make you shiver.  You look up at him, expecting him to be looking back at you, but instead he’s staring directly at Yoongi, that dark, possessive look still on his face.  Looking the other way, it seems Yoongi either hasn’t noticed or is pointedly ignoring him – you presume it’s the latter of the two – and you start worrying your bottom lip between your teeth, turning your gaze frontward again only to lock eyes with Namjoon.  Oh, well isn’t this fun?

A sly smirk starts to stretch across his face, those dimples of his appearing as he takes in the atmosphere between the three of you; Jimin staring daggers at his Hyung, Yoongi looking anywhere but his direction, and you caught awkwardly in the middle.  You know that Namjoon has immediately surmised what’s going on, even if the others haven’t.  He’s too smart not to. 

“Jimin-ah,” he suddenly says, and behind him you can hear Jungkook asking for just one more game, “That assignment that I gave you for tonight?”  You glance up to Jimin who’s now listening intently to Namjoon, his fingers still absent-mindedly running through your hair.  “I think you should take some back-up.”   Hoseok must have been listening in because he suddenly pipes up, moving to Namjoon’s side with an eager smile.  

“I can go, Joonie-ah!  It’s been too long since JiHope kicked some ass.”  He thumps his fist in his palm, already ready for a fight, practically bouncing on the spot as you try to work out what the hell a ‘JiHope’ is.  It clicks just as Namjoon starts shaking his head, that sly smile growing even wider. 

“Not tonight.  I think it’s about time Yoongi-Hyung was made to take some exercise.” 

Oh yes, Namjoon knows exactly what he’s doing.  For the first time Yoongi actually looks at Jimin, his head turning sharply his way, the only visible sign of his surprise being the way his eyebrows have raised above the line of his fringe, but now it’s Jimin that’s ignoring him, looking impassively straight ahead to Namjoon. 

Why do you have a feeling this is going to end badly? 

“If Hobi-Hyung would rather come, that’s fine by me,” Jimin says, his voice too level and controlled to sound natural.  Hoseok grins widely at hearing he’s wanted, but that smile soon falls when Namjoon puts his foot down. 

“No,” he snaps, no longer smiling, “You two will go, and no one else.”  Hoseok just shrugs his acceptance at Jimin and then goes back to his game, his disappointment soon forgotten as Jungkook fires another head-shot at him. 

Yoongi rises from his seat with a sigh, slipping his phone into the back pocket of his black skinny jeans.  He looks really good tonight, with the rips in his jeans and the shirt and braces combination he’s wearing.  You realise too late that you’ve been looking too long, glancing back nervously to Jimin and blushing guiltily when you see the way he’s clenching his jaw. 

“Come on then,” Yoongi says to Jimin, looking back to both of you. 

“One second.”  The next thing you know Jimin’s leaning over you, pulling you towards him with that hand that’s still in your hair and claiming your mouth with a hard, passionate kiss.  You know he’s doing it for effect and that this is all a display of dominance meant for Yoongi, but you can’t help but enjoy it.  Jimin taking control leaves you feeling so weak, in the best of ways, and it’s a good thing the kiss doesn’t last too long because a moment longer and you’re sure you would have started moaning into his mouth, no matter who was around to listen. 

When he pulls away you’re blushing and breathless, and absolutely everyone is watching.  The game came to such an abrupt standstill that the ping-pong ball bounces against the table-top and then rolls straight off, completely ignored by Taehyung.  He’s staring at you like you’re ready to be eaten, his mouth slightly open and the pink of his tongue just visible where it’s resting at the corner. 

“Be good, kitten,” Jimin purrs, looking annoyingly pleased with himself now he’s made his point, placing one final kiss on your forehead and then getting up and walking past Yoongi without a word.   You’re not sure what you expected his reaction to be, but Yoongi doesn’t seem to react at all, externally at least.  You know him too well to think nothing’s going on behind that expressionless appearance of his after all those things he said to you the other night.  You give him a tiny smile, hating how apologetic it feels.  He just blinks back at you and then follows after Jimin with his hands shoved in his pockets. 

“Be safe,” you call after them as Namjoon places Nova back on the floor, his work here clearly done. 

“Don’t worry,” Jin smiles kindly, “They can handle themselves.”  You nod uncertainly, not bothering to divulge that it’s really not villains or drug dealers you’re worried about.  At this point, you’re just hoping they don’t tear each other apart. 

Chapter Text

You’d kind of hoped that once Jimin and Yoongi had left that Namjoon would soon follow suit, sufficiently satisfied with the trouble he’s caused, but he doesn’t seem in any kind of hurry to make himself scarce.  He’s been watching your every facial expression closely, revelling in the worry that’s been making you restless, chewing on the inside of your mouth.  You hate that he’s enjoying yourself at your expense, so after less than a minute you’re up and out of your seat and joining the others at the ping-pong table, trying your best to smile.  

“What’s the score?” you ask, perching yourself on the edge of the pool table that sits adjacent and folding your arms.  

“9-7 to us,” Jin replies, readying himself to serve.  

“9-8,” Jungkook cuts in.  He looks like he’s taking this really seriously, with his wide stance and the way he’s dipping his body forward, paddle clasped in both hands.  His biceps are so muscular that his tight t-shirt sleeves are struggling to contain them as he flexes his grip.  You'd never noticed that about Kookie before; manly wasn’t really an adjective you would have used to describe him before now.  

“It's 9-7!” Jin disagrees obstinately, becoming flustered again.  Jungkook just smirks, shrugging.  

“Whatever.  If you really need the advantage that bad...”  Jin just huffs, and after a moment of intense concentration he serves – straight over the edge of the table.  Jungkook immediately starts laughing, straightening up and high-fiving Taehyung, and you can’t help but think that preying on Jin's pride was all part of Jungkook's game plan to begin with.  

“Hey,” Hoseok calls, addressing you, “You.. uh... You wanna play?” he asks, widening his arms and jutting his head in Jin's direction behind his back, clearly desperate for another team mate.  You just smile, shaking your head regretfully.  

“Eye-hand co-ordination isn’t really my thing.”

“Didn’t you say something like that right before you kicked Kookie's ass at Overwatch?” Taehyung asks, a big grin on his face.  

“She won by like, nothing. That was not ‘kicking my ass’,” Jungkook quickly disagrees, leaping backward when Taehyung tries to actually kick him under the table.  

“You’re trying to replace me?” Jin scowls at Hoseok.

“For the benefit of the team!”

“It’s not the team if I’m not in it!”  Instead of the opposing teams squabbling with one another it seems as though a fight has broken out on each side of the table, Jungkook and Taehyung trying to kick each other with equal ferocity as Jin defends his wounded pride to a world-weary looking Hoseok.  They’re all so wrapped up in their own arguments that no one really notices when Namjoon walks up to your side and takes a firm hold of your forearm.  

“Come walk with me,” he says quietly, a command rather than a request.  Even if it had been a suggestion you couldn’t refuse it anyway, because when Namjoon briskly walks away he’s pulling you roughly with him.  Your brain won’t work fast enough to think of any legitimate reason why you could call out to the others to stop him from taking you, so you end up being led from the dining room and into the living room with nary a word, suddenly so nervous that you think you might be sick.  

By the time he takes you out into the entrance hall you start pulling back, unwilling to be led any further from the safety of the group without a fight – even if it’s a pointless one.  He lets you go with a smirk, coming to a standstill at the bottom of the staircase.  

“What do you want, Namjoon?” you ask, trying to act feistier than you feel.  In reality you know that your hands would be shaking if your arms weren’t already crossed.  Why does he have to be so much taller than you?

“Just to talk,” he smiles, shrugging his shoulders, his hands hidden in the pockets of his black shorts.  He’s far more casual today than you’ve ever seen him look before, a long white t-shirt that hangs over his hips layered with a shorter grey one on top, a thin black choker wrapped around his neck.  It’s a good look on him.  It makes him look younger, friendlier – until he opens his mouth, that is.  “I feel like you’ve been avoiding me.”  

“I wonder why,” you retort before you can help yourself, complete with eye roll.  Namjoon's eyes narrow marginally, looking you up and down as you struggle to keep your breathing even and maintain his eye contact.  He folds his arms like you are, shifting his weight from one foot to another.  

“There’s something different about you,” he observes shrewdly.  He steps closer and the urge to back off is almost overwhelming but you still manage to stand your ground, even when he towers menacingly over you.  A beat passes before a sly smile starts to twist his mouth, amusement twinkling in his eyes. “I know,” he chuckles, “Jimin fucked you, didn’t he?”  You don’t mean to, but as soon as he says it you end up gasping, your arms dropping to your sides.  It’s enough of a reaction for him to know that he was right and he laughs again.  “When did he do it?”  

“That's none of your business,” you answer breathily, a blush forming on your cheeks.  Namjoon bites his bottom lip, his smile only growing wider and more depraved.  

“Was it after you watched me?” he asks, stepping closer again.  This time you can’t help but step back, your eyes dropping to the floor as your face burns.  You hate that he’s right, and you hate that he knows it.  “You should’ve just come in and joined me if you needed it that badly, little one.”  Namjoon reaches out and grabs onto the material at the front of your dress and uses it to yank you to him, your chest flush with his.  “I would've happily gone another round for you.”  

“I-I didn't-" Namjoon runs a slender finger along the line of your jaw as your heart races in your chest, unable to speak properly whilst you’re caught in the strength of his gaze.  He tilts his head to the side.

“What about Yoongi?  Has he fucked you too?”  The way he says it makes it sound so sinful, and even though you’re fighting against it you can feel yourself becoming aroused, the fire in your stomach growing as Namjoon's fingers wander down your neck.  “I know something’s going on there.  If he hasn't had you yet, he will soon.”  You swallow hard, Namjoon's other arm wrapping around your waist to keep you close.  How is it that everything he makes you feel is so intense, whether it be terror or lust, he always has your head spinning every time he’s around.  

“I can see why they both want you,” he tells you softly, leaning down so that his face is only a foot away from yours, “You would be just the sweetest thing to destroy.”  He licks his lips hungrily, looking down at yours, and you recognise the gesture well enough now to panic an appropriate amount when you see it.

“Don’t,” you plead, your voice sounding pathetically weak even to you.  How are you supposed to sound to convincing when you have arousal pooling hot and slick between your legs, even as you’re trying to deny him.  

“Why not?” Namjoon smiles, the hand that was resting on your waist starting to slide downward, ghosting over the curve of your behind.  He pushes his hips forward, pressing his heavy erection into your stomach to make you gasp again.  He feels as huge as he’d looked when he was stretching open...  

You close your eyes, trying to force the image out of your mind, your breathing rapid and shallow.  

“I know you're a little slut,” he whispers, bringing his mouth directly to your ear so that the words tickle and make you shudder, “I can smell how wet you are.”  You bite the inside of your mouth, clenching your jaw so hard that you start to taste blood, refusing to open your eyes.  You know if you do you’ll be done for.  “And everyone else will be able to smell it too, but I bet you like that, don’t you?”  Namjoon bites the curve of your ear, the hand that had been hovering by your behind now making contact and squeezing hard, pushing you into him.  

Why can’t you make yourself move away?  Why does it feel like all these degrading things he’s saying about you are true?  You’re burning up from the inside out, sick and excited all at once.  What the hell is wrong with you?  

Namjoon unceremoniously yanks up your dress so it bunches around your waist, standing in the middle of the entrance hall with your panties exposed for all to see while he sloppily kisses your neck.  Both of his hands come to rest on your buttocks again, one of them soon starting to snake downward toward the apex of your thighs from behind.  

“They’ll be able to smell my cum all over you too,” he growls, pulling your panties to the side and sliding a finger through your wet folds, skirting past your pussy and brushing against your asshole too.  Your eyes open wide as you gasp, your body bucking against him, and when you look up at him you see the way his whole face is contorted with lust, a dark and dangerous smile playing on those gorgeous lips.  “That’s right,” he coos, slipping a finger through your heat, “Be a good girl and open up for daddy.”  

Two things happen simultaneously at that moment.  Namjoon referring to himself as daddy, as Jimin had requested you do, seems to bring you crashing harshly back to reality, and almost a split second after he says it you hear noises coming from the living room.  The boys have obviously abandoned their game and dispersed, which means that any one of them may very well come walking out here any second.

You shove him away from you, surprised when he actually moves but knowing that the only reason he has done is because he’s allowed it.  If he'd have wanted to carry on you wouldn’t have had a choice; he’s a million times stronger than you in sheer force of will alone, nevermind strength.  As you scramble to pull down your dress Namjoon simply smirks, the outline of his cock obscenely obvious inside his shorts, and then slides the finger that had been touching you past his lips to suck it clean.  You stare back at him, panting, red in the face and barely believing what’s just happened.  What you let him do.  

“Don’t worry,” he tells you huskily, “I won’t tell Jimin.”  You see him wink, just before you turn on your heels and half-walk, half-run away from him again, straight into the nearest bathroom.  Your hands shake as you lock the door behind you, knees starting to wobble as your adrenaline fades.  As soon you make it to the sink you’re splashing water on your face, trying to avoid looking at the girl in the mirror.  You’re too ashamed to look at yourself right now.

What would Jimin think?  What happened with Yoongi was one thing, but this?  Namjoon is now the only other man apart from Jimin to touch you in such an intimate way, and you can’t even stand him.  Why the hell are you so weak, and why is he so impossible to resist even when you fear him the way you do?  Something is very... very wrong with you.  Maybe Namjoon is right, maybe you’re turning into some sort of... depraved sex addict, someone who doesn’t care who's touching you as long as it feels good.  And oh, it did feel so, so good.  

A knock comes at the door just as you’re gripping onto the countertop and biting your lip, squeezing your thighs together to get some relief.  For one second you think it might be Namjoon, that he’s followed you here to finish the job, and your heart leaps up into your throat, but then you hear Jungkook’s voice calling your name and you breathe a sigh of relief.  You take just a second to glance at your dress, making sure it’s straight and running your fingers through your hair before you open up the bathroom door again and come face to face with Kookie.

He starts to say your name again, smiling, but it’s like the word catches in his throat mid-way.  As soon as he sees you his eyes widen, glancing down at your mid-section, his Adam's apple bobbing heavy in his throat.  

“I... uh...” he stammers, shuffling nervously, “I just wanted to see if you were... uh... ok, and... erm... we brought Nova into the living room with us... we weren’t sure what you wanted to do with her.”  For a second you wonder what on earth is wrong with him; Jungkook has always been slightly on edge around you but nothing like this before.  But then you see his nostrils flare just ever so slightly, and the way he subtly pulls down on the hem on his t-shirt, and you realise what the problem is.  Just like Namjoon said, Jungkook can smell how aroused you are, and just the aroma of it is turning the poor boy on too.  

You blush fiercely, unable to look him in the face.  

“Thanks, Kookie, I’ll... um...” God, now you’re both as awkward as each other. “I’ll be along in just a minute.”  You head off down the corridor towards Jimin’s room without another word, so embarrassed you’re wishing the ground would swallow you whole, and as soon you get in there you’re pulling off your soiled underwear and throwing it straight in the hamper.  

But god, you’re still so turned on that just your thighs brushing against your bare mound has you squirming on the spot, eyes searching the room as if you’re hoping for Jimin to suddenly magically appear and put you out of your misery.  You can’t go back to the others like this.  Even with clean underwear they’ll smell you a mile away.  No, you’re going to have to take care of this yourself, right now.  

You crawl onto Jimin’s bed on all fours, pulling your dress up, ass turned up to the air, finding your way to his pillow and pushing your face into it.  The smell of him has you groaning into the downy feathers, reaching back between your legs and imagining that it’s his fingers instead of yours that start circling your clit.  You try to touch yourself the same way he did yesterday, teasing your hole and trying to resist sinking your fingers inside for as long as you can, but your willpower doesn’t last long, not when you’re as wet as you are.  You slide two fingers in, moaning wantonly, wishing it was Jimin's cock breaching you and not just your hands.  Before him masturbation had always felt like enough, but now it pales in comparison to the way he makes you feel.  You can’t hit your g-spot like he does, can’t fill yourself up so much that it burns.  

“Jimin...” you murmur, pushing back against your own hand but then groaning in frustration, turning over to lie on your back, letting your legs flop open wide.  Like this you can play with you clit and pump your fingers inside at the same time, curling them, your jaw going slack as the pleasure starts to build.  Imagining Jimin on top of you helps, picturing the way he frowns in concentration as he pounds into you.  

Somewhere along the way, amongst the jumble of lust-driven thoughts, an image of Yoongi appears in your head.  You don’t push it away because you don’t want to push it away, allowing yourself to imagine Yoongi’s thin frame instead of Jimin's thick one, firm lips instead of soft, whispers of princess rather than kitten.  It feels so good, and you start to rub harder at your clit, greedy for more, chasing your orgasm.  What kind of lover would Yoongi be, you wonder?  Would he be dominant, like Jimin?  Maybe even more? Or would he be soft and totally unexpected?  You’re not sure you care.  Let loose like this, in the throes passion, you’re able to admit to yourself that you hope Namjoon is right; you hope Yoongi does have you soon.  

“Fuck,” you moan, your back twisting, body bucking from the sheets, getting closer and closer, “Fuck, fuck me,” you beg, not even knowing who you’re begging anymore.  You cum spectacularly, your walls contracting around your fingers, moaning stiltedly for as long as it lasts and panting by the time it ends.  You’ve never cum that hard on own before; it was so intense that when you sit up you have black spots in front of your eyes, dizzy for a few seconds.  

Still, you feel a million times better than before.  That was just what you needed, and once your vision has cleared you get up out of bed and go into the bathroom to freshen up.  Changing your dress would seem too conspicuous but you make sure you put on new panties and spray yourself with a vanilla scented perfume that Jimin bought you, hoping it’ll be enough to cover up any lingering smells of arousal so you can safely return to the group.  

Now you just have to think of an excuse as to why you were gone so long and hope that Jungkook didn’t mention anything to the others.  You’re hoping that worst case scenario he just thinks you were getting off in the bathroom by yourself rather than doing anything you shouldn’t be with Namjoon.  

Shit... how did that even happen?  You don’t think you’d dare tell Jimin; if he glared the way he did earlier at Yoongi for just a kiss you dread to think what’d happen with something far more intimate than that.  You’re not sure he'd come off as the winning party either, not when Namjoon has given him a black eye before.  No, probably best not to tell him.  It’s not like you wanted it to happen anyway.  

So why do you still feel so dirty inside?  

You shake your head, trying to put it out of your mind as you step out of Jimin’s door.  As soon as step across the threshold your foot comes down on something soft rather than hard floor and you step back, looking down and frowning in confusion.  Laying there on the floor is a maroon piece of cloth – a bandana that you recognise well.  You pick it up, making doubly sure, you heart thudding hard in your chest.  You’ve seen this bandana before, stuffed in Jungkook's back pocket most days, or tied around his wrist, and your mouth falls open as you realise what finding this outside the door means.  

It looks like you’re not the only one who likes to watch...

Chapter Text

It takes you a good five minutes of indecision after finding Jungkook's bandana to decide whether you should go and rejoin the group or not.   You’re already embarrassed about seeing Jungkook as it is, nevermind how you feel now you know he’d been right outside the door watching you do... that.  You never would’ve thought Jungkook would be capable of something like that; he’s always seemed so bashful and nervous around you that him being in any way a sexual being had never even crossed your mind.  Hoseok maybe, and maybe even Taehyung, but Jungkook?  He’s clearly not as innocent as he looks.  

You can’t not go back though, not when they’ve still got Nova with them, and she’s probably getting hungry so you really ought to go to fetch her at the very least.  Jungkook might not even be there; perhaps he’s had to go and take some ‘private time’ too.  You mentally scold yourself for letting your thoughts even start to take that turn, shaking your head as you tuck Jungkook’s bandana away in one of your drawers.  It’d be far too awkward to give it back to him directly, so you’ll give it a couple of days and then just leave it lying around in the living room for him to find there.  There’s no reason for him to know that you know and turn it into a bigger deal than it needs to be.  A few weeks ago you might’ve gotten really mad at someone perving in on you like that, but now, after knowing how it felt when you were watching Namjoon… well, let’s just say you kind of get it. 

Before you can give yourself too much time to second guess your decision you head back towards the living room, relieved that the entrance hall is distinctly lacking in Namjoon’s presence.  He must have retreated upstairs again, back into his lair, and you’re very grateful for it.  You step into the living room and as soon as you do you spot Nova curled up on the rug, her ears pricking up and twisting in your direction to acknowledge your presence.   Taehyung seems to have made some headway with her.  He’s managed to lie himself on his side a couple of feet away, wriggling his fingers near her face, trying to goad her into playing with him.  She’s not, but at least she hasn’t run away from him this time. 

Luck seems to be with you at the moment; Jungkook is missing from the room too, as is Seokjin. 

“Where’s Jin gone?”  you ask as you sit yourself on an empty sofa, directing the question to Hoseok sat opposite.  

“He had to go calm himself down,” Hoseok sniggers, peeping out at you over the top of the comic book he’s reading, “Stomped off muttering something about crème brûlée.” 

“You guys lost that badly huh?”  you grin and Hoseok pulls a face.

“Remind me not to play with him next time.” 

“Will do.”  You pull your legs up onto the sofa, curling them underneath you and making sure to stretch the material over your knees to keep yourself from being exposed.  Taehyung is inching closer to Nova again, very gently reaching out his hand to pet her head and his eyes widening with excitement when, for a moment, it looks as though he might succeed.  However, right before he makes contact Nova gets up and saunters off a few steps away, only to plonk herself down again further along the rug, staring back at him in a way that looks almost mocking. 

Taehyung just can’t take it anymore, flopping down face-first onto the rug and wailing into it.

“WHY WON’T YOU LET ME LOVE YOU?!”  You have to bite down on your hand to keep yourself from how badly you want to laugh at the sight of him, spread-eagled, face-down on the floor, kicking his legs in frustration, but Hoseok has no such intention.  He laughs loudly, rubbing salt into the wound by taking his book and throwing it at Taehyung’s head, laughing even harder when it thwacks into his shoulder with a satisfying thud. 

“Face it, Tae-ah, she doesn’t like you,” he teases, smiling widely, and when Taehyung lifts his face from the floor he’s pouting hard, crushed by his earlier rejection being repeated.

“What’s not to like?” he moans, throwing Hoseok’s comic book back at him just as hard.

“Don’t listen to him,” you console, smiling indulgently as Taehyung pulls himself up off the floor and flops down onto the sofa next to you instead.  He lets himself tip to the side, his head falling directly into your lap, facing outward towards the TV.  Your hands immediately rise in the air, staring down wide-eyed at the mop of blonde hair sitting in your lap.  “Er… Tae?”  You lean forward, peering down to look at his face, but Taehyung’s just staring blankly ahead, bereft of all expression.  He says your name and reaches up to grab your nearest arm by the wrist, pulling it downward to rest on top of his head and then letting go.

“Hold me.”  Your mouth is still hanging open at this point, wondering what on earth is going through this boy’s head, and when you look over at Hoseok in confusion he just shrugs, eyebrows quirked upward. 

“You’re so weird,” Hoseok mutters before opening his comic book again and proceeding to ignore whatever it is that Taehyung’s up to.

You look down at the side of Taehyung’s head, wondering what to make of his strange behaviour.  He’s so unlike the others sometimes.  It’s like his thoughts just don’t follow the same pattern as everyone else’s, but this seems innocent enough, if a little odd.  It’s kind of sweet, actually.  You shrug, deciding that there’s no harm in indulging him for a while and giving his hair a gentle stroke as your other hand grabs the TV remote from where it’s wedged down the side of the cushion next to you.  Taehyung’s hair is very soft, actually, not all that unlike the feel of Nova’s preened fur. 

There’s nothing in particular of interest on the TV, but to be honest it’s just nice to let yourself zone out for a little while and think of nothing after everything that’s been going on today.  You feel like you’ve got an equivalent of emotion whiplash, so losing yourself in watching a cheesy romance flick doesn’t seem such a bad idea, though it does make you feel a little jealous.  Boy meets girl, girl meets boy and surprise, surprise, they fall in love, no doubt overcoming all obstacles in their path.  Where are the blood-thirsty monsters and the unlikely love interests all trying to get into the heroine’s pants for whatever-god-knows-reason?   How come they get it so easy? 

The commercials don’t get any better – they’re clearly directed toward the couples that might be watching elsewhere – but one in particular does catch your attention.  It’s an advert for a ballet company’s interpretation of Romeo and Juliet, with performances dates spread over the next couple of weeks in the nearest city, and immediately you start to wonder whether it’d be something that Jimin would like to go to.  Although you love being here it might still be nice to get out of the house for a change and actually go somewhere together.  Maybe you could even hope to call it a date? 

“Hobi?”  you call softly, very aware that at some point during the film Taehyung decided to close his eyes and hasn’t opened them again.  You don’t think he’s sleeping – every time you stop running your fingers through his hair he gives his head a little shake in encouragement for you to carry on – but it seems a shame to disturb such intense relaxation nonetheless.  “When’s Jimin’s birthday?”  Hoseok shuts his comic, one of his fingers resting between the pages to keep his place as he looks back at you thoughtfully. 

“It’s been so long that we don’t really take much notice of each other’s birthdays anymore,” he tells you, adding with a grin, “The whole not aging thing makes them kind of obsolete.” 

“I figured that, but still, when is it?” you persist and Hoseok tilts his head to the side, rubbing his cheek as he tries to remember. 

“I want to say… October 30th?”  He frowns and then quickly shakes his head.  “No, wait, the 13th.  Yeah, I’m sure that’s right.”  It’s a good job you asked, because that’s only a few days away from now.  Clearly fate wants you to take Jimin to that performance to celebrate his birthday – why else would it all line up so perfectly?  “Why’d you ask?” 

“I was thinking maybe he’d like to go see a show.”  You hesitate, biting your lip, suddenly unsure when a quizzical expression passes over Hoseok’s face.  These guys know Jimin far better than you, maybe he’d hate it?  “A dance show.  Do you… do you think he would?  Like that, I mean?”  Hoseok suddenly smiles brightly, nodding once. 

“I think he’d love that.”  You blush, pleased that he approves but your elation soon fading when you realise that you have absolutely no way of paying for the tickets.   “What’s wrong?” he asks, obviously noticing the way your smile had faltered. 

“I won’t be able to afford it,” you tell him, shrugging your shoulders, trying not to make it too much of a big deal.  You should’ve thought of that before you’d convinced yourself it was such an amazing idea. “I’ll just think of something else.”  Hoseok shifts on the sofa, tilting his weight to reach into his back pocket and grab something that he then offers you, leaning right forward.  You stare dumbly at his wallet, shocked that he’s trying to give it to you so freely.  He waggles it in the air, smiling. 

“Take it.”  You look back and forth between the wallet and Hoseok’s kind face, hesitating.  Would it be totally inappropriate of it for you to accept?  “Get the tickets, buy yourself something pretty to wear and have a good time.  One of us might as well get a date once in a while.”

“Hobi, I can’t… that’s too-“ He sighs, interrupting you.

“You can.  You’re part of the family now, and god knows it’s not like I’ve done anything to contribute lately.”  You dither for just one second longer, finally taking the wallet with a grateful smile once Hoseok raises both of his eyebrows at you expectantly. 

“Thank you,” you tell him appreciatively, both for the money and for him referring to you as family.  It means more than you can say, all your insides glowing with warmth as he smiles back at you. 

It’s at this moment that Jungkook decides to reappear, swaggering back into the room with his hands in his pockets but then coming to a complete standstill when he spots you, his eyes opening up as wide as saucers.  His mouth opens too but then he falters, quickly looking to the floor as you feel yourself start to blush, unable to keep yourself from picturing the way he might have looked loitering outside your door. 

Just when you thought he couldn’t look any more uncomfortable Jungkook suddenly notices Taehyung’s head lying on your lap.

Hyung!  What’re you doing?!”  he practically yells before he can help himself, sounding so scandalised you’d think Taehyung was humping your leg or something.  You raise your eyebrows at him, thinking how rich it is for Jungkook to be sounding judgemental when only half an hour ago he was a certified peeping tom.   Of course, he doesn’t know that you know that.  Taehyung rolls over on your lap so he’s on his back, tilting his head up to look at Jungkook past his fringe, unperturbed.

“I’m a pretty kitty,” he replies with his boxy grin and then flops his head back into your lap, looking up at you with those large doe eyes and whispering, “Meow.”   You laugh, shaking your head at him as you push his hair back from his forehead, looking back up to Jungkook and grinning even more at the flabbergasted look on his face. 

“You’re so weird,” he says, echoing Hoseok’s earlier thoughts.    He gives his head a little a shake and then comes to sit cross-legged on the rug, his back against the sofa where Hoseok is sitting – as far away from you as possible.  He takes the gaming controller from where it’s resting atop of sofa cushion above him and then turns on Overwatch without thinking to ask if it’s ok and you very almost pass comment – you were already watching something, actually, thanks Kookie – but that particular film being turned off doesn’t feel like the greatest of losses, so you let it slide.  Taehyung whines in your lap when he sees Jungkook gently petting Nova to pass the time during the many loading screens.  

“There, there,” you soothe, humouring him by scratching behind his ears and smiling when you notice the way they stick out a little.  You have to hand it to him, Taehyung might be strange, but he’s still god damn adorable when he wants to bed, especially when he nuzzles against your leg, eyes closed and smiling contentedly. 

When you look up a moment Jungkook’s watching the both of you again, though his eyes dart away to the screen so quickly that you almost start to doubt he was ever looking at all.  At least he’s not bringing it up.  God, you think you’d die if he tried to tease you or make a joke out of it.  Awkward and watchful you can deal with; after all it’s not that different from how he was with you before. 

“What did you mean about not contributing Hobi?” you ask once boredom has started to set in, thinking about what he’d mentioned earlier when offering you his wallet. 

“I meant that Namjoon hasn’t put me to work in forever,” he huffs, placing his comic book down on the arm of the chair, looking disgruntled.  “I feel like I’m losing my edge, man.” 

“At least you’ve eaten something fresh lately,” Jungkook weighs in, not taking his eyes off the screen as his fingers manipulate the controller pads with enviable dexterity, “I’m sick of blood packs.” 

“Me too,” Taehyung moans, finally sitting himself upright on the sofa but pulling his legs up to sit crossed legged next to you.  “I’m starving.”  You don’t miss the way Taehyung’s eyes flick down to the collar resting across your neck, or the way his tongue runs hungrily across his bottom lip, and it isn’t until you clear your throat that he the good graces to drag his gaze away, flashing you a sheepish smile instead.  It’s funny that it doesn’t even scare you any more when they look at you that way; you simply raise an eyebrow at him in faux irritation. 

“Is it unusual for Jimin to get given so many of the assignments then?” 

“Jimin-ah is the best, but it’s never been like this before,” Hoseok replies, shaking his head, “Either things are getting more serious or Joonie-ah has it out for him.”  He smiles as if he’s making a joke, but secretly you think Hoseok is probably very right in linking your arrival and Jimin’s increased workload together. 

“What about Yoongi?”  You throw the question in cautiously, wondering if anyone else has noticed the atmosphere between the three of you like Namjoon has, but no one really bats an eyelid, answering your question just like it was any other. 

Hyung can’t fight for shit,” Jungkook smirks from his seat on the floor, getting it knocked off his face when Hoseok slaps him round the back of the head with his magazine. 

“He doesn’t need to fight when no one sees him coming.  Yoongi-hyung has killed more with his knife than you ever have, maknae.”  It’s your turn to smirk now, watching Jungkook scowl at the TV, murmuring something under his breath. 

You’re about to start asking the others what they’re specialities are when Jin suddenly enters the room through the doorway that leads to the kitchen, carrying with him a tray on which you can hear tableware moving around. 

“You’ve finished sulking hyung?”  Tae teases, sticking his tongue out between his teeth.

“I wasn’t sulking,” Jin quickly corrects, shooting Taehyung a scolding look.  “Here,” he says, standing in front of you and lowering the tray gently onto your lap, “I hope you don’t mind dessert for dinner, I was in the mood to make something sweet.” 

“That’s my very favourite kind of dinner, Jin, thank you,” you smile up at him, noting a cup of orangey-pink tea and a small plate of chicken that are sat beside the small dish of gelatinous dessert he’s brought you.  He takes the chicken and walks gingerly over to where Nova is now awake and sniffing the air, suddenly alert now that she can smell the aroma of chicken being brought her way. 

“And this is for you, sweet one,” Jin tells her kindly, bending down and placing the plate in front of her.  She immediately begins to eat, hoovering it up without a moment’s hesitation, completely unconcerned by Jin’s gentle stroking.  You follow her example, picking up the crème brûlée and digging in with dainty spoon he’s given you, cracking through the hard, sugary surface to the warm cream inside.

As usual, Jin’s cooking is absolutely divine.  You drag the spoon between your lips with an approving moan, nodding your head at Jin to convey just how much you like it.  Taehyung says your name from beside you and you glance over as you eagerly scoop up another spoonful. 

“What does it taste like?” he asks, his expression thoughtful as you slip the spoon between your lips again.  You really think as you enjoy this mouthful, trying to find the words to describe the taste and texture as Taehyung waits patiently for your answer. 

“The sugar on top is sort of bitter, but the cream is really sweet and soft and smooth,” you explain, spooning out more and holding it out for him to see, giving it a shake, “It’s kind of wobbly, too.”  You grin and then carry on eating, Taehyung grinning back sweetly.  “Do you miss real food?” 

“Nah,” Taehyung shrugs, “I miss missing food, sometimes.  My grandma used to make the best Kimchi.”  His expression changes at the mention of his grandmother, the look in his eyes becoming far-off and wistful, but he soon snaps back to his usual cheerful looking self when Jin starts to speak. 

“Sometimes I try what I’m cooking but it all tastes the same now. We don’t really want or miss anything anymore except for blood.”

“Oh I don’t know,” Hoseok chimes in, a mischievous smile spreading across his face, “I can think of one other thing we still have an appetite for, right Tae-ah?”  You’re so wrapped up in your dessert that you almost miss the way Hoseok flicks his eyes in your direction, grinning at Taehyung. 

“Hobi-ah, don’t be perverted,” Jin scolds, sitting himself on the arm of the sofa and knotting his eyebrows together disapprovingly at the vampire next to him.  The two of them start to bicker again, though all in good humour, Hoseok calling Jin a prude and Jin threatening to reveal the sheer amount of porn he’s found hidden away on the others computer.  Jungkook is just listening to them both with a grin on his face, whereas Taehyung has fallen unusually silent.  You know he’s looking at you, though, even without looking yourself.  It’s like you can feel the intensity of his gaze on your skin, your cheeks starting to flush in response, and when you glance over at him you see that you were right; he’s staring hard. 

It’s a look you’ve seen from him before, back when he’d been sat on your stomach leaning over you, but time had made you forget just how piercing his eyes are look when he’s really concentrating hard.  He’s looking at you like you’re the most fascinating thing in the world, like you’re something wondrous, and it’d seem innocent enough if it weren’t for the heat in his gaze. 

What on earth is wrong with all of them?  It’s like they’ve never seen a woman before!

Taehyung flops his head back into your lap except this time he’s turned towards you, his face only a few inches away from touching your stomach, and you’re suddenly very aware of just how close he is to the most intimate part of you, blushing again at the rapt attention you’re receiving.  He gazes up at you, a small, playful smile on his face as he quietly calls your name in a sing-song voice.  That would be bad enough, really, but all of a sudden you feel fingertips wandering along the side of your thigh, winding their way upward from your knee to your hip and watching for a reaction.  You swallow, glancing down at his hand and then back to him, all your insides clenching nervously, trying to keep your breathing normal so that the others don’t notice.    

Again Taehyung breathily sings your name, dragging his nails back down thigh just hard enough to make you shudder, his mouth opening so you can see his pink tongue moving from side to side inside, that mischievous smile of his only getting wider. 

“Taehyung,” you whisper, giving your leg a shake to try and subtly knock him off, but all it makes him do is squeeze the flesh he’s holding. 

“Kitty wants to play,” he whispers back, his normally low voice dropping even lower, raspy with lust, and damn it, it thrums right through you down to your core, all your pelvic muscles clenching.   Thankfully all the others are still squabbling so loudly that they aren’t paying attention to what’s going on just across the room on the opposite sofa, but you know that any moment now they might.   It’s not that you don’t like Taehyung – the way he’s stroking your thigh feels really nice, and he’s definitely very cute – but frankly you’ve had enough of being toyed with today, and now that you know about the unfortunate aroma you give off when you’re aroused you’re really not willing to risk it happening again with a room full of permanently horny vampires.  

You stand up abruptly, knocking Taehyung’s head off of your lap, clearing your throat and straightening out your dress as soon as you’re upright.  Surprisingly, Taehyung doesn’t look dismayed at all.  If anything he’s smiling even harder, sitting crossed legged again and watching you with amusement. 

“I’m gonna take Nova back to Jimin’s room,” you announce to no-one in particular, walking over to her and scooping her off the floor into your arms.  Luckily enough she’s feeling co-operative now she’s full of chicken and is quite happy to be held, saving you from any unfortunate clawing and hissing whilst you’re trying to escape.   

Hoseok and Jin wish you a cheerful goodnight whilst Jungkook murmurs something you can’t quite hear, glancing up at you for just a millisecond before his eyes dart away again.  He touches his hair too, something you’ve come to recognise as one of his nervous habits, so you know he’s still thinking about what he saw you do earlier, and realising that makes your mind flash back to it too.  What is it with these guys? 

You have to walk past Taehyung to leave and as you do he reaches up and lets his fingertips brush along your hip as you pass. 

“Sweet dreams,” he purrs. 

Chapter Text

You spend the remaining hours of the early morning burning a hole in Hoseok’s wallet with all the online shopping you do on Jimin’s Ipad.  First, you make sure to buy the tickets for Romeo and Juliet, squirming in delight when you manage to get balcony tickets on the night of his actual birthday, and then you focus on finding yourself something nice to wear like Hobi suggested. 

It takes you a while – after all you’re not as good at picking out clothes as Jimin – but eventually you settle on a classic black dress with a sweetheart neckline and off the shoulder sleeves.  It has a split up the side too, one that’s just high enough that you’ll be able to show a little thigh without it looking totally trashy or cheap.  You buy your first pair of shoes then; a pair of black kitten heels that are high enough to look elegant but not so high as make you taller than Jimin when you have them on – or at least you hope. 

Somehow, and you don’t know quite how it happens, you find yourself looking at adult collars, curious as to all the different types and designs.  You’re not sure you’d ever want a name tag – that might be slightly too far – but you have to admit some of them are quite cute, especially the lacy ones or the sort that have extra bows of silky ribbon attached.  Before you know it you’re buying yourself a new one to go with your outfit, feeling pretty confident that Jimin will like what you’ve chosen and biting your lip when you imagine just how enthusiastic you hope his reaction might be. 

You make sure to clear your browser and search history before you turn off Jimin’s Ipad, not wanting to take any chances that he might inadvertently spoil his own surprise.  Your eyes are starting to feel a little heavy with sleep, scratchy like that’ve got sand in them, and though you wanted to wait up for Jimin to come home the longer you lay on his bed with Nova curled up against you the harder it is to fight.   In the end you force yourself to get up, telling yourself that you should probably change and fetch yourself a drink just in case you wake up thirsty later, knowing that this will at least let you kill twenty minutes more.

It’s Jimin’s clothes you choose to put on again rather than any of the bedtime stuff he bought you before.  His t-shirt is infinitely more comfortable, and you love the way it sits tightly over your bust and hips whilst hanging loose around your waist.  It’s much more your style than the skimpy little negligée hiding away in your bottom drawer; although you have no doubt that an occasion will come soon enough for you to put that to good use.  Hopefully, anyway. 

You pad your way down to the kitchen quietly, feeling fairly certain that the rest of the guys are in bed from how deathly silent the house has fallen.  It feels almost oppressive, all this quiet, and it’s really hard not to notice the similarities between now and the time you heard all those noises coming from Namjoon’s room… 

The sound of the kettle starting to bubble and boil makes you jump, and it’s only now that you realise that all the hairs on your arms are standing on end.  It must be a more potent memory than you realise to creep you out so much just thinking about it. 

You start to make your drink – hot cocoa with plenty of milk – but just as you’re opening up the fridge door you hear the tell-tale crunching of gravel that means someone is pulling up to the front of the house, and your heart leaps up into your throat with excitement when you realise that this must be Jimin and Yoongi returning.  You finish up your drink quickly, unable to keep a smile from spreading across your face, so eager to see them both that you have butterflies swirling in your stomach. 

You’re just getting into the entrance hall when the heavy front door swings open.  Jimin steps through first and you’re relieved to see that he’s not covered in blood this time; neither someone else’s nor his own.  His eyes immediately find you, stood near the staircase with your mug clasped between both hands, a soft smile on your face that he quickly mirrors.  He walks over to you and drops his bag by your feet, grabbing a fistful of his own t-shirt and using it to pull you close. 

“Were you missing me, kitten?”  He captures your lips in a harsh, hungry kiss that makes you think that you weren’t the only one missing someone, not by a long shot.  When Jimin pulls away, smirking down at your breathless state, you get a moment to appreciate just how good he looks when he’s tired and sweaty from a mission.  It makes him look more real, slightly less polished, and frankly you can’t get enough.  You only become distracted when you hear the door hinge creak slightly as it’s pushed further open, and when you look over Jimin’s shoulder you see Yoongi walking in – in a significantly poorer looking state. 

Jimin looks at you then looks back at Yoongi, noting the way your lips have slightly parted and you’ve started to frown.  He touches your chin gently, pulling your attention back. 

“I’ve got to go and debrief with Namjoon, it won’t take long.”  He leaves his bag with you, ascending the stairs with one last glance back to see you already walking towards Yoongi, concern written all over your face. 

You place your mug of cocoa on the windowsill next to the door, and as soon as your hands are free they automatically reach out to the injured vampire, taking both of his cheeks in your hands.  He winces as you touch the bruise that’s discolouring his jaw but he doesn’t pull away, looking back at you with surprise in his eyes at how openly tactile you’re being with him when Jimin isn’t even quite out of sight yet.  He’s got a split across his eyebrow, a split on his bottom lip, purple bruising on his jaw and neck and you’re willing to bet several other injuries under the black baggy t-shirt he’s wearing.  It hurts you to see him looking this way, your eyes starting to sting because of the tears threatening to collect there. 

“Please tell me Jimin didn’t do this,” you softly implore, not wanting to believe that a man you’re in love with could do something like this to… to whatever Yoongi is to you.  You’re not even sure you know yourself.  Yoongi gives you a lopsided smile, tonguing the split on his lip when the movement on his mouth causes it to open up and start bleeding again. 

“Only this and that,” he replies, pointing toward the bruise on his jaw that your hand is currently covering.  Both were probably caused by one good punch, so at least that’s something, although it doesn’t really make you feel any better about the rest of his injuries, Jimin inflicted or not.  “The others were my fault.  I’m out of practice and I wasn’t careful enough.”  You run your thumbs along the sharp angles of his cheekbones, biting your lip to try and stop yourself from crying.

“I’m so sorry he did that,” you mumble but Yoongi just tilts his head into one of your palms with a soft smile, bringing up his own hand to curl around yours. 

“Don’t be,” he assures you, his eyes twinkling with happiness, “It was worth it.  I’d take it again, a thousand times.”  He twists your hand away from his face just enough so that he can press his cool lips to your palm in a kiss, his eyes fluttering closed as you blush, your heart skipping a beat.  Yoongi really knows just the right things to say to make you feel more conflicted than you’ve ever have in your entire life.  You love Jimin, you know you do, so then why does your heart pound so hard whenever you’re with Yoongi, too?

Somewhat reluctantly Yoongi removes your hands from his face, letting them go at your sides.

“I wish I could help… feed you so you could heal faster or something,” you tell him regretfully.

“Jimin really would kick the shit out of me if I did that.”  There’s not a hint of smile on his face or humour in his voice as he says it, and you know he’s perfectly right.  Jimin is possessive enough when it comes to your body, nevermind your blood.

“How were things on the way back?  Are you guys ok?”  You’d really hate to become a constant source of animosity between the two of them when you know how close they all are.  The group are more than friends, they’re brothers, and damaging that bond is something you’d really like to avoid.  You don’t think you’re worth it, in all honesty. 

“We’re good.  He punched me, we talked.  We’re good.”  Yoongi shrugs his shoulders, saying nothing more, and though you’d love to know what exactly it was they spoke about it’s at that very moment that you hear Jimin coming back down the stairs, effectively cutting your conversation short.  He’s eyeing you and Yoongi as he takes the last few steps, although not as angrily as he was before, and he extends his hand out to you once he’s collected his bag off the floor, cocking his head.

“Let’s go to bed, kitten.”  You give Yoongi one last smile before you collect your hot cocoa off the side and return to Jimin, linking your fingers through his.  You know he’s watching you both walk away though, you can feel his eyes on your back, and you wonder whether he’ll still be thinking about you when he climbs into bed later, too.  “You look so pretty in my shirt,” Jimin tells you as you walk down the corridor, releasing your hand and putting it around your shoulder instead, pressing an affectionate kiss to the side of your temple, “I might’ve been wrong about knowing what’d suit you best.”   

“I don’t know,” you reply, smiling shyly and glancing down at your bare legs poking out from the bottom, “I kind of like both.”   Your answer makes him smile a little, the corners of lips slanting upward, his mocha-coloured eyes creasing smaller.  He’s so gut-wrenchingly beautiful when he smiles that you can’t help but want to keep him smiling all the time, and as you walk side by side into his room you’re once again left feeling totally and utterly torn about how you could possibly be developing feelings for Yoongi too. 

Jimin throws his bag into his closet and as you’re climbing into his bed, cocoa in hand, he strips out of his t-shirt, getting ready to join you.  Even after all this time the sight of him half-undressed has you fighting the instinct not to choke on the sip you just took, swallowing it too quickly instead so that you end up with a slightly burnt throat. 

“How was Nova tonight?”  He’s just put his shirt in the hamper and now he’s undoing his belt and unbuttoning his pants, trying to make casual conversation like he’s not almost naked.  How Jimin can be doing things like that, looking the way he does, and seem completely oblivious to the effect it’s having on you is beyond your understanding.  Or maybe he does know what he’s doing, and that’s why he’s pulling his belt out of the loops extra slow as he waits for you to answer. 

“She was fine,” you reply once your brain has managed to click into gear, focusing your eyes on his face rather than his body – not that that particularly helps. “Tae is still trying and failing to win her over, and Jin spoiled her with a whole plate of chicken for dinner.”  He steps out of his pants and straight into his sweats, giving you just a brief, blissful glimpse of his tight red boxer briefs.  You take another gulp of your cocoa, hiding the light blush on your cheeks behind the mug. 

“And what did he spoil you with?”

“Crème brûlée,” you grin as he walks over to the bed and pulls back the covers.  Jimin hums thoughtfully as he climbs in next to you, a cheeky smile spreading across his face, and then he unexpectedly leans over and takes your drink from your hands to place it on the bedside table. 

“Does that mean you’ll taste extra sweet?”  he practically growls, his tone more playful than lusty, and you brace yourself for something to happen when you see all his shoulder muscles tense, ready to pounce. 

In one quick movement Jimin grabs both your shoulders and starts to place short, staccato kisses against your mouth, pulling you with him when he rolls onto his back.  You’re half lying on top of him as he places kiss after noisy kiss against your lips, making you giggle uncontrollably as they become progressively more slobbery, landing on your nose and closed eyes too. 

“Jimin, stop, you’re so gross!” you laugh, trying to push his head back into the pillow and shoving your hand across his mouth to place a barrier between his lips and your face as soon as you possibly can.  He tries to say something, but it’s so muffled by your palm that you can’t make it out. 

“My kisses are gross?” he pouts once you remove your hand, jutting out his bottom lip and widening his eyes.  You’ve never seen anything more adorable in your entire life, and seeing him lying underneath you like that makes your heart just melt, all of your insides turning into warm, gooey mush. 

“Not even a little bit,” you smile, leaning down to give him a kiss that’s long and lingers, his hands coming to rest on your behind by the time you’ve pulled away.  Jimin’s sulky expression has long disappeared when you open your eyes.  It’s been replaced by something far more familiar, his lip curled into a tiny smirk. 

“You’ve upset me now,” he purrs, squeezing the flesh of your buttocks gently.  “I think you need to make it up to me.”  He cocks his head to the side, his silver hair spreading out on the pillow behind him as that self-assured smile of his only grows wider. 

“Oh?”  You tilt your head to the side too, biting down on your bottom lip, more than happy to play along with his little game.  “And how would I do that?”  You see his eyes flicker down to your neck, his tongue slowly slipping out from between his lips to moisten them.

“Daddy’s hungry, kitten,” he tells you, and you can tell from the way his Adam’s apple bobs in his throat that it’s true. 

The very mention of him feeding from you has you feeling excited, arousal dampening the crotch of your shorts even though it’s not sex he’s asking for.  The two seem to have become synonymous in your mind, and it’s been too long since the last time as far as you’re concerned.   You’re so eager to feel the press of his fangs against your skin and the bliss that it brings that you don’t even hesitate to sit up and remove your collar, your breath already quickening.  The desire with which he watches you do it makes you feel like you’re doing a striptease, all the blood rushing to your cheeks, your rapid pulse bounding in your neck and Jimin must be able to sense it or hear it because suddenly he groans, reaching out for the back of your neck and bringing you sharply towards him.

“Ask me for it,” he whispers into your ear, fingertips digging into the side of your neck.  You swallow hard, the words sticking for a moment in your throat before you can finally choke them out, wanting it so badly but almost feeling too afraid to say. 

“Bite me, daddy, please…” 

When Jimin had first told you that you could call him daddy you’d actually had to hold back a laugh.  The idea of calling someone who wasn’t actually your father ‘daddy’, and at your age, had seemed ridiculous and frankly, a little perverted.  But the more you thought about it, the more appealing it started to seem.  You tried to put aside whatever familial meaning the word had and focused instead of the feeling it conveyed; dominance, power... love and care.  If those words would make you think of anyone it would be Jimin, so daddy actually seemed like a very appropriate title, once you’d gotten your head around it. 

And now, when the word passes your lips and you witness the reaction it spurs, you know it was the right choice.  You hear Jimin’s sharp intake of breath, you feel the way his body tenses underneath you, his fingers grabbing at your buttocks, erection digging into your stomach and instantly the word becomes a thousand hotter than it’d ever felt before.

“Please daddy,” you ask again, realising that hearing you say it that first time had stunned him into inaction.  This time, when you thread your fingers into his hair and drag his mouth towards your neck, Jimin doesn’t hesitate.

His fangs sink deep into you as you let out a strangled moan of pleasure, barely feeling the pain anymore, just excruciating bliss that’s getting you wetter by the second.  Your body starts to seek out relief all of its own accord, rubbing yourself against the thigh that sits between your legs as Jimin drags the blood from your veins, gorging himself on you, and within seconds you feel an orgasm coming.  You can’t tell if it’s from his thigh or from Jimin feeding, but when it hits you really couldn’t care less where it’s coming from, so overwhelmed with pleasure that your body jerks uncontrollably against him, unable to make a single sound until it’s passed. 

“God, kitten, you’re incredible,” you hear Jimin say against your hair from where your head is resting in the crook of his neck, collapsed on top of him, “You came?  Just from me feeding?” He slips his hand up the leg of your shorts to trace his fingertips along your folds, discovering the lingering wetness of your orgasm.  “You did... fuck.”  He groans, his body shifting to brush his length against your stomach, but all you can do is murmur incoherently in reply, nuzzling against his rock hard chest.  You hear him laugh softly as his fingers find their way into your hair, stroking gently.  “I want to fuck you so bad... But right now I’m not sure you could take me.”  The offer of sex has you lifting up your head, trying extra hard to stay awake. 

“I could... I could do-“ You have to pause to yawn, sleepy and dizzy, Jimin’s face fuzzy round the edges, “-could do it,” you finish with a murmur but he just laughs at you again, gently pushing you off of him to lie at his side, one arm curled around you so you can lean on his chest.  The both of you lie quietly for a while, Jimin's fingertips lightly tickling up and down your arm as you drift somewhere between wakefulness and sleep.  After a little while you hear him sigh and you rub your cheek against his pec, placing your arm across his middle and squeezing slightly.

“I hope you know how happy you make me,” he tells you quietly, a soft kiss pressed to the top of your head after he speaks.  Even through your sleepy haze his words still make your heart feel like it’s leapt up into your throat, momentarily choked with emotion.  You didn’t know, no, not until he just said it, but now you’re delirious with happiness too.  “And I want you to be happy here, too.” You’re about to open your mouth and tell him how that’s definitely the case, but then he carries on speaking.  “So I want you to be honest about what I’m going to ask you.”  You swallow, suddenly feeling very nervous.  What does he want to know?  Is something wrong? 

“Ok,” you agree hesitantly, looking down at the lumps under the covers that you know are your legs all intertwined underneath. 

“Do you have feelings for Yoongi?”  There’s a very long, pregnant pause in which your heart starts to beat rapidly, your mind at war with itself as to whether to tell him the truth or lie. 

“I care about him,” you answer truthfully, but you know you’re being too vague, and that’s not really what he asked. 

“The way you care about your friend, Sam?  Or the way you care about me?”  Again you pause, biting down on your lip, panic rising in your chest.  You’re about to lie, to make out it’s all platonic, but then Jimin speaks again. “Don’t lie to me kitten, I’ll know; I can hear your heart racing.” This isn’t fair; talking to him is like speaking to a polygraph machine, and you've never been very good at lying anyway.

“I don’t... I don’t know,” you admit, because there’s at least some truth in that. You don’t know what you really feel for Yoongi, only that it’s strong.  You tilt your head back to look up at him nervously, afraid you’ll see anger in his eyes but pleasantly surprised by how calm he looks.

“Did you like it when he kissed you?”  The question catches you off guard, but you figure you may as well carry on being honest if he’s only going to know anyway.

“Yes,” you answer quietly. 

“Have you wanted to kiss him again?”  You wanted to kiss him right there out in the hall only half an hour ago.

“Yes.”

“Have you thought about him fucking you?” Jimin asks, the pitch of his voice lowering as his eyebrow rises.  You immediately blush, turning your head, unsure you can even bring yourself to answer.  Almost a full minute passes before you manage to nod, looking back up to him and chewing on your cheek.  He sighs, looking away, his eyes searching the room as if he’s looking for answers to how he should feel, and you feel so guilty.  Jimin has been so wonderful to you just lately... You hate yourself for causing him pain.  “He answered the same way.” 

He did?  You think deep down you already knew that, but still, knowing that he said those things to Jimin makes all your insides clench with both nerves and excitement. 

“He's been happier since you arrived.”  He squeezes your arm gently, looking down at you.

“He has?” Jimin nods, expression serious and thoughtful. 

“Yoongi has always had periods of depression... some of them worse than others.”  You can believe that.  That cold, emotionless front he puts when he’s around other people has always felt like a mask just to hide everything that’s going on inside his mind.  “There were two years a while ago where he went off completely on his own without a word.  We didn’t know where he was or if he was coming back... and when he did come back it was obvious he hadn’t been eating.  He was skin and bone, on the verge of starvation, and he barely cared.” 

Your heart breaks at the thought of seeing him like that.  You can see how people might thing he’s aloof or harsh, but when he’s in high spirits you’ve seen glimpses of the sweetest, silliest person, with a wide, gummy smile and kind heart.  You love seeing him like that, and knowing that you might be helping to bring it out of him makes you feel so warm inside.

“I want you to be happy, and I want Yoongi to be happy too.”  Jimin tilts your head up with his finger under your chin, smiling kindly before he presses his lips to yours in a kiss that feels like a goodbye.  For one horrifying moment you think it might be, that Jimin’s going to step back and not want anything to do with you anymore, but then he pulls back and caresses your cheek, his whole expression decisive, like he’s made his mind up about something.  “So I suppose I’ll have to learn to share, won’t I, kitten?”         

Chapter Text

Though it’s been almost five full days since Jimin made promises about sharing you with Yoongi, nothing yet seems to have come of it, frustratingly enough.  It’s making you a little jumpy, unsure what to expect, too nervous to bring it up with Jimin in case he’s not quite ready yet, too worried in case he’s completely changed his mind.  You wouldn’t want him to think you’re being pushy or impatient but you really wish you had some kind of idea how he imagines this will work between the three of you.

Yoongi seems none the wiser too, so you presume Jimin must not have even mentioned it to him yet.  The sexual tension between the two of you is the same as it’s always been, and if he’d have known about Jimin’s concessions you’re fairly certain he would have acted on it by now. Sure, he’s a little more tactile when you go for your piano lessons at the start of every evening, but there’s nothing outrageous or inappropriate about his behaviour.  His fingers will brush against yours as they move along the piano keys, his thigh will press against yours hidden from view, he’ll stare into your eyes for just a little bit too long as the two of you talk.  Honestly, it’s killing you.  Knowing what Jimin said, knowing that you can but not knowing quite how is driving you crazy. 

You come to the conclusion that you’re just going to have to follow Jimin’s lead and try not to burst into a ball of sexually frustrated flames in the meantime; easier said than done when both of them look so good all the damn time.  It’s getting so bad that thoughts of having both of their hands on you at once are starting to invade your dreams, leaving you hot and sticky by the time you wake in more ways than one. 

Mercifully, the rest of the boys seem to be behaving themselves.  You’ve managed to avoid Namjoon completely since the last encounter you had and Tae has kept his hands – if not his eyes – to himself.  Jungkook’s little peepshow doesn’t seem to have come of anything either; though you haven’t quite found the right moment to leave his bandana anywhere for him to find.  You’re not sure how you would have survived if they’d have been lusting after you too.  

“Jimin,” you whisper softly, running your finger down the bridge of his delicate nose, trying to wake him up as peacefully as possible, “Daddy, wake up.”  Tonight’s the night of his birthday surprise and you need him to be up and dressed a little bit earlier than usual in order to make sure you’re there in time, so even though he’s reluctant to wake you have to keep trying.  You continue stroking his nose, shuffling up the bed till you can reach his cheeks with your lips to shower him with kisses until his eyes finally start to flutter open. 

“Hmm?” he groans, eyebrows knotting together in a frown as he blinks hard, “What time is it?” 

“Five,” you tell him, unable to keep the excited smile from your face.  You’ve been looking forward to this from the moment you booked it, so eager to know if he’ll like his surprise that you’ve been wishing the days away. 

“Five?” he repeats, suddenly far more awake than he was a few seconds ago – though not through choice.  “Kitten, you know I was out all night, why’re you waking daddy up so early?”  Despite his complaining Jimin still runs his hand through your hair, a smile appearing on his face when you pout up at him, your chin resting on the heels of your hands. 

“We're going out,” you smile, pleased by the way his eyebrows rise in genuine surprise.

“We are?” You nod, sitting yourself up in bed and Jimin pushes himself up on his elbows too, his bed hair sticking up at the back.  “Where?”  

“You'll find out,” you reply in a sing-song voice, revelling at being the one in the know for once.  You hop out of bed, full of energy, and then take hold of the corner of the covers and whip them back.  Jimin's unconcerned - he’s always cold anyway – but he is amused by the way you’re behaving, your mischievous smile making him smile back just as hard.  “C'mon, we have to be there before seven.”

“Is there a dress-code wherever ‘there’ is?” he asks, swinging his legs out of bed and then standing with a stretch.  The movement of his lithe body momentarily distracts you, memories of the way he felt between your legs last night flooding back to you, a slight blush filling your cheeks before you scold yourself for being so easily waylaid.  

“Just something nice.”  Then again, all his clothes look nice on him.  “Something smart, like a suit.”  You turn, bending down at your drawers before adding, “And wear a tie.”  Jimin’s leaning over to stroke Nova who's saying good morning by fussing around his ankles, but at your instruction he looks up, an eyebrow cocked.

“So bossy tonight kitten.”  You straighten up, towel in hand, just in time for Jimin to walk over and stand behind you, wrapping his arms around your waist and planting slow, teasing kisses along your shoulder.  “Do I need to remind you who’s in charge here?”  

“Jimin,” you squirm, giggling as his fangs brush against your throat, “We haven’t got time!”  

“I can be fast,” he murmurs, and you can feel his smile against your skin as he pushes himself against your behind.  You indulge him for a moment, circling your hips and biting your bottom lip, but then you wriggle out of his grasp with a smile, walking backward toward the bathroom. “Such a tease,” he growls, eyes narrowed but smiling, “You’ll pay for that later.”

“I hope so,” you smirk just before you shut the bathroom door on him.  

As soon as Jimin’s out of sight it’s much easier to focus, nervous excitement bubbling away in your stomach as you throw yourself in the shower and wash briskly, your hair as well as your body.  You’re out of there in record time, tucking the towel around yourself and wiping the steam off the mirror to dry and style your hair.  Once that’s done you go into the cupboard under the sink to retrieve the little package of make up you’d ordered and hidden away ready to be used tonight, applying a light coverage of foundation and powder.  Perfecting a smoky-eye takes you longer than both the shower and doing your hair combined, but it’s totally worth it for how you look by the end.  You’re not someone who ever particularly admires their own appearance, but even you can admit that you look pretty good.  Maybe it’s because you haven’t worn make up in so long.

You exit the bathroom with the towel still around you, noting that Jimin’s fed Nova while you’ve been gone.  He’s sat on the end of his bed now, doing something on his phone.  

“Shower’s free,” you announce, cocking your head in its direction.  Jimin looks up, his eyes immediately widening when he sees all the make up framing yours.  

“You’re wearing make up?” he asks, standing and coming closer to get a better look.  “Where’d you get that?”  You tap your nose secretively, smiling at him and Jimin smiles and shakes his head too. “So many secrets tonight...”

“Go, be quick,” you encourage, shooing him away.  You need him to leave so you can start to get dressed; you want your outfit to be a surprise too.  Jimin collects whatever he’s going to be wearing from his closet and then leaves you in peace to get ready, the sound of the shower running starting only moments after he shut the door.  

You'd already laid out you outfit, underwear included, in the bottom drawer days ago, hiding it under t-shirts and towels.  You’ve chosen a pretty longline bra and french knicker set to wear under the dress you ordered, and the material feels so soft against your skin as you slip then on.  The dress fits like a glove, too; a relief since this is the first time you’ve been able to try it on.  The only thing left is the new collar you bought.  You open up the box it came in and stand in the mirror to put it on, pleased to see that it looks as pretty in person as it did online.  Delicate chains of silver hang from its thick black band, tiny teardrop shapes stones of onyx dangling from each one.  It really finishes off the outfit, and just in time for Jimin to walk back in, too.  

God, he looks good in a suit.  His garnet-red jacket and black pants are finely tailored so they fit just right, emphasising his shoulders and trim waist, a slim black tie hanging from his neck, the knot loose enough that he can leave the top button of his white shirt undone.  One of his expensive-looking watched adorns his wrist, rings on his fingers, small hooped earrings hanging from his ears.  

You have to fight the urge to touch your chin to check if you’re drooling, but your expression much give away how in awe of him you are because a cocky little smile appears on his face as he walks towards you, his hands in his pockets.

“You scrub up well,” you admit – an understatement if ever there was one.  Jimin looks you up and down appraisingly, briefly biting his lip, smile turning into a full-blown smirk.  

“So do you,” he replies.  He reaches out a hand to touch the collar around your neck, fingertips trailing down the strands of silver and making you shiver. “I like this, kitten, very much.”  

“You do?” Your breath hitches in your throat, voice embarrassingly husky on seeing the lust that’s darkening his eyes.  He curls one arm around your waist and uses it to sharply pull you close, gazing down into your eyes.

“Are you sure we have to go out?” he murmurs as he presses his forehead to yours, your lips almost touching but not quite, his breath teasing as it ghosts across them.  “I can think of lots of fun things we can do right here.”

“I’m not sure we’d ever leave this room if you had your way,” you smirk, tapping your finger on the point of his nose.  

“Don’t act like you don’t love it,” he growls, eyes narrowing.  You give him a lingering kiss, one that his lips chase after as you pull away, only making you smile more.  It’s a refreshing change to feel like you’re the one in a position of power.

“C'mon, we're gonna be late.”  You place your hand over the one of his that’s holding your waist and link your fingers together to start pulling him from the room.  Jimin soon falls into step with you, giving your hand a tight squeeze and making you smile.  Every day he’s becoming increasingly affectionate with you, softer, more playful, and you love that he’s slowly opening himself up, allowing himself to be vulnerable even though he admitted himself that he’s scared.  It’s also becoming more and more difficult to resist telling him you love him when’s he’s acting so sweet all the time. 

Your heels click against the wooden floor of the entrance hall when you get there.  You’re relieved to see a car waiting outside on the driveway for you; Jin had promised to drive you both there after you’d told him all about the surprise.  Jimin’s about to get the front door for you when suddenly you hear another one open from behind you, and when you turn to look you see Yoongi walking into the hall too, heading from his bedroom to the living room presumably.

He stops dead when he sees the both of you, looking from Jimin first then back to you, his eyes widening slightly as he looks you up and down.  

“Going somewhere nice?” he asks.  He’s the only one you hadn’t told about Jimin’s birthday surprise, simply because you didn’t want to make him feel jealous or awkward, but now you sort of regret not mentioning it earlier.  

“I have no idea,” Jimin replies good-naturedly, pausing with his hand on the doorknob and Yoongi nods, his face impassive.  

“Well I hope you have a good time.”  You smile at him regardless of how insincere he looks, and you’re about to turn around when Jimin suddenly steps close and whispers in your ear.  

“Why don’t you give him a goodbye kiss?”  You pull back, your eyes widening as you try to figure out if he really said what you thought he did, your stomach twisting with excitement at the mere suggestion.  The corner of Jimin’s mouth quirks up into a smile as he subtly inclines his head in Yoongi's direction. “Go ahead, kitten.”

Swallowing hard you turn on the spot, Yoongi’s back turned to you as he walks toward the living room.  Even though you’re nervous and you have no idea how to actually go about this, you know that if you wait a few seconds more you’ll miss your chance entirely, and you really do want to kiss him.  It’s been so long.  

“Yoongi,” you call.  He stops and turns as you walk towards him, curiosity painted on his face.  When you come to stand in front of him you see his eyes flick in Jimin’s direction, licking hip lips nervously.  That bruise on his face is still there, so you can’t blame him for being uncomfortable with you standing so close with Jimin stood only a few metres away.  

“You look... incredible,” he tells you softly, pitching his voice low and quiet in the hopes the other doesn't hear, his hungry eyes drinking you in once again.

“Thank you,” you blush, thinking that he looks just as good without even trying, dressed in a red plaid shirt and tight grey jeans.  You swallow hard and take a deep breath, bracing yourself to make a move and then curl your finger through a belt loop of his jeans, slowly pulling him toward you until his hips meet yours.  Yoongi watches every movement holding his breath, confusion in his eyes.

Gongjunim?”  Flashing him a quick, reassuring smile you tilt onto your tip-toes so you can match his height, glancing at his thin, shapely lips before bravely covering them with your own.  You feel his body tense in surprise and you could guess that his eyes are probably still wide open, but within seconds he melts into it, his mouth starting to move with yours.  Both of his hands come up to cup your cheeks but then slowly slide their way back into your hair as you kiss, the feeling of his fingernails against your scalp making you let out a muffled moan.  You’d forgotten what a good kisser he is, the way he pours every ounce of feeling into it, his tongue lovingly caressing the inside of your mouth.

You’re breathless when you come up for air, both of you staring at each other with wide, lust-blown eyes, Yoongi’s chest heaving.  His hands are still in your hair, holding on like he daren’t let go.

“What-?”

“Maybe we can go out sometime too,” you smile, relishing the mix of utter confusion and elation on Yoongi’s face.  His mouth founders for a moment, once again glancing back at Jimin.  

“... I’d like that.”  

“Me too,” you whisper, reaching up to give him one last kiss before removing your hands from his belt and forcing yourself back to Jimin’s side.  You really will be late in a minute, especially if you carry on with Yoongi the way you’re longing too.  

“See you later, hyung,” Jimin cuts in, and when you look at his face he’s smiling hard.  He’s clearly finding Yoongi’s dumbfounded expression amusing, which is a much more favourable reaction than jealous rage, granted.  He pulls open the front door and as you step through it you send Yoongi a  tiny wave goodbye, giggling at the stupefied one he returns.  You feel Jimin slot his hand into your lower back just before he presses his lips to your forehead, guiding you towards the car where you can see Jin waiting, engine on and windows down.  

“Where were you?” he calls to you as you approach, tapping the watch on his wrist, “My driving’s gonna have to be pretty questionable to get you there on time.”

“Sorry Jin-hyung, it was my fault,” Jimin apologises as he holds the car door open for you, “I’m a bad influence on her,” he adds with a salacious smile to you, winking.

“I don’t even want to know...” you hear Jin mutter from the front as your door closes and then Jimin's opens, climbing in beside you.  Before you can clip in your belt he curls his arm around your waist and pulls you across the seats so you’re flush next to him, having to use the middle seatbelt whilst he neglects his entirely.  As soon as Jin hears the clip he glances at you in the mirror and then sets off, accelerating at an alarming pace as soon as he hits the road.  

You lean against Jimin's arm, looking out of the window and enjoying the way he’s gently squeezing the flesh of your waist but your mind drifting back to the kiss you and Yoongi just shared.  It’d felt so nice, so right, but like last time it’s just left you wanting more, the slight ache between your thighs evidence of that.  You don’t even realise you’re biting on your lip until Jimin pulls it from between your teeth with a knowing smile.  

“Did you enjoy that, kitten?” he asks quietly, obviously trying to make sure Jin doesn’t hear.  You nod, no longer afraid of sharing these desires with Jimin now that there’s this sense of openness between you two.  “I enjoyed it too.”  

“You did?” Your eyebrows rise in surprise; you’d thought that Jimin would be able to learn to tolerate sharing you, but actually enjoy it?  That’s more than you could have hoped for.  

“You tell me.”  He takes of your hand and presses it to the crotch of his pants with lust clouding his eyes, and sure enough you can feel the hard length of him swollen underneath the material.  “I love kissing you... but watching you is pretty fucking hot too.”  Jimin presses his forehead down to yours, staring into your eyes with such intensity that you start to feel hot all over, your breath shuddering as you exhale.  You still have his length under your palm, and even though you’re very aware of Jin in the front, you can’t help but give him a firm squeeze through his pants, loving the way his eyes press closed and the hiss that passes his lips.  

“Careful, kitten,” Jimin warns, savagely digging his fingers into your side, “If you keep doing that daddy will have to have you right here on the back seat.”  You know it’s supposed to stop you, but if anything Jimin talking like that just spurs you on and you palm him again, harder this time, flashing him a bratty smile.   He moans low in the back of his throat, so quiet you barely hear it.

“Please don’t,” Jin’s voice pleads from the front – clearly he did hear – and when you look through the gap in the seats you can see how tightly he’s gripping the steering wheel, his jaw clenched tight.  You don’t mean to, but embarrassment makes you burst out laughing, removing your hand from Jimin’s lap and sitting up slightly as Jimin smirks at his elder in the mirror.  

“Sorry oppa,” you giggle, the blush that had been colouring your cheeks starting to fade.  

“Don’t let him corrupt you,” Jin warns, though he’s smiling so you know he’s not entirely serious.  You feel it’s a bit late for that, really, but nonetheless you nod dutifully, trying to hold back more laughter.  

“Please do,” Jimin purrs into your ear, nipping on the lobe gently and this time you do laugh again, batting him away.

“Behave,” you scold, but Jimin makes no promises, simply pulling away with a cheeky smile and then looking out of the window, letting the rest of the journey pass in comfortable silence.  

Ten minutes later and you're in the city centre, fighting heavy traffic and stop signs to get to your destination, and you’re rather glad Jimin isn’t driving because he seems to suffer from a slight tendency towards road rage, muttering murderous curses under his breath whilst Jin remains perfectly calm in the front seat.  

“It’s just round the corner, get ready to jump out,” Jin warns and Jimin suddenly seems more alert, sitting up in his seat with excited eyes, eager to find out what surprise you have in store.  As soon as Jin pulls up to the curb both of you clamber out of the car into a crowd of pedestrians, Jin calling after you to have a good time as you close the car door.  

“Where are we going?” Jimin asks, slipping his hand into yours and letting himself be led by you, guiding him around the corner, smiling back at him and then finally coming to a stop in front of the glass-paned double doors of a theatre.  

“Here.”  Jimin’s eyes take in the entrance to theatre, travelling upward to the billboards above the doors that say ‘Romeo and Juliet’ in sweeping, fancy letters, images of graceful dancers in various lifts and turns around them.  You see the corner of his open mouth start to turn upward, a light starting to shine brightly behind his eyes, and when he looks back at you he seems utterly lost for words, positively beaming with joy.

“Happy Birthday Jimin.”  

Chapter Text

The look of childlike glee on Jimin’s face is a permanent fixture over the next two hours.  

“How did you do this?” he asks you as you find your seats, so innocently that it makes your heart feel like it’s splintering.  You can only smile at him, feeling as overwhelmed with emotion as he looks. The lights drop and the crowd falls silent, the orchestra starting to play a soft, delicate piano of string instruments as the curtains rise that morphs into something livelier as spotlights illuminate the stage.  

Two male dancers enter dressed in identical colours, their movements moving in parallel with each other, playful gestures and expressions telling the audience that these two are friends, brothers in arms.  Then two other men enter clothed in differing colours and the mood changes, the movement of the dancer’s limbs turning harsher, antagonistic towards the two that were there before.  You know the story; it’s the tale of the two warring sides, the Montegues and the Capulets, and so far they’re telling it perfectly.

You turn your face to the side to look at Jimin, wanting to make sure he’s enjoying it, but when you do you have to hold back a gasp at the beautiful sight that greets you.  He’s totally unaware of your adoring gaze, completely caught up in devouring the dancers every move, a look of total wonderment on his face.  The reflection of the stage lights is highlighting the sumptuous curve of his cheeks and making his eyes shine like precious stones.  You can’t believe this man is here with you, that his fingers are intertwined with yours, his thumb absent-mindedly tracing circles on the inside of your wrist despite his utter preoccupation.  How did you ever get so lucky?  

Truth be told you pay very little attention to the rest of the show from that point onwards, and some people might say that it’s a waste of money, but you’d pay it all over again just to watch the way Jimin's facial expressions ebb and flow during different parts of the story.  When it all comes to its tragic conclusion, the music reaching a spectacular crescendo as Juliet’s body falls atop of Romeo, two lovers locked in death's final embrace, you’re taken aback by the sight of tears staining his cheeks.  They fall unrestrained, drop after drop into his lap, and you can no longer keep yourself from touching him, no matter how it pains you to drag him out of the bubble he’s been in for the entirety of the performance.

You reach out and touch his cheek gently, rubbing tears away with your thumb and smiling tenderly when he startles, turning to you with parted lips and a shuddering exhale.  He can’t seem to being himself to speak, his eyes that are shining with so much moisture darting back and forth between your own as you take his other cheek in your hand and brush those tears away too.  The music starts to fade away and you see Jimin’s lips move as he utters your name; not kitten, not any other let name, just yours.  You tilt your head, a silent gesture of curiosity.

“I love you.” The words tumble from his lips in confession, your breath coming to standstill as you try to determine whether what you heard was real, your own lips parting in shock.  

He just told you he loves you, didn’t he?  Jimin... he loves you.  Something inside your chest soars, like a million birds taking flight, so choked with emotion that you can’t bring yourself to speak, your mouth moving uselessly, and just when the words are about to come out the curtain makes its final close.  Raucous applause drowns out anything you might have said, Jimin joining the others around you in giving the dancers a standing ovation.  You gaze up at him, this man that you love, wondering how on earth you're going to tell him that now the moment’s passed.  

Jimin is quiet as you leave the theatre, caught in introspection.  It’s ok though, because you’re lost in thought too, the cool chill of Jimin’s fingers linked through yours enough of a comfort despite his silence.  When you step out onto the pavement you both come to a standstill.

“What now?” Jimin asks, turning to you.

“It’s your birthday,” you smile, “Whatever you want.”  He looks thoughtful for a moment.

“We could go for something to eat.”

“You mean I can eat and you’ll watch,” you giggle, grinning up at him.  He smiles back, shrugging his shoulders.  

“I enjoy the smell.”  You both giggle at that and he gently presses his finger to the tip of your nose, the gesture so cute that your nose wrinkles in response.  “Besides, I like seeing you well fed.”

“You sound like you’re trying to fatten me up,” you joke as you both start walking, instinctively heading towards an Italian restaurant nearby that you know and love.  

“Maybe I am,” he grins, reaching down to take a firm handful of your ass that he squeezes firmly through your dress.  You laugh and roll your eyes, batting his hand away and calling him a pig, but really you don’t mind at all.  

It doesn’t take you long to get to the restaurant, and along the way Jimin starts to talk about the performance, gushing over the lead males enviable technique as you nod along.  You wish that you knew more about contemporary dance so you could debate the finer points with him, but Jimin seems content just to talk and you to listen, only running out of things to say once you’re seated and you’ve already ordered your main course.  

He falls silent, the excited smile he’d been speaking with leaving his face as he becomes more serious.  He slides his hand across the leather seat of the booth to find yours, taking it and lifting it onto the tabletop, joining them.  

“Thank you for tonight,” he begins, squeezing your hand, “This is the best night I’ve had in... ever.  Nobody has ever done anything like this for me before.”  It’s a crying shame that they haven’t; as far as you’re concerned Jimin deserves to be spoilt rotten every single day of his life.

Now would probably be a good time to tell Jimin what you were trying to in the theatre, but the moment you open your mouth the waitress decides to return with your lasagne.  It looks so delicious, the melted cheese practically dripping from the sides, that you’re completely distracted.  Even Jimin looks tempted by it, breathing in deeply as you slice through the pasta layers.

“That really does smell good,” he admits, sounding practically envious.  

“Tastes pretty damn good too,” you smile, pushing more onto your fork and blowing on it.  Delicious yes, but also hotter than the sun.  He smiles indulgently back at you, shucking off his jacket and lying it across the back of the booth while you continue to eat and then leaning his elbow on the table to rest his chin on his open palm, still smiling as he watches you.  

It takes you a moment to notice him doing it but when you do a blush rises on your cheeks, pausing with your fork hovering above your plate.

“What?” you ask, smiling nervously.

“You’re just beautiful when you’re happy.  More so than usual.”  He says it so easily, like it’s the most obvious thing in the world, and your blush only gets hotter.  “It just makes me regret hurting you the way I did before even more.”  You automatically know he’s referring to the incident after you first slept together, dropping his eyes to the table for a moment.  You put your fork down, food momentarily forgotten.  

“You’ve already explained about that Jimin, don’t feel like you have to keep apologising.” You slide yourself across the booth to sit next to him, pressing a reassuring kiss against his cheek. “Honestly, it’s forgotten.”  He looks back at you and you see his jaw clench and unclench as he pauses.

“I didn’t tell you everything.”  Your stomach drops, feeling like your food might come back up again as you instantly presume the worst, and Jimin must catch the look on your face because he quickly widens his eyes, shaking his head. “Oh, no, kitten, it’s nothing awful. It’s just... there’s a reason you calling me jagiya set me off the way it did.”  

“What is it?” you encourage, curious now.  

“Keep eating,” Jimin tells you firmly and you slide your plate over with a nod, eating the now cold mouthful obediently.  He watches you for a moment before finally swallowing and speaking. “I had a childhood sweetheart growing up.  We’d known each other since we were toddlers, our families were close, we went to the same schools... it was as natural as breathing to be with her.  I didn’t know anything else.”

Ah, so that’s what it was.  You’d thought there was probably some story of lost love behind Jimin's reluctance to let himself feel something for someone again, but you hadn’t wanted to push him to tell you anything before he was ready.  You’re glad he’s chosen to do it all on his own.  

“When we first found out that I was sick she made all these promises about how she’d stick by me.  She romantised it if anything, saying she wanted to marry me just in case anything were to happen, but this was all when I was still fairly healthy, still at home, still living a normal life.”  Jimin smiles a bitter smile.  “It didn’t last long once reality set in.  She’d never liked hospitals and always made excuses to avoid going with me to my appointments and my transfusions, and once I became a permanent inpatient it got even worse.  She started pulling away, her visits getting further and further apart until finally she just stopped coming.”   

He falls silent, swallowing hard as his fingers pick at the tablecloth restlessly.  How could anyone be so cold and callous as the abandon the person they supposedly love when they need them most?  They were both young, you suppose, but then youth can’t always be used as an excuse.  

“I’m really sorry, Jimin,” you say consolingly, putting down your fork and placing your hand on top of his.  He barely notices your gesture of comfort though; he’s starting to look angry rather than sad, clenching his jaw hard, his eyes that are looking into the distance going cold.

“Every day for two weeks I had to call before she finally answered me, and you know what she said to me?”  Jimin barely pauses for a second before he answers his own question.  “That I didn’t appreciate how hard it was for her, having a terminally ill boyfriend.  How stressful it was.  For her.”  He sneers as he says the words, and even though it was almost 30 years ago that it happened you can tell how deeply it hurt him then and how deeply it still hurts him now.  “Almost eight years she called me jagiya.   She might as well have been calling me a fool.”  

Now you completely understand why Jimin reacted the way he did to that word.  It’s difficult for you to imagine how self-centred this girl must have been to say things like that to him.  It’s such a total opposite way of thinking to yours that you simply can’t fathom it, and you find yourself feeling angry for Jimin as well, the back of your neck prickling with irritation.  

“She didn’t deserve you,” you tell him vehemently, squeezing the hand that you’re still holding.  He looks back to you, eyebrows pulled down into a frown as his jaw tenses again, the anger draining from his eyes and sadness replacing it.  

“I wasn’t the best boyfriend... With the illness I couldn’t do the things she wanted to do... take her to places she wanted to go...”

“But that wasn’t your fault,” you persist, shuffling yourself closer still and moving your hand off of his and onto his face, your heart aching at the look in his eyes, “You deserved better than her.  You deserve someone to make you smile and laugh and care about you and...”  You hesitate, swallowing, thumbing his plump cheek as he leans into your touch.  It’s a rare moment of weakness you’re seeing here, and it just makes you love him all the more for it.  “You deserve someone to really love you.”   The corners of Jimin’s mouth turn up into the smallest of smiles before he leans away from your touch, letting your hand drop.  

“What I said in the theatre…” Jimin begins, and you know he’s talking about his confession of love from the way he’s avoiding your eyes looking almost... nervous.  He picks up the knife and fork from your plate and starts to cut another small slice of lasagne for you whilst he speaks, “I know what we have isn’t… normal, by any stretch of the imagination.”  He lifts the fork to your lips.  “Eat.”  You obey, letting him feed you even though food is the very last thing on your mind right now.  “I don’t…” Jimin opens his mouth and then closes it again with a sigh, poking at your lasagne with the fork.  “What I’m trying to say is that I don’t expect you to feel the same way.  After the way I treated you I don’t-“ 

Jimin doesn’t get chance to finish his sentence because his next words are completely muffled when you throw your arms around his neck, crashing your lips into his and sending your fork crashing to the table.  You’re certain that people are probably staring but you couldn’t care less, far more concerned with letting Jimin know the true depth of your feelings for him than their judgemental stares.  You show him through the passion of your kiss and the press of your body against his, telling him with the soft moan you purr into his mouth when his tongue slips its way inside.  His arms coil around your waist to keep you close, your noses brushing as the kiss that started so urgently becomes slow and sensual.  The longer it goes on the more you can feel a growing heat between your legs so when Jimin pulls away you end up groaning with want, resting your forehead against his and biting your lip as he chuckles. 

“You keep teasing me like this kitten and I really will have to-“

“I love you,” you whisper, knowing that he’ll hear, looking up at him from under your eyelashes, that bottom lip of yours still caught between your teeth.  He blinks, mouth opening slightly like he doesn’t understand.  “Jimin, I love you,” you repeat, rubbing the tips of your noses together before gifting him one more kiss.  You pull away to look at him properly, smiling shyly and that smile only getting broader when a similar one starts to spread across Jimin’s face.

“You do?” His voice is breathy, full of wonder, the happiness in his eyes practically sparkling through at you when you nod in confirmation.  You end up laughing a little at just how ecstatic and sweet he looks, only to have all the air squeezed out of you a second later when he pulls you into a crushing hug. 

“You’ve made me so happy, kitten,” he murmurs into your hair, cradling the back of your head.  “I love you too.”  You stay like that for at least a good minute, squeezing each other so tight that you know Jimin will be able to feel your love-struck heart pounding hard through your chest into his.  Maybe if he had a beating heart you’d be able to feel it racing too. 

He pulls away just enough to look in your eyes, his hands tracing the curve of your waist.

“I’ll do my best to make you happy too,” he tells you solemnly, expression deadly serious.  You smile disbelievingly; can’t he see how much he already does that without even trying?   “I’ll always take care of you, I promise.”

“Jimin, you really don’t need to make all these promises,” you chastise gently, your own hands now under the table, resting on Jimin’s thigh that’s closest to you. 

“I do,” he insists, “I want to.”  You just smile back at him with a shake of your head, amused by his stubbornness but finding it sweet nonetheless.  It’s nice to have someone want to take care of you as much as he does; you’d been living on your own for so long you’d forgotten what it was like to have anyone but yourself looking out for your welfare.  “Finish your meal, kitten,” Jimin tells you, retrieving the fork he dropped from across the table and handing it back to you, clearly intending to start as he means to go on when it comes to ensuring your health.  “You’ve lost weight since we first met.”  You see his eyes drift over your body with a frown as you turn back to your lasagne.

You know he’s right; this dress you bought is a size down from what you were wearing before, and you’d noticed the clothes he’d first bought you getting a little baggier.  You hadn’t thought to let it bother you though because you feel healthier than ever, and as far as you were concerned you could have done with losing a couple of pounds to begin with.

“I don’t know how,” you say just before you take another mouthful, “Not with the stuff Jin’s been feeding me.” 

“Maybe it’s all the extra exercise,” Jimin replies, and it isn’t until you look to him, mouth full, and see his winking face plastered with a cheeky smile that you realise what ‘exercise’ it is that he’s referring to.  You blush at his teasing, and that blush only gets deeper when you feel Jimin’s hand encroach on your thigh.  He makes full use of the split in your skirt, placing his hand straight onto bare skin and squeezing gently to draw a gasp from your lips. 

How on earth are you supposed to concentrate on eating when he’s being so utterly distracting, that knowing smile playing on his full lips?  You try your hardest to focus on your lasagne, taking another mouthful but then almost inhaling it when his hand starts to move, his delicate fingertips starting brushing along the inside of your thigh.   They dance tantalisingly upward, just enough to get you squirming in your seat before skirting lower again, Jimin’s smile growing with each and every time you wriggle in your seat.  The pretty french knickers you’re wearing are starting to cling to your core with the wetness collecting there and knowing that Jimin will be able to smell it only makes the problem worse, your core aching with want. 

Your put your fork down with a sigh that sounds decidedly needy, your appetite well and truly diminished. 

“What’s wrong, kitten?  Not hungry anymore?” Jimin teases, grabbing at the fleshy inside of your thigh bruisingly hard, using his grip to pull the legs you’d been clenching together apart under the table.  You’re so glad you’re in a quiet part of the restaurant and that the tables have long tablecloths; at least you’re relatively hidden from view when Jimin decides to skirt his fingertips along the seam of your underwear. 

“Not for lasagne,” you reply breathily, hiding your red face in the crook of his neck and planting kisses on every inch of skin you can get to.

“You want daddy’s fingers right here?”  he asks huskily, his mouth pressed to your ear.  His fingers start to rub against the outside of your arousal soaked underwear, the material he’s pushing between your folds the only thing that’s stopping them from slipping inside you.  “Always so eager for me, aren’t you?  I bet you’d let me fuck you right here if I wanted to, hm?  We could show everyone how well you take my cock.”  You whimper pathetically as a fresh wave of arousal throbs through you, your hands finding their way onto the lapels of Jimin’s jacket to grab on tight, brushing your lips against his and whimpering again; soft, sweet noises that have him grunting when he hears them. 

“Take me home,” you plead against his mouth, your hips shifting all of their own accord, searching for more friction, “I need you now.  Please.”  You feel Jimin’s lips curl into a smile as he hums in approval.  When he pulls his body away from yours he removes his hand too, his pupil’s blown wide with desire as he undresses you with his eyes. 

“Seeing as you asked so nicely.”  You nod eagerly, reluctantly letting go of his jacket as he starts to rise from the booth, pulling his wallet from his back pocket to go settle the bill.  It’s a good job he’s wearing dark pants; his erection wouldn’t be that obvious unless you were actively looking for it – like you are.  Jimin catches you staring, smirking when you look back up at him.  

“I’m just gonna go to the bathroom,” you tell him, rising too and fighting the urge to grimace at just how much of a state your underwear is in.  You need to do something about that. 

“Don’t go cleaning up too much,” he warns, flicking his tongue out to lick his lips salaciously, his eyes fixed on your pelvic region.  God, what you wouldn’t give to have that tongue on you right now…  “And don’t you dare go touching yourself either, kitten.”  You nod obediently, loving the aura of dominance radiating from him. 

Satisfied with your compliance Jimin leaves the table whilst you hurry off to the toilets where you try to make yourself at least a little more comfortable for the drive home.  You’re so glad that you’d told Jin that you’d catch a taxi home; the thought of subjecting him to more illicit activities between you and Jimin has you smiling to yourself in the bathroom mirror as you wash your hands, remembering just how mortified he’d look earlier this evening. 

When you return into the restaurant you spy Jimin from across the room.  He’s stood at the bar looking down at his phone, thumbs tapping the touchscreen at a rapid pace – none of which you would have found suspicious if it weren’t for the way he quickly locks the display and shoves it into his jacket pocket as soon as he sees you coming.  What’s he up to…? 

“Better?”  he asks with a grin as you move to his side, one of his arms coming to rest snugly around your waist.

“Barely.” 

It doesn’t take long for the two of you to hail a taxi to take you home.  You’d half expected Jimin to be all over you in there too, but strangely enough he doesn’t pull you to sit in the middle this time, keeping his distance enough to do something on his phone at least two or three more times during the journey without you being able to see.  It makes you a little nervous, although you’re fairly certain it’s nothing too untoward because he still holds your hand and sends you soft smiles every few minutes.  You let it go, thinking instead about those three little words you said to each other earlier, happiness swelling inside you as you replay it over and over in your head. 

Things start to heat up again as soon as you get home.  By the time you’ve reached Jimin’s door you’re giggling against each other’s lips as he grabs at your ass, pulling your hips into his roughly, and you’re almost as wet again as before you visited the bathroom at the restaurant earlier.  

“You’ve been so good to daddy tonight,” Jimin murmurs against your lips as you kiss, reaching behind himself for the doorknob to let you into his bedroom.  “Such a good girl.”  You palm his erection through his pants, nipping at his bottom lip, so eager that you’re going to start undressing him in the hallway if he doesn’t start hurrying the hell up.  “I think you deserve a reward.”  Jimin pushes the door open behind him, walking back through it and placing his hands on your shoulders to detach himself from you; much to your confusion and dismay.  You look questioningly at him, breathing heavy, and it isn’t until Jimin flicks his eyes to the side with a smile that you actually take in anything else about the room you’re standing in.  There’s a black-haired boy sat on the edge of Jimin’s bed with his hands clasped together in his lap, tonguing the inside of his cheek nervously as he locks eyes with you. 

“Yoongi?” 

Chapter Text

As soon as Yoongi recognises that shock on your face that his presence generates his expression turns equally surprised, both his eyebrows rising as he turns to look at Jimin.

“You didn’t tell her?” he asks accusingly, sounding annoyed.  You look back and forth between the two of them, feeling completely out of the loop and even more confused when you see the smirk on Jimin’s face. 

“Where’s the fun in that?”  Again your head turns from side to side, Jimin smiling, Yoongi scowling and you stuck in the middle with your heart galloping with anxiety. 

“What’s going on?” you question as Jimin starts to strip from his jacket and throws it over the back of the armchair in the corner.

“I told you kitten,” Jimin purrs as he sinks into the seat, crossing one leg over the other, “Good girls get rewards.  You want daddy to share, daddy will share.”  Your mouth pops open in surprise, eyes immediately darting to look across at Yoongi.  He’s not looking at you, though, he’s looking over his shoulder at Jimin with a mocking smile.

“Daddy?” he scoffs scathingly.  Your face flushes with embarrassment as Jimin’s eyes darken, tilting his chin down to glare at the other vampire from across the room. 

“It’s Sir to you in here, Yoongi.”  Seriously?  You have to hold back a gasp at the words that come from Jimin’s mouth.  Even in the short amount of time you’ve lived with them you know it’s extremely disrespectful for Jimin to have dropped the ‘hyung’ honorific, nevermind ask Yoongi to call him Sir.

“Excuse me?”  Yoongi growls, his whole body tensing in anger.  Jimin doesn’t look concerned.  The corner of his mouth twists into a smile, in fact. 

“Do you want to fuck her, or not?”  Jimin asks cockily, slanting his head in your direction.  Yoongi’s eyes dart to take in your form, flicking up and down as he licks his lips uncertainly before finally answering a husky,

“Yes.”

“Yes what?” Jimin persists, the amusement clear in his voice.  Yoongi glowers again, chewing on the inside of his cheek before biting out a reply. 

“Yes, Sir.”  The tension in the air is palpable, and it isn’t until silence has fallen in the room that you become suddenly aware of how loud your breathing is, short little pants of air dragging back and forth between your lips. 

Both of their eyes are on you, undressing you where you stand from where they sit, and you’re so cripplingly nervous.  You’ve only just started sleeping with one guy, nevermind two.  How does this work?  What are you supposed to do?  Are they waiting for you to do something? 

“Why don’t you start by taking that pretty little dress off, kitten?”  Jimin prompts, as if reading your fretful thoughts.  You give a short nod, looking down at your feet as you step out of your shoes with wobbly knees, pressing your lips together to try not to breathe so hard.  There’s nothing you can do to hide the shaking of your hands as you reach for the zip of your dress, though.  As you slowly slide it down you pick your eyes up off the floor to glance at Yoongi; he looks entranced by the sight of your halting striptease.  His lips are parted as he watches you, his own eyes widening slightly as you slip your arms out of the dress and then shimmy it down to pool at your feet, both of you swallowing hard.

“Good girl,” Jimin praises, pulling your attention back to him.  He’s leant back in the chair and runs a hand through his hair as his hips shift, finding a more comfortable position for his growing erection.  “Isn’t she beautiful, Yoongi?”  Yoongi nods once, shortly and sharply, his eyes still fixed on you.  “She looks even better with nothing on at all.”  

You take that as your cue to take off your bra, your hands quickly reaching behind your back to fiddle with the clasp. It’s not usually something you find difficult but of course right now, with your quaking fingers and sweaty palms, it seems like an almost impossible task.  Eventually you slip it off, letting it fall to the floor too as you avoid both their eyes and hook your thumbs into the waistband of your knickers.  You pause, taking a deep breath to steady yourself before you pull them down too.  You’re so wet that a string of arousal stretches between your core and your underwear as they fall, and you know the tops of the inside of your thighs are glistening with wetness; you can feel it as you straighten up and clench them together.  It’s so hard to stand there and have them look at you the way they are.  Body confidence has never been something you’ve possessed, but seeing the way they both look at you so hungrily makes you start to believe that you must be something desirable, at least to them, so stand tall you do. 

“You were right,” Yoongi states in agreement with Jimin’s earlier statement, his voice thick with lust as he takes in the way your nipples are becoming more and more erect under his stare. 

“Why don’t you go sit on Yoongi’s lap, kitten?  Show him how pretty you are up close.”  Yoongi’s eyes flick to Jimin like he can’t quite believe the other’s generosity, but he soon gets with the program as you take your first steps towards him.  He shimmies back on the bed so that his back meets the headboard, sat bolt upright, his chest rising and falling heavily as you crawl onto the bed with him.  He’s clenching the sheets on either side of him and breathing hard as you kneel by his side with a coy smile, his eyes darting around like there’s too much to look at all at once.  Yoongi looks almost as nervous as you, and recognising it almost helps you feel a little braver. 

“Can I?”  you ask softly and he quickly nods, his Adam’s apple bobbing up and down in his throat.  You climb astride him, holding onto the headboard as you slowly lower your naked core onto his lap, ruining his black sweatpants with the arousal that’s practically dripping from you.  Yoongi lets go of the sheets and you feel his hands come to rest on the slope of your back, where the planes of muscle and bone curve into soft flesh of your buttocks.

“Are you ok, gongjunim?”  he asks quietly, and you know he’s not just asking about your general wellbeing.  He’s asking if you’re ok with this, this situation you’ve been thrown into with no warning to speak of, and knowing that he cares so much only makes you hotter for him.  Instead of answering with words you give him a kiss that’s harsh and hungry and tells him everything he needs to know, one that he returns with equal enthusiasm.  He quickly flicks his tongue against the entrance of your mouth and then slides it inside to brush against yours when your lips instantaneously part.  Your hips automatically shift on his lap as you kiss, searching for friction, and when he feels you move Yoongi groans into your mouth, his grip on you getting even tighter.

He pulls away just enough to start leaving bruising kisses along your jaw, pulling on your ass to move you again, grinding you against his sweats and the hard erection you can feel underneath.  You tilt your head back, eyes opening, and the very first thing you see is Jimin sat in the corner.  He’s watching the two of you with hooded eyes, palming the crotch of his pants and biting his bottom lip, and when he sees you looking at him he flashes you a daring smile that has you moaning with need. 

“What’s wrong kitten?” he asks as Yoongi drags his teeth across your skin, too busy with worshipping every inch of you to pay much attention to the conversation you’re having  Your hips circle again, whimpering at the feel of the rough material against your clit, and Jimin soon understands what the problem is.  “You want Yoongi to touch you?”  You nod helplessly.  You’ve seen the way Yoongi’s skilful hands dance along a line of piano keys, and just the thought of having his long, slender fingers inside of you makes you feel like you might cry if it doesn’t happen soon.  “You better get him to ask me for permission then.”  Oh, Jimin’s enjoying this too much, the sense of power getting him just as hard as watching you writhe on the other man’s lap. 

Yoongi is obviously listening more than you thought because when Jimin says that he suddenly ceases his kisses and rests his forehead against yours, only millimetres between your lips as he gazes into your eyes and thickly utters,

“Let me touch her.”  You hear Jimin snarl a growl from the corner and Yoongi’s eyes briefly pressed closed in irritation before he adds, “Please Sir.”  He doesn’t wait for Jimin’s confirmation, knowing that the submission of his words will have granted him all the permission he needs.   He places his hands on the inside of your thighs, your foreheads still touching so he can watch your reaction as he drags his thumbs through the wetness smeared across the inside of your thighs.  “She’s so wet, Jimin-ah,” Yoongi admires breathily, turning his head to look at the other and making Jimin smile when he quickly adds, “Sir.” 

“Yoongi,” you whine, detaching your fingers from the headboard and sliding them up into his hair, tugging gently to urge him on. 

“Better give her what she wants, Yoongi, before she crawls into my lap instead,” Jimin smirks from your side, “You love cumming on daddy’s fingers, don’t you, kitten?”   A naughty smile spreads across your lips as you tilt your head to look at him, biting your lip as you watch him squeeze himself through his pants. 

Your wavering attention must make Yoongi jealous because in the next breath he steals it back, sliding a finger into you roughly.  It’s so abrupt and unexpected that it makes you yelp, your body jerking as it’s breached, turning back to face him with wide eyes.  Now it’s Yoongi that’s smirking as you quickly start to gasp and moan when he adds a second finger to the first.   His fingers are so much longer than Jimin’s, reaching places you’ve never been touched before, thrusting in deeply, wetness squelching with the movement of his hand. 

“I think you like mine better, don’t you gongjunim?”  Yoongi purrs into your ear so only you can hear, his smirk growing when he feels your walls clench around his fingers as they curl inside, toying with your g-spot.  You’ve been so turned on for so long tonight that it takes barely any time at all for Yoongi to work you to the edge of an orgasm, your breath and thighs starting to shake, even more of your juices staining his lap and mixing with his own growing patch of pre-cum.   “I’ve been dreaming about you cumming on my fingers,” he groans against your cheek, movements getting rougher, more insistent, “On my tongue.”  You’re getting so close, your hips working with the motion of his hand, chasing your orgasm, out of your mind with pleasure.  “On my cock.” 

“Yoongi,  Yoong- I’m… I’m so close- don’t stop, don’t stop,” you ramble, pulling at the back of his hair. 

“Don’t you cum yet, kitten.” Jimin’s commanding tone suddenly slices through the haze of pleasure clouding your mind.  Your eyes open, turning your head to look at him as Yoongi’s fingers slow but don’t entirely stop, feeling confused as to why he’s denying you – he usually loves to watch you cum.  That’s with him though, not with Yoongi, and as he smiles teasingly back at you, you realise that this is all part of the game that he’s playing, part of flexing the control he has over the two of you.  You look back to Yoongi, pleading with your eyes, but by the way the corner of his mouth twitches into a smile you get the feeling he’s sort of enjoying this too, sliding his fingers out of you and brushing them against your clit on the way to his mouth to noisily suck them clean with a quiet groan.   You’re not close anymore, but your core is aching unbearably, so empty that it almost hurts.  “I think she needs fucking, Yoongi,” Jimin suggests, and the next moment you hear the clink of his belt buckle being flipped open, “Don’t you?”  Your eyes widen, your core clenching as you try to work out who exactly is going to be stretching you open first.  You see Yoongi look to Jimin, clearly trying to ascertain the same thing.  Something is exchanged wordlessly between them in a matter of seconds, something that makes a dirty, eager smile spread across Yoongi’s face.  

“Yes sir,” he agrees, grabbing a hold of the hem of his white t-shirt and pulling it up and over his head, tossing it off the bed.  You’ll never stop being captivated by just how pale and slim Yoongi’s torso is, your eyes raking over his body and widening when he lifts his hips just enough from the bed to yank his sweats down.  He wasn’t wearing any underwear underneath, and realising that now turns you on even more than before, your mouth practically watering as you take in the sight of his cock standing tall against his stomach.  He’s longer than Jimin there, too, though not as wide, the entire tip shining with pre-cum.  Yoongi kicks off his sweats so you’re both completely naked on Jimin’s bed, placing his hands on your hips and pausing to tilt his head despite how desperate he is to get inside you.  “Are you sure, gongjunim?” he asks softly.

“Yes,” you answer without hesitation, your voice needy and breathy, your hands resting on the solid expanse of his bare stomach, “Please.”  Yoongi kisses you, sweeter than before, pulling on your hips to get you to lift up from his lap so he can align himself against your folds, pushing down just enough to let the tip nudge inside as he hisses with pleasure.  “Please,” you repeat needily, your walls clenching inside in anticipation of him filling you up.  He lowers you onto his cock, being heartbreakingly slow and gentle, your moan of gratification getting swallowed up his mouth.  

“You’re so beautiful,” Yoongi whispers against your lips when you’re fully seated on him, lavishing you with praise while you become accustomed to the size of him, “I’ve wanted this for so long… princess, gongjunim, you feel so good around me.”   You open your eyes to look back into his, momentarily distracted from the ache in your groin by the ache in your chest that starts the second you see the absolute adoration written all over his face.  His hands caress your hips gently, kissing you again, slow and full of meaning. 

“Move, kitten,” Jimin commands, dragging your attention away from Yoongi’s lips.  He’s leant back in the armchair, shirt and pants open, stroking his cock with long, firm strokes.  “I want to see you bounce on Yoongi’s cock like the little slut you are.”  The dirty talk spewing from Jimin’s mouth has both you and Yoongi groaning simultaneously, Yoongi’s hips automatically flexing upward to bury himself deeper in your heat.  The juxtaposition of Yoongi’s softness and Jimin’s dominance has never been more apparent than in these last few minutes, but honestly you can’t get enough, totally besotted with the both of them.  “Move,” Jimin barks again when you fail to start fast enough. 

You’ve never been on top before – Jimin’s usually always on top, dominating you with the sheer weight of his body pressed on yours, or taking you roughly from behind, bent over or on all fours – so you’re not entirely sure what to do or how to move.  You soon figure it out though, Yoongi helping you by tilting your hips forward so you’re leant forward with your breasts pressed to his chest, giving him enough room to slide you back and forth on his cock from underneath, doing all the work for you.   You loop your arms around his shoulders, holding on tight, moaning breathily in his ear as he brushes against all the right places inside. 

“Does that feel good?”  Yoongi checks, pulling out almost entirely and then sliding his length all the way back in, no urgency to speak of behind any of his movements. 

“Yes,” you mewl, starting to push your hips back against him too as you find a rhythm together.  You straighten up, gasping as the change of position pushes him even deeper inside, noticing the barely contained lust in Yoongi’s eyes.  He’s holding back for you, you realise, simultaneously realising that you don’t want him to.  You quicken the pace of your hips, grinding yourself down on him hard, biting your lip, hoping that he’ll get the message, and sure enough he does. 

“I think she wants it harder, Sir,” he smirks to Jimin, wrapping his arms around your waist, “Can I give it to her?” 

“Do it,” Jimin groans back, and you can tell from the wet sounds coming from his corner that he’s fisting his cock harder now.  The next time Yoongi pushes into you it’s not a slide, it’s a slam, his hips snapping upward as he pulls you down onto his cock roughly.  You cry out, clutching onto his shoulders as he begins a merciless pace, fucking up into you from underneath.  “You like that, kitten?  You like getting fucked by Yoongi?”  Your only replies are the stilted moans that judder out of you with every thrust, too overwhelmed to form any words that make sense. 

Yoongi grunts as he feels your fingernails dig into his back, one hand tangling into your hair and using it to pull your mouth to his to kiss you just as roughly, his teeth finding your bottom lip and biting hard.  Being denied your orgasm earlier makes this one build twice as fast, and you must only be minutes in when your walls start to contract, your stomach knotting as it fast approaches, clinging onto Yoongi for dear life. 

“Not yet, kitten, you’re not cumming until I say you can,” Jimin tells you breathily, struggling to speak just as much as you are.  You can feel Yoongi getting harder and harder inside you too, his cock throbbing, and you know he’s getting close too. 

“I’m not gonna last,” he warns Jimin through gritted teeth, slamming up into you savagely, “Let her cum, Jimin, Sir, she feels too fucking good.” 

“Please, daddy, please,” you sob, your forehead pressed to Yoongi’s shoulder, biting your lip with the effort it’s taking to hold back, the pressure in your core starting to reach breaking point no matter how hard you try.  You want to be good for him, you do, but you really don’t think you can last much longer. 

“Just a minute more, gongjunim, hold on,” Yoongi coos into your ear, slowing his pace a little and caressing your waist soothingly, but by this point it doesn’t help at all.  You’re about to fall over the edge, and nothing you can do will stop it from happening. 

“Please!” you plead once more, and on hearing the desperation in your voice Jimin finally grants you your wish.  You cum on Yoongi’s next thrust, your body convulsing with pleasure as you cry out, the sheer strength of your orgasm milking Yoongi’s out of him too.  His hips stutter up into you, painting your insides with his cum as he allows himself to finish, his breathing ragged and wrecked. 

“Are you alright?”  Yoongi pants against your hair, both of your chests heaving as he holds you close.

“She better be,” you hear Jimin answer for you.  You sit up, peeling your hair back from your sweaty forehead and looking to Jimin’s corner only to watch him stand and strip from his clothes, a dangerous look on his face.  His cock looks painfully swollen, the head of it angry and red, and as he straightens up from pushing down his pants he wraps his fist around it, stroking himself as he walks toward the two of you.   You feel Yoongi’s softening member twitch inside you, equally excited at the prospect of this not yet being over.  “It’s daddy’s turn.”      

Chapter Text

Jimin’s turn?

You’ve barely recuperated from your last orgasm, and now the silver-haired vamp is kneeling onto the bed and coming toward you with promises of more to come in his lust-darkened eyes.  As soon as he's close enough Jimin grabs you by the shoulder and uses his grip to pull you off of Yoongi’s lap and back into the bed, your back hitting the mattress with a thud, head sinking into the pillow with a gasp.  Yoongi's now sat next to you rather than underneath you and he’s watching closely as Jimin takes hold of your knees and pulls you legs apart to kneel between them, his eyes fixing on your core as soon as it’s exposed.  

“Oh kitten,” he coos, tone teasing, “You're making such a mess.”  

You can feel a combination of your own juices and Yoongi's cum dribbling out of you onto the sheets, warm and wet as it slides down between your buttocks.  You'd already been aware of it, but when Jimin points it out you flush scarlet, mortified, squirming your hips but unable to hide because of his persistent grip on your knees.  “Yoongi filled you up well, didn’t he?”  

Your eyes that had been closed dart up to meet Yoongi’s, your blush getting hotter when you see him licking his lips like he wants to have a taste. “Did you like taking his cum, kitten?”  You nod, keeping your eyes on Yoongi and feeling your core clench at the fire your nod puts in his eyes.  

Suddenly Jimin grabs hold of your chin and forces your eyes straight, yanking your head round to look at only him.  

“Look at daddy when he’s speaking to you,” he snarls, all gentleness so far removed from his face that it’s difficult to remember what it ever looked like to begin with.  You like this side of Jimin though.  It’s when he acts like this that you remember what he truly is; a powerful vampire that could kill you as soon as look at you if he wanted to. Why the hell does that turn you on so much?

Jimin lets go of your chin and climbs on top of you, his hard member pressing into the inside of your thigh as his chest meets yours and his lips meet your neck.  His mouth skirts around the edge of your elaborate new collar, fangs pointing against your skin just enough to make you gasp but never piercing through as he playing with your nipple roughly, tugging it hard enough to make your back bow up off the mattress.  

The next time you open your eyes you see Yoongi looking down at you, watching with fascination at the way being almost bitten has you writhing with pleasure already.  Jimin's mouth travels further southward, down between the valley of your breasts and then onto the nipple he’d just been abusing with his fingers.

“Jimin!” you gasp when he bites that too, your skin prickling all over from too much stimulation, your empty core throbbing with the want to be filled again.  He looks up at you, his tongue caught between his teeth and a smirk on his face.

“Shall we see how much cum this pretty little pussy can take?” Jimin purrs, fingers sliding teasingly through your folds.  You wish he’d slip his fingers inside, but you know there’s absolutely no reason for Jimin to waste time prepping you when he could be fucking you.  Yoongi’s cock has stretched you out for him already, his cum lubricating the way for Jimin to crawl up your body again and enter you with no warning and just one savage snap of his hips.   Your eyes open up wide, lips parting with a hitched breath as he slams inside, grabbing onto the sheets to keep your body from bucking.  

“Fuck, you’re still so tight for me." Jimin’s got his eyes closed, his face hovering above yours as he supports himself on his elbows and fucks into you with those powerful hips, biting his lip as he gets lost in the feeling of your walls clenching around his cock.  Jimin’s definitely thicker than Yoongi; even though you’d just had the other man inside you it had still hurt when Jimin pushed inside, but it’s a burn you’re coming to know and love.  

You pick your legs up off the bed and bend them back as far as you can around him, soon having learnt that it lets him bury himself even deeper inside; something that feels just as good for him as it does for you.  

“Feels so good daddy,” you whine, turning your head to the side and onto the pillow.  

“Then moan for me louder, kitten,” Jimin commands with a particularly hard thrust of his hips, “Show Yoongi how much you love taking daddy's cock.”  Your eyes open to look at Yoongi’s face as you slacken your jaw to let all the sounds you'd been holding back come pouring out.  His pupils are blown wide with lust, darting from your face to the small gap between yours and Jimin's body where you know he’ll be able to see the other man’s cock when it pulls out only to slam back home a second later.   You realise Yoongi’s stroking himself now too, his member fully hardened again, and you find yourself licking your lips during your next moan, suddenly wishing you had him inside you too.  

As always, Jimin seems to read your thoughts.

“Maybe you can take us both one day, huh?” Jimin pulls out completely for a second only to press the blunt tip of his cock against your asshole, just enough to make the ring of muscle automatically clench at the threatened intrusion and your hips jump off the mattress, “Would you like that kitten?”  He slides back into you with a low groan that rumbles at the back of his throat. “Yoongi pounding this pussy whilst daddy wrecks your ass?”  

Yoongi clearly loves the idea because the most wanton, needy moan comes spilling from his mouth as he throws his head back against the wall, his free hand finding its way into your hair as he tugs on his cock.  You love it too, just hearing the words making you feel like you’re about to cum.  You can’t even imagine how full you'd feel with of them inside you at once, but you’re suddenly desperate to find out.  

“Please daddy, Yoongi, please,” you plead, grabbing onto Jimin’s shoulder as your other hand reaches for Yoongi, finding his thigh and digging your nails into it so hard that he hisses.  

“Soon, kitten, not tonight,” Jimin soothes, slowing his pace, knowing that you’re getting close and wanting to make sure he lasts as long as you need him to.  The way you’re squirming around on the end of his cock has him feeling like he could cum any second, so painfully hard inside of you.  

“Fuck, yes,” Yoongi agrees from beside you, perfectly articulating how enthusiastic you feel too knowing that clearly isn’t going to be a one night thing.  

“Just cum for me.”  Jimin picks up the pace again, reaching between your legs to plant his thumb on your clitoris, stimulating it with enthusiastic circles.  Not that you needed it; you’ve been on the edge for what feels like forever.  You’re about to cum, the fire in your pelvis ready to explode when you realise exactly what it is that you want right know; what would make this night complete.  

“Bite me,” you ramble breathily, repeating it again, trying to hold back, wanting to save it until the moment his fangs sink into your throat.  You look up at Jimin and savour the momentary look of surprise on his ruined face and the way he glances nervously at Yoongi.  

“Jimin, fuck, do it,” Yoongi groans, his hand leaving your hair and quickly undoing the clasp of your choker when you turn your head to the side to grant him access.  He throws it across the room, leaving your throat bare for both their eyes to devour, Jimin’s efforts brought to a momentary standstill.   You know if Yoongi weren’t here Jimin would already be feeding from you, but the taboo of it is making him hesitate.  “Give her what she wants.”  Yoongi’s growling, squeezing the base of his cock to stop himself from cumming out right, his eyes darker than you’ve ever seen them before.  He’s only a second away from feeding on you himself, you can tell, and it’s realising that that seems to spur Jimin back into action.  

His starts thrusting into you with a new fervour, grabbing onto the back of one of your thighs and shoving it backward to get deeper, nuzzling his face in the crook of your neck.  His lips and tongue and teeth are all over your throat, Yoongi’s breath shaking next to you as he watches on, eager to see Jimin do what he’s longing for himself, and just the anticipation of it has your orgasm coming on thick and fast, your whole body throbbing with pleasure.  

“She’s gonna cum, Jimin,” Yoongi moans, recognising the ecstasy on your face that he'd committed to memory when he’d watched you come undone on top of him less than half an hour ago.  The moment the words leave Yoongi’s lips you do, a cry garbling out of you as Jimin’s fangs slice into your skin, your hands tangling greedily in his hair.  Pleasure overwhelms you, your orgasm contracting all your muscles and the endorphins from his bite relaxing them moments after, your whole body becoming lax, sinking blissfully into the mattress.  He drinks greedily from you as he cums, hot and thick and warm, groaning around a mouthful of your blood.  

“Jimin,” you hear Yoongi say urgently, “Sir, can I please... let me cum inside again, please, god she looks so good with all that cum coming out of her.”  You’ve no say at this point, too dizzy and fucked out to string words together as you feel Jimin slide out and lie at your side.  He grabs your hip to turn you onto your side facing him as Yoongi presses against your back.  His longer fingers take hold of your leg and lift it upward so that he can enter you from behind with a moan.  You mewl with overstimulation as Yoongi uses your pussy to get off, the seat of his lap slapping against your ass as he fucks you frantically, Jimin kissing your lips and stroking your hair comfortingly.  

“Such a good girl,” he murmurs against your mouth, the taste of blood on his tongue, “You’ve been so good for us.”

“Shit,” Yoongi curses, obscene sounds coming from between your legs as his cock sloughs through the combination of their cum inside you, the words spilling from him just as lewd.  “Fuck, gongjunim , cum again, one more time, just once more for me, fuck.”  

“Go on kitten, one more,” Jimin eggs on, reaching down between your legs to rub your clitoris as Yoongi's cock slips back and forth.  You’re barely conscious yet somehow the combination of their efforts somehow manages to get you there again, but this time Yoongi breaks first.  His hips stutter, fingertips bruising the thigh he’s holding as he shoves his head between your shoulder blades to keep himself away from the smear of blood still lingering on your neck.  It’s too tempting, too hard not to sink his teeth in too if he can smell it, so as he cums for the second time it's your back that smothers his moans while Jimin’s mouth swallows yours only a minute later, his fingers doing the last of the work to get you off.  

Yoongi's still breathing hard when he slips out of you, placing your leg back down on the bed and massaging your hip as he plants kisses along your shoulder blade,  and even though you’re barely alive you can still feel how sore you are after being so thoroughly used.  Jimin kisses you gently, cupping your cheek with his palm, suddenly so tender after being so unforgivingly rough only moments ago.

“You’re so amazing, kitten,” he praises, rubbing his nose on yours slowly, “I love you.”

“I love you too,” you murmur sleepily, smiling to yourself at the gust of air that hits your back as Yoongi yawns heavily, just as worn out as you.  

“I’ll go get something to clean you up.”  Jimin places one last kiss on the tip of your nose before rolling away and climbing out of bed, heading toward the bathroom still stark naked.  He looks back at you, looking at the way Yoongi is curling his body around yours, holding you from behind, his mouth curved  into a gentle smile.  “Yoongi,” he calls, pulling the other from the tempting lull of sleep.  His voice is harsh to begin with but then turns softer when Yoongi’s eyes open, twisting his neck to look at back at Jimin over his shoulder.  “ Hyung, say goodnight.”

The message behind his words is clear, even if they’re softly spoken; it’s time for him to leave.  You feel Yoongi's body tense behind you, and suddenly what had felt so wonderful feels like it’s been tainted, disappointment tugging at your heart as Jimin leaves the room – probably giving you time to say goodbye without him watching over you.   

You turn over to face Yoongi, letting your eyes drift over every inch of his face, rushing to try and take in every feature before he’s made to leave.  His fingertips are tickling gently at your lower back as he seems to do the same, his face serious and thoughtful.  

“Thank you,” you whisper, and it makes the smallest of smiles tug at his lips.  

‘It should be me saying thank you, gongjunim.

“This won’t change anything, will it?”  You can’t keep your hands away from him, trailing your fingers over the dip in his chest and over his ribs, in love with his perfect, porcelain skin.  

“I think that’s up to Jimin.”  Yoongi frowns but quickly hides his expression by pressing a lingering kiss to your forehead.  God, you wish he didn’t have to go.  

“Can we still have that date?” His smile becomes wider, more gum on show before he kisses your forehead again.  

“Whatever my princess wants,” he murmurs into your hairline, cradling the back of your head.  

“Your princess?” You quirk an eyebrow at him, smiling teasingly.  

“Maybe one day.  I’ll keep hoping.”  Your heart breaks at the sincerity in Yoongi’s eyes, it only hurting more when he reluctantly disentangles himself from you and starts to retrieve his items of clothes off the floor.  When Jimin re-enters the room Yoongi is already dressed, something you can tell Jimin’s pleased by.  “I'll see you later... I guess?” Yoongi asks falteringly, watching Jimin climb into bed with you and pull the sheets over the two of you with a decidedly jealous look on his face that even he can’t hide.  You’re about to say goodbye when Jimin speaks for you.  

“She'll be at her piano lesson tonight,” he confirms with a nod.  You’re instantly relieved to hear it, hopeful that if that tradition is remaining the same then everything  else will too.  

“Sleep well,” you tell Yoongi, smiling at him stood in the doorway.  

“You too,” he smiles back.  As soon as he pulls open the door to the corridor Nova comes darting in through his legs.  He mock glares at her back as she skitters over to her food bowl, clearly put out at being shut out of the room for so long.  Before she starts eating you notice her sniffling the air right before turning her wide, green eyes on you and Jimin – as if she knows what the three of you have been up to and judging you for it when she turns her back with a flick of her tail.

You look back to Yoongi who’s stood holding the door with a ‘what’s her problem?’ kind of look on his face.  He just shrugs before wishing the two of you a final soft goodbye and leaving, shutting the door behind him, and you’re left lying there still wishing he didn’t have to go.  

“Let’s get you clean, kitten,” Jimin prompts, grabbing a damp washcloth from the bedside table that he must have brought back with him earlier.  He lies on his side next to you and gently wipes the blood from your neck first, before then slipping his hand underneath the sheets and cleaning between your legs.  Jimin’s a bit rough at first, but when you jump at the feel of the cloth against your over-sensitive clitoris he becomes extra-specially careful with you, washing you gently until the majority of their seed has been wiped away.

Once he’s done Jimin lies on his back and beckons you onto his arms, immediately wrapping them around you as you snuggle up to his side and place your head on his chest.  He kisses the top of your head too, both of you falling silent for a little while, just enjoying the feeling of lying next to someone you know loves you.  

“I enjoyed that more than I thought I would,” Jimin comments eventually, sounding a little surprised.

“So did I,” you agree, yawning, and you hear Jimin laughing at you as your mouth closes.

“That was pretty obvious.”  He kisses away the frown that briefly contorted your face, tipping your head back to look at him properly.  ‘Would you want to do it again?”

“Yes,” you answer instantly, probably too eagerly because it makes him laugh again, tutting at you.  

“You’re such a greedy kitten,” he teases fondly.  “It is just Yoongi I need to share with, or has someone else been catching your eye too?”  Oh, only Tae and Jungkook... and Namjoon.  Just those three.  You feel your cheeks blush guiltily as you glance away, forcing yourself to look back at him in hopes of not making your lie too obvious.   You really are so greedy...

“Just Yoongi.”  One of Jimin’s rises and he eyes you skeptically, clearly not convinced but letting it slide anyway.

“Hmm.  Just make sure to get my permission first if that ever changes.”  He runs his fingers soothingly through your hair, yawning now too.  “Remember you still belong to me.  You’re mine, no-one else’s.” Ah, there’s that possessive steak rearing its head again after being so carefully concealed.  Oh yes, Jimin's willing to share – so long as everyone involved submits completely and utterly to him.  Somehow you don’t think that'd work with someone like Namjoon... “Get some rest, kitten, you’ve earnt it tonight.”

You nod, too tired to argue that actually it’s nowhere near dawn because he’s right, you’re absolutely wiped out after all of tonight’s exertions, and you just know you’re going to ache like hell when you wake up.  

“What a day..."

Chapter Text

You on your way? We’ll miss the set menu if you’re not here soon! xx

You shove your phone back into your back pocket with a groan and then hastily button up your blouse, mentally kicking yourself for waking up so much later than you’d intended. You’d gotten in touch with Sam again a couple of days ago and had made plans to meet up for a late lunch and coffee – just like old times – but of course she’s not on a nocturnal schedule like you, so managing to tear yourself out of bed any earlier than 4pm didn’t go quite as well as expected. You are so going to be late.

As soon as you’re dressed you scurry over to the bed to say goodbye to the lump in the covers, pulling them back far enough to reveal Jimin’s messy mop of hair and sleeping face. He looks perfectly adorable, his little nose scrunching up and his eyes shutting even tighter at your intrusion. “Jiminie…” you call softly, smiling as you run your fingers through his fringe to push it back from his forehead. “I’m going to meet Sam now.”

“Hmmm, kay,” he murmurs, taking hold of your wrist and pulling it down to the level of his mouth so he can plant sleepy kisses along it. You lean down to kiss him lovingly, your heart fluttering as you do, and when you pull away Jimin manages to open one eyes to look up at you. “Your collar, kitten.” Your hand automatically reaches up to touch your throat, finding it bare.

“I must’ve forgotten to put it back on…” You glance around the bed but can’t seem to see it anywhere.

“Where’d you put it?”

“Try the floor,” Jimin smirks, his eyes now closed again, curling both of his arms around his pillow with a contented sigh. Sure enough you find your collar at the end of the bed, lying crumpled where it’d been thrown by Jimin during a fit of passion. You put it on, thankful that he’d noticed its absence; the bite marks on your neck from this morning’s feeding are still too fresh and easily noticed, and trying to explain them to Sam would have been interesting to say the least.

“See you later,” you whisper, knowing that he’s already fallen back to sleep by the way his every feature has softened and relaxed, his breathing slow and easy. It’s so tempting to crawl back into bed with him, but when your phone goes off again your sense of urgency returns, quickly leaving the bedroom and walking briskly to the entrance hall where your ride should be waiting.

They’re not, though, at least so far as you can tell. You scan the room, huffing impatiently. You definitely will be late now, but when you finally find Yoongi any irritation you might have felt is completely forgotten. He’s tucked himself away, all curled up at the bottom of the stairs and slumped against the bannister, obviously having fallen asleep as he sat waiting for you. You’d never expected him to willingly wake up this early for you - you know how much Yoongi likes to sleep, after all - but when you’d mentioned needing a ride he’d offered to take you without hesitation; something that had surprised the other guys just as much as it had you.

“Yoongi-Oppa,” you call in a sing-song voice, squatting in front of him and tilting your head to the side. Even in his sleep Yoongi has a resting bitch face, though it’s not as strong as when he’s awake, but as far as you’re concerned he looks nothing but sweet. “Yoongi,” you call again, reaching out and taking one of the hands that’s resting open on his lap, threading your fingers together.

He rouses at your touch, automatically tightening his grip on your hand as he yawns, his eyes opening as he sits up.

“What time is it?” he asks groggily, rubbing his eye with your conjoined hand as you smile affectionately at him. “You know what, don’t even tell me.”

“Are you sure you’re ok to drive?” It’s time like these where you could really do with knowing how to drive yourself. You must remind yourself to add it to your to do list - should any of them actually be brave enough to teach you, that is.

“I’ll live.” He stands up with a groan, stretching his arms out and twisting his back but keeping your hand tightly held in his. “C’mon, you’ll be late.”

“You don’t even know what time it is,” you grumble, scowling playfully at his back as you exit the house. It’s a good job it isn’t any earlier really, because the sun is only just starting to go down. It’s not strong enough to be lethal by any means, but you know it’ll be irritating Yoongi’s skin during the time he’s exposed to it. That’s probably why he’s put on so many layers, wrapped up in a long-sleeve sweater even though it’s still quite mild for an autumn evening.

“No, but I know you’re always late,” he teases, smirking, and when you ‘humpf’ he presses a consoling kiss to your knuckles in way of apology. You reluctantly part to climb into the passenger side of the car and send Sam a quick text in reply, letting her know you’re on your way and apologising in advance. You’re not late quite yet, but in five minutes you will be, and the journey itself takes a good fifteen.
By the time you put your phone back in your pocket Yoongi’s out on the open road and driving a lot more conservatively than you would’ve expected, his cocoa coloured eyes glancing regularly in the rear-view mirror when they’re not looking at you.

“Looking forward to seeing your friend?” he asks after a moment of comfortable silence.

“Sam? Yeah, definitely,” you nod, excitement bubbling in your stomach at the prospect, “It’s been too long.” He nods, expression thoughtful as he looks straight ahead.

“She sounds nice, from what you told me.”

“She is,” you agree, “Though I’m not sure you’d like her.” He quirks an eyebrow, a small smile pulling at the corner of his lips. “She’s kind of… full on.” Yoongi gives a short, quiet laugh, nodding again.

“You’re probably right then.”

“Saying that, you’ve been living with Hobi what, thirty years, and you haven’t killed him yet.” More laughter from the both of you, Yoongi’s gums appearing as he smiles and reaches over to take your hand from your lap, placing it on the gear-stick underneath his own. The gesture warms you right from your head to your toes, the smile on your face sticking as you fondly watch him.

You would’ve never expected Yoongi to be the affectionate type when you met him, not for a single second, but he’s actually starting to rival Jimin when it comes to little loving touches. So much worry had plagued your mind after the night you’d slept together, and it was with total trepidation that you’d shuffled your way into Yoongi’s bedroom later that evening. You’d been sure that the atmosphere would be different between the two of you, but it was almost like nothing had changed. Yes, there was sexual tension, but then there always had been right from the start, hadn’t there?

The only difference is that Yoongi doesn’t seem so afraid of touching you anymore, and now he’s started it’s like he can’t stop; curling his arm around you as you play piano next to him, pressing kisses to the side of your forehead when you’re deserving of praise. Somehow it never turns into anything sexual, even though it’s clear it’s on both of your minds, and the only reason you can think it hasn’t is because you’re kind of unsure as to where the boundaries lie. Yes, you’ve slept together before and yes Jimin was happy to share then, but that was under his direct supervision. You haven’t yet clarified whether or not you’re free to indulge with Yoongi as often as you please, and somehow you get the feeling that Jimin might not be so open to the idea of his hyung getting his hands on you without him there. You need to do something again soon though, because just watching the way Yoongi’s fingers are gliding so smoothly over the leather of the steering wheel is turning you on. He squeezes your hand, bringing your attention back to the here and now.

“Think about something else, gongjunim,” he tells you, tonguing the inside of his cheek distractedly, “I want you too, believe me, but if I pull over now you won’t just be late - you won’t be going at all.” You swallow hard, forcing yourself to look out of the window and try to think about something other than the lusty pitch of Yoongi’s voice. Him saying that didn’t help whatsoever - if anything it made it worse - because when you cross your legs you can feel the wetness there, and every side road you pass you’re imagining him turning down to park up and have his way with you in the backseat of the car.

“God damn it,” you mutter under your breath, and Yoongi just squeezes your hand again, your suffering mutual, at least.

A couple of minutes pass before he speaks again, giving you both some time to calm down and drag your thoughts out of the gutter.

“Did you decide if you're going to tell her yet?” He's referring to your indecision as to whether to confess to Sam that you telling her that you were staying with your aunt was a great big lie. You feel like she's going to find out sooner or later - Sam has a way of sniffing out the truth in any situation - but trying to explain why you're living in a house as the only woman amongst seven young men is going to a little bit of a challenge.

“I think I'm going to have to,” you sigh, shrugging your shoulders. “Not the whole truth, obviously, but something like it.”

“Just try not to give her too many details,” he warns mildly, letting go of your hand for a moment to turn a corner.

“I won't. I'd never do anything to put you guys at risk.”

“I know,” Yoongi smiles, glancing over at you, affection is his eyes.

The rest of the journey passes pretty uneventfully. Yoongi turns on the radio and raps along quietly to the different hip-hop songs that play, and you're pleasantly surprised by how good he is. He's obviously been blessed musically in more ways than one, pride swelling in your chest as you watch him get lost in the rhythm and rhyme of the words.

“This the place?” he asks as he pulls up outside a little bistro that you and Sam have frequented many times before. You nod, unbuckling your seatbelt.

“Thanks for the ride,” you say gratefully, pausing as you open the car door to smile back at him. “Hobi said he’d pick me up later.”

“Ok. Have fun.” You've got one foot already on the pavement outside when you hear Yoongi mutter something that sounds like ‘fuck it’ under his breath. It’s uttered right before he grabs onto your upper arm and pulls you back inside the car, straight into his mouth and a frantically delivered kiss. He holds your face in both hands as you sag against him, grabbing onto the front of his sweatshirt as you twist awkwardly in the car’s bucket seats, kissing him back eagerly. By the time he releases you you're breathless, having to blink a couple of times just to bring yourself back to reality, staring back at his smiling face dumbly.

“Great. Now I'm going to be thinking about that all night,” you groan, sighing as Yoongi's smile gets wider.

“You started it.”

“I started nothing.”

“Please,” he scoffs, turning his face away and running his hands over the steering wheel, flexing his fingers and making his veins pop. God, those hands.

“Ok, leaving now,” you say quickly, before you descend into arousal-induced madness completely. You hop out of the car, hearing him chuckle behind you. “See you later.”

“Later gongjunim.” You shut the car door firmly and then make for the restaurant entrance, knowing instinctively that Yoongi will wait to see you're inside safe before driving away. It's not until you're stood peering around the restaurant looking for Sam that you notice the big black car they all share finally drive away.

Sam spots you before you spot her, calling your name to get your attention. You turn on the spot to see her rising from her seat at a window table and waving eagerly in your direction. You wave back, a wide smile breaking out on your face as you swell with happiness on seeing her after what feels like so long.
She pulls you into an embrace the moment she can reach you, squeezing you within an inch of your life.

“Ugh, I've missed you so much!” she crows in your ear, squeezing you again as you rub her back, afraid that she might start blubbering at any moment.

“I've missed you too.” Sam pulls back but holds you at arm’s length, inspecting you like she's expecting missing limbs or an extra head.

“You look different,” she observes shrewdly, twisting her mouth and frowning slightly as she tries to figure out what it is.

“Honestly? I feel different,” you admit, and you really do. The last time you saw Sam you would’ve felt mortified at her calling attention to the both of you in the middle of her restaurant, squawking and throwing her arms around you the way she did, but now you honestly don't care at all. You're not sure what exactly it is that's changed, but you know Jimin and the others are at the root of it.

“And you've lost weight,” she comments, letting you go so you can sit opposite her at the table. “You're paler too. You are eating properly aren't you?”

“Definitely,” you affirm with a nod, thinking back to the big bowl of beef noodles Jin served up for you last night. “Don't go worrying about me. I'm sure you've got loads to tell me.”

If there's any sure fire way of distracting Sam it's getting her to talk about herself, and sure enough once she starts she talks almost non-stop all the way through your starter and halfway the main, too. She tells you all the usual stories; the latest office gossip, all about her latest conquests, and then finally telling you how her mom and dad are coping with his losing battle with early onset dementia. It’s reassuring that even when your own life has changed so much, Sam remains steady - a much needed constant.

“But what about you? How's it been with your aunt?” She feeds herself another forkful of chicken, finally falling silent, all her attention fixed on you.

It's now or never, you guess. You're never going to get a better opportunity than this to drop the truth into the conversation, so you may as well take it.

“Actually,” you start slowly, twirling some spaghetti around fork and fixating the task rather than Sam’s eyes, “It isn't her I've been staying with.” You glance up, unsurprised by the confused look that's waiting for you. Taking a deep, bracing breath you continue to explain as your heart races nervously. “Do you remember the guy I met that night at the club?”

“The Asian guy?” Her voice has risen sharply in pitch, her knife and fork abandoned on her plate as she stares at you incredulously. “The guy that attacked you?!” You cringe, knowing that the people at the table next to yours are starting to stare just as hard as Sam is.

“That wasn't him,” you lie, quieting your voice to try and encourage her to do the same.

“You said you couldn't remember who it was.” She sounds sceptical, suspicious, and you can't say you blame her, but you continue to deny it anyway.

“Just trust me on this, ok? Jimin wouldn't hurt me.” At least there's truth in that; you know Jimin would never let you come to any harm now, whether it be from him or anyone else. He's fiercely protective of you, and you've never felt as safe in your life as you do when he's holding you in his arms.

Sam sighs heavily, her eyes darting back and forth between your own as she frowns with worry.

“So if you're living with this Jinim person-"

“Jimin.”

“- ok Jimin, Mr super hot club guy, whatever.” You smother a laugh into your soda; you're really gonna have to call him that when you get home. “So then who the hell was that guy I just saw you kissing?” Your cheeks flush scarlet red as your mouth pops open, caught completely by surprise. You'd had no idea she'd seen that, and the Sam you know would usually delight in questioning you relentlessly if she'd caught even a whiff of your romantic life being in any way alive. She was obviously playing her cards close to her chest, waiting to use that little bit of information to her best advantage. Well played Sam.

“He's… that's Yoongi. He lives with Jimin. They all do, the seven of them, they're friends, living together,” you ramble hastily, tripping over your words as you try to explain in any way that might make sense. She narrows her eyes.

“So are you with this Yoongi guy, or the other one?” The question would make you laugh if you weren’t feeling so flustered. Although it’s not intentional Sam’s managed to hit the nail right on the head; even you aren't sure what the answer is.

“We have a… uh… kind of arrangement?” you answer after a moment, still flushed with embarrassment, picking at a slice of garlic bread as a means of distraction.

“With all of them?!” Her pitch just keeps getting higher, eyebrows threatening to disappear above her hairline. “What kind of sick operation are they running?!”

“No, no, it's not like that!” This is quickly starting to get out of hand, Sam clearly leaping to all sorts of outlandish presumptions. God, she probably thinks you're in some sort of cult, or that you're being kept prisoner as some sort of unwilling sex slave.

“Do you have, like, Stockholm syndrome or something?!”

“No!” you groan, frustrated by your own inability to explain in any kind of coherent, convincing way. Sam opens her mouth to start talking again but when she sees you press your palms together in a mock prayer, a pleading look on your face, it closes again. “Just listen for a minute, please?” She smiles, embarrassed, her perfect face turning a slight shade of pink as it always does when you call attention to her permanent case of motor-mouth. When she sits back in her chair and picks up her drink, crossing her legs and lifting an eyebrow as she takes a sip, you know you’ve been given the floor to speak.

“It’s just… complicated with the three of us. We're only just starting to figure it out, so even I don't know what to tell you right now.” You give her a reassuring smile, shrugging your shoulders. “But I'm happy. Really happy. Jimin is so loving it's just, like, crazy intense, and Yoongi is the sweetest, softest…” Trailing off you notice Sam’s smile starting to grow in response to the love-sick puppy look that must be written all over your face.

“He was pretty cute, to be fair,” she admits.

“Which one?” you giggle as you pick up your fork, feeling reassured that the worst bit is over now that Sam’s initial shock has passed.

“Both.” That sweet smile of hers slowly morphs into a dirty smirk that has you bursting into laughter as she winks salaciously, taking a sip from her glass. “So… how far have you gone with them?” she asks as soon as she's swallowed her mouthful, placing her drink back on the table looking nothing but casual. You almost choke on your mouthful of spaghetti, a blush forming on your cheeks at the bluntness of the question. You should’ve known she wouldn't be shy about asking for all the gory details.

“Far enough,” you answer shyly, grinning down at your plate.

“Hey, woman, none of this coy bullshit,” she scolds, waving her fork at you, “You've been getting all my stories for years, so now you're finally getting some it's time to repay the favour.”

“I never actually asked to hear about them…”

“Doesn't matter,” she dismisses with a shake of her head, “You owe me details, so c’mon, cough up.” You smile, sighing exaggeratedly.

“Ok, what do you want to know?” Sam leans forward and places her elbow on the table, leaning her chin on her head and cocking her head. The look on her face is so sincerely thoughtful you'd think she was about to pose one of life's greatest philosophical questions.

“What's double penetration like?”

Chapter Text

Your time together with Sam passes far too quickly.  Before you know it you've giggled your way through the last of your main, dessert, and an after dinner coffee.  It's approaching 11pm, and though this practically still morning time for you Sam’s starting to look decidedly sleepy, yawning over the rim of her final glass of wine.  

Your phone goes off in your pocket; Hoseok’s almost here to pick you up so it's probably time to start saying your goodbyes, as much as it grieves you to do so.  

“My ride’s gonna be here in a minute,” you tell her with a sad smile, one that she mirrors.  

“Let’s not leave it so long next time,” she says emphatically as you drain your glass too.  You must be growing up; you're starting to quite like a nice glass of red.  In fact, you're pretty sure you're feeling rather tipsy, and it's not all that unpleasant.  “Definitely.”  You see Sam reach into her bag to retrieve her purse but you wave your hand quickly, shooing her away.  “No no no, I'll get it,” you insist, pulling Jimin’s card out of your pocket.  Sam raises her eyebrows, clearly impressed.

“He's let you loose with his plastic?  I like him already.”  You grin, standing up from the table and giggling at the tiny head rush you get.  

“Back in a sec.”  You wander off to pay the bill, leaning on bar and waiting to be served, tapping Jimin’s card against the wood and smiling to yourself.  You can't wait to get home and see him, snuggle up with him and Nova and tell him what a nice time you've had tonight.  Maybe afterwards you can go have your piano lesson with Yoongi too, and have him press those sweet little kisses of his against your cheek. Your eyes shut for a moment to imagine it, sighing wistfully; what did you ever do in past life to be deserving all this love and attention?  

After you've paid the bill you pop to the toilet, your bladder clearly not used to even the most modest of alcohol intake, but when you step back into the restaurant you have to question whether or not you're more drunk than you think - so unexpected is the sight that greets you.  

Hobi has stolen your seat, sat across from Sam with his elbows resting on table and his chin in his hands, leaning forward and giving her his complete and rapt attention.  You panic, scuttling over quickly and interrupting them with a nervous laugh.  

“You didn't tell me you’d arrived!”  You direct your shrill accusation toward the obviously besotted vampire, aware that your voice is about ten times higher than usual and your eyes are wide as saucers with alarm.  He tilts his head to the side to smile up at you mischievously.

“You didn't tell me your date was so cute.”  You pull a face at him, horrified when you hear Sam giggle.  How is that Sam - lure ‘em in then spit ‘em out Sam - is currently sat there oggling Hobi like a horny schoolgirl, letting herself be won over by such a horrendously corny line?

“Are all of Jimin’s friends so good-looking?” she asks eagerly, unable to drag her eyes off of the man opposite her.  Yes, actually, they all are - but you're not about to tell her that.  Thinking it's probably better to skirt around the question entirely and separate the two of them as soon as possible, you throw your arms around Sam’s head and squeeze her tight, smooshing her face into your stomach as you throw daggers from your eyes at Hobi.  

“It was so good to see you,” you tell her as she wraps her arms around your thighs and squeezes back.  

“Maybe next time I can come to yours and meet everyone properly?” she suggests, looking up at you from your crotch with a gleeful smile.  You laugh nervously and once again avoid the question.

“We better get going, it's getting late,” you say to Hobi, lifting your eyebrows meaningfully at him.  He grins, standing from the table as you let go of Sam with a final few pats of her head.  

“Text me later?”  Sam asks him hopefully, and once again you have to do a double take between the two of them, your mouth hanging open.  You were only gone for like, two minutes!  How the hell did he manage to get her number that fast?!  Usually Sam makes a guy work all night before giving out her digits, and even then they're rarely her real ones.  

“You can count on it,” he winks as he tucks his chair under the table and Sam flushes an attractive shade of pink, chewing on her thumbnail.  What on earth is going on?  Hoseok pulls his keys out of his pocket and jangles them in front of your shell-shocked face, snapping you back to reality.  “You coming or not?”  You blink.  

“Yeah, uh… yeah, ok.”  You look back at Sam and she gives you a little wave, lifting her shoulders and grinning so excitedly that she looks almost manic.  

“See you soon!”  

“See you later,” you wave back, hurrying out of the restaurant after Hoseok and climbing into the car he's parked so unceremoniously on the pavement outside.  All the while you're getting in and securing your belt you're just waiting for him to say something or offer up any kind of explanation for what's just gone on, but no matter how hard you stare Hobi carries on as normal - albeit smiling even more so than usual.  Once you're well away from the restaurant you finally lose your patience, switching from sitting quietly beside him to repeatedly smacking him on the arm within the blink of an eye.

“Hey hey hey!”  Hoseok exclaims, trying to lean away out of your range whilst still being able to drive.

“What the bloody hell was that?!” you shriek at him, getting in one last hit before relenting for fear of making him crash the car.  

“What do you mean?!”  he questions back.  You gawp, not believing for one moment that he doesn't know what it is you're upset about.  

“Swapping numbers with my best friend, that's what I mean!”  He grins as he looks straight ahead, seemingly very pleased with himself for doing so.  

“Oh yeah, she is hot!  Wow. ”  Again you have to pause, incredulous, screwing up your face into a frown.

“Yes, yes she is... and may I remind you - you’re a vampire, Hoseok!”  

“So?” he laughs, unaffected by your wrath. “So’s Jimin.”

“That's different,” you insist, narrowing your eyes.  

“How is it?”  he glances at you, momentarily looking away from the road.  “I don't know about you, but personally I think that went a lot better than when you two first met.  What with the almost killing you, and all.”  You open your mouth to retort but then come to an abrupt halt, shutting it promptly when you realise that he might actually have a point.  He carries on, shifting gears smoothly as he pulls off from an intersection.  “And if Jimin can have a girlfriend then why can’t I?”  

Again, you can’t exactly argue with what he says.  The boys do, on the whole, exercise an excellent amount of self-control when it comes to feeding; you live there safely amongst them, after all.  It’d seem really mean, too, to condemn them to a life without someone to love - it’s a very, very long life, after all.  

“Ok,” you concede, taking a breath, “I get what you’re saying… but can’t you date someone else?  Does it have to be Sam?”  Hoseok huffs out your name, shrugging his shoulders loosely.  

“It might not even get that far.  We swapped numbers, that’s it, and she probably won’t even like me anyway.”  The look on Hobi’s face when he finishes speaking is so unfamiliar that it has you frowning when you see it.  He’s usually like sunshine personified - so full of energy and positivity that you’ve compared him to a puppy on crack on more than one occasion - but right now he looks completely unsure of himself, plagued by self-doubt you hadn’t even thought he was capable of feeling.  He glances down at his lap and nibbles the corner of his lip, clenching his hands around the steering wheel.  

“Hey, no, of course she’ll like you,” you tell him, unable to keep yourself from reassuring him despite your many reservations,  “Who wouldn’t?”  

“You think?”  Hobi visibly bolsters at your words, the bright smile you’ve become so accustomed to re-appearing on his pretty face.  “Can't you just give me the benefit of the doubt if she does?”  You sigh, looking out of the window to give yourself a moment to think about it, so preoccupied with worry that you’re not really seeing any of the scenery speeding by in front of your face.

On the one hand, this could get horrendously messy.  Hoseok might be able to conceal the fact he’s a vampire - but then what happens if he can’t?  Sam isn’t the most discreet person at the best of times, and you can’t see Namjoon tolerating her blabbing their existence all over town.  And as good as Hobi’s intentions are; what if he did lose control?  You’re not sure you could ever forgive yourself for letting her getting drawn into this strange world you’ve found yourself in if something bad ever happened to her.  

Then, on the other… you can’t help but think how adorable a couple Hobi and Sam would make given the chance.  I mean, God, you’d probably have to take them in small doses because even individually they’re a lot to take, so who knows what the hell they’d be like as a combined force, but you know Sam better than anyone and as much as you hate to admit it he’s just her type.   He’s confident enough to keep her on her toes, fun enough to keep her interested and… well… you’ve only seen Hobi dance once, but when you see hips move like that... let’s just say it’s not easy thing to forget.   Plus, first impressions of killing a girl aside, he’s a genuinely good guy.  Vampire.  Whatever.  

How exactly has your life gotten to the point where you can think the sentence ‘killing a girl aside’ and not even flinch?  

“Alright,” you say calmly, turning back round to face him, “Give it a shot, you have my blessing.”  Hoseok grins excitedly, shimmying about in his seat so the leather of his pants squeaks against the leather of the car.  “But,” you continue, pointing a finger at him, your voice low and deadly serious, “If you hurt her, Hobi, be it physically or emotionally or any way at all, I will hunt you down and end you.”  He’s about to laugh, you can tell, but one glance at your face shows him just how serious you are about this and the smile is quickly wiped from his face as his eyes widen nervously.  “I mean it.  You do not mess with her, ok?”  Hoseok nods rapidly, swallowing, but you leave your finger pointed at him for a moment longer anyway, just for effect, before slowly lowering it as you release the tension from your shoulders with a heavy sigh. 

The car falls silent then, and it stays that way until you’re almost home, the both of you sitting contentedly side by side.  You hope he’s using the quiet time to think about what you said, and from the thoughtful expression on his face it looks as though he might be.  You nod to yourself in satisfaction, glad that he’s seemingly gotten the message.   

As you pull onto the gravel driveway you notice that the second garage is stood open but dark and empty, the black minivan that they use for their jobs missing its space.

“Let me guess, he’s sent Jimin out again, right?”  

“Yup, how’d you know?”  Hoseok replies, the corner of his mouth twisting into a sardonic smile.  It’s starting to become a running joke that Jimin seems to be getting sent out almost every other day, Namjoon’s personal errand boy, and even though he insists it’s not your fault you still feel guilty when he comes home in the morning covered in blood or bruises, unable to do much more than fall into bed next to you.   “Yoongi’s expecting you for piano practice though.” Hoseok turns off the car engine and smiles at the mildly surprised look on your face.  “He told me to tell you.”  

You’d almost forgotten about your daily lesson, so caught up in worrying about the prospect of Sam dating a vampire, but now that you’ve been reminded of it it undeniably takes the edge off of the disappointment of not getting to spend the evening beside Jimin.   

“Ok, thanks.”  The both of you exit the car and walk into the house together, parting ways in the entrance hall with a brief hug.  As Hoseok walks off you notice him pulling his phone from his pocket and while you wander down the corridor to Yoongi’s room you absent-mindedly speculate whether he’s planning on texting Sam already.   At least he’s not playing games, if he is indeed doing so.  

Yoongi’s already playing piano when you walk into his room; his eyes closed, earbuds in, lost to the music he’s playing along to.  A smile appears on your face as soon as you see him, the affection you feel making your heart swell inside your chest as you watch.  You creep inside, determined to catch him off guard, and through sheer luck you manage to remain completely undetected, only drawing attention to yourself once you’re stood right behind him and gently placing your hands on his shoulders, squeezing.  

He jumps, fingers jarring on the keys in place of a scream, twisting on the piano stool and yanking the earbuds from his ears to find you bent over double, giggling.  You’d only wanted to surprise, not scare, but the sight of him leaping a good foot in the air is too funny not to enjoy.  

“Jesus christ,” Yoongi huffs, a little breathless.  He’s glowering so hard you’d think he was mad if it weren’t for the big, toothy smile on his face, “Are you trying to kill me?”

“I'm not sure you're quite so easy to get rid of as that,” you grin back at him, pleased by the way he loops his arms around your thighs to pull you into the space he's made between his open denim-clad legs.

“Oh?  You've been thinking of ways to do it then?”  He gazes up at you, playfulness twinkling in his eyes as you sway your hips from side to side, trying to adopt an innocent expression.  

“Me?  Never.”  He chuckles softly, his hands straying under the hem of your blouse to rest on your lower back, the tips of his fingers inspiring goosebumps wherever they go.  

“You're too sweet, gongjunim .” Yoongi’s praise makes a light blush colour your cheeks as you bat your eyelids down at him.  His lips part slightly, the tip of his tongue poking through to wet the corner of his mouth, and you can see the exact moment that playfulness starts to morph into something else, his eyes getting darker as his pupils dilate.  You’d still been feeling fairly tipsy up until this point, but having him look this way at you sobers you up completely.  “Come down here and let me have a taste.”

Your breath catches in your throat, your core throbbing involuntarily even though you know it's only kissing he's referring to - for now, at least.  You're all too aware that if the two of you start kissing now, here, alone in his room with the rest of the night to yourselves this could easily escalate into something it shouldn't, and it's that knowledge that makes you hesitate even though your body is practically screaming out for him.  

“Are-aren't you going to ask if I had fun tonight?” you ask haltingly, hoping that distraction might prove a successful tactic for keeping you out of the trouble Yoongi's quickly leading you into.  He looks genuinely abashed for a second, like he's cross with himself for being so forward and forgetting his manners.  Not that he needs them, not really.  Yoongi could just grunt and point and you'd probably still drop your panties for him at a moment’s notice.  

“Sorry, princess.  Did you have a good time?” he asks sincerely, pressing his cheek to your blouse as he looks up at you, squeezing his arms to hug your hips.  You nod your head with a little smile, reaching down to move the black bangs that have fallen in front of his pretty eyes.  “And Sam, was she ok?”  Again you nod and he smiles, pleased that you were able to enjoy yourself away from the house for a change.  You might have been trying to distract him, but somehow you've ended up shooting yourself in the foot.  Now he's been so sweet you just want to kiss him more than ever, and apparently he feels like same way about you.  “Can I have that kiss, now?” he asks, the heat in his eyes contradicting the sweetness of his tone, his fingers kneading at your flesh of your waist impatiently.  Oh, you're so done for.  

“I thought I was here for my lesson,” you say, swallowing nervously.  He chuckles, the sexiest smirk appearing on his face as he cocks his head to the side. 

“There are lots of things I can teach you if you'll let me,” Yoongi purrs lowly, hitching your blouse up a little ways so he can nuzzle his nose against the soft swell of your stomach, still fit to burst after such a large meal.  “I know what a fast learner you are.”  Your breathing rate is starting to increase along with your pulse, your mind beginning to race as it wonders what exactly he might have in mind. 

“I'm not sure we should…” you murmur half-heartedly, your eyes flopping closed at the feel of Yoongi's lips trailing their way across the line where your skin disappears below your jeans.

“Blame me,” he tells you, his hands travelling downward to rest on your behind and squeezing firmly.  “Tell Jimin it was all my idea.”  You shiver at the cold breath his words blow across your skin, feeling your resolve melt away more with every kiss he presses to you.  

“It is all your idea,” you half-laugh, half-groan as you open up your eyes to find him looking back up at you, the desire on his face all too plain to see.  His fingers wander their way around your belt loops to come to rest at the front of your jeans and the button there, but before he pops it open Yoongi flicks his eyes up to yours and waits until you give him a tiny, breathless nod of consent.  He hums your name thoughtfully as he pulls at your jeans, ignoring the jarring sound of your zipper as it's forced open, holding eye contact with as he peels them off of your hips and shimmies them down, chewing on his bottom lip like you are, too.  He reaches up to pull that wet, red lip from between your teeth, leaving his fingertip resting at the juncture of the two for just a moment. 

“Hmm... have you ever sucked a cock before?”  You feel your knees weaken a little bit at his question, amazed that he can make such dirty words sound so innocent and yet still make you throb all over.  You shake your head no, unable to string two words together, and you can tell from the way Yoongi's mouth twitches at the corners that he's really pleased that he’s stolen this particular first right out from under Jimin's nose.  “What about mine, gongjunim ?  Want to suck my cock?”  

Your mouth is suddenly drier than the Sahara, your eyes darting down to trace the long outline of Yoongi’s eager erection straining inside his jeans.  You're not sure how on earth you'll ever be able to fit it all in but you very quickly realise that you really don't care, your mouth re-filling with saliva the longer you think about it sliding past your lips.  You'll figure it out as you go along, if you have to - all you know is that it suddenly seems like the best idea there's ever been, and you're more than eager to give it a try. 

“Yes please,” you mumble, hot all over with embarrassment that has you looking at the floor and not in his eyes, automatically stepping out of the jeans that have pooled at your feet.  

“Hey,” he says softly, reaching out to take your hand from your side, wrapping it in his own and giving a gentle tug to make you look at him again.  “You don't have to be so meek and mild with me, ok?  I don't need you to ask nicely or beg or whatever it is Jimin makes you do.  I'll give you whatever you want, gongjunim … I just wanna make you feel good.”  

“I want to make you feel good, too,” you tell him, meaning every word you say.   

Your mind is so at war with itself, confused as to how you can love and desire two very different approaches to sex all at once, and both just as much as the other.  You love the way Jimin makes you feel; dominated, possessed, overwhelmed.  It feels safe because he's in control, but with Yoongi you feel safe too… just in a very different way.  With Yoongi you never feel out of control.  Needy, yes, at the mercy of your own hormones, mosr definitely, but he's so attentive to you that you feel certain you wouldn't even need to say anything aloud and he'd still know if you wanted him to stop.  

“You will, princess,” he reassures you, smiling softly, rubbing his thumb along the backs of your knuckles.  “Can I show you how?”  

Chapter Text

Yoongi leads you slowly from his piano to his bed, and with each and every step he kisses you, his fingers tangled in your hair.  You’re excited and eager but still undeniably nervous, your hands that are clutching onto his sweater shaking a little with fear.  Why does it feel as though you’re losing your virginity all over again?  Perhaps it’s because it’s just you and Yoongi this time, embarking on something you’ve never done before in which you’re very much the main performer.  God, you hope you don’t get it wrong, or do something stupid.  

The soft sound of Yoongi uttering your name calls a halt to your worrisome thoughts as his hands slide from your hair and onto your face, cupping your cheeks.  He pulls back a little to look at you, smiling.  

“Stop thinking,” he tells you, and you do your very best to clear your mind like he says, focusing instead on basking in the warmth of his gaze and the feeling of his body solid against yours.  

“Can I undress you?” you ask impulsively, surprising both yourself and Yoongi too, a small laugh escaping his lips.

“Sure.”  You take hold of the hem of his sweater, still quivering slightly as you pull it up and over his head, exposing his porcelain chest to the harsh bedroom lights, practically glowing under the fluorescents.   He undoes his belt for you, probably having presumed that you weren’t capable of such fiddly, dexterous tasks when you’re still so nervous and saving you the embarrassment of trying.   He still lets you undo the button though, capturing your mouth with his own as you push his jeans downward, leaving his boxers in place for the time being.  Yoongi’s tongue slides into your mouth to tangle with yours, his fingers making short work of the buttons on your blouse with not a hint of a tremor in sight.

He pushes it off your shoulders and onto the floor so you’re both left stood at the side of the bed in just your underwear, not a slither of space between your bodies for even air to pass through.  You can feel his member resting heavy against your lower stomach, tightly bound by the black material of his shorts, and you slip a hand between you to palm him from the outside, smiling at the way Yoongi’s breath hitches when you squeeze.  Brushing your hand up and down the solid length of him his hips soon start to move, urging forward into your palm, his eyes closing and lips parting with short, excited breaths.  

“Come here,” he breathes, stepping back and letting himself fall onto the bed, pulling you with him so that you’re sprawled on top, his erection pressing into your hip.  “Take them off.”  You know he means his boxers because your hands had already found their way back there, wasting no time in touching him again as you kiss sloppily, Yoongi’s hands a permanent fixture in your hair or on your face.  You tug his boxers down as he lifts his hips in compliance, having to leave his mouth to push them further down but trailing your lips down his neck instead.  A low moan rumbles at the back of his throat when you suck at the soft hollow of skin just above his jutting collarbone, his hips lifting involuntarily from the mattress, pre-cum smearing just above your belly-button when the tip nudges you there.   

“Keep going,” Yoongi urges you breathily, encouraging the slow downward trail of your wet mouth.  His nipples enter your peripheral vision as you're kissing down his sternum, and thinking he'll enjoy it just as much as you do when you're on the receiving end, you take one of the tiny, tight buds into your mouth and flick your tongue against it.  Yoongi gives a strangled moan that turns into a laugh when he feels your teeth threaten a bite, squirming his hips and pushing on your shoulder to move you away from it.  

“You don't like that?” you ask sheepishly, planting a soft, apologetic kiss on his chest.  

“I do,” he assures you, smiling kindly, “I'm just… over-sensitive in that particular area.”  Well, there's something you didn't know about him before.  

“Any other ‘sensitive’ areas?”  you smile up at him, tongue poking out between your teeth, your hands on the bed either side of his hips now, Yoongi's cock lying heavy on his stomach almost directly below where you're hovering.  He smirks, reaching down and holding the base of it between his thumb and forefinger so it stands tall, pointed in your direction.  

“Why don't you find out?”  You nervously lick your lips, eyes flicking back and forth between Yoongi’s face and his cock, noticing the way it twitches when the licking of your lips turns to biting.  “Just start slow, princess,” Yoongi tells you, noting the apprehension on your face.  He strokes himself once, slowly, smearing his pre-cum over the tip.  “Have a little taste.”  

He looks so sexy lying here like this, his legs spread wide enough for you to kneel between them, looking down at you with his black bangs hanging in his eyes, only the exaggerated rise and fall of his chest giving away how excited he is.

You lean down over him slowly, cautiously, looking to him all the time for instruction.  

“That's it,” he sighs, pushing the hair back that's dangling in front of your face and keeping his fingers threaded through it, “Open wide, gongjunim .”  You do, letting Yoongi guide your open, waiting mouth onto his cock, biting his lip as he does so.  He doesn't push or force, letting you take in as much as is comfortable which for now is just the swollen head, purring out a low moan when you wrap your lips around it and close your eyes.  

You instantly love the way it feels inside your mouth.  Yoongi’s cock is like cool concrete wrapped in silken sheets, his pre-cum slightly salty when it hits the tip of your tongue as it traces his frenulum.  He lets you explore for a little while, letting you become accustomed to the unfamiliar feel of it, running his fingers through your hair as you gently lick around the head.

“Think you can take a little more?”  he asks, his voice strained.  You open up your eyes to look up at him from under your lashes, and when you do you feel his grip tighten on your hair, a pained look fleeting across his face.  Nodding would be too difficult right now, so you answer him by slackening your jaw and lowering your mouth onto him further, taking as much of him in as you possibly can till the tip is nudging at the back of your throat, threatening your gag reflex.  Yoongi’s eyes haven’t left you for even a second, his breathing getting progressively harder as he watches his cock disappear between your lips.  There’s still a good couple of inches of him that doesn’t fit, and you hope he’s not too disappointed.  “Good girl,” he praises huskily, pushing you down just a tiny bit further till your eyes start to water.  “You’ll take it all soon enough.”  

You hum happily around his cock, drawing your mouth back slowly and then sinking onto it again, loving the groan of pleasure it pulls out of him.  Slowly and steadily you fall into a rhythm of sliding him back and forth between your lips, running the flat of your tongue along his length as you do, tracing the veins, opening your eyes periodically to check whether Yoongi still looks like he’s enjoying it.  You’re fairly certain he does; his eyes are heavy-lidded and full of lust, his bottom lip swollen and red from the way he keeps biting it in an effort to hold back, not wanting to push you too far too soon.  Even now his hips are flexing up gently, testing your limits, the hand in your hair getting slowly more insistent as your confidence grows.  

“Suck harder,”  Yoongi growls, twitching inside your mouth, “Suck on my cock.”  You’d been so preoccupied with pleasing Yoongi that you’d almost forgotten about your own arousal, but on hearing his dirty words you feel your pussy throb, very aware that your underwear is now completely soaked without him ever having touched you.  

You hollow out your cheeks and suck as hard as you can, desperately wanting to please him, picking up a little bit of speed.  Hearing a dull ‘thunk’ you open your eyes and look up, delighted to see Yoongi lying there with his head thrown back, that sound having come from the back of his head smacking against the headboard.  It spurs you on, the noises he’s making going straight to your groin so that soon you’re having to clench your thighs together, your own need becoming almost too much to bare.  

You remember something Sam told you once during one of her tales of her many sexual exploits.  She’d gone into great description about how much this one guy had loved her using her teeth while she blowed him, and as soon as the idea pops into your head you decide to use it, untucking your teeth from behind your lips and dragging them gently over the length of Yoongi’s cock as you pull back.  

“Fuck,” he huffs, his head snapping forward, eyes wide, “Fuck… princess… God I wanna fuck your mouth.”  His words are almost slurring, fisting your hair tightly, and you can tell he’s having to fight to keep his hips on the mattress, the warm, wet heat of your mouth proving too great of a temptation.  “Next time,” he gasps as you dip your tongue into his slit - another tip from Sam.  “Next time I’m fucking that pretty mouth.”  You groan around him, squeezing your legs together only to moan again when you feel the slickness coating the tops of your inner thighs.  

Yoongi’s different when Jimin’s not around.  He’s still soft and considerate and not nearly as dominant as your daddy, but his mouth was definitely cleaner whilst he was having to share you.  You love it though, dirty talk having become something you’ve quickly come to adore, and both Yoongi and Jimin seem equally skilled at it.  

You wrap your hand around the base of his cock, Yoongi letting go to let you take control, fisting  whatever you can’t quite fit inside your mouth.  He scoops up your hair in both hands, pulling it back into a ponytail so he can watch every inch of your face as it bobs back and forth in his lap, his low, guttural grunts becoming more frequent with every minute that passes.  

“I’m close, gongju- ah- princess… fuck,” he huffs, giving you fair warning to pull back if him cumming in your mouth isn’t something you want.  Oh, but you do want it.  You’ve never wanted anything more in your life.  His cock becomes even harder in your mouth, twitching, no longer able to control his hips as he bucks upward, chasing his orgasm.  “Shit, gonna cum, gonna cum,” Yoongi gasps, your scalp stinging as he tugs on your hair, and when his orgasm hits he chants your name, his cum spilling out onto your tongue in waves.   You take it all, every last drop, only swallowing once it’s ended and Yoongi’s spent, panting hard.  

His cock is already softening by the time you sit back onto your heels, licking your lips with a cheshire cat smile, satisfied with a job well done.  Yoongi looks wrecked, face covered in sweat, his chest still heaving, but when he sees you smile he smirks back, cocking his head.  

“Sure you’ve never done that before?” he asks breathily.

“Very sure,” you confirm, pleased that he thinks you did so well for a first time.  Your jaw aches, but honestly you’d expected the whole thing to be so much worse.  Even the taste of Yoongi’s cum was more pleasant that you’d thought it’d be - though you wouldn’t go ordering it off a menu any time soon. Your happiness is unfortunately cut short, however, when you realise that your core is still throbbing, reminding you of your woeful state of unfulfillment.   You grab at the tops of your thighs, digging your fingernails into yourself and your cheeks flushing when an involuntary whine spills out of you.  “Yoongi...” you mewl, squirming on the spot, too aroused to be embarrassed by your needy cries, “I need to cum… please, I need you.”  

Yoongi’s eyes have darkened again but his smile stays soft as he beckons you toward him.  You shuffle forward, straddling his hips with the intention of grinding against his member until he’s ready to go again,  surprised when he takes hold of your hips and keeps tugging you further up his body.  

“What’re you-?”

“Returning the favour,” he smirks, pulling you into position so that your knees on either side of his head on the pillow, your ruined underwear hovering over his nose and mouth.  Your own face is scarlet red, mortified that Yoongi’s getting such an up-close view of the most intimate part of you, sure that you’ll be too embarrassed like this to ever be able to enjoy it.  

The very moment Yoongi starts to lick you through your panties that worry is completely wiped from your mind, pleasure jolting through you and buckling your knees.  The tip of his tongue defines your folds through the soaked cotton, forcing it up inside you as he pushes at your hole.  

“God, you’re so fucking wet,” he hums, fingers digging into your hips, “Did you love sucking my cock that much?”  You moan wantonly, tipping your head back, groping your breasts through your bra in an attempt to heighten your own pleasure.

Suddenly you feel Yoongi grab one side of your underwear with both his hands and abruptly pull.  With his vampiric strength he rips the seam clean open so that the cloth dangles uselessly around the one remaining good side, exposing your core to the cold air and making you gasp.  You look down at him between your thighs, scandalised but unable to keep yourself from giggling when you see the mischievous expression on his face.  

“What’s Jimin gonna think of these?”  you giggle, shimmying your leg so your panties flap pathetically.  

“I don’t give a fuck what he thinks,” Yoongi replies, and you’d think he was being harsh if it weren’t for the smile still stretched across his face.  He wraps his arms around the back of your thighs and uses it as leverage to yank you downwards, growling at you to sit but the word muffling as his mouth makes contact with your core.  

He immediately starts to assault you with his tongue, slipping it through your folds and into your pussy, thrusting as deeply as he can.  You’re a mess within seconds, circling your hips down against him as you grip onto the headboard, riding his face, moans pouring from you as your juices dripping out onto his chin.  

“God, Yoongi, don’t stop,” you beg shamelessly, your cry stilting when he starts to suck harshly on your clit, pulling you down even harder against him to devour you completely, “You’re so good, oh my god.”  You hear a muffled laugh come from between your legs, the vibration of it only adding to the pleasure that’s pushing you closer and closer to the orgasm you crave.

Good doesn’t even come close to describe how amazing Yoongi is at this; his tongue never stills for even for a second, flicking and licking faster than you’d ever thought was possible.  You’re a writhing, moaning mess on top of his face, sweat dripping down your neck and your chest, your walls starting to clench inside as you get closer and closer to cumming, coiled tighter than a spring.  His short fingernails dig into your thighs as he laps sloppily at your clitoris, just as eager as you for your impending orgasm, and you know if he didn’t have his mouth full he’d be urging you on, telling you to cum.  

White hot pleasure courses through you, your body bucking as it hits, Yoongi’s name falling from your lips over and over again as it reaches a glorious peak and then begins to fade all too fast, your body reduced to a hot, quivering mess atop of him.  You force yourself to climb off of him fairly quickly, only for fear that you’ll smother him if you don’t, and as you roll onto your back you’re still whimpering slightly from the strength of it, desperately trying to catch your breath.

“Was that-” you begin, having to pause to catch your breath, blushing shyly as you turn your head to look at him and see him wiping the remnants of your orgasm from his nose, mouth and chin.  “Was that ok?”  He laughs lightly like he can’t believe you’re even having to ask and then he rolls onto his side like you, tucking both his hands under the pillow.  It’s amazing how he can switch from desperately sexy to undeniably adorable within five seconds flat, without even trying.

“You’ve got a place to sit any time you want it , gongjunim ,” he smiles, the softness of it at odds with the words he’s saying.  You just can’t help but shuffle closer and kiss him, smiling hard against his mouth.  Yoongi kisses you back, his whole mouth tasting of you, pulling one of his hands out from under the pillow to caress your cheek instead.  “I hope I don’t get you in trouble,” he says once you pull away, finally becoming concerned about the consequences of your indulgence just a little bit too late.  

“I’m sure he’ll understand,” you assure him, wishing you felt as sure as you sound, “We’ve never really talked about what the ‘rules’ are, so I guess i’m not technically breaking any?”  

“I hope he sees it that way.”  His smile beckons wider, playful.  “I could do without the bruises.”  

“It’ll be fine,” you reiterate, hoping that maybe if you can convince yourself you’ll be able to convince Jimin later too.  

Shit… now that that lust-drunk haze has passed and you’re clear-headed again you’re suddenly a lot more worried about what Jimin might have to say, and whilst Yoongi seemed momentarily concerned a second ago, it seems to have left his mind pretty fast because now he’s massaging your hip gently, a fond look on his face.  

“I think that was a fairly successful lesson, don’t you?”  he asks teasingly, and despite the anxiety that’s starting to knot your stomach Yoongi still manages to make you chuckle.  

“I think so.”  The corner of his mouth quirks up into a small smile and he uses his grip on your hip pulls you closer with a quiet, contented sigh, nuzzling his face into the crook of your neck once you’re settled.  You lay your arm over his waist, drawing absent-minded circles along his back and smiling when you feel him quiver, obviously a little ticklish.  He sighs again, giving you a squeeze, your opposingly hot and cold naked bodies pressed flush together.  

“I love this time we have together,” Yoongi whispers into your hair, and the emotions his words generate causes a lump to form in your throat which keeps you from speaking for a second, settling for squeezing him back, hard, instead.  

“I love it too,” you tell him once your ability to speak returns, your heart still thudding hard in your chest.  

You feel panicky for some reason, and you think it stems from the way it feels like Yoongi isn’t just talking about enjoying your company when he says things like that.  You try to ignore that feeling in your gut, telling yourself that you’re wrong and you’re probably reading too much into things, not ready to accept that Yoongi might have stronger feelings for you than you’d originally thought for fear that it might complicate things even further.  

“We should probably go and join the others,” you tell him after a moment, disentangling from him and getting out of bed a little faster than what would probably seem natural.  He must pick up on it too because for just a split second Yoongi looks confused, his arm still extended as if it’s draped over your hip but now holding nothing more than an empty space.  You instantly regret acting that way on seeing his expression, reaching back over across the bed and kissing him gently, letting it linger.  “Are you coming?” you smile when you pull away, pausing to brush the tip of your nose against his.  

Yoongi can’t help the way he feels, no more than you can, so there’s no point in panicking about it yet.  Jimin’s possessive, yes, but he’s always been very generous and understanding too, so there must be some way the three of you can make this work… if it gets to that point, that is.  Yoongi might just get all lovey-dovey during his after-sex glow, for all you know.  

“Only because you’re going to be there,” Yoongi smiles back, sickly sweet.  Ok, so maybe it’s not just the oxytocin high?  You wrinkle your nose at him and he wrinkles his back, guffawing a laugh at his own disgusting behaviour.  

You both retrieve your clothes from the floor and get dressed, and it’s only once you’re pulling on your skirt that you realise you still have your underwear hanging off your one leg.  You slip your knickers off with a snort, holding them out in Yoongi’s direction.  

“I should probably go get some new underwear, right?” you smile as he takes them from you and throws them into the trash with a remarkably good aim.

“I don’t know,” he grins rouglishy, “I kinda think it’s more fun without them.”

Chapter Text

On leaving Yoongi’s room you automatically head towards the living room to go find the others, playfully swinging yours and Yoongi’s linked hands back and forth as you stroll.  When you reach the entrance hall, however, Yoongi steers you off in a different direction, leading you up the stairs and making a left turn instead.  You’ve never been up this way before, not on this floor, but you presume this must be where some of the other boys bedrooms must be.  Sure enough, as you make your way down the corridor you begin to hear the voices of the others intermingling with sounds of a TV, and when you arrive at a door that's stood slightly ajar Yoongi comes to a halt, pulling you backward and into his arms.  You smile as they cocoon you and hold you close, Yoongi smiling softly too as he leans down to rest his forehead on yours.  

“Do I have to let you go?” he asks cutely, giving you a squeeze and making you scrunch up your nose at him.

“Careful, Suga. ” Yoongi's eyes immediately widen as you hears you call by his imaginary stage name, and catching him so off guard leaves you feeling gleeful, “If people hear you saying things like that they might start thinking you're going soft.”

“I am soft,” he insists with a pout, making you laugh quietly as you sway the both of you from side to side.  

“I'm sure knowing that will make Kookie feel much better the next time you threaten to punch him in the head.”

“Alright,” he admits, “I'm soft with you, at least.” You smile bashfully, a blush forming on your cheeks and chest.  “Who the hell told you about that, anyway?”

“Jimin,” you grin playfully, Yoongi rolling his eyes at your answer, “He told me all about your ‘idol ambitions’.” He chuckles, shaking his head, and he’s about to speak when suddenly Hobi shouts over him, calling you from the other side of the door.  

“You guys coming in, or you just gonna stand out there all night?”  The two of you smile sheepishly at each other as you start to pull away and unloop your arms from around his waist, but before you can stray too far Yoongi holds you still for just a moment longer to press the sweetest, softest of kisses against your lips.  You hum contentedly as Yoongi releases you, following after him with a dopey smile on your face as he enters the room ahead of you, hands in his pockets and completely casual.  You hope the guys didn’t hear too much of your conversation, but honestly, you’re so full of happiness right now that you’d find it hard to care even if they did.  

It takes you all of about two seconds to figure out whom this room belongs to - though the large flat-screened TV on the wall and gaming consoles in the shelving units underneath initially throw you off.  Your first instinct is to think that this must be where Kookie sleeps, but when you look around more closely you notice several shelves of brightly coloured plushies that just don’t seem to fit with him at all, maknae or not.  The closet in here is very large, too, and on the outside of it hangs several designer items of clothing that look as expensive as they do fashionable, and it’s on seeing those that you make up your mind.  This has to be Taehyung’s room, there’s no doubt about it, and the fact that he’s the only one of the four boys in there that’s sat on the unmade bed seems to reflect that.  

He calls your name cheerily as soon as you enter his room, sitting up straighter against the headboard and patting the space next to him in an obvious invitation.  You cautiously accept, knowing all too well just how handsy Taehyung’s been lately, taking his offer mostly because there’s no real space for you to sit anywhere else.

Jin’s taking up Tae’s deskspace and although he waves in your general direction he doesn’t look up, too busy frowning as he reads the back of a DVD held in his non-waving hand.  Jungkook's got a small pile stacked between his open legs where he’s sat slouched against the desk drawers, too.  His head snaps up as soon as he hears Tae utter your name, and as you approach the bed you give him a small, encouraging smile.  He's still awkward with you at the best of times - never quite able to look you directly in the eye - but right now he doesn’t seem to be having that problem.  It seems like he can’t keep them off of you, roaming up and down your body completely unchecked, his jaw clenching, and it isn't until you clear your throat uncomfortably that he seems to remember where he is and what he's doing.  His eyes meet yours, mouth falling open before they quickly dart away, the DVD is his hands suddenly becoming the most interesting thing in the world.  

You'd probably question his behaviour or wonder what was wrong with him, if it weren't for this being quite a standard interaction for the two of you these days.  You still keep hoping that one day it might better, but it seems like it might be a long time coming.  

You climb onto the bed and wiggle your way back to the pillows, leaving a good foot of space between you and Taehyung who's sat to your right, still looking far too pleased to see you.  Yoongi follows you there too, making himself comfortable on your left as he takes a pillow and cuddles it to his chest.  Is he squeezing it so hard because he’s wishing it were you?  You silently scold yourself for envying a piece of a bedding, wondering when on earth you turned into such a sap.  

“What're we watching?” you ask distractedly, crossing one ankle over the other and smoothing down your skirt, trying to make sure you’re not going to inadvertently expose yourself to the whole room.

“Apparently that's up to you,” Jin replies.  You look at him with a confused half-smile as he throws the DVDs he’d been looking at over onto the bed, within your reach.

“Why's that?”  You spread them out on the mattress in curiosity, your confusion only growing when you realise that every film is a favourite of yours.  

“Cus your boyfriend's disgusting,” Hobi chimes in from where he's sat at the foot of the bed, his thumbs tapping furiously at the touch screen of his phone.  He's one to talk about being disgusting; you'd recognise the silly little smile plastered on his face anywhere.  He must be texting Sam - there can't be any other explanation than that.  It’s nice to see him looking so happy, and you can bet that Sam will be grinning on the other end too, but it still makes you worry all the same.  You hope they don't rush into anything too fast…  Hobi could get careless if he lets himself get carried away.  

“What…?” You look questioningly at Jin, knowing that he’s the one who usually makes sense even when the others don’t.  

“I think Jimin- ah felt bad having to leave you on your own again,” Jin explains patiently, leaning back in the leather chair and crossing his legs.  “So he made us promise we’d watch something you like tonight.”  

“He picked the movies… oh, and there’s snacks too,” Taehyung chimes in, leaning over the side of the bed and bringing up several brightly coloured packets and plonking them in your lap.  There’s marshmallows, pretzels, gummy sweets… all the things you’ve mentioned craving over the past couple of weeks.  “Hope you’re hungry,” he grins.  A derisive snort comes from Jungkook’s direction.

“Smells like she’s already eaten to me,” he smirks, not even looking up from the cover he’s reading, flipping it over in his hand.  

It feels like your stomach has dropped through the floor when Jungkook says that, your cheeks immediately blazing beetroot red with shame as your hands come up to cover them.  Of course they can smell what you and Yoongi have just been up to; how could neither of you thought of that before coming up here?  And now they all know - and right after Hobi just referred to Jimin as your boyfriend, too.  You just want the ground to swallow you up whole and never resurface.  God, you can only imagination the terrible things each of them must be thinking about you; the judgements they’re making.

You feel like you’re about to burst into tears when you turn to look at Yoongi, your shining eyes wide, hands still covering most of your face.  He looks beyond angry, his eyes narrowed to slits as he glares murderously at Jungkook, furious at the other for so obviously upsetting you.  You feel a hand on your lower back that’s rubbing soothingly and after a second you realise it’s Taehyung that’s put it there, a sympathetic look on his face as Jin smacks the vampire sat as his feet round the head.  

“Don’t be so rude!” he scolds, frowning hard as he gives him an extra shove, too.  Hobi just looks scandalised, his eyes wide as he looks back and forth between Jungkook and you.  

“Mind your own fucking business, maknae ,” Yoongi snarls, his fingers clenching the pillow so tight that his knuckles have turned white.  

“I’m so embarrassed,” you whisper breathily to Taehyung as all this is going on, biting down on your bottom lip to keep from crying.  

“Hey, no, it’s ok,” Tae reassures you, leaning close so that his forehead is pressed to your temple, still rubbing your back, “You’re our girl… Kookie’s just jealous.”   

Their girl?  Do they really all care about you so much?  They’ve certainly not reacted the way you thought they would to finding out about the two of you, especially when they don’t know anything about your little ‘arrangement’ with Jimin.  No-one’s mad or looking at you unkindly - if anything they all seem far more bothered about the tears threatening in your eyes.  Maybe they know more than you think they do?  

“Whatever,” Jungkook shrugs, throwing his DVD onto the bed to join the others too, “It’s your funeral once Jimin finds out.”  Ok… or maybe they don’t.  At least not Kookie, anyway.  

An awkward silence settles over the room, the chattering of an ad on the TV the only thing filling the void whilst you try to collect yourself.  You really wish you could crawl into Yoongi’s arms and have him hold you till you feel better, but one more glance at his static bitch face makes it clear that he’s really not in a ‘soft’ mood right now, and it probably wouldn’t be the most appropriate thing to do anyway, not after what’s just been said.  

Attempting to push your embarrassment away, you dry your eyes and refocus them on the DVD’s that Taehyung’s pulled closer to the both of you, fanning them out across his lap for you to look at.  

“Are all of these musicals?”  Taehyung asks, picking up one after another and grimacing.  You’re still feeling a little fragile, but on reading the various titles a small smile still manages to creep its way onto your face; Jimin really did pick out all your favourites.  You’re can’t believe that he went to the trouble of arranging all this for you for basically no reason.  You’ve kept on telling him that you understand him having to go and you know that’s it not his choice or his fault.  Plus you’ve got Nova, after all, and the whole reason he bought her was to keep you company when he’s not around.  Not to mention the rest of the boys - and Yoongi.  He’s plenty entertaining, to say the least.   

You feel an uncomfortable stab of guilt when that thought crosses your mind.  Jimin’s done this lovely thing for you, and you’ve repaid him by fooling around with one of his closest friends while his back is turned.  And yes, you know he’d said he was willing to share you, but you still can’t help feeling that you’ve done something dishonest by not clearing it with him first.  Deep down you know it’s the fear of him saying no that’s kept you from asking before now.  The pull between Yoongi and you is too strong; just as strong as that attraction that led you to Jimin in the first place.  

You push those thoughts away too, promising yourself that you’ll revisit them later when you haven’t got a whole room waiting for you to make a decision.  God knows you’re indecisive at the best of times - the little love triangle you’ve got going on perfectly demonstrating just that.

“Looks like it, Tae.  Musicals or kids films,” you say, forcing a smile as you turn over ‘The Road to El Dorado’ in your hands to inspect the characters cartoony faces fondly.  You loved this film when you were growing up, and you still love it just as much now as an adult.  

“And they’ve all got songs in too, right?”  You nod, chuckling when Tae cringes again.  Since when doesn’t he like music, anyway?  He’s always singing around the house!  Pretty well at that, actually.  

“Can we watch this one first?”  you ask, leaning forward and meeting Jin halfway.  He takes it from your hand with a nod and sets about putting it on as you open up the bag of marshmallows on your lap and make a start on them, smacking your lips contentedly.  

“Just pray she doesn’t start singing too,” Yoongi comments dryly from the side of you.  You swivel on the spot to scowl at him indignantly, mouth full of half-chewed sugary goo.  Sure, he’d made fun of you in private for your complete lack of pitch, but you’d never expected him to make that public knowledge.  Still, it’s good to see him smiling again, even if it is just at the very corners of his mouth.  Yoongi eyes you suspiciously as you withdraw another marshmallow from the bag only to boop it against the tip of his nose.  It leaves a small, sugary mark behind that he brushes off with a mock glare but a growing smile, his fingers twitching on their way back down to his side like he wants to touch you but stops himself from doing so.  

The moment you hear the song that accompanies the opening credits you’re completely lost, forgetting all about what Jungkook said or the guilt you were feeling.  Suddenly you’re eight years old again and sat on your parent’s couch watching your most favourite film, stuffing in so many marshmallows and other sweet treats that you’ll end up being sick.  Happy, though.  Really happy.  You just wish Jimin were here already so you could thank him for being so wonderfully sweet to you, like always.  

The guys loved the film - and who wouldn’t?!  Ok, so Yoongi may have fallen asleep, but before that he looked like he was enjoying himself, and he very rarely ever makes it through a whole movie, so that doesn’t really mean anything anyway.  Hobi started to pay more attention once it got late enough that Sam must’ve gone to sleep, and you swear you heard Kookie humming along to some parts from where he’s now stretched out along the floor like some kind of abnormally muscular cat.  In fact, they liked it so much that they seem almost practically enthusiastic about your next choice; Moulin Rouge.  

The movie hasn’t long started when you give a little shiver, suddenly noticing how cold it’s getting when you look down and notice that your arms are covered in goosepimples.  Now that autumn is in full swing this large house isn’t holding it’s heat very well, and sharing a room with five ice-cold vampires doesn’t exactly do much to help the temperature either.  

“What’s up?” Tae whispers, obviously having felt you shudder.  

“Just cold,” you whisper back for fear of waking Yoongi and disturbing the others.  Taehyung just looks at you for a while, cogs evidently turning behind his wide, doe eyes, and then all of a sudden he’s re-arranging the two of you of the bed, somehow managing to take your spot and sit you in between his legs, your back leant against his chest.  You’re not entirely sure how this is meant to keep you warm - it’s not like he’s got body heat to share - but when he grabs hold of the blanket and pulls it over the both of you you kind of understand what he’s going for.  Still, at least he means well... Though when he decides to wrap his arms around you under the blankets rather than above them, you start to wonder if his intentions are actually so pure.  

“Comfy?” he asks, his mouth so close to your ear that his cold breath actually makes you shiver again.  

“Uh…” you hesitate, unsure of your answer.  It’s always nice to be held, and you’re sure that eventually you’ll warm up with help from the blankets he’s tucked around you, but… you can’t help but remember the feel of Taehyung’s fingertips as they crawled up your thighs last time you sat so close, and whilst it’s an undeniably pleasant memory, it still makes you a little nervous to be put in this position again.  “Yeah,” you finally reply, your voice quivering slightly, “Yeah I’m good.”  He squeezes you slightly, humming so quiet and low that the only reason you’re aware of it is because you can feel it rumbling in his chest.  

Mercifully, Taehyung seems to content to behave himself for now, watching the movie with no more than an infrequent stroke of your arm or a momentarily tightening of his hold.  It’s a shame that the others don’t seem to be enjoying this one so much, though.  It’s evident that they’re getting restless when pockets of conversation start to break out amongst the group, talk eventually leading back to their most frequent topic of late; the amount of missions Jimin’s getting, and its impact on their dietary intake.  

“I swear, at this rate I’m gonna have to go out and find something myself,” Jungkook mutters unhappily, dragging his thumb along his full bottom lip before letting his hand fall back into his lap.  Jin frowns down at him looking just as troubled, sighing.

“I know it’s hard, Jungkook -ah … but you know we’re not really supposed to-”  Jin glances up at you, his expression turning sheepish.  He’s obviously not comfortable with talking about hunting innocent civilians whilst you’re around, and you can understand why.  What Hobi and Jimin were doing when you first met them isn’t particularly encouraged amongst the group; a rare slip-up that you’re infinitely grateful for.  

“It’s alright Jin,” you shrug, willfully ignoring the way Tae’s got his nose nestled in the back of your hair, squeezing you once again, “I can’t imagine how hard it must be for you all.”  

“Mmm, you smell so nice,” you hear Taehyung muttering, almost to himself, clearly not paying an ounce of attention to the conversation that’s taking place.  This time you have to ignore the little shiver of pleasure that runs up your skin when you feel him place the flat of his palm against your stomach, the coolness of his skin seeping through to yours.  So much for him behaving himself.  

“Can’t someone speak to Namjoon about it?  Like, surely if you all go to him, as a group, he has to listen?”  You swallow, trying to keep your cool.  

“Someone needs to speak to me about what?”  How does he do that?  How does he always turn up at the very mention of his name?  You eyes snap to the door the moment his low, silken voice meets your ears, and there he is, loitering in the shadows of the doorway, leant against the frame with his arms folded and a smirk on his handsome face.  

Why does he have to be so attractive?  

You wait for someone - anyone - to speak, but nobody does, simply glancing at each other uncomfortably.  Even Taehyung’s hand has completely stilled against you, though it doesn’t withdraw altogether.  Sighing, you roll your eyes and take a deep breath, steeling yourself to speak.  You’ve had brief flashes of being able to stand up to Namjoon before; surely you can do it again?  You feel better having the others with you, too, even if they’re just as intimidated by him as you are.  

“They’re all hungry, Namjoon,” you tell him bravely, forcing yourself to maintain eye contact.  “You keep sending Jimin out so often that the others aren’t getting to feed enough.”  Namjoon’s chin lowers slightly, eyebrows lifting up.  

“Is that right, guys?” he asks them, casting his eyes around the room.  Jin, Hobi and Taehyung all murmur their agreement, and eventually Jungkook nods along too, looking at the others rather than directly at Namjoon.  A moment passes in which you simply can’t fathom what direction his reaction is going to take, whether it be rage or indifference, but within seconds Namjoon’s arms drop to his sides and he shrugs, smiling as he straightens up from the door frame.  “Fair enough.”  

“Really?” Tae asks before he can help himself and Namjoon lets out a breathy chuckle, stepping a pace inside.  

“I wouldn’t be a very good leader if I didn’t listen to the rest of the group, would I?”  You regard him with a hint of suspicion, one of your eyebrow raising at his unexpected reply.  You’re glad that he’s being so reasonable, of course, but it just seems so out of character for him that you can’t help but think there must be some sort of catch.  “Jimin will still have to lead the missions, of course, but you can take it in turns to accompany him.”  

“Couldn’t two of the others team up for a change?”  you ask impulsively, eager to find a solution that might mean that Jimin gets to spend more time at home.  He shakes his head immediately; unfortunately Namjoon’s generosity clearly isn’t willing to stretch that far.  

“Jimin’s far more skilled and experienced than the rest,” Namjoon explains, hands shoved deep in the pockets of his sweatpants,  “You wouldn’t want any of them getting any more hurt than Yoongi did the last time, would you?”  He smiles a little twistedly, his eyes flickering to the sleeping vampire to your left and making you look too, recalling the bruises he’d come home with that you hadn’t been able to heal.  No, you wouldn’t want that for any of them.  

“Alright,” you concede, letting yourself sag back against Taehyung’s chest, quite thankful now to have him holding you the way he is.  It helps you feel a little more solid, a little more secure to be wrapped up in his arms.  

A new song starts playing on the TV, loud in the otherwise silent room, and it grabs Namjoon’s attention, turning his shapely face turning to face the screen.  

“Ah, Moulin Rouge,” he observes, a genuine smile taking the place of the one warped one that was there before as he gestures to the screen.  “I love this film.”  He does?  Namjoon loves this?  He really is full of surprises.  He walks further into the room, coming round to the side of the bed where Taehyung was sat before and putting himself in that empty space right next to your side with a devilish grin and a glint in his eyes that worries you.  The others don’t seem too concerned though, apparently mollified by Namjoon’s uncommon good mood and turning their attentions back to the screen without a care in the world.  Even Taehyung’s hand starts shifting again too, his fingers brushing against your side.  “Mind if I join you?”  

Chapter Text

Seriously?  He’s really doing this?  

“Sure.”  You resist the urge to elbow Taehyung in the stomach as he invites Namjoon to make himself comfortable on the bed next to the two of you.  You can’t exactly blame him for being polite, can you?  It’s not like he knows that he’s inadvertently left you sandwiched between two vampires who historically cannot keep their hands to themselves.  

“This looks cosy,” he comments as he pulls back the covers enough to climb in, his sharp eyes immediately spotting the way Taehyung’s got his arms around you, his hand still splayed across your stomach.  “Very cosy.”  You hold your breath while Namjoon settles in, pulling the covers back over the three of you again with a sly smile.  You’re covered almost up to your neck, all three sets of arms hidden from view by the weighty blanket, and Namjoon hasn’t exactly given much thought to personal space - his side is completely flush with Taehyung’s and by extension of that; yours too.  God, why does he enjoy torturing you so much?  And why does he even have such an effect on you anyway?  None of the others fill you with this much apprehension, even Taehyung, with his not-so-subtle advances.  

As you note the way your heart is thudding wildly, you suddenly recall what Jimin had said to you once about his ability to hear it inside your chest, and as soon as that memory enters your mind you immediately start to panic.  What if Namjoon can hear it too, thundering away?  Of course, worrying about that only makes it start to pound even harder, your snack-filled stomach twisting with nausea.  You decide to just try and act as casually as possible in an attempt to normalise his presence.  If he actually spent more time with the group him showing up probably wouldn’t even be so much of a big deal.  

“I wouldn’t have thought that Moulin Rouge was really your style,” you say to him once you’ve calmed yourself enough to know that the words won’t shake on their way out.  

“We already established that we aren’t very good judges of each other’s taste once before, didn’t we?” he answers without taking his eyes off the screen, looking bemused.  You blush lightly, remembering that perfectly pleasant conversation you’d had with him in the study, once.  Why couldn’t he be like that all the time?  “As it happens, I love Baz Luhrmann’s movies.  Gatsby, Romeo and Juliet… Moulin Rouge.”  

“What do you like about them?” you ask before you can help yourself, keeping your voice quiet.  Namjoon may scare you, but he's also still as intriguing as ever.  He has such a quick, intelligent mind that you can’t resist picking into it whenever you get the chance.  He pauses thoughtfully, pursing his lips together and glancing your way.  

“He has a style of writing and direction that you don’t really see with anyone else.  Like here, for example,” Namjoon begins, nodding his head toward the screen.  

You absent-mindedly wonder whether Taehyung is listening in on your conversation too or whether he’s caught up in the film again; either way he’s silent, only the rise and fall of his chest behind you and the subtle movement of his fingers stroking your side a reminder that he’s there.  

“He bombards the audience.  Light, sound,  colour - to the point where it’s almost overwhelming.  There’s so much noise, so much going on that you don’t know where to look.”  You nod along listening eagerly and Namjoon twists his torso to look at you while he’s speaking, a light shining behind his eyes that you’ve never seen there before.  

“Then suddenly he’ll cut to that stark, pale close-up of Satine’s face and everything goes quiet and stops.”  He pauses, and you realise that you’re holding your breath again.  “It’s enthralling.”  

It’s at that moment when you come to realise that it’s you that’s being enthralled here.  Everything about Namjoon is so intense; whether it be when he’s trying to intimidate you, seduce you, or simply sharing his knowledge and passion.  He could talk to you about the most mundane of topics and you’re sure you’d find it interesting - caught in his gaze and lured in by that smile.  

“Of course, everyone loves a tragic love story,” he adds with a knowing smile, those cheek dimples of his making an appearance.  

“That’s true,” you agree, trying not to sound too breathy.  There goes your heart again, running away with itself, your throat suddenly dry.   “I prefer a happy ending though.  Seems like one of the lovers always ends up dead when he’s directing.”  Namjoon’s smile grows wider, colder and more ruthless.  

“That’s the fun part.”  An involuntary shudder runs through you, any warmth that you’d managed to accumulate over the past thirty minutes disappearing, swept away by the icy cold undercurrent of Namjoon’s words.  

You drag your eyes from him, looking down at the covers as you try to subtly let out a shaking breath.  Taehyung must have felt that shudder because now his arms are tightening around you again, one hand rubbing your arm and the other your side, moving up and down briskly and shaking your insides.  You see Namjoon watching out of the corner of your eye and you’re suddenly extra conscious of every movement Tae makes.  Frankly, though, weren’t you already?

“It’s alright Tae, I’m not that cold,” you tell him, trying to dissuade him from becoming overly physical when Namjoon is playing such close attention to everything you do.  You lean your head back on his shoulder to look up at him but end up finding yourself much closer to his face than you’d originally anticipated, his blonde fringe practically dangling into your eyes.  

“But you’re still covered in goosebumps,” he observes, his hands running down each of your arms from top to bottom and only exacerbating the problem.  

All of a sudden Namjoon leans over and whispers something directly into Taehyung’s ear, something that twists the relaxed set of his wide mouth into an uncharacteristic smirk as he whispers something back.  Namjoon’s smile is wicked as he pulls away, his eyes fixed on yours, and it doesn’t take long for you to realise that he’s just said something that’s egged the younger vampire on; you can tell by the way Taehyung’s licking his lips, squeezing his grip around each of your wrists.  

Namjoon leans forward, his plump lips making contact with the outer shell of your ear before he whispers into it.   

“We’re just wondering if nipples are hard too, little one.”  You have no idea whether were or not before you’d heard those words, but the moment they pass Namjoon’s lips you’re suddenly excruciatingly aware of how badly both swollen buds are rubbing against the inside of your bra.  Are you really that cold, or is your body so eager to respond to Namjoon that he can simply will it into a physical reaction with just one silken purr?  

Apparently, they mean to find out.  Before you can summon a response Taehyung’s hands have left your wrists and are rooting around under the blanket, searching for the hem of your blouse, and the moment he finds it he wastes no time in lifting it up and hooking it over the tops of your breasts, exposing them under the covers.  He’s never been this bold before, not ever, and you know it must be almost entirely down to Namjoon’s bad influence that he’s acting this way.  

“What-?” you start to ask, your gaze snapping back and forth between Taehyung and Namjoon.  They both have the same dark, lusty look in their eyes, and when you start to speak Namjoon presses a long finger to his lips and gently shushes you, flicking his eyes in the direction of the others as a warning to keep quiet and ensure that their actions remain unnoticed.  

“You wouldn’t want them finding out about this, too, now would you?”  You close your mouth, swallowing hard, knowing that the deep, red blush that’s creeping onto your cheeks is the only thing that could tip the others off about what’s currently going on underneath Taehyung’s blankets.  His long, gentle fingers are running across the small swell of your stomach and up towards your sternum, dancing along the underwiring of your bra, and all the time you’re struggling to breathe without panting, looking back and forth between the two of them with wide eyes.  

“Tell me to stop,” Taehyung murmurs into your ear unexpectedly, one hand brushing across the soft swell of your breast, “And I will.”  You have to bite back a gasp as that hand slips into the cup of your bra and immediately begins to knead its contents firmly, his other quickly doing the same.  He rolls your nipples between his fingers and you fight the urge to whimper, your back bending against him as your core throbs.  “Just tell me to stop…”

You turn your head to the side where its laid back on Taehyung’s shoulder, drawn to the visage of Namjoon you know will be waiting, and sure enough he’s staring right back at you, like he was just waiting for you to look.  The corner of his mouth twitches in amusement as he watches your mouth flop open and your eyebrows crease in an expression of pleasure as Tae pulls on one of your nipples, just hard enough to shoot pleasure-pain straight down your spine to the juncture of your legs.  

Thank god they’ve already smelled you once this evening, or else you’d be worried about the others smelling the arousal you know is inevitably pooling on the back of your skirt now, too, and you could do without Jungkook making a fool out of you more than once this evening.  Luckily, they all seem sufficiently distracted by the movie, and Yoongi’s still flat out to the left of you, his face relaxed and his breathing steady.  

Yoongi… you wonder what he’d make of this if he were awake.  Would he join in… would he get mad?   Would he even be justified in doing so?  It’d make him a little bit of a hypocrite, after all, but then who are you to really talk?  You’re just about to start to feeling guilty again when you abruptly lose the ability to form any kind of coherent thought, Namjoon’s hand coming to settle on your knee and squeezing hard.  

“You’re so soft,” Taehyung groans softly as he manipulates each of your breasts in his palms.  You feel him shift behind you, calling attention to the large erection pressing insistently into your back as Namjoon’s hand creeps higher, up into the wetness smeared along your upper thighs, pushing your skirt back along the way.  His fingers brush against your pubic bone, probably expecting to find underwear there, and even though you have absolutely no control in this situation you can’t help but smirk at the shocked look that passes over Namjoon’s face, delighting in being able to surprise the usually unshakable vampire, if only for a second.  His eyes press closed for a second as he mouths a silent ‘fuck’, but when they open again they’re blazing with heat and Namjoon’s looking at you like he wants to tear you from Taehyung’s grasp and fuck you right here.  

It really is only for a second that you’re given to feel self-satisfied.  The smirk that had been twisting your mouth is ripped from you the moment Namjoon’s fingers slide lower and into your folds, rubbing back and forth between them.  You almost slip up then, barely managing to smother a moan by pressing your lips together tighter than you ever have before.  You look to Taehyung, widening your eyes pleadingly - though what you’re pleading for you have no idea - but he looks just as lust-drunk as Namjoon, his chest heaving behind you, chewing on his bottom lip.  His pretty eyes can’t look away, fixated on the pleasure contorting your face as it heightens his own, moving his hips subtly to grind against you and find some relief.  

Thank God no-one has the presence of mind to turn around and look at the three of you, because you’re pretty sure it’d be starkly obvious what you’re all up to now, your faces all so close that your heavy breaths are intermingling.  

“Tae, feel how wet she is,” Namjoon grunts, “The little slut hasn’t even got any panties on.”  Taehyung unquestioningly follows his elders lead, one hand slipping out from your bra and heading for the apex of your thighs where Namjoon’s fingers are now rubbing at your clit.  You clench your legs together in panic, squeezing Namjoon’s hand, knowing that if Taehyung joins in too you’ll really be lost.  You won’t be able to keep quiet, no way.  Even now you’re amazed no one has caught on, probably only thanks to the way Jungkook is never able to watch the TV at an appropriate volume.  

Your resistance draws a growl from Namjoon’s throat, his eyes flashing dangerously.  His hand leaves your core to yank your legs apart, holding them open to make way for Taehyung’s to slide downward and carry on where he left off, and when Tae pinches your clit your body practically bucks against him, the bed making a singular, solitary creak that you can’t seem to care about when your whole core is practically on fire.  

“Fuck, so wet,” Tae breathes into your ear, rubbing his fingertip against your opening, “Wanna play with you for real… all night…”  

“She wants it too, Tae -ah ,” Namjoon whispers breathily, more for you than Taehyung, his hand returning to its previous position now that he knows you’ve been successfully seduced into submission, “She’ll take all the cock she can get.”  He rubs your clit harshly, his fingers bumping against Taehyung’s amongst the wet mess between your legs, and when the younger vampire’s fingers start to dip inside of you, breaching your walls, you can take it no longer.

You’re on the verge of an orgasm, your legs shaking between Taehyung’s, when you grab both of their hands and try to pull them away, breathing out,

“Stop, stop.”  Taehyung immediately ceases the movement of his hand and lets you move it away, his fingers slipping out of you and leaving you achingly empty inside, but unfortunately Namjoon seems to have other ideas.  His fingers simply replace Taehyung’s, thrusting in savagely, a twisted smirk on his face as you bite your lip so hard that you break skin.  

“She said stop,” Taehyung growls, grabbing the other vampire’s wrist and yanking it away from you in a display of courage that surprises you, considering how nervous Namjoon usually makes them all.  Namjoon blinks, the smile falling from his face as he falters, and you take that opportunity to quickly throw the covers back and climb out of the bed, over their laps, not bothering with an explanation to the others as you quickly exit the room on wobbling legs.  Namjoon will probably come up with a believable excuse for you anyway, master of manipulation that he is.  

You’re halfway down the corridor on the way to Jimin’s room when someone suddenly grabs hold of your shoulder.  You never heard them coming past your ragged, uneven breaths and when they spin your round of the spot to face them you start, gasping, every part of you tensing in panic because you’re convinced that it’ll be Namjoon there waiting for you.  

It’s not though; it’s Taehyung stood in front of you, his eyes wide with concern and his hand still resting on your shoulder.  He gives it a gentle squeeze, softly saying your name as he watches you visibly sag with relief.

“Are you alright?” he asks cautiously.  The expression on his face almost makes it look like he’s expecting you to be mad at him, but in reality you’re anything but.  “I’m sorry about Namjoon… I didn’t mean for it to go so far.   You’re so pretty, Jagi , I just wanted to see-”  Taehyung doesn’t get chance to finish his sentence; he’s too busy absorbing the weight of you as you crash into his arms, throwing your arms around his waist and pressing your cheek to his chest.  Tentatively, he returns your embrace, maintaining a careful amount of space between the two of you.  

“It’s alright, Tae, ok?” you murmur into him, “We all got a bit carried away.”  

“Yeah, we did.”  You tilt your chin up to look at him, smiling back at the adorable boxy grin that greets you.  He scrunches up his nose and eyes, giving you a squeeze, and when he relaxes his hold you start to wriggle out of it.  

“I ought to go.. Y’know,” you grin, glancing downward to your skirt and trying to fight against the blood rushing to your cheeks.   You completely miss the way his eyes follow yours hungrily, biting his lip as you turn, but before you can get away he grabs hold of your hand again, pulling you back to him and then promptly pushing you against the wall with a thud.   He keeps you pressed there, shocked and wide-eyed, using his body weight to pin you with his forearms resting on the wall either side of your head, silent but regarding you with such intensity that you feel like you might burst into flame at any moment.  Taehyung’s still aroused, too, his erection digging into your hip rather than your back this time, and feeling it there makes you core start to throb all over again, still craving the orgasm you so recently deprived yourself of.  

“Do you like me?” he asks after what feels like forever, leaning over you and leaving very little space between your faces, so close that you can only look at one of his eyes at a time, darting between the two whilst your heart races.  

“Sure I do,” you answer nervously, fairly certain that he doesn’t mean in a platonic way but going for that anyway, “We’re friends, right?”  A rare look of frustration passes over Taehyung’s face as he shakes his head slightly.

“I don’t mean like that,” he re-iterates, pushing his hips into yours to emphasise his point, an involuntary whimper falling from your lips, “I mean the way you like Jimin… and Yoongi- hyung .”  You bite your lip, already knowing you answer but unsure as to whether you should admit it or not.  

You’re attracted to Taehyung, of course you are.  Who wouldn’t be? It’s purely a sexual attraction with Taehyung, though, nothing more, and you get the feeling it’s the same for him.  He’s always regarding you with a certain hungry curiosity, but he’s never gone out of his way to spend extra time with you or get to know each other on a deeper level.  No, Taehyung just wants to jump your bones, and honestly… you’re more than ok with that.   

Slowly, a shy smile forms on your face as you push back into Taehyung.  His tongue darts out to moisten his lips, an eager, excited look behind his eyes.

“Do you really need to ask, Tae?” you say huskily, looking up at him from under your lashes, “Doesn’t what you felt earlier answer that question for me?”  He glances downward to where you hips meet, still tonguing the corner of his mouth with his lips parted, his breathing starting to get harder with each passing second.  

“Maybe…” He hesitates, licking his lip and shifting his hips again, “Maybe I should  have another feel, just to make sure...”  You giggle softly, amused the feeble excuse that precedes his hand finding its way under you skirt again, inevitably drawn back towards the warm, wet heat he knows is lingering there.  You let his fingers trail higher with bated breath, loving the way Taehyung’s breath hitches in his throat when he feels that slick arousal at the apex of your thighs.  “God, Jagi, you’re so warm right here…”  Taehyung trails off, his eyes closing, lips parting and head tilting to the side as he takes those first few slow exploratory touches of your core.  

You let him have that, smiling to yourself at the look of bliss on his face when he lets a finger tip slip inside.  You've no idea what's come over you.  The girl you were a couple of months ago never would have dreamed of acting this way; of giving herself over so freely to whomever desires her and acting so brazenly.  You love it, though, addicted to the rush you get on seeing that look of their faces, that look that you know is them being torn between wanting to fuck you senseless or eat you alive.  

You know Taehyung is going to lose his mind soon, that one finger starting to slowly slide in deeper, a second threatening to join it, and it takes all the strength you can muster to take hold of his wrist and pull it back, smiling teasingly at him.  Really you’re teasing yourself just as much; every nerve ending in your body screaming for release.  

“Nuh-uh,”  you coo softly, revelling in the look of confusion in his eyes when they opens.   You lift his hand to your open waiting mouth and guide his finger inside, holding him in your gaze as you suck it clean and then drag it out again past your lips and teeth.  Taehyung’s entranced, staring at your mouth as his hangs open, licking his lips when you lick yours.  “You’ve got to get Jimin’s permission, first.”  

“His permission?” he repeats uncertainly, his eyes travelling back up to yours.  

“Mmhm,” you confirm with a nod, pushing your hips into his for the sheer hell of it and biting your smirking lip when it makes him hiss.  

“You-you should ask him,” he falters, clearly a little nervous at the prospect but still aroused enough to be pawing at your hip, squeezing the flesh there.  

“Why’s that?” you persist, slowly sliding your hands down the front in his shirt and tracing the outline of the lithe muscle hiding underneath.  Taehyung’s skin is ever so slightly darker than the rest of the group, and you can only imagine how good he’d look naked if the feel of his solid chest and generous erection are anything to go by.   Your provocative behaviour is obviously starting to get the better of Taehyung; his body’s practically shaking with want as he rubs himself against your stomach.  

“I’m fun to play with, Jagi, I promise.”  The boy sounds almost like he’s begging, and it stirs something in you that you didn’t know existed.  You’re so used to being dominated by Jimin that to feel like the one in control is a rather pleasurable novelty; one you could get used to.  “I have lots and lots of toys...”

“Toys?” Curiosity gets the better of you, your seductress act slipping as you wonder what little delights Taehyung must have hidden away somewhere and knowing instantly that you want to find out.  He nods, wide-eyed and chewing his bottom lip, adorable yet completely fuckable all at once. “Ok, Tae,” you smile, running your finger down his bridge of his nose and then tapping the rounded tip, “I’ll ask my daddy if I can come and play.”  

Chapter Text

The very first thing you do when you get back to Jimin’s room is take a long, hot shower.  It’s not that you’re trying to wash evidence away - you’ve already made up your mind that you’re going to tell him about what happened with you and Yoongi, and what you’d like to happen with Taehyung - it’s just that it seems to be the only way to force your body to calm the hell down.  You’re wound so tight that even washing yourself has you biting back little moans, your core throbbing as the washcloth brushes over it.  You’re craving Jimin’s touch so badly, and it’s only knowing that he’ll be home soon that keeps you from pleasuring yourself all alone.   

You feel a million times fresher as you step out of the shower and wrap yourself loosely in one of Jimin’s grey towels, letting your hair dangle wet down your back.  Nova’s waiting for you when you step back into his room, taking a break from sharpening her claws on the scratchpost to saunter over and rub herself around your wet ankles, purring.  

“Hey pretty girl,” you greet, bending down to stroke her from head to tail, her back arching along the way.  Scooping her up in your arms you once again thank the Gods for sending you such an unusually tolerant cat, planting a kiss on the top of her fuzzy head.  “I bet your life isn’t this complicated, is it, hmm?”  She stares up at you indifferently with her wide green eyes and you smile down at her, chuckling at yourself for half expecting a reply.  

You sit yourself down on the bed and place Nova down beside you with a yawn, eyeing the pillows.  It’s not quite time for bed yet and you know you should really get dressed and dry your hair, but the bed is so welcoming and the pillow is so soft, and you’re so emotionally and physically drained from today’s events that you just can’t help yourself.  You crawl under the covers, curling up as Nova does the same and falling asleep almost instantly.

The soft clicking of the latch on Jimin’s door as it’s pushed closed is all it takes to pull you from your heavy sleep.  You sit up immediately, still half-asleep and disorientated as you force your eyes open, grimacing at the damp patch your wet hair has left on the pillow underneath your hand but forgetting about it completely when you see Jimin stood in the doorway smiling back at you.  

“You couldn’t wait for me, kitten?” he asks sweetly, dropping his bag onto the floor by his side and beckoning you with a simple raising of his eyebrows and cock of his head.  You smile excitedly as you extract yourself from the covers and secure the towel around your still slightly damp frame before rushing to him, your heart fluttering with happiness.  It doesn’t matter how long he’s been gone, or what you might have gotten up to while he’s been away; your feelings for Jimin never change or weaken.  You’re still as besotted with him now as you were the moment you met.  

He opens his arms and you gladly slot into the space he makes for you, draping your arms around his waist as he pulls you even tighter to him and presses his nose into your raspberry-scented hair.  

“I missed you,” you murmur against the black t-shirt he’s wearing.  It smells like smoke and sweat as it often does when when he's been out doing god knows what, and you'd never for a moment thought you'd come to enjoy it, but it's synonymous with Jimin now, so love it you do.  

“Always, kitten,” he replies, kissing the top of your head.  “Did you have a nice time with Sam?”

God, so much has happened between dinner last night and now that it feels like it a lifetime ago.  You pull away enough to look up at him, smiling sweetly.

“Mhmm,” you nod.

“And when you got home?”

“You know I did.”  Your smile gets wider as Jimin's grows, his eyes sparkling with happiness even though he's tired.  You press a gentle, loving kiss to the soft curve of his mouth.  “Thank you for going to all that effort for me.  You didn't have to.”  He tucks a wayward lock of hair behind your ear and it crosses your mind what a mess you must look; letting yourself fall asleep with wet hair is never a good idea.  

“Yes, I did,” he disagrees, obstinate as always.  You give out a loud sigh of mock-exasperation, rolling your eyes, but it only makes Jimin laugh lightly and squeeze you in his arms.  He's in such a good humour that his face is practically glowing, and you're totally and utterly captivated once again, content to just lapse into silence and gaze up at him.

You only wish his face weren’t covered in so many nicks and bruises, and that there wasn't cause for him to wince when you tighten your arms just a little too much around his ribs.  

“Jimin…” He's busy running his thumb along your cheek and learning every detail of your face, ‘hmming’ distractedly when you say his name.  “Why aren't you feeding when you're gone? Why’re you torturing yourself, keeping yourself hurt like this?”  

You wish you could give him the blood he needs to heal every time he comes back injured but that'd be impossible to do without causing detriment to your own health and you both know it, so you can't understand why he isn't taking the opportunity to feed from his targets that are destined to die by his hand anyway.   True, you don't like the thought of it - feeding Jimin feels so intimate now - but you'd still prefer that to him suffering.  

“I kind of thought you might not like the idea of me feeding from anyone else,” he explains, speaking softly as he smoothes back your hair again.  How is it that he always know exactly how you feel without you even having to tell him?  Bashfully you smile, leaning your cheek into his hand when he caresses it.  “Besides… you're the only one I want.”

The remorse that suddenly overcomes you at hearing Jimin’s sweet words is so potent that it feels like you've been punched in the gut, all your insides turning topsy-turvy as the smile drops from your face.   You don't deserve him, you really don't.

He doesn't notice your abrupt change in mood until the tears start to spring from your eyes and streak down your cheeks, but once Jimin does his expression crumples as well, his second hand rising up to cup your face too.

“Why’re you crying?” he asks concernedly, twisting his head to try to look in your eyes as you purposefully duck them away, too ashamed of yourself to look at him, “Did I say something wrong?”  

“No,” you deny instantly, not wanting him to think for even a second that any of this is his fault.  You place your hands over his to try and pull them away and distance yourself, but Jimin’s grip remains gentle yet steadfast.  “I don’t deserve you,” you cry miserably, echoing your earlier thoughts with your eyes fixed firmly on the floor.  

“Why would you say that, kitten?” Jimin’s got his lips pressed to your forehead as he speaks, giving up on trying to tilt your face upward and wrapping his arms around your shoulders instead, letting you cry against his chest.  

“Because,” you sob, pausing to hiccup, your fist curled up by your mouth between the two of you. You screw your eyes up tight, trying to muster the courage to confess the reason that you’re so unworthy of all his love and sweetness.  “Because while you were out there arranging movie nights and starving yourself for me…” You stop, choking back a sob as you peek up at him, tears still streaming down your face, “I was back here… with Yoongi.”  

The softness that had been so abundant on Jimin’s face starts to fade the very moment those words pass your lips, his eyes flicking back and forth between yours as they sink in.  It twists into something hard and unreadable, and you find that more frightening than the angry outburst you were expecting.  

“Did you sleep with him?” he asks, tone clipped.   You shake your head quickly, too nervous now to even cry but your eyes stinging in the aftermath, your breath shaking on inhale and exhale alike.  “Then what did you do?” Blushing, you can’t bring yourself to say the words, your mouth opening and closing but no nothing  coming out.  Jimin takes hold of your chin firmly, his eyes narrowing.  “If you can’t say it, you shouldn’t be doing it.”  You swallow, hard.

“I… I sucked his cock,” you whisper, looking for any kind of reaction on Jimin’s face but not finding any to speak of.  He’s just waiting for more; calmly, expressionlessly.  “And he licked me…”

“Where did he lick you?”  Your blush that was once baby pink starts to glow scarlet red at his questioning, all the blood in your body rushing to your cheeks.   You start to fiddle nervously with the bottom of your towel, twisting it between your fingers.

“Down there,” you reply, flicking your eyes downward.  

“Down where?” he persists, the pitch of his voice dropping to a growl.   

“My pussy.”  Your reply is barely audible, tears dripping down anew.  You don’t for a second expect Jimin to wipe them away, but that’s exactly what he does with his thumbs, leaning down to kiss you fleetingly.

“I would’ve liked to see that,” he murmurs against your lips, breath tickling, and suddenly instead of nausea in your belly there’s heat instead, your face the very picture of surprise when he straightens.  “Anything else you need to tell me?”  

“When we were watching the movie…”  you begin, no longer feeling quite so nervous after receiving that last entirely unexpected reaction, “Taehyung started touching me… and I let him.”  Jimin’s eyebrows rise infinitesimally, and he doesn’t ask you to elaborate but you do anyway.  “M-My breasts and my pussy.”   You leave out Namjoon, and honestly you’re not entirely sure why.  Perhaps it’s because of the all-too-obvious tension that’s between them already; somehow you can’t imagine that Jimin would ever want you share you with him, whether he was present or not.  

“In front of everyone?” Jimin asks, and you swear you can hear a hint of amusement in his voice even if his face doesn’t show it.  You nod slowly, biting your lip.  

All of a sudden Jimin’s huffing a laugh, slinging one arm around your shoulder and cupping the back of your head in his hand to pull you into the crook of his neck, swaying you slightly.  

“My kitten is such a bad, greedy baby girl, isn’t she?”  Relief washes over you, all of your muscles sagging against Jimin’s solid form as he holds you tight.  

“You’re not mad?” you ask, turning your head to look at up him from your spot on his shoulder.  

“I’m not mad because i’m not stupid,” he replies, smiling knowingly, his dark eyes glinting.  “I know how you and Yoongi -hyung look at each other… and it was only a matter of time before Tae got his hands on you.”  You flash a little smile back up at him, your hands that’d been nervously clenched at your sides coming up to hold onto his belt loops.  “You’re still in trouble though, kitten, make no mistake.”  

“I am…?”  Jimin nods slowly, thumbing your bottom lip, his smile turning sly and dangerous and wholly arousing.  

“There have to be consequences when you break the rules,” he purrs, “Good girls get rewards… but bad girls have to be punished.”  Suddenly you’re struggling to breathe, your chest heaving beneath the towel tied so tightly around it.  

“But I didn’t know the rules…” you say huskily, frightened and excited all at once at what this ‘punishment’ might entail.  

“There’s only two to remember, kitten, it’s not hard.  First; you have to ask for daddy’s permission before you go and play.  And secondly; whatever you do with them, you do with me afterwards too.”  He cocks his head to the side, strands of grey hair falling into his pretty eyes as he licks his lips.  “It’s up to you whose cock you take and how often, kitten… but you’re wrong if you think I’ll go easy on you.  I won’t care if you’re sore, or if you’re tired; that’ll be your own fault for being such a greedy girl.  If you’re taking their cock, you’re taking mine too.”  

Is this heaven or hell in which you’ve found yourself tonight?  Jimin may look like an angel but right now he’s smiling like the devil, leading you into temptation from which you aren’t sure you’ll ever return.  How could you ever have a normal relationship ever again after one like this?  Saying that, you don’t think you’d ever want to anyway.  Jimin’s ruining you, and you’re happy to let him.  

“Think you can do that?” he prompts when you just stand there mutely, your pulse thudding in your ears.  

“Yes, uh-huh.”  Your answer comes quicker than you expected it to as you nod your head eagerly and obediently.  One of Jimin’s eyebrows lifts and he taps your chin with his forefinger smartly.  

“Is that how you speak to me?”  Shuffling on the spot your cast your eyes downward, chewing your lip nervously.  

“No - yes, daddy, I’ll remember, I promise.”  

“Good.”  Jimin unexpectedly steps back a pace to separate you, reaching out and untucking the corner of your towel that’s holding the whole thing in place and letting go so it falls and pools round your feet.  You squirm as Jimin’s gaze roves over your body, still not quite confident enough to withstand with the thoroughness of these little examinations without at least blushing and looking away.  “Turn around.”  You do as you’re told instantly, breathing a sharp inhale.  “Lean over the bed, palms flat, legs spread, ass up. ”  The walk towards Jimin’s bed feels like the longest you’ve ever taken in your life, trying to sashay your hips because you know how closely he’s watching but probably looking more akin to Bambi learning to walk, given how weak your knees feel.  

You follow Jimin’s instructions to letter, mimicking the position he described and then waiting, staring at the opposite wall as you try to concentrate on steadying your breath rather than just how exposed you are spread open like this.  You wish you knew what Jimin had in store for you.  The anticipation is driving you mad, every second he keeps you waiting feeling like an hour.  Is he going to fuck you like this?  He takes you from behind more often than not, and you quickly surmised that Jimin favours that position because he can get deeper, go harder, and still watch you come apart underneath him.  It also gives him perfect access to your silky soft hair which he so loves to pull; nothing quite gets you writhing on the end of his cock like doing that.

Jimin's denim wrapped thighs meet the back of yours, his hand coming to rest around the clasp of your collar as he leans down over you to speak directly into your ear.  

“How many times did you cum without me today, kitten?”  It takes a good few seconds to actually work it out - there were so many times when you almost did that it's a bit of a blur.

“Once, just once,” you answer, feeling his hand leave the back of your neck and start to caress its way lower, snaking down your spine.

“And how many times should you have asked for my permission?”

“Two times, daddy.”  You shudder as Jimin's palm kneads your tailbone, your pelvic floor clenching with excitement.  You're wet between your legs now, so ready to take whatever he gives you.

“How many does make?”  It's a good job the numbers weren't higher or more complicated - your head’s hardly in a fit state to perform mental arithmetic.  

“Three.”  Your voice is breathless, a small whimper trembling out of you when Jimin’s palm comes to rest on one pert, rounded buttock, kneading the flesh greedily.  

“Three it is, then,” he purrs, smiling against the shell of your ear.  Three?  Three what?  “You know what a safeword is, kitten?”  You nod uncertainly, sure that you've heard Sam mention something like that before but not really remembering… “We’ll use ‘plush’, ok?”  It might seem like a randomly selected word, but you recognise it instantly as the name of the club you first met in, and despite the position you’re in the fact that he remembers it and considers it important enough to use makes you smile.  

Jimin straightens up but continues to palm your behind, the cold weight of his body lifting from your back, and your mind is pulled back to the present, butterflies swirling nervously in your stomach.  Why do you need a safeword?  What’s he-?

Jimin’s touch that'd been so loving and soft changes into something savage when he abruptly draws his hand back and delivers a hard, open-palmed spank to your right buttock.  The sound of your cry is almost as loud as the smack, your body jolting when it connects, leaving behind a sharp, stinging pain that radiates all over.  It fades into a deep throb of pleasure right between your legs, your face heating up, confused by your own reaction.  You don't really get any real time to analyse this new and strangely pleasant turn of events before a second blow is dealt, even harder than the first.  

“Ah-ah!” you shout stiltedly, your ass on fire underneath Jimin’s now soothing hand.  

“Red looks so good on you kitten,” Jimin admires, squeezing the tender flesh, “I'm tempted to leave my handprints all over.”  Of course he is.  That'd truly satisfy his possessive streak and will to dominate, strewing marks all over you.  

A third smack, right in the same spot, and this time you curse loudly, fingers clenching the sheets so right you're surprised they don't rip.  You're panting, jolted so far over by the last one that your chest is pressed to the mattress, ass turned up to the air.  Jimin tuts behind you.  

“Good girl don’t swear,” he scolds, his voice smooth and sweet like honey, and for your transgression you get a fourth and final spank that has you muffling your face into the bed covers, trying not to cry.   

It's not that you didn't like it, because you really did; the way your juices are now seeping onto the tops of your thighs are a testament to that.  It's just you're wound so tight by this point that's it's bordering on unbearable, and when Jimin runs the tips of his fingers through your folds it does nothing at all to help.   

“Look how wet she is,” he murmurs appreciatively from somewhere behind you, sliding them up and down but purposefully avoiding your clit, brushing against you so shallowly that you haven't a hope of him slipping his fingers inside like you're longing for him to do.  “You know what comes next, don't you?”  Jimin asks, winding your hair around his fist and using that grip to pull you slowly to standing, just hard enough to make you whimper.  “On your knees kitten.  Show me what Yoongi- hyung taught you.” You turn on the spot to face him, and when you do he takes your breath away.  Jimin’s face is so stern, his chiselled jaw clenching as he looks you up and down, his eyes shrouded with lust.  Handsome will never be a strong enough word to do him justice.  

He nods his head towards his feet and then watches expectantly as you sink to your knees, his pretty pink tongue moistening his lip.  It hurts a little to sit back on your heels; your foot is digging into your sore bottom and making it ache fiercely enough that you're sure there'll be a bruise there in the morning.  You'll probably be wincing when you sit down for a fair few days to come.  

Jimin makes no move to take off his belt or open his jeans.  He just looks down at you hungrily, his arms hanging limply by his sides, clearly wanting you to do it for him.  You lean forward, placing your hands on his thighs and beginning to mouth at his clothed erection as he hums approvingly.  You press kisses down the length of it, nuzzling the obvious bulge, worshipping his cock so openly that it makes him laugh softly, sliding his fingers into your hair and caressing your scalp.  

Slowly, you undo his belt and fly, letting them flop open to expose his tight blue boxers underneath.  There's a wet patch forming where he's tucked himself up and slightly to the left, and you eagerly kitten-lick at it, tasting Jimin’s excitement with a moan.  It only makes you want more.  

“Stop teasing,” Jimin growls, tightening his grip in your hair.  

“Sorry daddy,” you apologise meekly, minding your manners lest you give him an excuse to make your bottom sting even more.  You take hold of the waistband of his boxers and pull them down over his thick, meaty buttocks, letting his cock spring free to slap back against his stomach.  God, you can't wait to taste it, your mouth practically watering at the sight of him; thick and solid and leaking.  You make sure to look up at him as you wrap your hand around the base to pull it downward, towards your already open, waiting mouth, and you see Jimin’s steely expression almost slip when you slide the head past your lips.  

“Fuck,” he groans as the warm, wet of your mouth envelopes him, your tongue flicking against his frenulum.  His hand is still in your hair, cupping the back of your head, and already his hips are gently flexing forward to encourage his length deeper into your mouth.  “Your mouth feels incredible.”

You hum with pleasure, glowing with pride on hearing his praise and letting it spur you on, keeping lips taught and your cheeks hollow as you bob your head up and down eagerly.  When you next look up Jimin’s face is starting to perspire, his hair dangling into his eyes as he savages his lip between his teeth.  

Wider ,” he commands breathily, and you do your best to let your jaw go lax and pliant, letting Jimin stuff his cock all the way into your throat as he pushes on the back of your head.  Your lips meet his crotch as you take every inch of him, overwhelmed by the musky smell of sex that comes from your nose being nestled in amongst his neatly trimmed pubic hair.   He holds you there, your eyes starting to water, and although you can't look you know his chest is heaving; you can hear his ragged breath above you.  “Swallow… swallow daddy’s cock.”

It takes a moment for you to even figure out how to do what he's asking, but once you do, swallowing twice in quick succession, Jimin groans so loudly at the feel of your throat constricting around him that you do it for a third time, just to hear him again.  You pull back slowly, swirling your tongue around his length and then tonguing the swollen head, all the while looking up at him, growing even wetter as you watch the man you love come apart under your touch.  Your hands start to roam as your head moves back on forth, one coming to rest on his perfect, firm behind and the other tentatively cupping his balls and giving them the slightest squeeze.  

It's at this point Jimin's composure finally seems to slip. Possessed by the intensity of his need, he slips a second hand into your hair and starts to thrust into your mouth with little to no inhibition, withdrawing himself to almost the tip and ramming his cock back inside, slamming against the back of your throat.  His groans are animalistic, his head thrown back as he fucks your mouth.  You're a mess underneath him, saliva dripping sloppily down your chin, gagging when he pushes just that little bit too hard or too far, but even though your throat and eyes are burning you wouldn't want to stop him even if you could.  

It doesn't take long before you can feel him becoming even harder between your lips, his thrusts starting to get messier, unco-ordinated, his moans get louder.

“Are you ready for my cum kitten?” he pants, knowing you won't be able to give an answer with your mouth so full getting the answer he needs from the eager gleam in your eyes.  “You're gonna take all of daddy’s cum aren't you?”  You squeeze his ass in both hands, egging him on, and not even two seconds later Jimin finally cums with a languid groan, hot and salty on your tongue.  His cock pulses over and over again as he rides through the aftershocks, rocking gently past your lips making the prettiest, softest noises as his orgasm fades.  Jimin smiles and strokes your hair as he watches you swallow his load, and then he gently withdraws himself from your mouth and tucks himself back inside his pants, buttoning up.  

“You never fail to impress me, kitten,” he praises softly, the dark desire that had been so obvious in his eyes replaced with a look of pure affection and love.  He wipes the saliva from your chin with his thumb as you look up at him pleadingly, still knelt on the floor with your feet going numb.  You're beyond the point of no return now, your pussy dripping long strands of arousal onto the floor beneath you, so turned out that you wouldn't be above licking Jimin’s shoes if it would make him fuck you.  Watching him put his cock away had almost brought you to tears, you're so desperate for it.  

“Daddy...” you whine softly, curling your arms around his leg, shuffling on your knees.  

“Hmm, what's wrong?”  He cocks his head at you, eyes narrowing with amusement.  He clearly knows what's wrong; he'd be blind not to see the way you're pressing your thighs together and the flush on your cheeks and chest.  “Do you need something?”

You nod miserably, tugging at the bottom of t-shirt like a needy child and feeling like one too. Jimin squats in front of you, taking your chin in his hand as he smiles teasingly.  

“Please make me cum daddy.”  Your voice breaks as you speak, rocking on your heels trying to find some relief. “Please.”

“Do you think you deserve it?”  A tear rolls down your cheek because no, you don't, but you feel like you might die if he doesn't give you something.   Anything.

“Please daddy,” you beg again, sniffling, pawing at his t-shirt, “I promise I won't ever be bad again,please, I need you, please.”  It should be embarrassing, acting this way, but you can't find it in you to care.  Jimin considers you for a moment, his expression remaining soft, stroking your chin with his thumb before finally granting you a kiss.  You lean into it like you're a woman dying of thirst and Jimin's an oasis in the desert, holding his face in both your hands as you take every press of his lips he gives you.  

“Lie down, kitten,” he whispers whilst both of your eyes are still closed.  You let yourself sink into the carpet, Jimin helping you lie back with gentle, careful hands.  He kneels between your legs and looks down on you adoringly, massaging your aching calves.  “I love you so much.”  The words blow against your stomach, uttered as he dips his head and starts to press worshipful kisses along your abdomen.  

“I love-ah!”  Your back arches off of the carpet as Jimin's perfect lips press a kiss to your core, his hands moving upward to caress the inside of your thighs as he explores your folds.  “Jimin!”   

You don't know which God to thank for Jimin’s uncharacteristic lack of teasing, but you praise all of them aloud as he loves you with his tongue, rubbing softly at your clit because he knows wouldn't be able to take it any other way.  

He works you into your orgasm gently, coaxing it out of you so slowly and patiently that when it finally happens it feels like a tidal wave of pure pleasure.

“I love you, I love you,” you repeat over and over, breathless and spent when it finally lets you come up for air.  Jimin crawls up your body from between your legs, his fully clothed frame now seeming absurd atop of your naked one, but when he kisses you so sweetly you no longer care, wrapping your arms around him and holding him close.  

“Let's get into bed,” he suggests when you're finally done, and to be honest until that point you'd pretty much forgotten you were sprawled on the floor.  “Before Nova comes to investigate,” he adds, a cheeky, adorable smile appearing on his face.  You're amazed she hadn't already, frankly, as embarrassing as it would’ve been.  

Jimin climbs off and pushes to stand as you sit yourself up, blushing when you realise the intensity of that orgasm seems to have left you with a problem.  

“Jimin… I can't quite feel my legs.”

Chapter Text

Your legs miraculously seem to come back to life once Jimin manages to stand you up, though they’re still far too akin to jelly for your liking.  Rather than get straight into bed with Jimin you head into the bathroom instead to clean up, wincing when your sore bottom meets the toilet seat.  Yup, you're definitely going to be bruised tomorrow.  It was totally worth it though; who would've known you’d ever find something so barbaric so pleasurable?  Though saying that, since living with Jimin you've engaged in a lot of things you’d never thought you were capable of.  

When you re-enter Jimin's room you're really confused as to where he's gone, met with an empty room and empty bed - but then what had initially looked like a shallow hump in the covers suddenly rises up to resemble the shape of a slouched, sitting man underneath.  Apparently Jimin's made some kind of one-man cave for himself.  

“Jimin? What're you doing under there?” you laugh as you walk over to the bed, pulling on one of his shirts as you go.   When you crawl onto the bed Jimin throws the blankets back enough to fold them around his smiling, adorable face, his eyes twinkling with happiness.  How can he look so cherubic now when only half an hour ago he was making you gag on his cock?  It shouldn't be possible, or even allowed.  

“Come on in,” he beckons, throwing the covers back over himself as you watch on, positively bemused by Jimin’s bizarre behaviour.  You lift up the edge of blanket to see him sat cross-legged underneath, fussing Nova who's lying curled up by his feet.  Smiling, you crawl under to join him to sit opposite.  The grey covers are thin enough to let some light through once you've let them fall so you're still able to make out Jimin’s sweet face when he smiles playfully back at you.  

“Aren't you tired?” you ask softly as Jimin runs his fingers through Nova’s silky fur.  

“Exhausted,” he replies with a chuckle and a shrug, “But it feels like we haven't had any time to ourselves in days.”

“That's true.  We tried talking to Namjoon earlier, y'know, about it always being you.”

“We?”

“Yeah, me and the guys.  He came to watch a movie with us.”  You try to seem nonchalant when you talk about Namjoon, though you can't force yourself to look in Jimin’s eyes.  Instead, you focus on Nova, scratching behind her ears as you speak.  “Not that it did much good.  He's happy to let one of the others go with you but it's still got to be you leading it.”

“Well… I am the best,” Jimin smiles, though you can tell he's just trying to make the best of a bad situation by the way he sighs lightly afterwards.  You don't know what you can say that would in any way help so you remain silent, both of you stroking Nova until your hands meet in amongst her fur.  Your fingers gently intertwine, smiling at each other like love-struck teenagers, hidden away together in your secret little den.  He pulls gently on your hand to get you to move closer so that you sit cross-legged next to him, and when you lean your head on his naked shoulder he rests his head on yours too.

“I really do love you, Jiminie,” you say after a moment, your eyes closed, unable to keep the affection you feel for him to yourself for even a second longer.  Your whole chest aches from your swollen heart, but it’s a good, precious kind of ache.  “I don’t want you to feel like you’re not enough,  even if-”  

Jimin’s kissing you before you can finish your sentence, tipping your chin to bring your lips up to his.  And oh, it’s such a soft, sweet, slow kiss that he gives you.  He pours every ounce of feeling into it, showing you how loved you are with every peck of his lips, every gentle brush of his tongue, every caress of your cheek, and for once, sweet is all it is.  It doesn’t get deeper, or hotter, or more urgent, but it’s still one of the best kisses the two of you have ever had, and your head’s reeling when he pulls away with one final gentle press of your lips.  

“You don’t have to reassure me about how you feel,” Jimin says softly, thumbing your cheek with an understanding smile, “Those guys don’t threaten me.”  The corner of his mouth flicking upward turns his smile into something cheekier, and when he bites his lip for a second you end up giggling like a schoolgirl.  You think it’s embarrassing but Jimin seems to like it, his eyes creasing as he watches you.  “You’re so cute sometimes.”  He kisses you again, holding firmly onto your chin, but this time it’s you that pulls away, sitting back and blowing your hair off of your forehead.  

“I’m going to melt under here in a second.”  You waft the blankets to the side of you to try and let in some air.  It’s too easy to forget that Jimin doesn’t experience temperature the same way you do; he’s probably perfectly comfortable in this stuffy little sauna he’s created.  He takes pity on you though, throwing the covers off the bed so it’s just you and him and Nova together on the plain mattress.  Nova seems a little reproachful about it, actually, giving Jimin the side-eye as she stands with a stretch and then leaps gracefully off the bed to curl up in the discarded duvet on the floor.  You and Jimin shuffle up the bed, arranging yourself so that Jimin’s back is against the headboard, his arm curled around your body that’s turned in towards him, lying with your head on his chest, and for once you’re quite glad of his cold feet when they tangle up with yours.

Jimin turns on the TV and for a while you just sit and watch it together in a sleepy stupor, content just to be together in comfortable silence.  You don’t get many moments like this, so you make sure to treasure them when you do.  

Jimin starts to absent-mindedly tickle his fingers up and down your arm and it makes you shudder, suddenly reminded about what happened the last time you were sat watching TV in bed like this.

“What is it with you guys, anyway?” you ask abruptly, broaching a question that had been bothering you for a while now.  Jimin must’ve been half asleep when you spoke, because his answering ‘hmm?’ sounds decidedly groggy.  “Like, the way they all act around me.  It’s like they’ve never seen a woman before.”  You pause, thinking about all the different encounters you’ve had with Jimin and his friends over the last few weeks.  “Except Hobi maybe, and Jin.  Jin’s never even looked at me the wrong way.”  

Jimin straightens up a little from where he’d started to slump into the mattress, pushing his hair back from his face as he considers your question with a small smile.

“I guess we don’t really come into contact with the fairer sex as often as we’d like.”  He glances at you, noting your glare with a chuckle.  “Until you arrived, obviously.”

“But why?  It’s not like you guys couldn’t get laid if you tried.  I mean, look at you.”  This time Jimin laughs outright, batting away your hand that’s gesturing up and down his glorious half-naked frame. “Aren’t there female vampires you could… y’know, hook up with?”

“They’re pretty far and few between, as far as I know, and honestly the only one I ever met was a total bitch.”  You can’t keep the slightly satisfied smile off your face on hearing that.  If the vampiric curse seems to grant the gift of beauty when it’s given as it seems to have with Jimin and the rest,  then surely you wouldn’t have a hope of competing with some stunning, vampiric vixen if she ever came along.

“Oh, that’s a shame,” you say a little too happily and Jimin eyes you with bemusement, probably predicting your line of thought with startling accuracy, as usual.  He pats your arm, a tad condescendingly, if you’re not mistaken.

“Anyway, Jin- hyung wouldn’t be such a perfect gentleman if he didn’t have a girlfriend.”  

“He does?!”

“Mhmm.”  Jimin nods, turning his eyes back to the TV, “I think her name’s Soo Mi… something like that.”  Well, Jin certainly kept that one quiet.  

“You’ve never met her?”  He glances at you with a twitch of a smile.

“She’s in Korea, so no.  He only dates online, and even then it’s not very often.  He finds a girl he likes and then cuts it short once it gets serious enough that they start asking to meet - I don’t think he trusts himself enough to try and have what we have.”  You frown, considering what Jimin’s just said as you trace circles into his porcelain skin.  What must it be like to have to do that over and over again?  You suppose it must take different amounts of time to reach that point with every girl, but by that point they must be in pretty deep, right?  How awful for Jin to have to force himself into goodbyes when he probably wants to meet these women just as much as they do him.

“That sounds… really depressing.”

“It is.  That’s why he doesn’t do it very often, and why the rest of us never bothered.  It’s too fatalistic; getting into something you know is just going to have to end sooner or later anyway.”  Despite feeling sad about Jin, what Jimin just said still makes you smile just a little - does him saying that mean he intends for you and him to be a long-term thing?  He catches your grin out of the corner of his eye and smiles too, squeezing you against him.  

“What does he do about… y’know…?” you ask, flushing a little bit at even the thought of Jin doing something in any way sexual.  He just doesn’t seem that way to you, not compared to the others, and even though he’s undoubtedly good-looking and sweet, you can’t really picture it even if you try.

“Do yourself a favour and do not go near his laptop.”  You initially think Jimin’s joking, starting to laugh but then stopping when you see how sincere his expression is, his eyebrows raised.  

“Yikes… ok,” you agree, pulling a face that makes Jimin smirk.  “What about the rest of you?”

“Uh, let's see…”  Jimin tilts his head back to look at the ceiling for a moment as he thinks, his delicate neck extending beautifully as he does so.  It takes all your effort not to start nibbling at it.  “Yoongi -hyung doesn't date, at all, as far as I know, even for a one-night stand, but Hobi- hyung will go out at least a couple times a month and find someone to take him home.”  That doesn't surprise you about either of them, to be honest.  Yoongi's isn't off-the-cuff charming enough to just hook up for the night, whereas Hobi has charm in spades; you saw it first hand, after all.  

“Tae- ah goes to some kind of club that seems to sort him out, and Namjoon- hyung … well… you saw what he’s into.”  Jimin’s brow furrows for a moment as he looks down at you laid on his chest, probably checking you’re alright at his mention of that particularly unpleasant memories.  You shoot him a reassuring smile, trying not to think about it by carrying on the conversation quickly.

“What kind of clubs?”  you ask suspiciously and Jimin shrugs, his shoulders bouncing.  

“Honestly?  I try not to ask.”   Oh god, what the hell have you gotten yourself into by saying yes to Taehyung?  What kind of games does he ‘play’ exactly?

“I need to talk to you about Hobi, actually.”  You’re getting pretty good at changing topics here; why confront worrying thoughts when you can put them off and stress about them later, right?  

“Why, what’d he do now?”  Jimin asks, sounding just as suspicious as you did a moment ago.  

“It’s not what he’s done, it’s what he’s trying to do that’s worrying me… or rather who he’s trying to do.”  You sit up, pushing yourself upright to rest next to him.  This particular topic feels too serious to have it lying down.   Jimin raises one curious eyebrow, waiting for you to elaborate further, his hand coming to rest on your bare leg rather than around your shoulder, squeezing it gently.  “Him and Sam have started texting.”

“How’d that happen?” Jimin asks incredulously, sounding almost a little sharp.  

“I wasn’t at the table when he came to pick me up earlier and he just… swooped.  I literally left her alone for like two seconds.”  You expect Jimin to laugh or at least show some vague signs of amusement, but right now his face looks deadly serious.  

“You want me to talk to him?  He’ll leave her alone if I ask him to,” he offers, but you surprise yourself when you quickly shake your head.

“I don’t… I mean, he does genuinely seem to like her, and Sam seemed pretty smitten too.”  You shrug, chewing on the corner of your mouth as the TV speaks to itself in the background, completely forgotten.  “It’s just - what if he loses control?”   Jimin looks past you for a few second, clearly thinking hard about the situation before finally sighing lightly.  

“I don’t think he would.”  He tongues his bottom lip as he pauses again.  “He’s slept with plenty of girls before and left them perfectly intact in the morning.  And if he actually cared about Sam then I think he’d be even more careful than usual.”  

“You think?”  Your voice sounds so hopeful.  You really do like the idea of Sam and Hobi together, and knowing that Jimin has confidence in his friend helps put your mind at rest too - maybe enough to be able to give them your blessings and really mean it.

“If I can resist someone as sweet and gorgeous as you, then he should have no trouble.”  Jimin smiles as you roll your eyes, smiling too at how disgustingly corny he can be at times.  

“You saw how gorgeous Sam is, right?”

“Kitten, I only saw you that night,” he replies without missing a beat, and sickly sweet or not, the look on Jimin’s face is nothing but genuine as he presses his lips to your forehead in a lingering kiss.  Your face is beetroot red, your heart pounding; always thrilled whenever Jimin says such openly affectionate things.  Damn sweet talker.  

“What about Jungkook anyway?  You haven’t mentioned him.”  Jimin smiles fleetingly, chuckling.  

“Ah, little Kookie -ah.

“He’d kill you if he heard you calling him that,” you scold playfully, swatting Jimin’s leg.  Jungkook seems to hate being babied - at least you presume that’s what the blush on his cheeks means whenever it happens.   

“Alright then - your big boy, Jungkook-ah - he’s a virgin.”  

You swear your mouth actually hits the mattress you’re so shocked, and your face must look a picture because Jimin actually starts laughing at you as he pushes his hair back, amused by your dumbfounded expression.  How?  How is that boy still a virgin?  He’s not even a boy anyway!  He’s almost fifty, vampire years included… surely even he can’t be that awkward to never get laid in that space of time?  Even if he was, all he’d have to do was keep his mouth shut.  Jungkook’s gorgeous enough that he wouldn’t have to say a word and he’d still have women queuing up down the street.  

“How?” you stutter, trying to pick your jaw up off the floor.  Jimin shrugs loosely.

“Jungkook -ah was really young when he was hospitalised, so he never got chance to have that awkward teenage fumble like the rest of us.  And then once he turned… he has tried , don’t get me wrong.”  You raise your eyebrows, looking for further elaboration when Jimin pauses, looking slightly awkward.  “He just gets a bit… over-excited.  He always ends up killing them before he can actually…”  Jimin makes an odd head movement as he trails off, widening his eyes as he cocks it to the side.  You’re tempted to repeat his earlier words to him about ‘not doing it if you can’t say it’ but you resist; your bottom still smarts too much to go being a smartmouth right now.  

“Well that sucks,” you state, unsure of what else you possibly could say that does it justice.  It was only until very recently that you were a virgin too, so you still remember how it feels when you’re sure everyone else in the world is having sex but you - and you weren’t even that bothered about it. You can’t even imagine how Jungkook must feel; judging by the time you found that bandana outside Jimin’s door he’s obviously plenty interested in doing it.  Poor guy.  Suddenly you really don’t begrudge him taking that opportunity to peep in on you at all.  It might well be the most action in person he’s ever actually had, and he wasn’t even getting to touch anyone.  

“Yeah, it does.  We’ve all tried giving him advice and brought girls back to… you know… if Hobi’s brought someone back and she’s had a friend?  But it never ended well, so we stopped trying after a while.”  

“Poor Kookie.”  

“Poor Kookie,” he agrees with a solemn nod.  Jimin takes a breath, patting your leg fondly.  “But anyway, that’s why you’re a bit of a novelty right now.  None of us have really spent any length of real time with a woman in a very, very long time.”  A slow smile spreads across your face as you lean into him, placing your arm across his waist as you nuzzle your nose against the line of his jaw.  

“A novelty, huh?”  you repeat teasingly, “Is that all I am to you then?”  Jimin plays along, wrapping his arms around you too and smiling toothily, his fangs just poking out from under his top lip.

“Not to me, kitten,” he assures you, rubbing the tips of your noses together as you look up at him, “Never.”  

“Hmm, glad to hear it,” you smile, nipping at his bottom lip with your teeth lightly and making him growl playfully back.  

“Careful,” he warns, rolling onto his back and pulling you on top of him with a startled yelp, palming your buttocks and pulling your core down against him.  You groan both in pleasure and pain as his fingers dig into your quickly-forming bruises, and Jimin smirks at the response that flows so naturally and easily from you.  “You’re tired and sore already; remember what I said about being greedy.”  You pout, huffing, but roll yourself off of him anyway, snuggling up to his side and letting him wrap his one arm around you again.  

“When we wake up then?”  you ask, already yawning, your body automatically recognising this now familiar position for sleep.  Jimin laughs, planting a gentle, chaste kiss on the top of your head as his fingers start to stroke through your hair affectionately.  

“Sure, kitten.  Whatever you want.”  

Chapter Text

Ugh… 4pm.  How can just one morning of waking up early have messed up your sleeping schedule so much?  You’ve been lay in bed staring at the ceiling for at least half an hour now, wide awake as Jimin sleeps peacefully next to you, but no matter how you try you can’t get back to sleep.  Studying his restful face keeps you occupied for a while, lying on your side and watching him with a soft smile, tucking your hands under your pillow to help resist the urge to do more than just look.  You’ll never stop appreciating just how lucky you are to be loved by someone as runway-ready as Jimin, and you’re forever grateful that despite his good looks he’s remained modest and sweet and kind too.  You really hit the jackpot with him, didn’t you?  

Still, there’s only so much staring you can do without feeling like a total creeper   The bruises lingering on Jimin’s face keep you from wanting to wake him too early, knowing that he’ll heal better with a full night’s sleep, so after a while you give up on sleep and get up out of bed, sighing, bending to the will of your grumbling stomach and heading towards with the kitchen to fetch breakfast.  

You have no expectation that anyone will be awake at this time in the afternoon, which is why when you push open the kitchen door and see Yoongi sat at the table in his black t-shirt and sweats you’re both surprised and pleased in equal measure.  He doesn’t notice you even when you’re practically on top of him, peering over his shoulder to peek at whatever he’s writing, concentrating on it so hard that he’s bent over with his nose almost touching the table.  Unfortunately it’s all in Korean, so you’re none the wiser.  

“Yoongi- oppa ,” you say softly, placing your hands on his shoulders and smiling at the little jolt of surprise you feel shoot through him, “What’re you doing up so early?”  Yoongi’s hand comes up to rest on top of one of yours, squeezing it as he cranes his head round to look at you, blinking hard behind the square rims of his glasses.  You always love it when he wears these; they make his pretty eyes look even more defined, bigger and deeper.  So easy to get lost in.  

“I should be asking you that,” he smiles softly, squeezing your hand.  “Technically I need to go to bed before I can wake up.”  Your eyes widen marginally.

“You’ve been awake all this time?”    

“Mmhm.  That’s why I look like total shit.”  Yoongi groans in mock pain when you bat him around the head scoldingly, messing up his mop of black hair.  “Fine, you’re right, I’m gorgeous,” he huffs, still teasing with a roll of his eyes.  

“Is this what’s kept you up?”  you ask, inclining your head down towards the pad laid out in front of him.  Yoongi glances down at his own writing like he’d forgotten it was there, but before he gives any kind of answer he first swivels in his seat, bringing his legs out from under the table to guide you down onto them with a gentle hand on the curve of your waist.  You try to make yourself comfortable even though Yoongi’s bony legs are digging into your sore bottom, draping your arms over his shoulders  to play with the back of his hair as he places his own around your hips, holding your steady.  

“When you mentioned ‘Suga’ last night it got me to thinking about all those dreams I used to have,” he explains, still staring down at the mystery words in front of him.  “I think it was all just games to the others… you know, a distraction?”  You nod solemnly as he glances at you, showing him that he has your full and rapt attention. “But I really wanted it, more than anything; to write music, make music, have people hear what I have to say and make them really listen.  And not just listen but like it, too.”  Yoongi falls silent, chewing on the inside of his cheek contemplatively as he scans the words on the page again.  

“Is that what this is - lyrics?” you ask, running your fingers comfortingly through the shortest part of his hair, right at the nape of his neck.  He nods.  “Can I hear some?”  Yoongi swallows, his eyes flicking to yours nervously.

“The translation might not be quite right…”

“That’s ok,” you reassure, smiling encouragingly.  After a slight pause he pushes his glasses up the bridge of his nose and then places the tip one of his delicate fingers below the pretty foreign script, beginning to speak.

“I want to be locked in you, swim in you.  I want to know you more.  I…” He hesitates and frowns, licking his lips in what you recognise as a gesture that’s borne of anxiety.  “I haven’t figured out the middle part.. Uh.. You’re art, a masterpiece.  I imagine it all night, every day, because it’s all a dream anyway.”  When he comes to an end, his finger resting at the bottom of the page, the quiet hush of the kitchen around you both only serves to call attention to the way your breath has quickened.  You've been moved by Yoongi's sweet prose, momentarily rendered speechless as he looks up from the page.  Would it be too much to hope for, to think he might have written those lyrics about you - for you?  “It sounds better in Korean… I think.”

“No, no, that’s really pretty,” you say when you realise he's waiting for you to speak, his eyebrows slightly rising as he awaits your judgement, “A little sad, but pretty.  Do you have music to go with it yet?”  His lips turns up at the corners just slightly at your approval, his expression unusually bashful - awkward, almost.  

“A few chords… it’s nothing special.”  He shrugs his shoulders, dismissive of his own talent.  “I don’t know why I’m doing it, really.  It's not like anyone will ever get to hear it.”

“Why not?”  Yoongi starts to chew on his thumb nail, shrugging again as he avoids your eyes despite the way you're try to soothe him, stroking either side of his long neck with your thumbs.  

“I'm a mess, gongjunim.  I was always anxious, always, but being here, being this just made it worse.  I can barely leave the fucking house, forget performing.”  Yoongi's almost shaking by the time he finishes speaking, his voice muffled by the thumb he's practically gnawing off.  

It breaks your heart to see him like this; you knew already that Yoongi has had issues with depression in the past from what Jimin had told you before, but clearly anxiety plays a part in it too.  To see it up close, to watch the way he almost shrinks in on himself… you so desperately want to do anything you can to help.  

“Hey, hey,” you say softly, touching Yoongi's cheek to make him turn his head and face you, carefully withdrawing the tip of his thumb from his mouth.  “You don't give yourself nearly enough credit, oppa. ”  Yoongi smiles weakly at you, lacing the fingers of your one hand together.  “You could always write for someone else? A different singer-"

“Rapper.”

“Rapper then.  That way it'll all still get heard, like you want it to.”

“Hmm..” Yoongi's deep in thought, staring at your two hands and tapping his thumb against the back of yours.  

“Besides, if you find something you love, you shouldn't just give it up.” Yoongi chuckles a laugh like what you said was funny, but rather than elaborate he just looks back at you with a soft smile, gripping your hand tight in his.

“I don't intend to.”  Are you still talking about music here?  You’re not sure, made to think otherwise by the way Yoongi’s staring unflinchingly into your eyes, his own full of ill-concealed affection.  He lets go of your hand to gently take hold of your face in both hands.  “Come down here,” he instructs, managing to sound cute and insistent all at once, automatically blinking when you remove his glasses carefully and place them on the tabletop so they don’t get in the way.  Wasting no more time you let Yoongi bring your face towards his, both your eyes flopping closed when your lips meet in a slow, tender kiss, your fingers finding their way back into his hair as his head tilts back.  It’s so soft - just like his lips - and when Yoongi lightly tugs on your bottom lip with his teeth you tighten your grip on his hair too, pulling just hard to enough to make him hum in pleasure.  

The sound of your stomach grumbling serves to interrupt you, making Yoongi chuckle into your mouth and pull away with an amused smile after one last kiss.  

“You should get something to eat.”  Yoongi thumbs your cheek for just a second longer and then lets you go somewhat reluctantly, patting your lower back to encourage you up.  You leave his lap, but not without a pout first, one that you’re sure to turn your head and throw at him over you shoulder as you make your way towards the cupboards, too.  Yoongi just laughs at you and puts his glasses back in place before planting his elbow on the table and leaning his cheek on the open flat of his palm.   

You can feel his eyes on you as you rummage around, trying to find the bread you need to make some toast.  It’s shameful, really, how unfamiliar you are with this kitchen after so long;  you really must stop letting Jin make all of your meals.  Occasionally you’ll catch Yoongi smiling in your peripheral vision, noting the way he’ll scribble something down from time to time as you try not to let your toast burn.  Maybe all those lovely words really are about you…

“Things were ok with Jimin, by the way,” you say after a moment, trying to distract yourself from all the butterflies swirling in your stomach.

“You told him about us?”  he asks curiously, pen nib paused against the paper.  

“I thought I better had do, seeing as everyone else picked up on it.”  You peer into the toaster, trying to judge whether it’s done yet or not, feeling progressively more hungry as each second ticks by.  

“Sorry, that was fucking stupid of me not to realise.”

“It’s alright, I should’ve thought too.”  You smile as your toast pops out, pleased by its perfectly golden appearance.  “But there’s no harm done.”  Yoongi’s quiet as you start to butter it, your knife scraping against the warm, crisp surface the only sound to fill the silence.  

“What did Jimin have to say?”  

“He basically said I can sleep with whoever I want, as long as I ask him first and make sure he gets the same treatment afterward,” you reply casually, one piece of toast dangling out of your mouth by the corner as you scoop up the crumbs you’ve made.  

“You make it sound like you’re gonna be making your way round the whole house,” Yoongi chuckles, clearly amused by such an absurd idea.  His statement hits a little too close to home, though, sounding just a bit too much like the truth, and it brings you to an awkward halt just as your foot is pressing down on the mechanism to open the lid to the garbage.  He picks up on the way you falter, the smile immediately slipping from his face.  “Are you?”  

You chew on your mouthful of toast and purposefully avoid his eyes, noting how dry it suddenly seems compared to just a few seconds ago.

“I mean… I guess it’s nice to know the option’s there?” you reply hesitantly once your mouth is empty, now busying yourself with putting away the bread and butter, your slice of toast abandoned on the counter top.   Yoongi is entirely silent, worryingly so, and when you push the fridge door shut you risk a glance at him, licking your lips nervously when you see the impassive look on his face.  “It’s not like i’ve made any plans, you know?”  God, if there was an award for the worst liar in the world you’d surely get first place.  Your words sound hollow and unconvincingly even to your own ears, never mind someone as perceptive as Yoongi.

“I see,” he says, nodding curtly, his dark eyes boring into yours from across the room for almost a full minute before he speaks again.  “Well I’m glad I didn’t get you in any trouble.”  He flashes you a smile but it’s tight and insincere, just like your lie.  

You wish you could pretend that you were oblivious to the sudden change in Yoongi’s behaviour, but it's so stark that it'd take an idiot not to notice it.  Five minutes ago he was soft and playful and affectionate, but now his face is almost totally unreadable.  It's only in knowing Yoongi so well that you understand that this utter lack of emotion means that there's exactly the opposite raging around inside of him.  If you didn't know any better, you'd guess he was jealous.  

But how can he be?  It's only by Jimin being willing to share your affections that the two of you were able to become closer in the first place, so how can Yoongi be so against it?  And things are different with him, anyway.  It’s only lust that draws you to the others, but with Yoongi it’s a much deeper, stronger pull than that. It's what makes you want to stay in his arms once the sex is over and done, to be cradled and cherished and loved by a man whom you know is craving the very same thing, even if he tries to hide it.  

“Yoongi-" you start, finally looking at him properly, your heart heavy in your chest.  

“I'm going to bed,” he interrupts, standing up from the table abruptly, tearing out the page he's written on and balling it up in his fist like trash, tucking the now empty pad under his arm.  

Oppa , don't go…” You feel as though you might cry, a lump forming in your throat.  He stops part way across the room, glancing down at his feet before looking back at you, and when he sees your hurt expression his own slips for just a second, the crease of his eyebrows and furrow of his brow behind his glasses giving away the turmoil underneath.  

“I…” Yoong starts, but then cuts himself off with a shake of his head, face going blank again as he exercises that well-practiced self-control of his. “I guess I'll just wait my turn, right?”  He leaves without another word, turning his back on you stood stranded in the middle of the kitchen feeling like you've been stabbed in the heart, your whole chest aching.  

Your toast is still warm when it's thrown in the garbage, too busy fighting back tears to be anywhere near hungry anymore, and you’re about to take a right out of the kitchen door to go back to Jimin’s room when you abruptly change your mind and take a left instead, heading to Yoongi.  You can’t leave things like this between the two of you; it’ll bother you each and every moment if you do. You’ll talk to him, work it out, try to make him understand that he’s different from the others.  He’s special , and you need to let him to know that too.    

When you reach Yoongi’s door you find it shut tight, faint rap music playing on the other side of it.  Bracing yourself for the argument that might follow you take deep, steadying breath before knocking against the wooden panels firmly, three times.  You’ve give it a good ten seconds, barely breathing, but when Yoongi doesn’t answer you exhale noisily, frustrated.

“Yoongi, please talk to me…” you call, shifting restlessly from foot to foot.  The next time you knock there’s a long pause before you hear movement within, and for a second you’re hopeful that he’s coming to open the door and let you in - but no.  Yoongi gives you a very clear sign that you’re not wanted, turning his music up even louder to the point where the bass is almost making the door vibrate under your hands.  You feel tears prickling hot in the corner of your eyes, biting your lip as you stare angrily at the door that cruelly separates the two of you, and you do your best to keep them at bay, but it’s no good.  By the time you’ve turned around to make your way back to Jimin dejectedly they’re already tumbling silently down your cheeks.  

Of course you would cross paths with someone when you look like this; half dressed and a total mess.  You’re aware of someone’s presence on the stairs as soon as you step into the entrance hall, but it isn’t until you pick your chin up and look properly that you realise that person happens to be Namjoon.  You could almost roll your eyes if you weren’t so upset, because of course it’s Namjoon.  Who else would happen to turn up at the most inappropriate moment but him?  

“You’re up early,” he observes as he descends the last few stairs, dressed casually in a loose fitting white t-shirt and baggy denim jeans.   He plants himself directly in your way to that you have to come to a stop, your face pointed at the floor to avoid showing him your tears.  “Bed hopping again were we?”  You can just about make out Namjoon leaning forward slightly from his great height, craning his head to the side to try and look at you properly.  He probably wants to revel in the sight of your now blushing cheeks, knowing him.  You wish you could stop it happening but unfortunately you can only focus on one thing at a time, and right now it’s on trying to stop yourself from crying before he notices and preys on that weakness too.   

Namjoon’s hand extends towards you, curling his long fingers around your wrist, and though you can’t see him you know he’ll be smiling that sly, cunning smile of his; the one that both turns your stomach and excites you all at the same time.  

“You can always come crawl into my bed, little one, if Yoongi’s done with you.”  He uses his grip on your wrist to pull you closer, your heaving chest almost flush with his as he leans down to speak directly in your ear.  “If you aren’t sore yet, I promise you will be by the time I’m finished.”

You snatch your wrist away from his grasp but neglect to step back, so fed up with Namjoon’s relentless toying that you forget to care about your tear-stained cheeks.  Sex is the very last thing on your mind right now; the one and only thing you want is to make things right with Yoongi, and that’s all.  You’d gotten so used to seeing a soft look on his face that watching it turn cold and aloof again had been almost unbearable.   

“Not now, ok?”  you tell him, attempting to be fierce but sounding decidedly pathetic instead, your voice wavering as you look up at him with shining eyes.  “Just leave me alone.”  

Something strange happens then; as Namjoon watches tear after tear slide down your cheeks and hears your voice break as you speak, the vindictive gleam in his eyes completely disappears.  His smile slips, a crease appearing between his eyebrows as he scans your face, identifying your absolute vulnerability but apparently choosing not to act on it.   Instead, Namjoon gently wipes the tears off each of your cheeks in turn with his thumb, chuckling softly at the way you initially flinch away from his touch - though there’s no malice to hear in it.  He cocks his head to the side as he drops his hand, his pouty lips curled into a small, sincere smile that does strange things to your stomach.   

Neither of you says anything, after that.  You just stand there looking at each other for almost a full minute, your head full of so many different emotions that you can’t even begin to process them.  You aren’t sure you want to look too closely at the confusion this little moment has caused anyway, fearful that it’ll only serve to mess you up all the more.  What’s Namjoon even doing, anyway?  He isn’t supposed to act like this.  Warm, soft gestures aren’t his style - unless maybe this is all still part of his manipulation?  

Without uttering another word you eventually step around him and exit the hall towards Jimin’s room, feeling Namjoon’s eyes on your back until you disappear from his sight around a corner.   At least that bizarre little exchange has served to dry up your tears, if nothing else.  

When you get back to Jimin’s room he's still fast asleep in practically the same position you left him in.  You're not so concerned about waking him up anymore, too in need of comfort to be able to resist pressing yourself against his side under the covers.  You may not be crying anymore, but your chest is still aching with sadness as you find your way into his arms, placing your head on his chest.  Almost instinctively Jimin’s arms fold themselves around you.  

“Hmm, what's wrong?” he groans, eyes closed,  his voice so sleepy that you're almost certain he won't remember this conversation come the time when he wakes up later.  He must’ve picked up on how tense your body is against his, or maybe it was the lingering dampness on the cheek that’s pressed to his chest that tipped him off to the turmoil you’re in. “Bad dreams?”  

“Something like that,” you murmur, snuggling against him further and hooking your legs over his.  “Can you just hold me, please?”  Jimin presses a kiss to the top of your head and squeezes you in reply, the warmth of his embrace helping to chase away some of the cold, emptiness you feel inside.  

Chapter Text

Over the next couple of days things don’t improve with Yoongi whatsoever.  You see neither hide nor hair from him, and though you take the walk down to his room for your piano lesson as usual every evening, Yoongi’s door remains firmly shut where once it’d always stood slightly ajar; a cautious invitation to come inside that has since been revoked.   It hurts every single time and becomes no easier to bare; on the third night you don’t even bother knocking anymore, not wanting to face the rejection you feel when he never comes to answer your call.  

Jimin keeps asking you what’s wrong.  He can see that you’re upset, tiptoeing along the edge of bursting into tears for most hours of the day, but you don’t want to talk to him about this.  You’re not sure he’d understand; as far as he’s concerned Yoongi’s just like the rest of them.  He’ll probably just get mad that Yoongi feels like he has any right to get jealous -  it’s not him you belong to, after all.  

When Namjoon walks into the living room at the beginning of the fourth night and announces that he wants the group to report to the gym for training and hand-to-hand combat practice, you’re almost relieved.  Your eyes have kept on drifting over to Yoongi’s usual spot, and every time you see he’s not there your chest tightens painfully.  It’ll do you good to get out of the room and spend some time in one completely lacking in any memories of the two of you together.  

Jimin plants a kiss on your temple before rising from the sofa, and out of the corner of your eye you’re aware of Namjoon loitering in the doorway with his arms folded, watching the two of you.  

“You coming along?  I’m just gonna go change into something more comfortable,” he tells you, the mild concern he’s been wearing on his face for the last few days still all too apparent.  

“Yeah, sure,” you smile half-heartedly, “I’ll meet you in there.”  Jimin flashes you a soft smile and then turns to leave.  “Jiminie, bring me a sweater back with you?”  He nods and then leaves the room, having to brush past Namjoon on his way out due to the taller vampire purposefully not stepping aside.  

Is it just the weather that’s left you feeling so cold lately?  You doubt it.  It does seem to have coincided with recent events all too conveniently to be just down to the slow encroach of winter.  Honestly, you could’ve never guessed that Yoongi’s absence would make you feel like this.  You knew you cared for him, of course, it’s always felt different with him than it has with the others.  And yes, you had spent a lot of time with each other since you’d moved in - almost every day, in fact, now you think about it - but you never expected to feel this gaping hole in your heart where Yoongi once was.  Perhaps, now you’re willing to admit it, your feelings for him are much stronger than you originally thought.

Jimin’s the only one who can lift your mood; his unfaltering devotion and love for you never failing to soothe you when he holds you in his arms.  Realising how deeply you feel for Yoongi hasn’t weakened your love for Jimin at all, as much as that confuses you.  In fact, it only makes you appreciate him more.  When you’re with Jimin you’re almost able to forget the way you’re aching for Yoongi, simply because when the older vampire’s soft face or gummy smile pops into your head it makes you feel too guilty to keep thinking of him for long.  Alone, he’s practically the only thing that runs through your mind.  

“Is everything ok with Yoongi -hyung ?”  Hobi breaks you out of your reverie with a start; you’d barely noticed he was walking beside you on your way to the gym, so caught up were you in your own thoughts.  He’s already appropriately dressed in a colourful t-shirt and loose sweat pants, ready to fight or work out or whatever it is that Namjoon wants them to do.

“What makes you think I should know?”  you reply, a little more curtly than usual.  You don’t mean to snap, but Hoseok’s question just serves to remind you of how far removed from you Yoongi has become.  You hear a faint, breathy laugh come from behind you, and instinctively you know the culprit is Namjoon.  He’s following the two of you to the gym, keeping well behind but still close enough to hear your conversation.   Choosing to ignore his presence you turn your head to look at Hobi as you walk, cringing inside when you see his chastised expression.

“I figured you two were close, that’s all.”  Of course he knows you’re close; it wasn’t so many days ago that they were able to smell him all over you.  “He’s spent more time with us since you’ve been here than he has in years.”  

“Really?”  

“Yeah.  You’ve definitely helped bring him out of whatever funk he was in before.”  Hearing that should make you happy but right now, in these circumstances, it only makes you feel like crying, cursing yourself for how badly you’ve fucked things up.  Maybe you did help him before, but now it seems like he’s right back to where he was before you arrived.  

It’s at that moment that you happen to pass by Yoongi’s closed door, and instantly there’s a painful lump in your throat and tears prickling in your eyes.  

“I don’t know if he’s alright,” you admit quietly, looking down at your feet for a moment to collect yourself.  You need to confide in someone about this, even if it’s not in all the gory details, otherwise you feel like you’re going to explode.  “We’ve kind of… fallen out.”

“Oh?”  Hobi’s eyebrows rise in surprise and when you flash him a feeble smile he places a consoling hand on your shoulder as you walk, squeezing you gently.  

“It’s not something I can really talk about too much.”

“Well you know where I am if you ever change your mind,” he tells you kindly, letting his hand drop from your shoulder as you arrive outside the gym and holding the door open for you to enter with a chivalrous smile.  You know he’ll spend the rest of the evening trying to cheer you up now; it’s just part of his sweet, sunshine nature that you’ve come to adore.  He really will make Sam happy if she gives him the chance, you just know it.  

Jin, Taehyung and Jungkook are already in the gym using various pieces of equipment when you arrive.  

“Can someone go fetch Yoongi from wherever the hell he’s hiding?”  Namjoon enters the room right behind you, his arm coming into contact with your shoulder as he brushes past, entirely ignoring your presence as he surveys the group.  At least he’s back to acting like to usual; as unpleasant as this Namjoon can be you still know how to handle this one better than whatever role he was playing the other night.  

“I already knocked his door but he didn’t answer,” Jin replies, taking a breathless pause from the leg curls he’s doing across the other end of the room.  Namjoon lets out a growl of frustration, running his hand through his hair, and for a second you think he’s about to march down to Yoongi’s room and drag him out himself.  Instead, he stalks towards the door you know leads to the room where you found Jimin dancing before, beckoning Hobi with a gruff shout of his name.  Hobi looks genuinely concerned, the corners of his mouth turned downward as he swallows hard and then follows after Namjoon to take whatever beatings Namjoon’s the mood to dish out in the name of ‘training’.    

You choose to follow after him out of sheer curiosity, eager to see how each of the boys fight and find out whether Jimin is really as skilled as they all say.  Namjoon glances at you as you pass through the doors but his face remains impassive as plants his feet solidly on the wooden floor, getting into a fighting stance as Hobi does the same opposite him, eyeing the younger vampire with obvious trepidation.  

The moment your bottom hits the floor, sinking down the wall to watch from the sidelines, Namjoon starts his attack.  He’s got an obvious height and weight advantage, using his long reach to swing and jab at the other from afar, exhaling noisily with each punch.  Hobi’s far quicker than Namjoon through, swerving and dodging from side to side to evade his punches, his own fists raised up in a defensive posture.  He moves like a dancer, surely too graceful to be a fighter, and you can see Namjoon getting more and more riled up the longer Hobi manages to dodge everything he throws at him.  

Eventually though, Hobi’s luck runs out.  He’s just gone on the offensive, striking out with a kick that’s obviously meant for Namjoon’s knee, when suddenly the taller vampire side steps and takes advantage of Hobi’s displaced balance, kicking out himself and sweeping Hobi’s leg out from under him.  You gasp as your friend hits the floor with a thud, landing heavily on his ass, and you expect that to be it then, anticipating Namjoon to help him up and either end the fight or begin another round, but no.  Namjoon spins into second kick, his bare foot connecting with the side of Hobi’s face with a sickening slap of skin on skin that has you gasping again.  

This time Hobi ends up flat on his back, groaning as he cradles his injured cheek, grimacing with the pain.  

“Not good enough,” Namjoon growls, standing over him.  “You didn’t manage to land a single hit on me before I had your ass on the ground.”  Hobi sits up, rotating his jaw, a bright red mark from Namjoon’s strike across his otherwise pale face.  

“Must be rustier than I thought,” Hobi murmurs, picking himself up the floor to stand almost chest to chest with Namjoon.  He’s not being confrontational; if anything his stance looks respectful, the earlier trepidation gone from his face and a serious, stern look replacing it.  “I’ll work harder, leader.  Next time I’ll do better.”  

“Good.”  Namjoon’s full lips turn into an unexpected smile as he pats Hobi’s uninjured cheek with a fondness you’ve never seen in him before, and strangely enough Hobi starts smiling in return.  You shake your head, watching the two of them with disbelieving eyes.  How do guys do this; tear into each other one minute and then go back to best buds the next?  

The studio door opens and in strolls Jimin, dressed more appropriately now in black sweats and a white vest that matches the one Namjoon is wearing.  Namjoon almost looks pleased to see him, clapping Hobi on the back as he beckons Jimin with his free hand.  

“Jimin- ah , come show our hyung how it’s done.”  Hobi takes his leave, slumping down next to you with a soft grunt as Jimin takes his place opposite Namjoon.  He glances your way, throwing you one of his hoodies as he flashes you a quick, reassuring smile when he notices the worried expression on your face; you really don’t want to watch Jimin go through what Hobi just had to endure.  You’re not sure you’d be able to just sit here and watch him take it without wanting to intervene yourself - for all the good that it’d do.  

“He’ll be fine,” Hobi assures you from his seat at your side, obviously having noticed your concern too.  You turn your head to look at him once your head has popped out the other side of the hoodie, tearing your eyes away from Jimin and Namjoon as they ready themselves and cringing at the nasty mark on Hobi’s face.  It looks even worse up close.  

“You ok?  That looks really nasty.”  

“Aches a bit.”

“A bit?” you scoff, watching Hobi nurse his jaw, rotating it again.  

“It’ll heal up in no time,” he assures you with a soft smile.  “You think it makes me look more manly?  Dangerous?”  His smile turns silly, cocking his head to the side as you giggle at him, shaking your own.  “Does… Sam like that kind of thing?”  Hobi ask haltingly, and you’re sure that if he could blush he would be.  The mark on his cheek almost makes it look like he is, anyway.

“Sure, she likes it.”

“Oh.”  He sounds crestfallen, but you’re not sure why; he’s a vampire for heaven’s sake, how much more dangerous can you get?  

“That doesn’t mean it’s good for her though.  Just be yourself Hobi, she’ll love you.”  He brightens once more, beaming happily and about to reply when you both become distracted by Jimin and Namjoon getting started.  

They weren’t wrong about Jimin being the best of them.  His speed is incredible to watch, his moves both elegant and powerful.  Unlike Hobi he somehow manages to dodge and go on the offensive at the same time, weaving and then striking out at Namjoon’s ribs with a right handed upper-cut that makes his elder stagger back with a laugh.  It’s almost funny, watching him get overwhelmed by someone so much shorter and softer than him, but the fear of the tables suddenly turning keeps you watching silently, chewing on your lip with worry.  

Jimin grunts as he delivers another heavy blow to Namjoon’s jaw, gifting him with an almost identical mark as the one he gave Hobi.  The two of them pause, each vampire out of breath, Namjoon massaging his jaw as he smiles slyly at his opponent.  

“See,” Namjoon pants, pointing his finger at Jimin and glancing at you, “This is why I can’t afford to let Jimin sit at home getting soft.”  You have to admit, he’s got a point.  If you were him you’d be tempted to send Jimin all the time too, reassured that he’s skilled enough to get the job done quickly and cleanly.  Still, the bags under Jimin’s eyes tell you he needs some respite - hopefully having a companion with him from now on will help lighten some of the load.  

“I was surprised when your little pet made a plea for you to be around more often,” Namjoon comments, stepping back towards Jimin and blocking the punch that comes his way, pushing his arm to the side with a grin and then shoving him backwards.  Jimin’s starting to tire; he’s peaked too quickly and used all his energy in that first assault, and now Namjoon is taking advantage of it.  “Given how much fun she has when you’re not here.”  

Jimin falters and comes to a standstill, his eyes narrowing as Namjoon smirks, quickly taking the opportunity to make a jab directly at Jimin’s nose while he’s sufficiently distracted.  Thankfully he manages to block it just in time, grunting with the effort of knocking Namjoon back.  

“I already know what she does, hyung ,” Jimin growls, and you can tell his temper’s starting to fray by the way his nostrils are flaring slightly as he breathes, chest heaving.  Goading Jimin was quite clearly Namjoon’s intention, and it seems to be working a treat.  “Because she gets my permission first. ”  They’re no longer fighting anymore, stood opposite each other just a few paces apart, both of their bodies coiled like springs, ready to strike at any moment.  

“Oh, I suppose it’s you I should thank then, Jimin- ah ,” Namjoon smiles, and you feel your stomach drop unpleasantly, knowing what’s coming next but unable to stop any of unfolding right before your eyes.  “She makes the sweetest little noises, doesn’t she?”  As soon as those sly words pass Namjoon’s sumptuous lips you see Jimin’s expression slip, his eyes that’d been glaring hard widening marginally, his mouth opening as he sharply inhales.  Namjoon’s revelling in his reaction, delighted in discovering that you’ve neglected to tell your lover about the brief encounters the two of you have shared.  

Hobi can only shift next to you, clearly uncomfortable with being present during this sort of intimate disclosure, and you’d feel sorry for him if you weren’t so caught up in your own state of panic. There’s a second of silence that’s only punctuated by the heavy breaths of multiple bodies, and you find yourself wishing that you could make yourself disappear, pressing your eyes closed because you’re too scared to watch what’s going to happen next.  

Jimin flies into a rage, lunging for Namjoon with a blood-curdling growl, and when you open your eyes you see Namjoon laughing, holding his opponent at arm’s length by his wrists.

“You're not usually so eager to share,” Namjoon continues to goad as Jimin pushes back against him.  Both of their swollen biceps are straining from the deadlock they're caught in, their muscles starting to shake with effort.  “What's changed, Jiminie?   She too much for you, or is she just that much of a slut?”  

“Don't talk about her like that,” Jimin warns, dipping his head forward towards Namjoon's, a dark, menacing look on his face.  

“No wonder she's whoring around; I bet you can't even make her cum with that little dick.”  Both you and Hobi tense at Namjoon's words, holding your breath to see what Jimin’s reaction will be.

Strangely, he backs off a few paces, a twisted smile curling his lips as sweat drips down his face.  He cups himself through his sweats, his normally pretty eyes darkened with something unsettling and unfamiliar.  

“Your sister seemed to like my ‘little dick’ just fine.”

Hobi gasps beside you as your own eyes widen, unable to believe that Jimin just said what he did.  For a moment time seems to stand still as Namjoon processes the words, his smug expression quickly transforming into a look of unbridled, murderous rage that's as beautiful as it is terrifying.  His lips pull back to expose his fangs, seeming to grow two foot more as he roars in anger before throwing himself at Jimin.

As skilled as Jimin is, he's still no match for the amount of raw power that comes hurtling towards him.  Namjoon knocks him to the floor like he weighs nothing, yelling in Korean as he pins Jimin to it with his knees in the crook of the others elbows.  Sat on Jimin’s chest, he starts to deliver blow after savage blow to the others face.  Thankfully the moment Namjoon had charged Hobi was already up on his feet, managing to grab hold of Namjoon's arms and restrain him before even the third punch falls.  He's struggling, though, unable to pull Namjoon off or even hold him back for too long as the other curses him, out for blood.

Hobi yells your name, and it's only then that you realise you've been sat, dumbstruck, just watching it all unfold.  

“Get the others!” he shouts, looking panicked.  Namjoon manages to yank an arm free and lashes out once more, a sickening snap telling you that Jimin’s nose is now broken.  

You jump to your feet and run to the gym, flinging the door open.  It's no wonder they didn't hear the commotion; they've got their music turned up loud and Taehyung’s doing some cute, silly little dance on the treadmill as Jungkook laughs at his antics.  

“Jin!” you shout, hysterical, tears running down your face as all three of their heads turn to look at you in alarm.  “He's gonna kill him!” You needn't say anymore; all three of them rush after you as you run back inside.  

Jimin’s trying to buck Namjoon off, kicking uselessly with his legs as Hobi tries in vain to pull Namjoon off of him.  Unthinkingly, you enter the fray.

“Namjoon, stop! ” You grab hold of his vest, yanking, but it's like a fly attempting to move a one tonne boulder, for all the good it does.  You're little more than an annoyance, and without taking his eyes off Jimin, Namjoon grabs your wrist and throws you away, so strong that you land halfway across the room, rolling across the polished wood floors before coming to a stop face down and whimpering with pain.  You roll onto your side, holding onto the hip that took the brunt of your fall as it throbs with pain, tears rolling sideways from your eyes and onto the floor.  

You hear Jungkook yell your name and suddenly he's at your side, squatting down next to you, fear and concern flooding his eyes.  He wraps his arm around your waist and eases you into a sitting position as you clutch your side, holding back panic-stricken sobs.  

“Are you ok?” he asks, his face only inches from yours, pretty hazel eyes scanning you all over.   

“Go help Jimin!”

“He's alright, they've got it, they've got it,” he reassures you, gently squeezing your uninjured side.  He helps you to stand, taking your hand in his, and once you're upright he continues to support you with that gentle hand on your waist, his gaze never leaving your face.   It's the closest you've ever been to Jungkook, and the longest he's ever held eye contact, but you barely even register it, looking past his shoulder to the foray of vampires on the floor.   

Jungkook was right; they've got it.   With the combined strength of the three of them Jin, Hobi and Taehyung manage to end Namjoon's assault, pulling him up and off Jimin’s chest.  For a moment Namjoon fights them, struggling against their hold as Jimin sits up with heaving breaths, wiping the blood that's running from his eyebrow and nose and mouth alike.   

“Namjoon- ah!   That's enough!” Jin yells, and finally Namjoon stops fighting, realising he's beaten.  After a minute of calm in which the room is full of the sounds of heavy breathing and your quiet sobs, the three vampires gently release their hold on their leader.  Taehyung looks terrified, his fingers twitching as he withdraws his hands like he's ready to grab hold again at a moment's notice.  

Thankfully, Namjoon doesn’t lunge again.  He just points at Jimin, furious, and spits a threat, his fangs still bared.

“Talk about her again, and you're dead .”

With that, he stalks out of the room, slamming doors behind him and making you cringe with each and every one.  

The atmosphere in the room stays just as tense even when he's gone.  Jin and Taehyung are glancing back at forth at Jungkook, wondering what the hells gone on, whereas Hobi just looks awkward, now sporting a busted lip, too.  And Jimin… Jimin’s looking across to where you're stood with Jungkook's arm around your waist and your hand on his shoulder, glaring at the two of you.  Clearly Namjoon's words got to him, his possessive nature flaring while his adrenaline still runs high.  He gets up slowly, wincing as he does, and then starts to walk across the room towards you.  

Suddenly, you're almost as furious as Namjoon.  Before you'd been too caught up in panic and worry to get mad, but now that Jimin’s safe and still breathing, you're more angry than you can ever remember being in your whole life, your blood burning in your veins.  

He reaches out to take you from Jungkook's grasp but you step back, out of his reach and away from Jungkook too.  

“Don't touch me,” you say fiercely, and Jimin's wounded face looks taken aback by your sudden outburst.  “How could you say that to him?!” Surprise morphs into indignance, his eyebrows knitting together as he frowns.  

“Did you hear the shit he was saying about you?!”

“Of course I did! But you're supposed to be better than that, Jimin! What you said was just as bad.”  You pause, cringing at the pain that shot through your hip when you shifted your weight.  “Actually, no, it was worse.”  

Jimin hesitates, looking you up and down and taking in the tenseness of your body and the sadness in your eyes.  At least your tears have dried up now.  You're too ashamed of the way he's behaved to cry.  

Finally Jimin has the decency to start looking shamefaced, glancing around at the others and then to his feet when he sees the way they're all staring.  He pushes back his hair as he looks back up at you, worrying his bottom lip with his teeth.  

“Look, I just…” He huffs a sigh, shrugging lamely, “I lost my temper. I'm sorry, I-"

“It's not me you should be apologising to.”  You stare back at each other for a moment, and though deep down you're longing to comfort him - he really does look a mess, even more so now his anger has faded, tiredness taking its place - you manage to resist the urge for now.  You're not done being mad at him yet.  “I'm going to go check on him.”

Jimin’s about to protest, reaching out to you again, but by that time you've already turned your back on him, halfway out the door.  

Chapter Text

As you leave the gym, limping slightly, you can’t help but wonder to yourself whether Jimin’s going to explain to the others what that fight was about or not.  You can understand them wanting to know - they had to break it up, after all - but something tells you that Jimin will probably skirt the question.  You can’t imagine Hobi will break his confidence and tell them either, if they ask.  You shake your head at no one in particular, sighing.  Poor Hoseok… getting dragged into all this.  You’re going to have to apologise to him later, for sure.  

Sounds of thudding and banging suddenly come from somewhere upstairs, the alarming noises above distracting you so much you almost don’t notice what’s right in front of your nose.  

Yoongi’s door is open.

You heart starts to pound, the air leaving your lungs when you see Yoongi himself pop his head out of the doorway, peering down the corridor in the direction of the hall and then up at the ceiling, frowning in confusion.  He doesn’t spot you until it’s too late; by the time he turns his head to look in your direction you’re already stood right outside his doorway, your hands clasped together anxiously in front of you.  

“Yoongi…” you breathe softly, your gaze rushing over every inch of his face lest it be disappear so cruelly again.  It feels like years, not days, since you last saw him, and even though his whole posture screams tensity you can tell by the way he scanning you with widened eyes that he’s doing exactly the same thing as you.  His hair’s a mess, like he’s just woken up, and it takes all of your effort not to reach out and run your fingers through it.   You can’t stop yourself from stepping forward though, drawn towards him like a magnet, wincing and rubbing at your hip as it throbs with the movement.  God, that’s going to ache for days.  

“You’re hurt?” His voice is raspy, like he hasn’t spoken since that fateful conversation days ago.  

“Just a little,” you reply quickly, eager to move onto much more important topics, like fixing this mess you’ve found yourselves in.  “Can we talk?  Please?  I need to-”

“I don’t have anything to say.”

“You don’t have to talk... I just want a chance to explain,” you plead, aware of how desperate you sound but not caring at all.  Yoongi frowns, shifting his weight from one foot to another with his hand resting on the doorframe, and he’s just about to speak when another crash comes from upstairs, louder than the last.  

“It sounds like you’ve got more important things to deal with right now.”  How very wrong he is.  There’s nothing more important to you than him right now; even if Namjoon was tearing down the very walls around you, making things right with him would still be your first priority.  

Yoongi starts to retreat back into his room, but before he can step too far away or close the door you quickly grab a hold of his hand in desperation, forcing him to stop.  How can Yoongi’s hand in yours feel so comforting, even when it’s ice cold?  He looks down at your hands, surprising you by not pulling away when you link your fingers together, squeezing gently.  

“I miss you,” you admit bravely, struggling to speak past the lump in your throat.  He looks back to you, and you hope it’s not just wishful thinking that gives you the impression that Yoongi’s beginning to thaw, his expression becoming just a tiny bit softer as the seconds tick by.  

“I don’t know how to do this,” he sighs after a moment, letting his head hang forward and shaking it defeatedly.  

“Maybe… I can start coming for my piano lessons again?”  That’d be something at least… a start to repairing the damage you’ve caused.  He lifts his head again, studying your hopeful expression before finally nodding his consent.  

“You’ll only suck again if you don’t,” he adds, the corners of his mouth turning up into the tiniest smile you’ve ever seen.  If you’d have blinked you would’ve missed it because in the next moment it’s gone again, Yoongi’s face becoming serious and sullen again. You know you definitely saw it though - the way your heart is thundering in your chest is proof enough of that it existed.  “Not sure I could endure that torture again.” Despite everything, Yoongi's savagery still manages to make you laugh.  You knock your shoulder into his playfully, feeling lighter than you have in days, and this time he really does smile, lips curving, eyes creasing.  

Unfortunately a sequence of loud thuds from upstairs interrupts the two of you, and when you glance at the ceiling, chewing your lip worriedly, Yoongi squeezes your hand before releasing it entirely.  

“Go on, go fix whatever needs fixing.”  He knows you too well, he really does.

“Thank you,” you tell him sincerely, both for understanding you need to leave and for granting you the chance to make things right again.  Yoongi's leans his head to the side, resting it against the doorframe as you turn to leave, and when you glance backward at the end of the corridor you see him still standing there in the open door, watching you go with a thoughtful look on his face.  

Climbing the stairs is not a comfortable task right now, not with your hip protesting the way it is, and you're about to climb the flight to take you upstairs to Namjoon’s room when another loud bang both startles you and makes you realise he's actually still somewhere on this floor.  

You follow your gut all the way down to the study, trying not to listen to that little voice in your head that's telling you this is a very, very bad idea.  You're fairly certain he would’ve killed Jimin if the others hadn't intervened, and here you are delivering yourself to him only fifteen minutes later.  What hope do you have if he decides to take out his rage on you too?  

Still, for some reason you have some misplaced faith in Namjoon that makes you think he won't knowingly hurt you.  Stupid, really, seeing as he's the reason your left side is throbbing like it is.  It's probably because of the way he acted the other night; that brief glance of his softer side he gave you when he wiped your tears away.  

Not that that incident seemed to have any kind of influence on his behaviour today.  Namjoon certainly wasn't soft when he was revealing your antics to Jimin, nor when he was breaking his nose.

Still, it's too late now.  Your feet have already carried you to the open door of the study, and as you take in the carnage laid out in front of you your eyes slowly widen, heart pounding as your adrenaline spikes.  Namjoon hasn't noticed you yet, and you thank God for that.  He's too busy pacing the study floor with his hands twisted in his hair, his eyes fixed on the floor as he mutters to himself frantically in Korean.  He's stepping over books that he's ripped from the shelves and loose pages that are littering the floor - the eye of a storm, leaving destruction in his wake.  He's toppled a whole bookcase in it's entirety and flipped the table too, the lamp that usually sits atop of it lying in pieces against the far wall.  

Some thought must set Namjoon off again, because suddenly he starts grabbing book after book off the remaining bookshelf, throwing them against the wall as he yells in frustration.  There's so much anger behind it that the books actually dent the plaster, chips of it falling to the floor.  It isn't until one hits the wall not too far from you and makes you gasp that Namjoon actually realises you're there.  

He becomes deathly still but remains completely tense, drawing himself up to full height as he faces you.  He looks terrifying; his lips pulled back, fangs bared, hair in disarray from the way he was tearing at it before.  

“Get out,” he snarls menacingly, each word aggressively punctuated, and you really would be well and truly frightened if it weren't for what you see when the swinging lampshade suddenly casts light across his face.  

He's crying, and the sight of it takes your breath away.  Streaks of salty tears are running down his face, plain to see now that you know they're there, his pain-riddled eyes shining with moisture as they stare back at you, watching you guardedly.

You’re so caught off guard seeing him this way. Being witness to such rare vulnerability from Namjoon makes you wish you could say something to offer some comfort, your heart aching for him when a fresh bout of tears rolls down his cheeks, but what can you say?

An apology would probably seem insincere, and asking if he's ok would just be idiotic - it's all too obvious that he's a million miles away from ‘ok’ at the moment.  Maybe actions speak louder than words anyway?

Very cautiously you enter the room, watching Namjoon's body language closely as you take slow steps towards him.  You’re looking for any indication that he might suddenly fly into a rage again or lash out, but if anything he starts to increasingly unsure and suspicious the closer you get, no anger in him left to be seen.  The tears keep coming though, dripping one after another down his cheeks as he blinks, looking down at you once you're stood in front of him.  

You give him a small smile that you hope is reassuring, acting on instinct when you gently reach up to touch his face.  Namjoon actually leans back a little when he realises what you're doing, his eyes widening as he stares at your hand like it's a foreign object, hovering just in front of his face.  He glances back down at you, at that little smile you're wearing, and then exhales heavily, his breath shaking like he’s frightened of you.

Copying his gesture exactly you gently run your thumb over each of his cheeks, wiping away his tears one by one until they finally cease to fall, and when you're done Namjoon just stares down at you like you're… you don't even know.  The expression on his face is so foreign you can't even begin to identity it.  

You let out a breath you hadn't even realised you'd been holding as your hand leaves his face, managing to look away from his intense gaze long enough to look around you and survey the carnage.  You still don't know what to say so you set about tidying up without a word, collecting the books you love off the floor and placing those that are still intact back on the remaining bookcase.  

Surprisingly enough Namjoon joins your efforts after a minute or two, remaining just as silent as you.  It makes you gawp when he effortlessly lifts the bookcase back in place. It'd probably take two or three human men to do the same task, but Namjoon makes the solid wood look like it weighs no more than cheap plywood.  He rights the table and chairs too, and within fifteen minutes the room looks semi-presentable again.  The lamp’s still broken, and there are still dents in the wall, but there’s nothing either of you can do about that.  

“I'm sorry for what he said,” you apologise once it's done, feeling like you have to say something, turning on the spot to see Namjoon stood right behind you.  You don't have to mention Jimin’s name for him to know exactly what you're referring to, and just the mention of it is enough to have him clenching his jaw tightly.

“It's not your apology to make,” he answers through gritted teeth, a dark look flashing across his face before he banishes it with a slight shake of his head.  “I'm sorry you got hurt.”  He briefly presses his fingertips to your hip, obviously having noticed the way you were wincing as you'd bent up and down picking up his mess.  His touch sends a jolt of electricity up your spine, all your hairs standing on end as he breaks contact.  “And thank you… for coming to check on me.”

Namjoon hesitates for a second, glancing away uncomfortably as he shifts his weight from foot to foot and folds his arms across his chest.  

“It's been a long time since anyone cared enough to do that…”

“The others care about you-" you start to disagree, but Namjoon cuts you off with a shake of his head and a bitter smile.

“No, they don't.  Not anymore.  And neither should you.” You frown, keeping silent, watching pain contort Namjoon's handsome features as he continues.  “I destroy everything.  Anything and anyone I love, I ruin.  They keep their distance; it's safer that way.”  Pausing as you watch him look to the ceiling and the floor, inhaling and exhaling hard, you can't help but feel sorry for him.  

Namjoon might act like a total asshole most of the time, but part of you wonders if perhaps that behaviour is borne partly by his self-inflicted isolation.  If you never interact with anyone, if you hide yourself away and let all these thoughts fester - you're unloved, you're destructive, no-one does or should care - then of course you're going to be a social nightmare.  He's stuck in a vicious cycle, playing the role that's now expected of him, both by the others and himself.

Still, you're convinced there's something softer in him.  You can see it now, in the glassy vulnerability in his eyes, and you saw it the other night when he wiped away your tears.  To do the things he did for his sister, too, the lengths he went to try and save her and the ferocity of his reaction just now.  Namjoon’s clearly more than capable of caring, and very deeply, if you're not mistaken.  

“I think you think you think worse of yourself than anyone else here, Namjoon,” you tell him softly, reaching out and placing your hand on his folded arms, rubbing his cold skin with your thumb gently back and forth.  Again he looks confused by the softness of your touch, and it makes your heart hurt to think how long it must’ve been since anyone at all showed him any innocent affection.  “Just because you're a vampire, it doesn't have to make you a monster.”

Namjoon remains quiet, but you can tell he's spinning those words around in his mind by how deep in thought he suddenly looks, gazing down at you, his eyes flicking between yours.  He unfolds his arms and takes the hand that'd rested on them between both his own, cupping it gently.  “I've been so cruel to you, toyed with you… how can you- I don't deserve-"  You cut him off by quickly standing up on your tiptoes and pressing a soft, quick kiss against his cheek.  Namjoon’s too shocked for words when you sink back on your heels, letting your hand slip from between his easily as you take it back.

“I have faith there's someone better in there, somewhere.  He just needs someone to believe in him.”  You flash him a hopeful smile, and after a second, after he's blinked once and then twice, a slow smile grows on his face too.  It's different to his usual smiles; this one’s sweet and almost shy, his dimples making an appearance as he looks down at the floor.  

“Thank you,” he tells you again as you're heading towards the door, his hands in his pockets now.  For once he looks his age; the gangly, unsure middle child of a group of seven, not a leader, not a monster.  

“Anytime, Joonie.”

You aren't sure whether to expect Jimin to be there or not when you get back into his room, but he's sat waiting for you on the edge of the bed, head in his hands.  When you push open the door he immediately looks up with wide, hopeful eyes.  Rising from the bed he rushes over to you, sighing your name in relief but stopping just short of touching you.

“He didn't hurt you?” Jimin asks, looking you over.  It's ridiculous really, him worrying about you when his face looks the way it does, all swollen and bruised.  Once again you feel a pang of concern for him, one that you quickly push away.  You’re still mad at Jimin for what he said, especially after seeing what a devastating effect it had.  

“I'm not the one he's mad at,” you answer shortly, stepping around him to pause by where Nova is lying atop of the sheets, stroking her gently as you speak. “You really hurt him Jimin - you know how sensitive he is about his sister, and you still went ahead and used that against him.”

“So I should’ve just let him keep saying that stuff about you?” He opens his arms in exasperation, shrugging his shoulders.  

“Of course not,” you sigh, letting your hand drop from Nova and turning to look at him sadly.  “But what you said was just cruel; not like you at all.  I don't know what to think.”  

What you're saying is true - the Jimin you love would never be so callous as he just was.  Now that your anger is fading you're just disappointed in him, and you think he can read that quite plainly from the look that you're wearing.

For the first time since you've met him, Jimin looks small and lost, staring at you helplessly from across the room.  

“Just… hearing him say those things, finding out that you've been-" He stops himself short, grimacing as if he's in pain, not looking at you when he asks, “...Have you slept with him?”

“No!  During the movie the other night...Tae wouldn't have done anything if Namjoon hadn’t been encouraging it.  And then once he started… Namjoon joined in too.”  You brace yourself for a whole different fight to start then but all Jimin does is sigh, pushing his hair back.  

“Of course he did,” Jimin mutters to himself, looking tired rather than angry now, and more sad than anything else.  

“Was what you said about his sister true?”  you ask, unable to keep yourself from asking the question that had been running through your mind ever since those words had passed his lips.   It catches Jimin off guard, making him look at you for the first time in a little while, those perfect lips of his parting.  He hesitates for a second before answering, but then finally nods.

“It's true.”  You feel a nasty, irrational pang of jealousy on hearing him confirm it, and you know it's ridiculous, all things considered, but it's still there.  It makes you drop your eyes from his face and swallow hard, hating the mental image of Jimin with someone else.  God, what a hypocrite you are.  “It was after Ji Su…”  You presume that must’ve been the name of his childhood sweetheart - he’s never actually said her name before, and you can hear the pain in his voice when he does.  “Geongmin was there for me.  It was never anything serious; I doubt we’d have even looked at each other under normal circumstances but… being stuck in that hospital together… it was a comfort.”  When you look back at him again he shrugs, watching you with a worried expression as he takes a few steps forward, closing some of the space between you.  “We only slept together once, right after she found out she was terminal.  She was scared she’d never…” He leaves the end of the sentence hanging, knowing that you’ll know what he means whether he says it out loud or not.  “No one ever knew about it until now.”   

“Until you threw it in Namjoon’s face,” you add harshly.  Jimin has the good graces to flinch,finally repentant enough now to look well and truly ashamed of himself.  A silence falls between the two of you as you look at him, trying to figure out how you feel.  

You love Jimin, and one stupid mistake on your part isn’t going to change that.  Hell, if it could then you’re sure you’ve already made enough to have messed things up more than once already.  Despite having no doubts about your depth of feeling for him, however, you’re not sure whether or not you want to be around him tonight.  Everything feels so raw, and though you’re not angry anymore you still feel fragile, like the slightest of things could set you off, and you don’t want to risk you and Jimin getting into an argument about nothing and saying things you might regret later.  

It’s with that thought in mind that you collect a change of clothes from your drawers and the nightwear you keep underneath your pillow, not seeing Jimin’s wide, frightened eyes until you turn towards the bathroom to seek out your toiletries.  

“What’re you doing?” he asks, and even though you’ve noted his troubled expression you somehow miss the tremble present in his voice.

“I think I’m going to sleep somewhere else tonight… just to give us both some space,” you explain, pulling out a clean pair of underwear and adding it to the pile in your arms.  Maybe you could ask Jin if you could stay in his room?  You know he’ll be more of a gentleman than the others, and you’re not sure Yoongi would welcome you back to that extent just yet.

Jimin’s eyes grow even wider, his hands shaking at his sides, all of which you neglect to see until a quiet, breathy ‘no’ brings your attention back to him.  When you finally look at him, really look , you feel pain stab at your heart as your lips part in a silent gasp.  You’ve reduced him to the appearance of a little boy, one who’s spilling tears down his cheeks from terrified eyes, biting his bottom lip as his chin wobbles, grabbing at the bottom of the vest he’s wearing like he’s trying to cling to something, anything for comfort.  

“Jimin…”  

Before you can realise what’s happening Jimin’s closed the gap between you and fallen to his knees at your feet, wrapping both his arms around your thighs as he presses his face into your lower stomach.  He’s sobbing against you, completely silent, only the shaking of his shoulders giving away how distraught he is, and all you can do is stare down at the top of his head, dumbstruck, unsure what on earth you’ve done to prompt this kind of reaction.  

“Please, don’t leave me,” Jimin pleads thickly, upturning his wounded, tear-stained face to look up at you, “Please, I’ll do anything you want, just don’t leave, please.”

Chapter Text

The clothes you'd collected end up in a crumpled pile on the floor when you drop them without thought beside you, freeing up your hands to take hold of Jimin’s face, brushing away his tears as they fall one after another.  You're at a loss for words, staring down the beautiful, broken face that's looking back at you.  How could he possibly think that that's what you meant?  Does Jimin really think your love so shallow that something like this would make you abandon him?  Of course he does - why would he think any different when he's already been cast aside once by someone he'd loved for so long?

You realise now that this is what Jimin’s overwhelmingly emotional reaction is about; he's gone into a total panic, assuming that you taking some space is synonymous with drawing your relationship to a close. It breaks your heart to know he’s thinking that way because you can only imagine what your reaction would be if Jimin told you it was over.  You’d probably be ten times the mess he is and a million times less attractive, what with your propensity to develop a red, splotchy face and runny nose whenever you’re upset.  

“Jimin, I’m not-”  You pause to swallow, realising that your eyes are starting to threaten tears too, “That’s not what I meant, not at all.”  Jimin’s moisture filled eyes just keep searching yours, pleading for answers and for reassurance as you struggle to keep up with wiping away the salty trails on his cheeks.  “I’m not going anywhere, ok?  Never.”  

“I thought…” He trails off, pressing his eyes closed as he turns his head, biting his lip as pain flashes across his face.  You use your hold on his face to turn it back to you, and when he opens his eyes again you look down into them with an intensity that borders on fierce.

“You thought wrong.  I’m not leaving you, Jimin.  I’d never do that to you.”  Grabbing hold of his hands that are still clutching onto the backs of his thighs you pull him to standing, looking up at him now rather than down, relieved that no more fresh tears seem to making an appearance.  “You mean too much to me,” you tell him softly, linking together your fingers where they hang by your side and stepping closer so you can rest your cheek against Jimin’s chest and close your eyes.  His breathing is still a little ragged, chest shuddering slightly as he exhales, but as soon as you’re pressed to him Jimin squeezes your hands, pressing his face into your hair and inhaling deeply, like the scent of you soothes some primal part of him.  

“I’m sorry,” he murmurs quietly, his voice sounding tight and raw from all the crying he’s done.

Honestly, Jimin doesn’t need to apologise to you anymore.  Any remaining anger you had, any doubt about wanting to be around him, it’s all been completely wiped away by seeing him this way.  If it’s a manipulation on his part to earn instant forgiveness then it’s definitely a good one, but something in your gut tells you that his reaction was nothing but genuine.  

“I know you are,” you say into Jimin’s chest, pulling your hands from his and wrapping your arms around him instead, your palms pressed to his shoulder blades.  

“I just love you so much…”  Jimin fingers start to run through your hair, the other wrapped around your waist as your heart flutters as it always does on hearing those words.  “I’ve got no self-control when you’re around; my temper, my thirst, my desire… it all goes to hell.”  One of Jimin’s gentle fingers comes to rest under your chin to tilt your face upward, and when you look at him again Jimin looks almost back to his normal self - save the bruises on his face and swollen nose and jaw.  “You have no idea what you do to me.”  

“I think I know how you feel,” you answer softly, because you really, truly do.  You’d never thought you could feel like this, and it’s as scary as it as liberating, all at the same time.  Your heart feels swollen in your chest, thumping like it’s trying to break through your ribs to get to him, and ever the slave to your impulses you tip forward to press your mouth to Jimin’s in an eager kiss, melting into him when he kisses you back just as desperately.  “I love you,” you tell him between the meeting of your lips, and the next time they press you feel Jimin’s curved into a slight smile, his hand twisting in your hair to pull you closer.  

Gently, you kitten-lick at Jimin’s lips until he parts them, granting you access to his mouth.  It almost feels strange kissing this way.  You’re so used to Jimin taking the lead that to have him hold back and allow you to explore the cavern of his mouth, rolling your tongue against his, feels completely foreign.  Odd, but wonderful all the same. .  

You moan quietly when Jimin lightly sucks on your bottom lip, and on hearing the sound you make he suddenly scoops you up in his arms without warning, only breaking your kiss when you wince slightly from the ongoing soreness of your hip.  Jimin smiles apologetically at you, adjusting his grip enough to carry you comfortably over to the bed bridal style, and when he pulls away after carefully laying you down there's nothing but love burning in his eyes for you, so intense that it takes your breath away.

“Jimin...” you faintly implore, extending your reach towards him as he climbs onto the bed too, leaning over you as you pull his vest up and over his head, no longer possessing the nerves that would’ve once made you hesitate.  You long to feel his naked body pressed to yours, that familiar ache starting to take you over as he unhurriedly removes your shirt too.  He's so being so soft and so gentle that it only makes you want him more, and with eager hands you slide down his sweats and boxers too, smiling into the kiss you're sharing when he fumbles in trying to kick them off.  

When you feel Jimin's hard length nudge against your stomach you keenly wrap him in your palm and tease him with a firm squeeze, adoring the stilted moan that it pulls from his lips.  Jimin’s hips flex forward gently with each and every stroke of your hand, his eyes closed above you, dragging his bottom lip through his teeth as you torment him with slow pleasure.  

He changes position, letting himself sink into the mattress to lie on his side, and as soon as his graceful hands are freed from supporting his weight they start working on your pants, Jimin obviously keen for you to be as naked as he is.  He takes his time, kissing you leisurely as you continue to pleasure him, making him groan into the kiss more than once as he strips your lower half. As soon as Jimin’s able to he’s touching you, rubbing his fingertips gently back and forth between your folds as you match his pace, steadily moving your hand up and down his cock with a gentle twist of your wrist.  You honestly hadn’t realised just how wet his kiss had made you, but it’s hardly a surprise; your body has never had an issue in responding to even the lightest of Jimin’s touches, and today is no exception.  

The feel of his fingers starting to circle your clitoris only further heightens your awareness of your own state of arousal, almost completely forgetting about pleasuring Jimin when he firmly rubs at the hardened bud, your pelvic muscles clenching as you moan into the pillow.  He kisses you deeply, tongue brushing yours as your hips flex forward towards his hand, trying to lure him in by tiling halfway onto your back and letting your thighs fall further apart.  Thankfully Jimin takes your not-so-subtle hint; one of his fingers slipping inside, groaning against your neck as he feels your warm, wet walls squeezing around the intrusion.  As soon as you’ve accommodated the first then a second joins it, and when Jimin starts to make slow, taunting come hither movements against your g-spot your hips start to move all of their own accord, pushing back with every curl of his fingers.

“I want you,” Jimin murmurs into the valley of your breasts, uttered between lingering kisses on that softest of flesh.  

“Take me then,” you encourage breathlessly, squirming as his fine, silver hair tickles your skin.  For another minute or so Jimin continues to stroke at your insides, relishing the sweet, needy sounds you make, but eventually he withdraws his fingers from your heat and then wordlessly takes hold of your hand, smiling as he rolls onto his back and takes you with him, maneuvering your bodies so that you’re on top, straddling his thighs.  At first you can only look down at him in confusion, your eyebrows raised as you struggle to understand.  This uncharacteristic act of submission on his part has left you completely blindsided, and when Jimin reads the expression on your face he chuckles quietly, sitting up for a moment to cup your cheeks in his hands and kiss you with so much passion that it leaves you breathless.  

Jimin doesn’t need to say anything when the kiss ends and he lays back down; the love shining in his eyes and the timid, sweet smile on his lips tells you everything you need to know and more.  This changing of roles is Jimin trying to demonstrate just how much you mean to him - his relinquishing of control acting as a display of the absolute trust he’s putting in you to not break his already fragile heart.  There’s no power games at work now, no daddy and kitten or dirty words, just you and Jimin and the love you share.  

If it were a more appropriate moment you would probably already be crying at how the gesture moves you.  Your heart feels like it’s grown to twice the usual size inside your chest and as you swallow the lump in your throat you gently stroke Jimin’s hair back from his face, smiling like the lovesick idiot you are.  He’s so beautiful, so angelic in appearance… it doesn’t matter how many times you study his face, you’ll never stop being amazed that one person could be so close to perfect even when he’s covered in nicks and bruises like he is now. 

“Don’t make me beg, please,” Jimin says quietly, flicking his eyes down to glance at his cock lying hard, swollen and neglected on his stomach, a small pool of pre-cum forming just below his belly-button.  He looks back up to you, his hands resting on either side of your hips and squeezing your uninjured side, eager and impatient to be inside you but still mindful of hurting you.  You could point out that what he just said was in itself a plea of some sorts, but you’re not sure Jimin’s pride could take it so all you do is smile, leaning over him to capture his lips in the sweetest, most loving of kisses.  

You reach down between your bodies and take him in your hand while you kiss, loving the way his length twitches and throbs in your grasp as Jimin lets out a little gasp of pleasure.  You shift forward slightly, sitting astride his hips rather than his thighs and lifting yourself so that you’re hovering above him, using your grasp on his cock to teasingly rub the very tip of him through your folds, sighing softly against his mouth.  Showing more self-restraint than you ever thought possible you continue to do this for as long as you can bare, waiting for Jimin to start squirming underneath you, digging his fingertips into your hips before you end your mutual agony, his pained expression melting into one of pure bliss as you sink yourself slowly onto his cock.  

You let your torso relax forward as you allow yourself time to accommodate his considerable girth, Jimin unhooking your bra and slipping it off you as you kiss and nuzzle at his neck, your hands running through his hair.  

“You’re so beautiful Jimin,” you whisper sweetly in his ear as you gradually start to move, and on hearing your words Jimin wraps his arms around you, his chest rising and falling heavily underneath yours.  “You make me feel so good…”  Rocking your hips steadily back and forth you feel Jimin start to nibble at your earlobe, his breath laboured and husky so close to your ear.  It sends delicious jolts of pleasure all along your spine, all the hairs on the back of your neck rising for him to feel as his hand slips up from your back to cradle the back of your head.  His other moves down to palm your behind, encouraging the rocking of your body as he helps to flex your hips with gentle downward pressure, rolling his up against you too to get deeper inside and make it even more pleasurable for the both of you.  

“Keep-keep doing that,” you tell him breathily, sitting yourself more upright and bracing yourself with your palms flat on his chest as you steadily start to increase your pace, biting your lip as it starts to feel even better than before.  Jimin’s cock is brushing against all the right places inside you, the expert movement of his hips just heightening your pleasure all the more, and soon you’re practically mewling with pleasure on top of him, your eyes closed tight as you focus solely on the sensation of him inside you.  

One of his hands reaches up to cup your breast, kneading it in his palm as you move, tweaking at the nipple just hard enough to make your inner walls clench and squeeze around him, Jimin moaning sinfully when he feels it and tilting his head back into the pillow.  

“Close?” you check, out of breath and sweating slightly from how hard you’re working.  You’re alternating between sliding yourself up and down on his cock as well as back and forth, focusing solely on Jimin’s pleasure as you try to ignore the way the muscles in your thighs are complaining.  It’s nothing compared to the way your hip is aching anyway, but you try not to think about that, knowing that any soreness you feel afterwards will be more than worth it.   

“I’m not cumming without you…” Jimin’s eyes are shrouded and dark with lust as he looks up at you from underneath the strands of his hair that have fallen in front of his face.  His dominant side is making a reappearance as his orgasm draws near, you can tell from the way he’s clenching his jaw and grabbing at the tops of your thighs, fingertips digging into your flesh, but honestly you don’t mind at all; being Jimin’s willing subject is all you live and breathe for.  

“Please Jimin,” you whine, pressing your nails into his chest, knowing that you could get there yourself eventually but choosing to egg him on, craving the power he exerts over your body when he takes control.  “Make me cum, please.”  

When he hears your soft, needy pleas, any sense of restraint left in him leaves Jimin entirely.  He’s overwhelmed by his urge to take you and claim you, to make you so mindless with pleasure that by the time he’s done the only thing you’ll know is his name.  He forgets forgets all about the sweet, loving Jimin that lay beneath you just five minutes ago and grabs savagely at your hips, regardless of how it might hurt you, growling at the back of his throat as he starts to thrust up into you from underneath.  He bounces you on his cock like a ragdoll, slamming into you with his powerful thighs, buttocks and hips as they work in tandem, smiling in satisfaction at the way you start to gasp and moan with every thrust.  

“You like that?” he grunts, watching your face as it contorts in ecstasy, biting his lip, sweat trickling down the side of his face as he pushes you towards your orgasm.  Jimin’s fucking you so hard that you can barely keep your balance, having to fall forward and lean your chest on his for support as he continues his relentless pace.  

You moan his name stiltedly into his neck, grabbing onto his hair as he fucks up into you, his cock pounding against your g-spot at the most perfect of angles, and you can feel him getting harder, can feel him getting close, and that just makes it feel all the more incredible.  You can feel your own orgasm coming, exquisite pleasure burning hot in your pelvis, every push of Jimin’s hips so intense that it’s almost akin to agony.  

“Jimin, god, I-mnff-I’m so close,” you slur, barely realising how hard you're tugging on his hair as you lose all sense of rhythm and coordination, completely at the mercy of Jimin’s every move.

“Me too, fuck, you're gonna make me cum,” he huffs, letting go of your hips to wrap his arms around you, holding your body to his as his motions become sloppier too.  He groans your name through gritted teeth and you swear you've never heard a sweeter sound until he moans it again, right in your ear. “Cum with me, c’mon, let it go.”

You gasp when it finally overwhelms you, burning you up from the inside out, every nerve in your body screaming with pleasure as nonsensical sounds pour out of you, muffled by Jimin’s mouth.  The moment he feels your walls contract around him Jimin succumbs too.  He bites down on your bottom lip as he cums, hard, spilling into you with in a series of deep, slow thrusts, his cock twitching sporadically until both of you are completely spent.  

As soon as you manage to summon the will to move you sluggishly turn your head to the side, letting it fall onto the pillow as you try to catch your breath.  You’ve got a stupid, blissed out smile on your face that must be infectious, because when Jimin turns to look at you his full lips curve into the softest, sweetest of smiles too.  

“Love you,” you whisper quietly and Jimin’s smile only grows, his eyes creasing with happiness.  

“Love you,” he whispers back, caressing your cheek softly.  It’s only then, in that after-sex glow when you let your eyes drift lazily over his face, that you realise that Jimin neglected to take the opportunity to feed.  The bruising on his face is coming along nicely, turning a deep purple in several different spots, the bridge of his nose painfully swollen too.  He’d probably look a mess if he weren’t so damn beautiful to begin with.  “Why didn’t you feed?  You haven’t had any in days,” you say, sounding more chastising than you intend to as you sit up, climbing off of him to sit at his side instead, removing your collar.  It's funny how your concern for him cuts straight through the lingering haze of your orgasm, your mind suddenly crystal clear when it comes to ensuring Jimin's health and happiness. 

“Don’t,” Jimin interrupts, sitting upright too and taking hold of your wrist firmly, stopping you midway.  You cock your head in confusion, frowning, but he just shakes his head.  “I deserve these.  I shouldn’t get away so lightly.”  

“Jimin…”  You pull your wrist from his grasp, continuing to take it off despite his objections, pushing your hair to one side.  “I can’t stand seeing you hurt like this, whether you deserve it or not.”  Tilting your head to the side you look at him imploringly, hoping that the sight of your exposed, vulnerable skin will lure him in.  “Please.”  

It’s working; you can tell by the way Jimin’s eyes are drawn to your neck, fixating on your jugular as it visibly pulses with blood, your heart beating hard and fast from all the exertion you just endured.  He licks his lips, eyes darting up to yours for just a split second before he pounces, fixing his hand in your hair and tugging your head further to the side as he slices into your neck, fangs piercing hard and deep.  

You let out a strangled moan, clutching onto his shoulders as that pain-pleasure mix washes over you, endorphins winning the fight over adrenaline and making your head swim as he drags the blood from your veins.  For someone that had said he didn’t want it, Jimin’s certainly making the most of your offer.  He gorges himself on you, drinking almost to the point of you passing out and only stopping when he realises how you’re starting to sag against him, your grip on him going lax, hands falling to your sides.  You don’t begrudge him for it though, not when it’s left you feeling so wonderfully high.  If it weren’t for the fact you’d only just orgasmed you’re sure it would’ve happened again during his feed, but you don’t really mind missing out on that either.  In fact, you don’t really care much about anything right now, happy to let Jimin manhandle you into a suitable position for sleep, smiling goofily up at him as he leans over you with concern in his eyes.  

“See?” you giggle, reaching up and patting his now pristine cheek, “All better.”  

“Are you ok?  I took too much, didn’t I?”

“I’m fine Jiminie, promise,” you grin, having to close your eyes because of the way the room is spinning, “Jus’ need some sleep.  Now come on, come cuddle.”  Jimin let’s you pull on his shoulders, falling into bed next to you and rolling onto his back to accommodate the way you’re already trying to snuggle up to him.  He helps you into his arms, laughing softly when you nuzzle into his chest making strange little noises of contentment, slinging your arm over his waist and squeezing him tight.  

“Hmm… nightie night.”  You fall asleep so fast and so deep that you don’t even feel the kiss Jimin affectionately presses to the top of your head or him quietly you wishing you the sweetest of dreams.  

Chapter Text

By the time you wake up the following evening Jimin’s nowhere to be seen.  He’s already off out on his next assignment - wherever the hell it might be -  though the only reason you know this is because Jimin left a note on his pillow telling you so.  You find it when you turn over, reaching out with bleary eyes in search of his sleeping body but touching cold, empty sheets instead.  His handwriting is unexpectedly neat, feminine almost, and with it he tells you that he’ll be home soon and not to worry; he’s got Jin- hyung with him to keep him company and keep him safe.  

You smile to yourself as you roll over onto your back, rubbing your eyes.  You’re glad he’s got Jin with him, not only because they’re more likely to come back in one piece that way, but also because it means Jin will get something proper to eat too, for once.  Glancing over to Jimin’s clock you’re surprised to see how late you’ve slept, putting it down to the blood loss you sustained last night.  The way your vision spots a little when sit up just adds further weight to that theory; Jimin really did go to town, didn’t he?  Still, you can’t begrudge him too much for it - he did have a lot of healing to do after Namjoon nearly beat him to a pulp, after all.

You take your time in getting out of bed, aware that you might be more physically weak than you first think, so you’re pleasantly surprised when all that happens is a slight wobble as you stand, a slight breathlessness that passes after a minute or two.  Besides, you can’t afford to not get out of bed; you’ve got a very important piano to attend.  

You really should hurry - Yoongi's probably wondering where you are - and as you head into the bathroom you can't help but wonder how today will go.  What’ll Yoongi have to say? Will he have forgiven you yet?  Hopefully he will have done; the ache in your chest whenever you think about him hasn't resolved itself yet, and you know it won't until you've well and truly put all of this behind you.  You miss him so much it hurts; his company, the way he makes you laugh, his touch.  

God, his touch.  Would it to be too much to hope for that Yoongi and you could make up the same way you and Jimin did last night?  You grab your phone from last night’s hastily discarded pants, deciding it'd be wise to get Jimin’s permission just in case something does happen.  Premature, maybe, but you’d rather ask and nothing happen than risk another sore bottom.  

'You should've woken me up before you left daddy, I missed you ♡ I’m going to my piano lesson soon.'

You hesitate, chewing your lip and staring at the screen.  How the hell do you even go about phrasing this?  You type several different version of the same question and then delete them one after one, sighing, and then finally send the message as it is, hoping that Jimin might get the hint just from you mentioning it.  

It doesn't take you long to shower and by the time you get out the light on your phone is blinking, a message waiting.

'Didn't want to disturb you.  Will Yoongi- hyung be teaching you anything else this week?'

You blush down at your phone, smiling shyly as you tap out your reply.  Thank God Jimin knows you well enough to realise you wouldn't have mentioned it without an ulterior motive.  

'Do I still have that much more to learn?  Would it be ok if he did?'

You dry your hair in front of the mirror, wrapped in one of Jimin’s fluffy towels as you eagerly await his reply, trying not to feel too nervous.  You can't imagine he'd say no, not when you've properly asked permission.  That was the rule, after all.  

'As long as you show me what you learn afterwards, kitten.  Good girl for asking.  A please wouldn't have gone amiss, though.  Do we need to work to improve your manners? ;)'

Once again Jimin has you blushing, although not just from his simultaneous praise and threat of correction.  Just the possibility of being intimate with Yoongi again has your breath quickening at the thought of it, your cheeks and chest flushed.

You really can't think of an adequate reply to that message, so for now your choose to ignore it, focusing on applying a light coverage of makeup in the mirror instead.  Even though you didn't text him back, you notice your phone flashing again only a couple of minutes later.  

'His favourite colour's black - why don't you wear that satin set I bought you and send daddy a picture, too?'

This… is crossing into new levels of bizarre.  Permission is one thing, but to have your boyfriend give you advice on what sort of underwear his friend would like best is just… well, you don't even know.  Still, maybe you should be thankful for it.  You certainly won't be plagued by guilt anymore, anyway.  

Taking Jimin’s suggestion you slip into the black satin bra and pantie set stashed away in your drawers, smiling as you catch sight of Jungkook's bandana hiding between your various articles of lingerie.  The poor boy would probably die of embarrassment if he knew that’s where you were keeping it, and you make a mental note to subtly return it to him as soon as possible as you set about the task of taking a picture of yourself for Jimin.  

How difficult can it be to take an underwear shot?  Very difficult, apparently.  Your own insecurities mean you end up taking one after another, never quite happy with how they turn out, and Nova constantly walking into the frame does nothing to help.  Aware of time ticking on you finally settle for one that looks at least passable, sighing and shrugging as you hit send and then rushing to get dressed in a black, floaty off-the-shoulder top and long black skirt.  By the time you're done and walking towards Yoongi’s room Jimin has already replied.  

'You look good enough to eat, kitten.  Can't wait to come home and show you how beautiful you are.  Work hard.  Have fun ♡'

Your heart skips happily as you smile down at your phone, quickly typing out a reply telling him to stay safe and that you love him.  

You're just coming into the entrance hall when you look up from your phone, your eyebrows rising when you spot Hoseok stood in front of the grand, gilded mirror that adorns one wall.  He's messing with hair and frowning hard at his reflection, trying to get one unruly piece to stay down and not having much luck to speak of.  

“Off somewhere nice?” you ask as you approach him, laughing when he jumps and spins on the spot to face you, his mouth forming a small, shocked ‘o’.   He relaxes only marginally when he sees you stood behind him, still messing with that wayward piece of hair in vain.

“Yeah… I… uh… I've got a date,” Hobi tells you nervously, his eyes darting off to the side for a second before looking back, obviously trying to assess your reaction.  

“With Sam?”  He nods slowly, but not before you note him swallow.  He probably thinks you're going to start hitting him again.

Instead, you throw your arms around his shoulders in an enthusiastic hug that he doesn't expect, stumbling slightly when he's hit with your body weight.

“Aww Hobi, well done!”  Now that he knows he's not being assaulted, Hoseok’s arms circle around you too, giving you a brief, friendly squeeze.  You pull away, hands still resting on the shoulders of his jacket.  “Told you she'd like you.”  He grins shyly, scratching the side of his neck, clearly suffering with some pre-date jitters.  “Where’re you taking her?”

“There’s a new cocktail bar I thought she might like…”

“She'll love that,” you smile, and Hobi's whole face brightens at your approval.  The collar and lapels of his jacket aren't quite straight so you start to fix them for him, smoothing them down as you throw in some helpful tips.  “Her favourite’s a ‘Bramble’... it's gin, blackberries... God knows what else.”

“Bramble.  Got it.”

“Can you dance?”  Hobi gives you a look that screams ‘bitch, please’, and it instantly makes you laugh on seeing it.  “Good, show her your moves. She loves a guy that can dance.”  You pat his jacket once more and then step back, feeling like a proud mama seeing off her boy on his first date.  He looks really good tonight; shoulders broadened by the slim fit of his jacket, waist extra trim in tight pants that leave very little to the imagination.  Sam’s going to eat him alive.  

“Oh!  And she's obsessed with Maroon 5.  Act like Adam Levine is the hottest guy you've ever seen and she'll be putty in your hands.”  Hobi tilts his head, smiling widely at you as he narrows his eyes.

“I love you, you know that right?” he tells you, reaching out and pinching your cheek that's quickly began to blush.

“Only cus I'm helping you score,” you scoff, batting his hand away with a roll of your eyes.  “But don't let her take you home tonight though, ok?  Keep her wanting more.”  He feigns insult, pressing his hand to his chest and widening his mouth and eyes.  

“What kind of girl do you take me for?”

“You don't want me to answer that,” you grin slyly and Hoseok just laughs, dropping the act with a shake of his head.  

“Ok, ok, all advice duly noted.”  He checks his watch and pulls a face, turning to the mirror to check his reflection one last time.  “I better go, don't wanna be late.”  

“Have fun,” you say with a wave, and as he reaches the door you point your finger at him, raising an eyebrow.  “Keep your hands, and your teeth, to yourself, Jung Hoseok.”  

“Yes mom,” he grins cheekily, and with that he's gone, pulling the front door shut behind you as you roll your eyes.  Cheeky he might be, but you trust Hobi enough to know he'll be on his best behaviour.  Behind all that roguish energy is a sweet, kind person - you're certain of it.  

As soon as he's gone you head briskly towards Yoongi's room, aware that you're now even later than before.  You hope he hasn't been waiting too long, or worse, presumed you aren't coming and gone off somewhere else.  Then again, you're not sure Yoongi ever goes anywhere to speak of anyway.  

Thankfully, when you get to his door - it's ajar, and you smile - you can hear music coming from inside already.  You enter eagerly, your smile growing when you see Yoongi sat at the piano, playing beautifully, as always.  He looks gorgeous in a long-sleeved, loose fitting white t-shirt and tight black jeans, his slightly shaggy hair falling in front as his face as he turns it downward, absorbed in the melody.  

As you close the door behind you, though, Yoongi immediately looks up, his fingers stilling on the keys.  

“I was starting to think you weren’t coming,” he says as you approach, and you can tell by his deadpan expression that he's really not joking.

“Sorry… I overslept a little,” you explain sheepishly, taking your usual seat next to him on the piano stool once he slowly shifts across to make room.  Yoongi just looks at you once you're sat, his facial expression still not shifting, stoic and silent to the point where it starts making you feel a little uncomfortable.

“You look paler than I am.”

“Oh… yeah.”  You huff a little laugh of embarrassment, your cheeks flushing, not realising you're fingering your collar until you see Yoongi's sharp eyes look that way.  He puts two and two together, quickly realising exactly why you look quite so drained and sickly today.  

“You shouldn't let him take so much,” Yoongi tells you, his voice initially coming out so harsh that it makes you cringe.  Recognising the way his words made your body tense his next are uttered much softer, delivered with a soft tucking of hair behind your ear.  “Your health shouldn’t suffer for his.”  You try to lean into him but the touch doesn’t last long enough, his hand lowering to rest on the stool by his side.

“I’ll be fine in a day or so,” you reassure him but Yoongi just ‘hmms’ in response, his mouth set in a straight line as he looks away and down at the piano keys.  A silence falls between the two of you, but with every thud of your pulse in your ears you can feel your longing to touch him grow, the ache so strong that it’s making your stomach hurt.   “About what I said the other night…” you begin, just wanting to get it out of the way, clear the air, but before you can say anymore Yoongi interrupts you.  

“Can we just play, first?”  You blink, caught off balance for a moment by his mumbled request but then agreeing with a shrug, trying not to sigh aloud.  

“Sure.”  Yoongi starts to rearrange the sheet music in front of you, bringing to the front something you’ve never seen before.  It has a simple enough looking melody, for the most part, getting progressively more complex as the piece goes on.  You play the first couple of notes, prodding softly at the piano keys as you concentrate hard on the papers in front of you, but when you move to add your left hand Yoongi stops you with a gentle touch of your knuckles.  

“Concentrate on the melody first.  I’ll do the rest.”  You nod, removing your fingers from the ivories and trying to ignore the way your skin is tingling from just that slightest of touches.  

Slowly, the two of you start to play.  It’s a little disjointed to begin with, but then it always is when you’re first getting to know the particularities of a new piece.  It always takes awhile to get the rhythm right - for you, anyway.  Yoongi seems to know this song back to front, his graceful fingers moving with practised ease.  Though you’d never expect anything different from him; he always seems to make it look effortless, even when he tells you he’s never played a piece before.  Practice makes perfect, though apparently not for him.

You’d initially felt a little put out that Yoongi had insisted you play before discussing the issues between you, but now that you’re doing it you can kind of see why he did.  Concentrating on the music means you’re distracted from your anxiety, unable to overthink or panic about what you’re going to say, and in doing so your mind relaxes, your body following soon after, all tension leaving you.  It seems to be soothing Yoongi too; his jaw no longer so tight, the lines of stress that were written on his face beginning to smooth out.  It’s like the synchronicity of the two of you playing together is bringing you back into balance, restoring the harmony you always used to feel in his presence.  

When the piece comes to an end Yoongi’s the first to turn, swivelling on the stool to face you.  

“I expected that to be worse,” he says, the corner of his mouth twitching into a smile.

“So did I,” you admit, smiling shyly back.  Honestly, you really did.  Maybe your muscle memory is better than you thought - or maybe fate’s just cutting you a break.  Another little silence falls but this one feels more comfortable than the last, and you use it just to study the thoughtful look on Yoongi’s face, thinking to yourself how glad you are just to be sat here with him.  “I missed you,” you confess again, whispered softly.  Your hand moves unconsciously shifts across the piano stool, just a little bit closer to his, fingertips almost touching but not quite.   

Yoongi considers you for a while, quiet and contemplative, before sighing your name, shaking his head and then uttering something you hadn’t even dared to hope for.  

“However much you might’ve missed me… I’ve missed you so damn much more.”   He makes a grab for your hand, linking your fingers together and then using that grasp to pull you into him, wrapping you up in his arms and holding you tightly against him, like he’s afraid you might slip away.  You nestle your head in the crook of his neck, inhaling the familiar smell of him that you’ve missed so much, smiling into him when you feel his nose in your hair, his lips pressing over and over again to the top of your head.  

“I know I’m a hypocrite. I know I don’t have a right to feel jealous… and you and Jimin will do what you want to do anyway.  Just… don’t rub it in my face, ok?”  Yoongi Isn't usually a man of so many words, so you give him the good graces of listening intently, letting him get it all out and noticing a hint of sadness in his eyes that he’s failing to hide as he speaks, your stomach clench unpleasantly in response to it.  “I’ve thought a lot about it… and I still don’t know how to do this,” he sighs, tightening his hold on you, “But I can’t keep away from you, gongjunim.  I thought I could, but look at me.  The second I see you I just…”  Yoongi trails off, letting you go just enough to look down into your eyes.  His own are so full of doubt that it breaks your heart.  You smile sadly at him, leaning in to rest your cheek against his as you loop your arms around his shoulders, stroking the back of his hair soothingly.  

“I didn’t mean to make you feel like… like this is just some sort of game.  It’s not like that, ok?”  Briefly pressing the tip of your nose against his you hear Yoongi’s sharp intake of breath and note the way his eyes flick down to look at your lips, swallowing in excited anticipation.  “Yoongi…”  His name comes out as a whisper, your voice becoming husky as his hands slip from your waist to travel upwards,  cupping your face in his hands.  “You’re always so sweet to me.  So good and sweet and soft, even when you’re pretending like you’re not.”  Your words are coming out in a rush now, your eyes closed, the feel of Yoongi’s breath brushing across your lips.  “You’re talented and you’re beautiful, even when you think you’re not those things either… and the way I feel when I’m with you - I just-”

“Don’t,” Yoongi interrupts again, his voice breaking as he speaks, thumbs rubbing at your cheeks, your heart pounding through your chest so hard that he can feel it too.  “Don’t say these things to me if you don’t mean them, gongjunim. ”  You open up your eyes and all the breath leaves your lungs when you see how close his face is to yours, hoping that the sincerity of your gaze will make him see just how much truth there is to the words you’ve said.  

“I mean them.”  That’s it, then.  You see Yoongi’s eyes look back and forth between the two of yours, and then he’s pulling your face to his and kissing you with a desperation the like of which you’ve never felt before.  His tongue plunges into your mouth almost the moment your lips meet, his hands slipping from your face and grabbing at your body instead; your upper arms, your waist, your hips, kissing you so hard that you’re almost pushed backwards from the force of it, in danger of falling off the stool until he scoops you up and sits you directly on the piano keys.  The sound is jarring, the stool hitting the floor with a thud behind him as Yoongi knocks it over in his haste to stand between your legs.  

Yoongi’s hold on your hips is bruising, the top of the piano digging into your back as he leans over you, your hands in his hair.  The sound of your helpless moans are consumed by his mouth, growing more needful as you feel his erection pressing at your stomach through his jeans, and you give yourself a mental pat on the back for having the foresight to gain Jimin’s permission for this in advance.  Being guilt-free just makes you all the more bold, grabbing a hold of Yoongi’s belt and starting to hastily undo it, not allowing your kiss to break until he suddenly steps back, panting.  

“What’s wrong?” you ask breathlessly, confused by the frown he’s wearing, sliding off the piano keys as soon as Yoongi’s weight is no longer holding you there.  He wipes his mouth with his thumb, looking away from your for a moment as his chest heaves and then looking back, dark eyes roving over your body from bottom to top.

“Nothing, nothing.”  Yoongi pauses, letting himself calm for a moment before stepping towards you again.  Some of the desire has left his expression, a softer, more concerned look taking its place when he sees the worry on your face.  “I just… I want you.  Shit, I really do,” he huffs, smiling almost a little bitterly as he runs his knuckles along your cheek, “But I need a little more time… just to get my head around all this.”   

Your stomach takes an unpleasant turn when you hear him say that, petrified that it means more time apart, more distance between the two of you again, reflexively taking hold of the front of his shirt like that’ll somehow keep him there for good.  Seeing your panic Yoongi quickly pulls you into his arms, holding you close and pressing his face to your hair.  

“Not like before, gongjunim, ” he reassures softly, kissing your forehead when you turn your face upward to look at him and smiling as he rests his against yours.  “Believe me, I’m never putting either of us through that again.”  

“Good.”  You manage a smile back, loosening your grip of his shirt but still not letting go just yet, not until Yoongi’s kissed you again.  He’s tender this time, his kiss unhurried but still just as deep, and it leaves you reeling just as much when he pulls away.  

“I hope you didn’t break anything,” Yoongi comments as he finally lets you go, stepping back to pick up the stool from where it’s toppled on its side, “That piano was expensive.”  You lift your eyebrows at him, scoffing at his sudden cheek.  

“I think you’ll find it’s you that keeps throwing me onto the thing, Yoongi,” you point out, pleased at the grin that spreads across his face.  He sits, pressing experimentally at the keys and nodding, pleased when they all still seem to be working.  As you sit next to him you suddenly become very aware of how damp your underwear is, sticking to you as your bottom meets the seat, and shifting uncomfortably your murmur, “Not that you ever follow through, mind you.”

All of a sudden Yoongi’s grabbing hold of your chin, yanking your head round to face him, his eyes narrowed and his lips twisted into smirk that’s so dangerous and sexy that is has you biting your lip again just seeing it.  

“When I do, gongjunim, no-one will be able to hear the piano over the sound of your screaming anyway, I promise you that.”  

Chapter Text

Almost a week passes by, and life has been pleasant if a little predictable. Jimin continues to be absent almost every other night, always with one of the others in tow, and now that they're getting regularly fed the vampires seem even more spirited than they did before. This seems especially true of Tae and Hobi, who regularly look as though they're going to start bouncing off the walls these days. 

You're not sure what Tae’s excuse is for all the extra smiles and energy, save a full stomach, but you presume Hoseok's must be partly linked to his and Sam’s first date having gone very well. She'd texted you gushing all about it the very next day, and when you'd winked at Hobi later that evening he'd turned decidedly coy about the whole thing. Not that you needed details from him - you got enough of those from Sam's end, particularly regarding her immense frustration at Hobi insisting on being the most perfect of gentlemen, kissing her at her door and nothing more.  Oh, you were so proud.

Just lately though, you haven’t been able to help yourself wondering about how there are any people in the city left at all, considering how often Jimin is out of the house. When you’d passed comment on this one night, querying just how many mob bosses there could be to possibly to keep him quite so busy, Jimin had just laughed, shaking his head at your naivety.

Their assignments weren’t always bloodbaths, he’d explained, sometimes they’d be doing reconnaissance work or acting as hired muscle,l accompanying a variety of shady people to various shady places. You'd giggled at the idea of Jimin as a bodyguard - he doesn't exactly have the build or figure for it - but then maybe that's a good thing. No one would ever guess at first glance that he possesses the strength that he does, so perhaps that gives him an edge. Still, it was nice to discover he isn't always out on a murderous rampage, and it helps you sleep a little easier knowing his life isn't constantly on the line whenever he's not at home.

Intimacy is still something that’s lacking between you and Yoongi ever since your argument, but thankfully everything else has returned to the way it was before. He's affectionate and tactile, happy and smiling again when you're around, and yet despite all of Yoongi’s behaviour telling you he's long gotten over what happened, he nonetheless seems in no rush to sleep with you again. Part of you wonders if he's doing it on purpose, trying to suss out whether you really meant those sweet things you said before; dragging things out to make you prove that he really does mean more to you than just a fumble between the sheets.

If that's what it takes to prove how you feel, then you're more than happy to wait and endure the way even Yoongi’s lightest of touches leave you yearning for more, certain that his mind will change again soon enough. You're fairly sure he was starting to crack during the lesson you just had; Yoongi’s hands kept lingering a little too long on your waist, a constant, glossy sheen gracing his lips from how often he kept licking them in your company. Even the kiss you’d just shared had screamed of poorly repressed desire. Yoongi had had both hands in your hair as he’d pressed your body against the doorway with his own, kissing you like for the very last time, and only stopped when you started to grab at his t-shirt, clearly wanting more. He’s being a god-damn tease, and at this rate you’re not sure how you’ll ever be ever to hold out.

Still, you manage to. After having left his room you go back to Jimin’s, grumbling your way down the entire corridor, and then get changed into some comfortable clothes more suited to manual labour. Thankfully Jimin has relented lately on the dresses and skirts only rule, encouraging you to order some clothes more suited to your usual style once he’d seen how cute you look in his sweats and shorts. You’d also ended up ordering some gardening paraphernalia too - pruning shears and forks, hedge cutters and hard-wearing gloves - and it’s those things you’re loaded down with as you use your foot to pry open Jimin’s door, trying not to drop anything on the one foot that’s still planted on the ground.

That all goes to hell when the door swings open and you look up, only to see Namjoon stood practically right outside. You jump, startled, dropping almost everything in your hands with a frustrated cry and then rushing to pick them all up again, your heart thumping with the surge of adrenaline it just received.

“Sorry,” Namjoon sputters, uncharacteristically caught off guard after being similarly surprised, just standing there and watching you struggle rather than actually bending to help. You gather everything in your arms and then straighten up again, an embarrassed smile on your face and matching blush on your cheeks, aware of how much of a klutz you must look to the usually graceful Namjoon.

“No harm done,” you say breathily, shrugging your shoulders as your smile turns reassuring. Ever since the ‘Jimin-incident’ you’re no longer nearly so afraid of Namjoon. He doesn’t give off the same threatening air anymore, or carry the same malice in his eyes that he once did whenever he looked your way. That dark, seductive aura still seems to linger around him though, much to your confusion and dismay.

The tall vampire’s lips bend into a small smile, his head cocking to the side as he inspects all the equipment in your arms.

“What’re you up to?”

“Oh, these?” You look down at the things you’re carrying too then look up with an excited grin that makes Namjoon smile all the more. “I was going to make a start on the garden, thought I might be able to get it looking nice again… like it’s glory days.”

“You enjoy gardening?” he asks, lifting an eyebrow, and you chuckle softly, shaking your head.

“Not particularly,” you admit, “But I thought Nova would appreciate the chance to spend more time outside, and I could always use a new hobby.” Right on cue Nova comes wandering through the gap between your legs, ignoring yours and heading straight for Namjoon’s instead, rubbing up against him and mewing prettily. What is it with her and him?  He smiles indulgently down at her, bending to scratch her between the ears, and it’s then that you realise he’s got something tucked under his free arm.

“What were you doing anyway, loitering outside people’s doorways?” you ask teasingly, only realising too late that you’re a fine one to talk, given your past history with Namjoon when it comes to doing just that, blushing as soon as the words leave your mouth. His smile becomes a smirk as he stands tall again, a mischievous glint in his eyes.  That cockiness falters, though, when Namjoon reveals what he’d been carrying, pulling out a book which he then holds out towards you in both hands, now looking a little nervous and unsure.

“I got you this,” he explains, looking down at the book rather than your eyes, “I remembered you’d said you liked reading about dystopia… This is supposed to be one of the best, or at least I think it is. It's been awhile since I read it.” Realising that he’s rambling Namjoon abruptly stops speaking, lifting his head to look at you once more, his eyes slightly wider than usual.  The cover says ‘Brave New World’, and though it’s not one you’ve read before you do know it’s supposed to be one of the dystopian classics. You’d been wondering what to read next, actually, what with Namjoon having destroyed almost half the library during his fit of rage. Perhaps that’s why he’s bought it; to start rebuilding were once full shelves.

“I don’t know if you’ll like it,” he says, and you realise that he was waiting for you to speak, that nervous edge still lilting his voice, “I hope you do.”

“What’s brought this on?” you ask, cringing how unintentionally ungrateful you just sounded, “I mean - thank you, obviously - but it’s not my birthday, or christmas yet, as far as I’m aware.” Your arms are starting to ache from the weight of all the equipment in your arms, but you still manage to smile nonetheless. Namjoon chews his lip for a second before answering, and in the pause Nova meows again, flopping down at his feet to invite more attention.

“Just to… say thank you for before.” He shifts his weight from foot to foot, glancing down at Nova. “It really had been a long time since anyone showed me any concern and… I appreciated it. I do appreciate it.”

“Well… then I suppose you’re welcome,” you reply, starting to blush a little. You’d really never thought that you’d be having this kind of conversation with him, not in a million years, but here you are, having a civilised exchange with a practically gentlemanly Namjoon. What an odd turn of events this is. “I’ll look forward to starting it.” There’s an awkward moment where you just stand and look at each other, unable to take the book from his hands as you would do if you’re own weren’t already so full. Namjoon glances down to and then realises what the problem is, his eyes widening with embarrassment.

“Oh! Oh… I can just…” He gestures behind you towards Jimin’s room, stepping forward as you step aside so he can enter.

“Thanks,” you say, turning on the spot to watch him walk inside, his eyes scanning the room as soon as he crosses the threshold. “Just put it anywhere.” He walks towards the bed - god, why did you have to leave your lingerie from last night lying on there? - and places your gift on the bedside table, his gaze lingering on the lilac coloured neglige resting atop the duvet before he turns back to you. Namjoon puts a hand in his pocket, and you’re not sure if it’s your own embarrassment induced paranoia that makes you swear you see him adjust the crotch of his pants before he walks back over to you. “Thanks,” you repeat, trying not to blush even harder.

“Here, give me all that.” He extends his arms out towards you, taking your supplies before you have chance to argue. He makes it look ridiculously easy to carry it all, though knowing his natural advantage keeps you from feeling too bad about it. “I'll take it all this outside - you go fetch the others to give you a hand.” You lift your eyebrows at him, laughing a little as his suggestion.

“I'm not sure they're green-fingered sort…”

“They don't have to be, they'll follow your lead if you tell them I said they don't have a choice,” he tells you, a sternness that’s as hard as steel entering his expression and making you shiver involuntarily.

“I suppose it'd be nice to have some help… and some company,” you admit. There's only so far that your conversations with Nova go, after all.

“Go on then,” he encourages, and like the obliging girl you are you nod quickly, turning on your heel and scampering off down the hallway, Namjoon’s eyes on your back the whole way. You needn’t worry about Nova following you - you know she’ll be trailing outside after Namjoon like the lovesick kitty she is.

You’re unsurprised to find the rest of the group in the living room, sat in their usual spots doing their usual activities, and when you enter the room Jin looks up from the newspaper he’s reading with a smile, greeting you.

“You haven’t eaten yet, have you? Did you want me to make you something?” You pad over to where he’s sat, shaking your head and reassuring him that you're fine as you perch yourself on the arm of the sofa next to him, looking down over Taehyung’s shoulder to try and see what he’s doing. He's lying on his stomach on the rug again, an impressive looking camera in his hands, the photographs of which he's currently reviewing, flicking back and forth between them.

“Did you take those, Tae?” you ask curiously, and you can tell from the way he startles and cranes his head round to look at you, mouth hanging open, that he hadn't even realised you were here until now.

“Yeah, they're mine,” he replies enthusiastically, already rolling over to get up when he asks, “Wanna see?”

“Sure,” you smile, laughing when Taehyung walks over and plonks himself directly on Jin’s lap so that he can show you his work, the newspaper not standing a chance as crumples under his weight.

“Tae-ah!” Jin complains loudly, giving the younger boy a shove but then sighing resignedly when Tae refuses to budge, like a long suffering parent who's far too used to his children misbehaving.  Tae, meanwhile, is completely ignoring his elder to lean over your lap instead, camera in hand.

The pictures that he shows you are actually very well shot, much to your surprise. You'd expected Taehyung to have too short of an attention span to keep still long enough to even take a picture that's in focus, nevermind one that looks as good as the photographs he's showing you now. Clearly, you underestimated him.

“These are really good, Tae,” you praise enthusiastically, summoning that boxy grin of his as he beams with pride. Sure, most of them are indoor shots, or ones taken at dawn or dusk when he can risk that very mild exposure to the light, but they're still exceptionally well framed. The boy obviously has a good eye.  You hear Jungkook mumble something from the sofa opposite, his eyes fixed on the screen on his laptop as Taehyung slides off Jin’s lap to sit next to him, an incessant clicking coming from his fingers on the keypad and mouse.

“You say something Kookie?” you ask, tilting your head, and he looks up so sharply it's like he didn't even know he'd spoken out loud.

“Oh… I just…” He glances from you to Jin to Tae to you again, patting the top of his hair nervously, “I like photography too. Film making and… stuff.”

“That's cool,” you smile, and Jungkook smiles shyly in reply. You're about to broach the subject of the garden when he speaks again.

“I can show you sometime, if you want.”  Honestly, you don’t get how Jungkook can switch from being such a cute little bunny to a cocky little shit whenever the mood suits him. It makes you wonder what he'd be like to hang out with if you ever got past that crippling awkwardness of his.

“That’d be nice.” His lips twitch into a smile again and then he looks away, becoming absorbed once more in his game. “So… I have a favour to ask,” you announce to the three of them before you lose their attention completely.

“What is it?” Jin asks curiously.

“I'm going to start re-landscaping the garden, and I was wondering if you guys would give me a hand?”

“Wait,” Tae pipes up, switching off his camera and putting it down, “We have a garden?” You see Jungkook roll his eyes out of the corner of yours.

“Yeah,” you laugh, as amused as always by Taehyung’s incessantly oblivious nature. How could he live in one place for so long and not even know they have a garden? Then again, it's not like they'd be throwing outdoor summer barbeques or anything else of the like. “It’s right outside Jimin’s room… have you guys never been out there before?”

“Nope,” Jungkook answers briefly, not bothering to look up.

“I have, once or twice after we first moved in,” Jin adds, nodding once, “But it was a bit depressing.”

“Exactly, that’s why I want your help.” There’s a moment of silence where you can see Jin and Taehyung mulling it over, and whilst the elder of the vampires almost instantly nods his head in agreement you can see the other visibly hesitate.

“I’m not sure it’s really our sort of thing…” Taehyung says finally, prodding at the inside of his mouth with his tongue and glancing at Jungkook, presumably for back up.

“Yeah I think I might pass,” Jungkook says, briefly looking up and adding a ‘sorry’ that it doesn’t really sound like he means. See, this is why you weren’t going to ask in the first place.  Although Tae and Kookie’s combined ages reaches nearly a hundred they certainly don’t act like men who might enjoy such slow and gentle pastimes, so you knew it your heart of hearts that it’d be a fruitless ask.  Still, Namjoon did say you could throw his name around if you so wished. Maybe it’s not such a bad idea? You pause, curling your tongue inside your mouth as you try to find the right words to say without it sounding too much like ‘Namjoon says so’.

“Namjoon was pretty keen on you guys helping me…” you say experimentally, watching for any observable reaction to your words. Jungkook looks up, a slight frown gracing his far-too-handsome face.

“Since when have you been all pally-pally with hyung?” he asks curiously, his eyes narrowing at you across the room. A quick glance in Taehyung’s direction sees him looking oddly at you too, his head tilted to the side, blonde hair falling into his eyes.  You should’ve known that they’d find any supposed alliance between you and Namjoon strange. The last encounter they witnessed between the two of you saw him knocking you halfway across the room, and that’s without even mentioning Taehyung’s extra insight into the disturbing nuances of yours and Namjoon’s interactions to date.

“Look,” you huff, trying to avoid the question and standing up from the arm of the sofa brusquely and placing a hand on your hip, “Are you going to help me or not?” Jin stands next to you, brushing off the seat of his pants as he does.

“We better had do if Namjoon-ah said so…” Taehyung gets up soon after, following Jin’s lead with a resigned nod of his head, and when Jungkook realises he’s being outnumbered he snaps shut the lid of his laptop with a decidedly bratty sounding sigh, shoving it off his lap and onto the sofa next to him.

“Lead the way then,” he says, almost a little condescendingly, and you can’t help but raise your eyebrows at him. Here’s the cocky little shit you were thinking about earlier - god, what you wouldn’t give to smack him, just once, right in his pretty mouth.  Why can’t your feelings about these boys ever be straightforward? You’re already conflicted enough about the rest of them, nevermind trying to keep up with your conflicting urges to both cuddle Jungkook when he’s sweet and shy, and then simultaneously squeeze the life out of him whenever he’s giving you lip.  “I get why Jimin and Hobi-hyung aren’t here, but how come Yoongi-hyung gets out of it?” Jungkook grumbles as the four of you leave the living room and you roll your eyes in response, sighing as he continues to bitch.

“If it bothers you that much Jungkook I’ll go fetch him, alright?” The youngest gives you a self-satisfied, shit-eating-grin, doing nothing to quell your desire to pop him one.

You go off to the left as they turn right, calling after Jin to tell him just to get started without you and to keep an eye out for Nova when they get out there. You hope she hasn’t gone wandering off… you’d never find her in the darkness, being black as pitch as she is.

You’re too irritated and flustered to remember about bothering to knock when you get to Yoongi’s door, too eager to fetch him and just get started on the task at hand. You barely even register that his door is shut tight before you push it straight open, no thought given as to why he might’ve closed it in the first place. That’s why when Yoongi’s door abruptly swings open you’re met with a scene that’s entirely unexpected, a sight that has you gasping aloud, your grip tightening around the cold metal of the door handle.

Yoongi’s lying on his bed, propped up on one elbow with his head thrown back and his eyes closed, still fully dressed save the waistband of his sweats circling his slender thighs. He’s lost to anything that exists beyond whatever he’s imagining behind his eyelids, his hand wrapped around his cock, tugging it with firm, rough strokes that make his hips flex up from the bed with each and every movement. He’ll bite his lip now and then, silent apart from the soft, breathy sounds that escape when he rubs his palm over the head, pausing to thumb the slit.

It’s the hottest thing you’ve ever seen, or at least, you certainly think it is before you push the door shut behind you and Yoongi’s eyes snap open, his head lifting but every other part of his body freezing in panic. You take just half a step forward, biting your lip as you realise your state of breathlessness, your eyes stretched open in an attempt to absorb every little detail of what you’re seeing.

“Don’t stop.” You don’t recognise your own voice when you speak, as husky and laden with lust as it is. You hadn’t even planned on saying the words before they tumble out, so deprived of intimacy with Yoongi that’ll take anything you can get, even if it means watching him pleasure himself whilst receiving nothing yourself.  The straight line of Yoongi’s mouth quirks upward at the corners, twisting into a delicious smirk that has all your pelvic muscles clenching when it’s accompanied by the sultry, come hither look that gather in his eyes. He lets himself sink back into the mattress as his hand starts to move once more, eyelids closing, all the tension that had entered into his muscles on your arrival melting away again just as quickly.

You greedily devour every subtle moment Yoongi makes, each shudder of his chest, every shift of his hips as they chase after each upward stroke from those perfect, veiny hands. It's with bated breath that you watch his second hand slither it's way down his stomach to join the other, wrapping both palms around himself for just one excruciatingly slow, teasing stroke and no more, soon abandoning his cock in favour of cupping and rolling his balls as he recommences that earlier punishing pace. Both hands work in tandem, and Yoongi's clearly well practised in the art of self-pleasure, widening his legs to slip that second hand either further down, somewhere below his balls, and god, you feel like you're going to cum just from watching him.  You can only imagine what he's touching now, the secret places he's stroking, but just the thought has you whimpering aloud, arousal smearing on your thighs as you take another involuntarily step closer to the body you so long to touch.

“Yoongi,” you call desperately, needily, knowing that you were wrong before. This. This is the hottest thing you've ever seen. He tilts his head to the side, eyes flopping open lazily to look at you past heavy lids, not stopping the movement of his hands for even a second.

“D-dont,” he groans, calling a halt to your slow approach with that one single stuttered word. “Daddy’s permission first... remember?” Yoongi's struggling to get his words out past his heavy breaths, but even so you feel like he's purposefully bringing up Jimin's rules to taunt you, to bring his level of teasing to new, dizzying heights. A grunt escapes past his red, swollen lips as he fists himself even harder than before, grip so tight that his knuckles are going white. “God, I wish you could bring that tight little pussy over here.”

This is it, this is how you're going to die. You're going to die by Yoongi's vicious, beguiling tongue, reduced to a molten puddle of arousal right here on his bedroom floor. You’d ask God for mercy, but at this point you're pretty sure even he will have averted his all-seeing eyes.

“What if I did... T-then what?” you ask haltingly, cursing yourself as soon as the words pass your lips. You must be suicidal, or a glutton for punishment at the very least.

“I’d fuck you so-so hard, princess, stuff my cock in so deep,” Yoongi stutters, head turning your way again, desire blazing in his eyes, “Make you feel so good… fuck you till you're screaming… screaming m-my name so they can all hear… all hear me make you mine.”  Your heart had already been bounding in your chest, but on hearing Yoongi’s stilted drawl, on seeing the possessive look on his face, something else stirs inside you.

“You wanna mark me up, Yoongi?” you ask softly, speaking with a braveness you never knew you possessed as you clench your thighs together at his responding groan. “Wanna show everyone where you've been?”

“Fuck, yes,” he grunts, his usually deep voice wrecked, breaking as he speaks.

“Wish you could, Yoongi,” you half whisper-half whimper, playing him at his own game as you run your fingers across your collarbone, gently stroking the curve of your neck as you tilt your head to the side.  The way his face contorts in pleasure when you say his name... You feel like repeated it over and over just to see what'll happen.  “Wish you could put your lips on me... your tongue...” You pause, unsure you should say the words that rest of the tip of your tongue but unable to hold them back when you see the desperation in Yoongi’s eyes. “Your fangs... God, Yoongi, I wanna feel your bite too… right here.” You drag your fingertip along your jugular, arousal and fear gripping you in equal measure at the feral snarl that rips from his throat.

“Shit, gongjunim, don't tempt me.” It's with great effort that you see him wrench his eyes away from your the throbbing of your pulse in your neck, throwing his head back into the pillow again as his features contort in a mixture of pleasure and pain. “Don't, don't, I can't… you have no… god, I want-”

All to soon, Yoongi's incoherency soon gives way to a series of grunts and moans, his hips stuttering, hand stilling as his stomach muscles contract and his whole body tenses. Your name pours from him like a prayer as his cock starts to pulse, cum oozing from him in hot, thick spurts just a moment after, pushed over the edge by the thought of your blood slipping down his throat like liquid paradise.

Embarrasingly enough, Yoongi manages to collect himself far quicker than you do, his pants ceasing long before yours.  Your mind is still reeling, mouth hanging open when he casually wipes his hand on the sheets next to him, looking at you with a bemused smile. He pulls his sweats up like nothing happened when he stands, snapping them back into place.

“You needed something, gongjunim?”

Chapter Text

You half expect Yoongi to be just messing around, convinced that at any moment he’ll take pity on you and drag you back to bed with him to ‘return the favour’ as he’s done once before, but much to your disappointment that expectation proves to be totally and utterly wrong.  

He disappears into the bathroom for a moment or two, giving you precious seconds to try and collect yourself as he presumably cleans himself up, but when he comes back he continues to act like the last five minutes never even happened.  You struggle to remember why you even came to his room in the first place, tripping over your words as you request his assistance with blushing cheeks, and when Yoongi asks if there’s anything else you'd like his help with, slinking towards you with a sly smile, you know he really is just messing with you for the fun of it.  Did he plan all of this? Did he want you to find him like that, lost in self-pleasure?  

You shake your head, no, no thank you, and try not to whimper when he presses his fingers to your hip - the ones that just a moment ago were so busily wrapped around the length of him.  He just smiles knowingly and then takes your hand with a gentle kiss to your cheek, apparently satisfied that you've suffered enough.  

“And you managed to convince Jungkook -ah to help?” Yoongi queries as the two of you leave his room, heading towards the entrance hall.  “I'm impressed.”  

“Oh he'll be quietly bitching the whole time we're out there, make no mistake.”  

“I don't doubt it.  It'll do the boy good to get out of the virtual world once in awhile, anyway.  Get some fresh air.”  You squeeze Yoongi's hand with a playful smile, knocking your shoulder into his.  

“Bit rich coming from you, isn't it?” you tease and Yoongi just narrows his eyes at you, a hint of a smile playing on his lips.  

“Shut up.”  It's at that moment that the two of you come to the glass doors by Jimin’s room that lead outside.  You make towards them, free hand extending out to open them up, but before you can Yoongi gently pulls you back.  “I wouldn't go out there yet,” he advises you, murmuring the words conspirituality against the top of your head.  

“Why?” you ask, confused, tilting your face up to look at him and noting the way that smirk of his is threatening to return.  He lifts your joined hands to his lips and starts to press soft, teasing kisses along your knuckles, his gaze becoming heated when even this most innocent of gestures has your breath starting to quicken again.  

“Because,” he rasps, leaning down to speak directly into your ear, “You smell like a bitch in heat.”  

His words make you gasp, another pulse of arousal that Yoongi’s responsible for making your pelvic muscles clench and contract around nothing.  

“It's your fault,” you accuse huskily, shuddering when you feel his mouth on your neck.  Suddenly your earlier desire to feel his bite seems all too close to coming to fruition, his fangs gliding across your delicate, paper-thin skin to tempt and torture you both.  

You're not sure when this overwhelming desire to have Yoongi feed from you first reared its head - probably around the same time that you realised you were starting to fall hopelessly in love with him too.  Shit, what a mess you're getting yourself into.  

“I know,” he chuckles darkly, tucking his teeth away behind his smile before he does something you'll both regret.  “So go take those soaked panties off and change, before anyone starts thinking they can touch what's mine.”  

“Yours?” you question, lifting an eyebrow at him as he pulls away.  Yoongi's expression twists into something dark and possessive as he suddenly reaches out, pushing his hand between your legs to harshly cup your mound through your sweats.  He must be able to feel the dampness of the material, the warmth lingering there as he rubs his hand back and forth, your legs weakening at his touch.  

“I did this, didn't I?  All this wetness?  It's mine, for me, no one else,” he growls and you find yourself nodding helplessly, biting your lip so hard that you start to taste copper on your tongue. “Good.”  

Yoongi lets go, features relaxing into neutral and then turning strangely soft again as he thumbs your cheek.  You're going to get whiplash at this rate - you can't keep up with all the different emotions and urges he's making you feel.  

“Go on then, gongjunim .  Don't be long.”

And then he's gone, turning round and heading outside with another word and leaving you gawping in his wake.

What the hell is going on?  You waddle your way into Jimin’s room, wetness slicking down your thighs, trying to figure out what on earth just happened as you change.  You'd thought your fall out from before would make Yoongi less possessive of you, not more, but now it seems as though he's making sure to grab and claim whatever he can, whenever he can, owning you entirely for the short periods of time he's allowed.

Honestly?  You sort of like it.  He did say that he didn't really know how to do this - maybe he's decided that this is the best way to cope with things… taken a leaf out of Jimin’s book?

Sighing and shaking your head as you make your way back out the bedroom, you resign yourself to giving up trying to figure out Yoongi's thoughts and motivations.  As long as he's happy and Jimin's happy and you're happy too, that's the most important thing.  

You're pleasantly surprised by the amount of progress the guys have made by the time you join them, from what you can make out in the dark.  They might be a little unwilling, but hey at least they’re still effective, right?

In retrospect, you really hadn't given enough thought to the issues that were going to face trying to garden in the dead of night - just the increase in insect activity makes the idea of it unpleasant alone.  You could at least do with a little bit of daylight to properly make out what you're doing.  You'll have to focus on the part of the garden that's still illuminated by the house for now, until you can sort out some other means of lighting.  

“We’ve just been trying to clear the dead plants and weeds,” Jin tells you when he notices your arrival, walking over and gesturing to the pile of limp greenery forming in the middle of the lawn.

Taehyung’s got the hedge clippers and is snipping away at the overgrown bushes, Yoongi collecting the severed leaves and branches as he goes along, adding them to the pile.  

“Looks good,” you say enthusiastically, your smile turning apologetic after a moment.  “Sorry, I hadn't thought about how difficult it'd be to do this in the dark.”  

“That's not really an issue for us,” Jin chuckles, smiling kindly, “I can see you just as well in the dark as I can in the light.”  

“Oh! Oh, well that’s handy then.”  

You jump at the sounds of roots being ripped out of the ground, looking around into the darkness to try and find the source of the sound, your eyes wide.  A few seconds later Jungkook emerges out the dark carrying a massive, dead bush that consists of nothing but gnarled roots and branches.  

Apparently there's perks to having vampiric strength on hand whilst you're gardening too.  

“Show off,” Yoongi comments dryly as Jungkook drops the bush on the pile, smiling proudly.  God damn it, how is he so infuriatingly adorable all the time?

You pull on the nearest pair of gardening gloves, ready to get down to work, and when you kneel down next to the nearest flower bed you're relieved to see Nova sat underneath the undergrowth, gently cleaning her paws.  

“Surprised you didn't just run off with Joonie,” you murmur at her as you start to pull weeds from the soil.  She just stares innocently back at you with those wide, glassy eyes of hers.  Jin kneels down beside you, joining your efforts with a contented sigh.  “Thanks for doing this Jin, I really appreciate it.”  

“No worries,” he smiles, pulling out clumps of wayward grass and throwing them behind him onto the pile.  “We’ll have this place cleaned up in no time.”  

 

Jin was right about it it not taking much time at all.  With the combined man-power of four supernatural beings and little old you, the garden has been almost completely cleared of debris and unwanted foliage within a couple of hours.  All that remains is for you to figure out what to do now with all the open space you've been given.  You know you definitely want a climbing plant to replace whatever ugly thing had previously marred the archway trellis… but that's about as far as your forward planning has gotten.  A couple of benches might be nice, too, or maybe a little swinging seat?  The possibilities are endless, really.  

You don't bother to bore the others with all those thoughts.  By the time you're done they all look fairly wiped out, with dirty fingernails and sweat-stained shirts.  The group makes plans to meet up in Jungkook's room once you've all gotten cleaned up - Taehyung’s adamant that the youngest’s gaming system is something worth cramming so many bodies into such a small room for - parting ways as soon as you step inside.  Yoongi hangs back for a moment though, waiting until all the others are gone before turning to you.  

“I think I'm gonna give boys night a miss this time,” he confides, linking your hands automatically.  It feels as natural as breathing now, Yoongi’s fingers intertwining with yours, but it still makes your heart give a joyful thud whenever you feel it.  

“Was digging around in the dirt really that exhausting?” you tease gently, knowing full well how much your body is aching even as you speak.  

“It's not that,” he scoffs, rolling his eyes but smiling a little nonetheless, “Just wanna spend some time on my music.”  

“Want me to come keep you company?” you offer sweetly, swinging your arms.  

“Don't take this the wrong way, but you'd probably end up being more of a distraction than anything else.”

“Oh, I see how it is,” you grin, trying to feign annoyance and wrench your hands out of his but failing miserably.  

“Stop it,” he laughs, teeth and gums and all, relinquishing your hands to pull you into a tight hug instead.  “You'll have all my attention again soon enough.”

“I better.”  Yoongi chuckles at you, leaning down to press his forehead to yours, his lips to your lips shortly thereafter.  When he pulls away he looks thoughtful, pensive, and after a momentary pause he asks,

“You think he'd let you spend the night some time?” You know ‘he’ means Jimin, but after surmising that you draw a bit of a blank.  You honestly don't know if he would or not, although your instincts tell you the answer would probably be a no.  Sex is one thing but… falling sleeping in another man's arms?  In Yoongi's arms?  No matter how badly you might wish for it, you've no idea what Jimin would say should you actually ask.

Yoongi must mistake your thoughtfulness for hesitation because you can spot the exact moment he starts to withdraw, trying to close himself off now that he's realised how unintentionally vulnerable he's made himself.  He tries to take his hands from yours, straightening his back, glancing away in embarrassment.  

“If you wanted to.  You probably don't.”  You hold on like a vice, closing the space he just put between you. “I know the first time was-"

“Of course I want to to,” you reassure, interrupting him and smiling softly, “I'll ask, ok?”

“Ok.”  Yoongi's features relax, mirroring your smile before leaning in for one last kiss that makes you hum longingly against his lips.  “See you later.”

“Don't work too hard.”  

 

It doesn't take you too long to make yourself presentable again, slipping into a soft sweater and comfortable pyjama bottoms adorned with cute cartoon animals.  You try to avoid looking at the laundry hamper as you leave the room - it’s almost full again already after your numerous changes of clothing today.  Oh well, another job for another day.  Maybe if you ask Jungkook nicely enough he might do it for you; the boy seems to find some sort of bizarre enjoyment in doing the laundry, always taking his time in making sure it's crisp and neatly folded.

You head upstairs his room, eager to see what the inside of it looks like.  All the boys have joked about it being small, but you really don't think it's that bad once you get in there.  Sure, his double bed has one side pushed up against the wall, and there's not a lot of space between the other edge and his desk, but there's enough space to move around, and he's clearly got it set up just the way he wants it.  It seems like there's tech everywhere; two screens sat atop his desk alone, an impressive looking set of gaming headphones next to them, and on the wall opposite his bed is a god-knows-how-many-inch TV that he's got a console connected to.  It's a gamer’s paradise, really.  

The three boys are already sat atop of the bed when you arrive, controllers in all but Jin’s hands as they wait for whatever game they’re going to play to finish updating, and when Taehyung spots you he starts to dig his elbows into Jungkook’s side.  

“Move up, Kookie -ah .  Make some room.”  Jungkook looks at him reproachfully, rubbing his ribs, but starts to move up anyway until you dismissively wave your hand.  

“It’s alright, Tae, I’ll be alright on the floor,” you assure him, putting yourself in the little nook where the bed and wall meet and leaning your back into the corner as you shuffle around, getting comfortable.   Satisfied that you are, in fact, as alright as you say, the two younger boys start debating the finer points of whatever it is they’re about to play.  The topic is so foreign to you that it almost sounds like they’re speaking a different language, and you’re reassured when you see Jin looking just as lost as you.  You share a look, Jin’s eyebrows rising comically as he shrugs his broad shoulders, and the sight of it makes you giggle, patting the leg that’s hanging off the edge of the bed next to you fondly.  

“One of these we’re going to have spend some time just you and me, oppa ,” you say, tilting your head back against the mattress to look up at him with a smile, “I always feel like there’s lots I don’t know about you yet.”

“Are you sure you aren’t just looking for an excuse to spend more time with this handsome face?” he smiles sweetly, waving his hand around to display it to maximum effect and making you chuckle once more.  

“Ah,” you sigh, tilting your head to the side, “You caught me.  That, and I’m dying to hear more of those stunning puns of yours.”  

“Well who’d blame you?  We’ll make a date of it sometime, for sure.”  

“Sounds good,” you smile, patting his leg once more and then letting your hand slide back down onto the carpeted floor.  There’s no point in trying to maintain a conversation now, anyway.  The game’s fully updated and ready to go, and Jungkook’s speakers are turned up so loud that it’s a wonder the furniture doesn’t start to vibrate.  

You watch them for a little while, but honestly you’re not paying that much attention.  It’s some kind of first person shooter, group espionage type thing, from what you can gather, and after a while even watching Taehyung lose miserably over and over again starts to be less and less amusing.  You end up tilting your head back again and looking at Jin who’s now sat tapping away on his phone, a soft smile lighting up his gentle features.  You wonder if he’s talking to his girl in Korea, making a mental note to find out more about her should you and Jin ever actually spend that time one-on-one.  If it were any of the others you might just come out and ask about her now, but Jin strikes you as a more private kind of person, one who wouldn’t necessarily appreciate talking about those kind of things in a public setting.  

Your bum’s starting to go numb, sat on the floor for so long.  You shift your weight, uncrossing your legs and adopting a different position, and as you do your hand comes to rest just underneath Jungkook’s bed frame, almost slipping under your weight when it lands on something hard rather than the plush carpet you were expecting.  Curiously, you pull out whatever it is that’s resting under your palm.

It’s a hardbacked book, one that you recognise from the few times you’ve seen Jungkook sketching rather than having his eyes fixed on a screen.  The fingers itch with intrigue, longing to open it and look through, and when you glance up and see how little attention any of the boys are paying to your actions, the urge becomes one you can no longer resist.  Subtly, keeping the book still halfway under the bed, you flip the front cover open and take a peek.  

Jungkook’s drawings are wonderful .  He seems to favour either delicate pencil lines or shaded charcoal, and every piece is drawn in a realistic style, the little details you note in each one bordering on obsessive.  His subject matter is fairly varied; architecture, machinary - game characters, of course - plants and animals.  There’s even a roughly drawn sketch of Nova in here, one that makes you screw up your nose and smile when you see it.

What lies on the next page is nothing that you could’ve anticipated, not even for a second.  Your own smiling face is right there on the paper, and everything about it makes you feel like Jungkook invested an awful lot of time into this one.  The lines and shading are flawless, so perfect that if it were in colour you’d mistake it for a photograph rather than a drawing, and when you turn the page you see another that’s just as detailed as the last.  This time he’s captured you curled up napping on a sofa, Nova lying against the curve of your stomach, all your features relaxed by sleep.  He’s made you look beautiful, elegant - almost as ethereal as Jimin appears to you - and when you turn yet another page you’re met with what can only be described as a study of your eyes, drawn over and over again but each set conveying a variety recognisable, potent emotions.  

It’s only when you finally turn to a blank page that you realise how hard you’re blushing, your cheeks throbbing with heat at this unexpected discovery… this overwhelming tribute unknowingly offered by Jungkook’s own hands.  

You shut the book, looking up and meaning to put it back but freezing when you inadvertently meet the youngest vampire’s eyes.  He’s seen you looking, his gaze glancing down to the book in your hands and then flicking nervously to the others who thankfully enough have started to play their own round and rendered them sufficiently distracted.  From the anxiety plainly written on his face - the way he’s biting his lip as he looks at you pleadingly - you realise that he’s presuming your intention is to embarrass him. to show Taehyung and Jin just what he’s been drawing and laugh with them at his expense.

You’ve no intention of doing such a thing, though.  For one, you’d probably find it just as mortifying as him, and two… well, you’re just not that mean.  If Jungkook is harbouring a bit of a crush on you - which would make sense, all things considered - it’d be truly cruel of you to inform the entire world of it.  

It’s with that mindset that you gently place the book back under the bed, smiling in a way that you hope is both reassuring and kind, and Jungkook must get the message that you’re trying to convey because his features start to gradually relax, his shoulders un-bunching as he slumps back against the wall.  His slender lips send a small smile back to you, and for once he seems in no hurry to end the eye contact you’re enjoying, his sweet, hazel eyes staring back into yours.  You watch as they slowly start to fill with a warmth that gradually becomes a heat, the smile slipping from his face as something more dark and primal enters his expression.  You’ve never, ever seen Jungkook look at you this way before, and it sparks a fire in the pit of your stomach so hot that you’re unable to deny its presence.  

Luckily, or unluckily, you’re unsure which, it’s at that moment Jimin and Hoseok happen to return.  Hobi bursts into the room with no warning, surprisingly full of energy considering they’ve been out all night, throwing himself over the laps of all three boys with a shout and a ridiculous smile, well and truly interrupting whatever moment you and Jungkook were just having.  

Jimin enters the room in a rather sedate pace by comparison, pushing his hair back from his face as his eyes scan the small space, obviously looking for you.  He smiles when he spots you in your little corner, walking over and completely ignoring the fight that’s now broken out on the bed to offer you his hand.      

“What’re you doing all the way down there?” he asks sweetly, helping you up and pulling you into his arms for a kiss that’s as passionate as it is fleeting.  

“There wasn’t any space left,” you answer when he pulls away, embarrassed by how breathless he’s made you with just one little kiss.  Jimin backs up, pulling you with him, and when he flops back heavily into Jungkook’s computer chair he pats knee, smirking suggestively up at you with an eyebrow raised.  You climb into his lap obediently, wrapping your arms around his shoulders and snuggling into the crook of his neck, so glad that he’s home and safe and sound that you don’t care what the others might think of this gratuitous display of affection.  

He wraps his arms around you too, running his fingers through your hair as he presses a kiss to your forehead and then murmurs softly into your ear,

“There’s always room for you on daddy’s knee, little kitten.”

Chapter Text

As furious as their little foray amongst Jungkook’s sheets happens to be, it doesn’t take the four boys long to calm down again once Jin begins to threaten them all with a variety of torture methods should one more pillow happen to dare strike his perfect face.   They settle back into playing whatever game it is they were absorbed in before, Hoseok swiping a controller from Taehyung to make up for lost time, and though you and Jimin are more caught up in each other than anything else, you still notice Jungkook casting more than one fleeting glance your way.  

“All straight forward?” You lean your head on Jimin’s, walking your fingers up and along the buttons of his black shirt.  “I’m guessing it was, you’ve come back looking pretty clean.”  

“Mm,” Jimin agrees, taking hold of your two fingers and then curling his hand around the entirety of yours, holding it to his chest, “I let Hobi take the lead tonight.  The whole thing felt like more hassle than it was worth.”

“Ah,” you smile knowingly, looking over at Hoseok and noting the beaming smile on his face once more, “No wonder he’s in such a good mood then.”  The soft tip of Jimin’s nose brushes against your cheek, rubbing back and forth as he tightens his grip on your side, pulling you in closer.

“We’re simple creatures.  Love us and keep us well fed and we’re happy.”  

“Is that vampires, or just men in general?” Jimin laughs, his adorable eyes pressing into a straight line as he does.  

“Both, I think.”  You grin, knocking your forehead gently into his.  

“Any other tips on what makes a contented Jimin?”

“Hmm…” he muses, tapping his chin in an exaggerated scholarly expression that soon cracks into another smile.  He leans in close so that he can speak directly into your ear, squeezing that hand that he’s still holding.  “Plenty of sex certainly helps.”  You scoff, shoving his chest to push him away with a chuckle, peeking at the others just to check they hadn’t overheard.  You’re fairly sure Jin would be scolding you by now if he had, anyway.  

“I’m already well aware of that,” you tease, lifting an eyebrow at him as he leans closer again, both of his arms settling around your hips as he shifts slightly underneath you.  

“Just making sure,” he replies all too innocently, widening his eyes far more than they ever naturally rest, and damn it if he doesn’t look the very definition of cherubic.  How’re you ever supposed to resist Jimin when he demonstrates each duality of his personality so well and to such devastating effect?  You place a hand on his jaw, rubbing his cheek with your thumb as you lean in to kiss him, your lips already curved into a smile.  

You don’t mean to the kiss to be more than a peck, but inevitably it ends up becoming more.  It always does with you two.  Jimin’s soft tongue brushes against your lips to gain entryway to your mouth, sliding inside as he kisses you sensually, unhurriedly, his hand eventually finding its way to push your hair back from your face and then resting there.  A luscious heat starts to kindle deep in your pelvis, a quiet moan slipping from your lips when Jimin encourages your hip back and forth to gently rock you against his lap, just once.  

“If you’re gonna fuck, can you maybe not do it in my chair?”  

The sound of Jungkook’s voice snaps you out of the little bubble the two of you had created, your cheeks blazing with embarrassment as you quickly pull away from Jimin’s sinful mouth.  You’d gotten so caught up that you’d entirely forgotten where you were and who you were with - though from the smirk gracing Jimin’s face you have the feeling he knew exactly what kind of a show you were putting on.  

Jungkook’s back to looking like a sullen teenager, his doe eyes rolling as he returns his attention to the game, becoming progressively more irritated by the multitude of inane, nonsensical questions that Jin’s suddenly asking as a means to avoid engaging with any of this.  

“Yeah guys, be fair,” Hobi laughs, finding the whole thing more amusing than anything else.  “Kookie -ah already has to suffer through the audio - he doesn’t need the visual as well.”  You’re momentarily distracted from your embarrassment by confusion, narrowing your eyes at Hoseok questioningly.  He tosses his controller into Taehyung’s lap - who’s staring at you and Jimin with that wide-eyed, blank expression that he so often has - and grins devilishly at you.  “Didn’t you ever wonder who’s room’s above yours?”  No, you can’t say you ever had, but now you retrace your steps and think about the layout of the house… yep.  Jungkook’s bedroom lies almost directly on top of yours and Jimin’s, and now even he’s starting to look embarrassed, his eyes fixed on the screen but sort of unfocused, like he’s looking but not really seeing.  

You really think you’ve maxed out on humiliation at this point, your cheeks beetroot red as Jimin chuckles beside you, trying and failing to soothe you by gently rubbing your back, but when Hobi opens his mouth again your shame increases tenfold.

“Ah, daddy , please!” Hoseok pleads in a falsetto tone that’s clearly supposed to mimic your own, screwing up his face in mock pleasure, “Daddy, harder! ”  Someone please, please, just kill you now.    

Mercifully Jungkook is quick to act.  It’s Hoseok he hits, though, not you, smacking his forearm into the other’s stomach full force to shut him up, scowling hard.  You interrupt Jin’s scandalised gawping by leaning forward from Jimin’s lap and reaching out your palm, requesting,

“Jin, a pillow please.”  He slowly passes you one, regarding your murderous expression with concern, and once it’s firmly in your grasp you lob it full force at Hobi’s head, smirking when it hits him straight in the face and knocks him back to clonk his head against the wall.  

“It’s not nice to kink-shame hyung ,” you hear Taehyung murmur as the sufficiently chastised vampire sits up, rubbing the back of his head but still smiling far too widely for your liking.  

“Thank you, Tae,” you acknowledge, letting yourself sink back into Jimin’s arms as Taehyung turns those soft brown orbs of his back on you, his gaze so intense that it’s almost like he’s looking right through you.  

“Alright, alright,” Hoseok chuckles, backing down and lifting his hands in surrender, “I’m sorry for embarrassing you, beautiful.”  He throws in a roguish wink for good measure, one that has you rolling your eyes fondly.  It’s not like you could ever stay mad at him for more than five seconds anyway.  

“You better be, or else I’ll be forced to disclose a few embarrassing details to Sam, too.”  

“Pfft, you don’t have any dirt on me,” Hobi scoffs, his eyes then darting to Jimin nervously, “Does she, Jimin -ah? ”  You’ve never loved Jimin more than when he just shrugs, smiling a secret smile, playing along.  You revel in Hoseok’s increasingly anxious expression, giggling as Jimin embraces you again, pulling you into a kiss that remains quick and fleeting this time around.  The topic is swiftly dropped after that, their game recommencing in earnest as you and Jimin watch on, just enjoying your time together whilst it lasts.  

Not ten minutes later, however, Jungkook huffs heavily and pauses the game, looking over to Taehyung.  

“Dude, you suck right now.  If you’re not gonna concentrate then let Hobi -hyung play again - even he doesn’t get his ass owned ten times in a row.”  

“S-sorry,” Tae mumbles, passing the controller into Hobi’s waiting hands and then folding his own neatly in his nap, glancing across the room at you and then looking away, tonguing the corner of his mouth.  You’re so busy watching him and wondering what’s wrong that you don’t feel Jimin leaning in to whisper in your ear until the words are already tickling against your skin.  

“I think our little display earlier might’ve gotten Tae all hot and bothered, kitten.”  He places a kiss on that softest of skin just behind your ear, sending a shiver through you just as Taehyung’s eyes flit back your way, fixing on your lips as they part.  “Don’t tell me you haven’t noticed the way he’s been looking at you tonight.”  You feel the rate of your pulse start to escalate as Jimin’s hand that had been lingering on your knee starts to creep upward under his friend’s watchful gaze, every inch he ascends slower than the last, intentionally trying to draw a reaction from Taehyung.  It’s working, too; you can see his breathing getting harder even from here.  

Of course, Jimin doesn’t actually reach the apex of your thighs.  He does squeeze your leg though, hard, chuckling in a way that has goosebumps forming all along your arms.  

“Would you like to ask me something?” he questions quietly, your eyes still locked with Taehyung’s save when his are travelling up and down the length of you.  You bite your lip and when you do you notice the boy opposite you shift on the bed, his forearm coming to rest across his crotch, pushing down to discourage the erection that’s growing there, you presume.  

You turn your head to look at Jimin, a thrill running through you when you see how lustful his expression has become, how heavy his eyelids look above his eyes.  

“Can I go play daddy?” you ask softly, nuzzling your head into the crook of his neck to hide how coy you feel, pressing little, pleading kisses all along his creamy skin.  Jimin doesn’t reply but you feel him shift underneath you, and when you look up you see he’s got his phone in his hand.  Curious, you watch as he opens up a pre-existing chat between himself and ‘Taetae’ and then dexterously taps out a message with just his thumb.  

‘Not in the mood to game tonight?’

Taehyung’s phone must be on vibrate because although you hear nothing, the blonde-haired vampire is suddenly reaching into his pocket to fetch out his phone, his eyebrows pulling down into a frown as he reads Jimin’s message.  Before he can start to reply, your lover sends another.

‘Or are there other toys you’d rather be playing with?’

You watch as Taehyung presses his lips together, his eyes flicking up from his phone to look first at Jimin and then you, his tongue coming out to wet his lips when he notices the flush on your cheeks.   Jimin’s hand tightens on your hip as his friend shifts on the bed, his state of arousal becoming more and more obvious the longer he looks at you.  Again, he starts to reply but Jimin doesn’t give him chance.  

‘Go wait in your room.  She’ll meet you there.’  

Taehyung’s head jerks upward abruptly, his mouth hanging open as he looks to you for confirmation, eyes darting to Jimin like he can’t quite help doing so, and when you give a slight nod of your head you see him swallow, his Adam’s apple bobbing up and down in his throat.  It’s only then that you realise that Hoseok, who’s sat next to Taehyung, has come to notice this silent exchange and is now reading curiously over the other’s shoulder just as Jimin sends a fourth and final message.  

‘Make her cum for me Tae -ah .  I want to hear her screaming from here.’  

Hobi’s eyebrows shoot upward as he reads the message, his mouth falling open, and you have to resist the urge to hide your face in your hands as he then looks across the room to you.  Taehyung hasn’t even realised he’s been caught out; he’s too busy shuffling off the bed and stuffing his hands in his pockets to conceal his erection as he stands.

“I’m not feeling well,” he announces, a little too loudly, and all the while Hoseok is smirking, unconcerned with hiding his amusement.  

“Did you eat something you shouldn’t again, Tae -ah? ” Jin asks, the concern on his face taking the edge off the chastisement in his tone.   Tae shakes his head quickly, and this time when he speaks it sounds far more natural.  

“No, it’s not that.  I think maybe I’m just tired.  Don’t worry about me hyung. ”  

“I’m sure he’ll be feeling fine again in no time,” Hoseok adds cheekily and you shoot him a glare before you can help yourself.  

“Ok, well, goodnight,” Jin says, still regarding the other with something akin to suspicion but letting it go when Taehyung leaves, giving his wide shoulders a little shrug as Jungkook calls goodnight too.  

Jimin’s been gently trailing his fingertips up and down your thigh the whole time this has been happening, keeping you fixed in a state of arousal that has you squirming on his lap as you simultaneously try to avoid meeting Hobi’s eyes - not an easy task, considering you can feel them boring into the side of your head.  

“Hmm, you’re getting excited, aren’t you kitten?”  Jimin whispers into your neck, repositioning you on his lap to better demonstrate just how hard he is, “I can smell it.”  He places a teasing kiss on your shoulder and again it has you shuddering, a blush forming on your cheeks.  

“Jiminie, stop it,” you discourage quietly, trying to keep a straight face as he pushes his nose into your hair and tugs on your hips, pulling your ass into him.  

“I can’t wait to fuck you once Taehyung’s done with you.”  You bite your lip, feeling your underwear starting to dampen with arousal at Jimin’s whispered words.  “Daddy’s little slut.”  

Only by clamping down on your lip even harder do you stop a groan from escaping, and when you look up you’re mortified to see that even Hobi is starting to regard you darkly now, long having abandoned the game to leave Jungkook playing solo.  He shouldn’t be looking at you like that - he’s your friend, your friend who’s dating your best friend - but you know he can’t help it.  What else can you expect when he can hear you blood thundering excitedly through your veins?  If Jimin can smell you it won’t be long till the rest of them can too, and maybe Hoseok already can judging by the way he inhales deeply and then slumps back against the pillows, licking his lips.  

“Daddy, please can I go?”  you whimper, turning your head and kissing his pouty bottom lip, digging your fingers into his rock hard stomach through his shirt.  He pulls back to look at you with the most delicious of smirks twisting his mouth, pausing for just a moment before tilting his head to the side and taking his hands off of you.  

“Be good, kitten,” he tells you softly as you climb off his lap, all too aware of the stickiness between your legs as you cross the room toward the exit.  

“You too?” Jin questions, making you pause.  

“Yeah,” you answer shakily, wishing that Jungkook would’ve just carried on playing his game rather than now having four pairs of eyes lingering on you all at once, “It’s been a long night.”

“Sleep well then,” Jin smiles sweetly and when you mumble a thank you on your way out you catch Hobi winking at you from the other side of the bed, making you blush one more time before you pull the door shut behind you.  

You actually have to take a moment to collect yourself once you’re out in the hall.  Just a second where you lean against the wall, trying to catch your breath and prepare yourself for what you’re about to go and do.

This feels so different than before, scarier almost.   When you'd slept with Jimin and Yoongi for the first time there’d been at least some feelings involved.  None of it had been pre-planned either, not on your part anyway, so to be stood here looking at Taehyung’s door knowing if you go in there it'll be for one reason and one reason only is just… well, you can't quite get your head around it.  It's so much easier when you're all wrapped up in the moment, when you're not thinking, just feeling, letting yourself get swept up in lust and desire.  Logically, you know that that will inevitably end up happening if you can just stop being such a chicken and force yourself to take the first step.  It's with that thought in mind that you finally manage to reach out and turn Taehyung’s door handle, taking a bracing breath as you do.  

He looks up from where he's sat on the end of the bed as soon when you enter, his fingers continue to fidget in his lap even though he looks happy to see you.  

“I'd thought maybe Jimin was just teasing me,” he says and you smile nervously as you close the door softly behind you.  “There's a lock at the top.  You can...” Taehyung trails off when he notices you swallow at the suggestion, suddenly fumbling over his words as he rises from the bed.  “Unless you don't want to.  I just thought-”

“No… no it's a good idea,” you stammer, “Wouldn't want anyone walking in while we're…” It's you that trails off this time, trying not to blush at the mental image that pops into your head as you stand on your tip-toes to slide the bolt in place.  When you turn around again Taehyung is suddenly a lot closer than before, his head tilted to the side as he regards you.  

“You're so pretty Jagiya .”  He reaches out to touch your face so suddenly that you actually flinch away, baulking, and Tae frowns, evidently confused by your unexpected rejection.

“Sorry,” you apologise, laughing stupidly at yourself as you tug at your sweater sleeves.  God, your heart is pounding so hard.  “I'm kind of nervous.”  Taehyung doesn't smile but his eyes do soften as he looks down at you, and this time when he reaches out to take your hand you let him, even stepping forward a pace to bring you closer together.  

“We won't do anything you're uncomfortable with, I promise,” he assures you, his long fingers lacing through yours.  Taehyung’s taller than both Yoongi and Jimin, and you find yourself having to tilt your head far more to look him in the eyes.  He really is handsome, though unlike the others it's in an odd, almost otherworldly way, like he's the product of someone's meticulous design - every beauty spot precisely placed to enhance his beauty.  

You find yourself swallowing again, caught in his steady gaze.  

“Tell me what you'd like me to do,” Taehyung encourages softly, and it's at that moment you realise just how much you're aching for him to touch you again, the memory of the last time still a potent one in your mind.  Still, baby steps.  

“We've never kissed before,” you reply after a moment, trying not to let your voice shake. How strange it is that this boy in front of you has had his fingers inside you before, but you've never even touched lips. “Kiss me?”

Taehyung doesn’t hesitate to fulfil your request.  He steps forward till you're toe to toe, intertwining your remaining  hands and then leaning in to kiss you sweetly.  His kiss, too, is totally unlike those you've had before; his lips thinner than Jimin's but softer than Yoongi's.  He’s playful, teasing, withdrawing enough to make you chase after his lips and then surging forward again as soon as you do, giggling against his mouth.  

It's you that deepens the kiss, your confidence bolstered by Taehyung’s happy-go-lucky approach to it all.  He obligingly lets you explore the warmth of his mouth that’s so inviting, allowing you to take the lead and simply groaning when you bite gently on his bottom lip.  

Instinct is taking over now.  Whether it be Jimin or Yoongi or Taehyung, all of the basics are the same when it comes down to it.  You know what to do now to make them feel good and the things that feel best for you too, and just the thought of getting to experiment in doing those things with a new play mate is getting you all hot and bothered, eager for more now that your nerves have faded.  Your hands have slipped out of his and have come to rest instead on the oversized grey t-shirt he’s wearing.  Though you’re not trying to, you’re still able to feel the tautness of Taehyung’s lean stomach through the material, and knowing that that’s what’s lurking underneath all these expensive designer clothes, waiting to be unwrapped, just makes you want to see it for yourself all the more.  

“Taehyung,” you murmur huskily against his mouth, grabbing at his belt loops, “Tae, take off your clothes.”

Chapter Text

Taehyung is remarkably quick to respond to your request - was it a command? You’re not sure - stepping away from you just enough to pull his t-shirt off and throw it elsewhere as you watch on hungrily.  He’s just as lithe as you were expecting him to be, somewhere in between Jimin and Yoongi in terms of frame but lacking the same kind of muscle that’s bestowed on the former.  His skin is flawless though, more akin to milky coffee than cream, and you find yourself irresistibly drawn to touch him, the palms of your hands placed flat on his chest as you regard him with something halfway between lust and wonder.  

“Can I take this off?” Taehyung asks quietly, effectively pulling you out of your state of distraction by giving a tug to the front of your sweater.  

“Seeing as you asked so nicely,” you smirk, surprising yourself with how cocky you sound.  It's like Jimin’s words are coming out of your mouth without you even meaning them to.

You see Tae lick his lips right before his face disappears, your sweater being tugged over your head and momentarily obscuring your vision, shivering when it hits the floor at your feet.  You're braless underneath, and when your nipples meet the cold air they instantly start to harden, Taehyung’s intense stare only making the problem worse.  His fingers twitch at his sides.

“You want to touch them Tae?”  His mouth slightly parted, he nods just once.  “Finish getting undressed for me first.”  

Where the hell is this coming from?  You've never acted like this before - you've not even ever thought about acting like this before - but watching the way Taehyung starts to scramble to remove his pants, the way he bites his lip when you palm your own breast… yeah, this is definitely something you could learn to enjoy.  

He steps out of his pants, and now it's you that's biting your lip as your eyes come to rest on the generous tenting of his tight grey boxers.  There’s the biggest patch of pre-cum you've ever seen collecting at the head, and when Taehyung brushes his palm against his length, exhaling hard, you swear it gets even bigger.

“Those too,” you say huskily, your voice hitching when you pinch your nipple between your thumb and forefinger, knowing just the pressure with which to do it to send pleasure jolting straight between your legs.

He hooks his thumbs into the waistband at your instruction and then drags them down, kicking them off to the side.  When he straightens up and you catch full sight of him you audibly groan, squeezing your breast reflexively as you take him in.  

Taehyung’s completely hairless, and this, along with the device that he's got wrapped around the base of his cock, makes him look absolutely huge.  

“Is that one of your toys?” you ask breathlessly, your eyes stuck on the throbbing, veiny length of him even as he walks back towards you.  He immediately takes your breasts in both hands, rolling the soft flesh in his palms as he starts to kiss your neck hungrily.  

“It's a cock-ring, jagi, ” he informs you between kisses, “It’ll make me feel so good for you...”  Oh, you don't doubt it.  

“D-does it feel good for you too?” Your now unoccupied hand seems to develop a life of its own as you reach between your bodies, running a fingertip from the edge of the ring all the way the way to the tip, pre-cum oozing out onto your finger when you get there.  Taehyung practically mewls as you do this, his thumbs roughly stimulating your nipples to bring you to the point of panting too.  

“Yes…” You wrap your hand around the length of him, slowly starting to pump him up and down, smiling to yourself when he shudders. “So good…”

The kisses you share when you find his mouth again are rougher and needier than they were just five minutes ago, your tongue delving eagerly into his mouth and swallowing up every moan he makes.  One of Taehyung’s hands leaves your breasts and delves downward, slipping under the waistband of your pyjama bottoms uninvited to immediately find his way to your core.  

There's no teasing about it this time; his fingers sink directly into your wet heat, skewering you on them so roughly that you momentarily lose your mind, crying out and throwing an arm around his shoulder for support.  Your hands start to work in time with one another's, your forehead pressed to his chest that's starting to perspire as you pant against it.  

“You're so wet, so fucking wet,” Taehyung groans in those low, dulcet tones of his, and the noises coming from underneath your pyjama bottoms only serve to agree with him as he strokes at your insides.  

“More,” you moan greedily, tugging at his cock in time with his fingers, and honestly you'd think you were being a bit too rough if it weren't for the groans of pleasure that accompany his every exhale. “More Tae, give me more.” He yanks your pyjama buttons down with his free hand, allowing you to open yourself up to accommodate a third finger and a thumb against your clit.  Like this Taehyung manages to bring you to your high within seconds, your cries muffled against his chest whilst your legs threaten to give out from underneath you, awash with pleasure.  

After taking your weight during that all too fleeting moment of ecstasy, Taehyung walks you over to his bed and sits you on the end of it, bending to kiss you just that little bit softer than before, his hands cradling your face.  When you start to stroke his cock again he stands straight, his chest rising and falling heavily as you pay particular attention to the head, smoothing back his foreskin and smearing a generous helping of pre-cum around the sensitive skin underneath.  

He stands there like that, head tilted back, lips parted, gratefully receiving the pleasure you so eagerly give, and you're trying so hard to burn this image of him into your memory that you can't tear your eyes off of him, not even for a second, even when you hear voices out in the hallway.  The others must be heading to bed now too, though you pay them very little thought, far too wrapped up in trying to make Taehyung fall apart.  

“Do you want-” He has to pause for a second, his teeth dragging along his bottom lip as you squeeze his length.  “-Do you want to see my other toys?” You nod enthusiastically, releasing him from your grip even though you’re reluctant to do so.  Leaning back on your elbows you watch with a tilted head as Tae walks to his closet, sliding open the doors and then squatting to rummage inside.  He has the kind of skinny boy butt that you just want to sink your teeth into, so petite and pert, and it takes an awful lot of willpower not to follow him over there to do just that.  

Soon enough, Taehyung emerges from his closet with a black box in hand and an equally boxy grin on his face.  It’s inconspicuous enough really - just a plastic box with clip fasteners that would never arose any suspicion on first glance, but when he brings it over and opens it up, sat on the bed with the box between you, you have to try not to gawp.  There’s all manner of goodies inside, some of which you recognise, some which you most definitely don’t, and suddenly all those nerves are coming back again, making you swallow hard as your eyes drift over a rather large anal plug.  

You look up with flushed cheeks to find Tae watching you closely with those gorgeous brown eyes of his, evidently trying to gauge your reaction. Knowing that he’s waiting for you to say something you glance down into the box again, wetting your lips that have suddenly gone very dry.  

“Tae… I’ve never tried anything like this before…” you confess slowly, hoping that he won’t be too disappointed by your lack of experience.  Hell, before a few weeks ago you’d never had any experience with sex at all, let alone with whatever that… weird, egg-shaped thing is.  Surprisingly Tae just smiles, letting his head flop to the side as he regards you.  

“I don’t want to use them on you, Jagi, ” he tells you, reaching across the space between you to cup your breast again, gently toying with your nipple as a confused frown graces your face.  Why did he get them out then, if it wasn’t with the purpose of using them?  “I want you to use them on me .”

Oh.

Your mouth pops open, breath hitching and body bucking when Tae pinches your nipple harshly.  Well that… you don’t know how you feel about that.  It’s particularly hard to form any coherent thought when he continues fondling you with those eager hands of his.  

“Would you like that, Jagiya?  Want to play with me?”  You look back into the box, your eyes roving over all the different shapes and sizes and materials, and out of the corner of your eye you can see Taehyung starting to touch himself lightly.  He hasn’t started soften during any of this, his cock still straining hard and upright, and you think that must be partly thanks to the cock-ring still sat snugly at its base.  

Your hand is just reaching out to touch something that looks a little bit like a pair of small metal clips when Tae lets slip a deep moan, the sound of which hits you right between your legs.  Suddenly, you’re very, very certain that yes, you really do want to play his games, especially if it means you can get him making more of those delicious noises.  

“Tae… what’re these for?”  you ask softly, lifting them out of the box.  He opens his eyes - he’d let his head fall backwards with the slow, soft strokes he was bestowing on himself - and flashes you a smile when he sees what you’re holding.  

“Nipple clamps.”  You eye them suspiciously as you turn them over in your hands.  To you they just look like they should hurt, what with the toothy grips on the end… but then maybe that’s the point?  

“You want… do you want me to put these on for you?” you ask hesitantly.

“It doesn’t matter what I want,” he states matter-of-factly, his expression far too open and naive to match the things his hands are doing… the toys he likes to play with.  Your eyes drift from his face to his nipples; they’re already hard, tiny buds that are an even darker shade of brown than his skin.  You can’t help but wonder if they’d become red and swollen like his lips are under the teeth of the clamps… whether he’d whine when you put them on.  God, Yoongi would hate these… “ Jagi, please.”  Taehyung’s tone is suddenly a little desperate, his cock twitching in his hand as he looks at you from under his thick eyelashes.  “Whatever you want, I’ll do whatever you ask.  Just use me.”

Hearing his breathy, needy pleas seems to flick some sort of switch inside of you, one that you never knew was there, and before you’ve even thought about what you’re doing you’ve shoved his box of toys from between you and you’re climbing onto his lap, nipple clamps in hand.  You grab his wrist, pulling his hand off of his cock as you lean your weight against his chest to force him down onto the mattress.  Taehyung’s hands end up above his head in a seemingly automatic gesture, one that has a thrill of pleasure running through you when you see it, smirking as you lower your mouth to his chest and start to litter him with wet, careless kisses.  

It doesn’t take long for you to find your way to one of his nipples, and you’re not cautious with your tongue or your teeth as you start to flick and bite at it, already knowing that Tae will inevitably enjoy whatever pain you dish out.  Indeed, his hips are starting to move restlessly beneath you, low groans of pleasure spilling out of him each time you bite just that little bit harder.  Sitting up, you attach the first clamp to his spit-shined nipple, and the look of agony that crosses Taehyung’s face when you do makes your pussy clench around nothing, arousal starting to drip from you onto his thighs.  

“You want the other one?” you ask breathily, and when he nods you immediately repeat the process with just as pleasant results.  You take a minute just to pause and admire your work once the second one is attached, smiling to you at just how wrecked the boy beneath you looks.  His breaths are shuddering, his head lolled to the side with his blonde hair in disarray, lips bitten to pieces, his eyes shut tight, cock leaking on his stomach.  The urge to sink yourself down onto him and satisfy the fierce ache between your legs is almost overwhelming, but something holds you back.  

You’re having too much fun to stop now.  You want to see how far you can push before he’s begging for release, certain that you can have him moaning and groaning your name before you’ve even let him get inside.  

“Which is your favourite toy, Tae?” you ask softly, leaning down to kiss him and chuckling at the way his hips push upward to nudge his cock against your stomach, chasing any friction he can find.  You let your body sink down onto his, permitting him to thrust against the soft warmth of your skin for a while before cruelly taking it away again, tutting at his lack of response despite enjoying the sounds he’d started to make in the absence of real speech..  “Talk to me baby, or I won’t want to play anymore.”

That’s a lie, and you know it is, but oh, if only your daddy could see you now.  You’ve learnt so much from his example, you’re sure he’d be proud.  

“Th-the beads,” he stammers, his eyes wider than usual, mouth remaining open with the ragged breaths he’s taking.  He looks so pretty like this that you find yourself running a hand through his hair soothingly, pushing it back from his face in a gesture he seems to find comforting. “The metal ones.”

You pull the box closer to you again, rummaging around in amongst all manner of items until you find the ones you think he means, lifting them out to dangle above his face.  

“These?” His pink tongue prods at the corner of his mouth, gaze flicking from the toy to your face before he nods.  They’re heavier than you expected them to be; a long line of metal beads that slowly increase in size as they move along the chain, smooth and cold to the touch.  You’re not an idiot - you know what these are designed for - but as for actually getting started with them… you’re at a little bit of a loss.  

Thankfully your new position of power allows you some flexibility.  Instead of having to admit that you don’t know what you’re doing you simply lean down to whisper in Taehyung’s ear.

“Get yourself ready, baby.”  You nibble gently at his earlobe, pleased by the wanton groan that your words pull from his lungs.  “I want to watch you do it.”  With a great amount of willpower you climb off of his lap, remaining to kneel at the foot of the bed whilst Taehyung eagerly shimmies his way backward, leaning over to his bedside table to retrieve what turns out to be a bottle of lubricant that he squeezes liberally over the fingers of his left hand.  

You’re transfixed, watching with a bounding pulse as that hand comes downward to nestle between Taehyung’s legs.  He spreads them wider, his head falling back amongst the pillows as he strokes his perineum.  Up and down, up and down, and then further down still, till his slippery fingers are pushing against his asshole and you’re reaching down to touch yourself too, the room full of the sounds of heavy breaths that belong to the both of you.  He picks his feet up off the bed, giving you an all the more graphic view of the things he’s doing to himself, and you wait until he sinks one of his fingertips past that puckered ring of muscle before sliding a finger inside yourself too.  

Both of you are moaning simultaneously, fingering yourselves in union, and god, Taehyung’s sheets are going to be ruined by the time you’re done, your juices running down your thighs as you watch him stretch himself open, adding a second finger, whimpering into the pillow when he does so.  

You can’t stand it any longer; you need to touch him again, you need to find some relief of your own.  Crawling up the bed, you call his name and Taehyung lets his legs drop, craning his neck forward to look down at where you’re sat between his feet,  He curses loudly when he sees what you’re doing with the anal beads, easing them in and out of your pussy to warm and lubricate them, and when you smirk back at him, allowing yourself a salacious moan, his head flops right back down into the pillow, his hips flexing up from the mattress.  

“You want these, Tae?” you ask, withdrawing them from yourself to press the blunt curve of the smallest ball against his perineum.  

“Please,” he groans, his body tipping from side to side like he’s trying to wriggle after it when you drag the metal across his hole.  Gingerly you apply a little pressure, testing the resistance and biting your lip when Taehyung hisses.  “Please, put it in, Jagi, please.”  Hushing him, you spare a modicum of pity and start to palm his cock again, stroking the length of him as you gradually ease the first bead inside, and then the second, and then the third, and with each ball that slips inside Taehyung whimpers and cries, twitching in your hand.  By the time the toy is fully inserted he’s practically tearing at his own hair, the heels of his hands pressed into his eyes, legs shaking on either side of you.  

“Are you ok?” you check quietly, placing a gentle kiss on his knee and ceasing all motion for a moment, concerned that it’s all becoming a little too much.  

“Mm-m ok,” he answers after a brief pause, barely able to speak he’s so breathless and keeping his eyes covered.  “Feels so g-good.”  Again his cock twitches, the whole length of it throbbing and starting to look painfully swollen, the head an angry red from where it’s emerging above your fist.  

Sufficiently reassured you begin again, withdrawing the beads almost entirely before thrusting them back inside, and every time you do it’s almost like you can feel it yourself, your pussy aching so badly that you could cry.  Taehyung looks like he’s beginning to fair no better, either, his lips nearly bleeding from how badly he’s been biting them, his cries becoming more and more desperate each time he’s breached.  

There’s no pre-cum left to seep from him anymore, but what remains you lean over and begin to lick from him, moaning as you suckle soothingly on the head of his cock, and it’s at this point Taehyung breaks.

“I can’t, Jagi , I can’t take anymore,” he tells you, his voice hoarse, eyes filling with tears as he removes his hands only to have you take them both, threading your fingers through his.  “I need to cum, please, please let me cum, it hurts, Jagiya. ”  

“Ok, ok,” you soothe, climbing across him to sit astride his hips, smothering his continuing pleas with the softest, gentlest of kisses until you feel him start to calm, his grip on your hands starting to loosen, his muscles starting to go lax underneath you.  “It’s ok.”  You smile tenderly at him, releasing his hands to first stroke his face and then remove the ring that’d brought him so much pleasure and pain.  He sighs in relief as it comes off and once again you kiss him, suddenly full of affection, wanting to touch him all over but no longer tease.

“You’ve been such a good boy, Taehyung,” you praise, smiling when you hear him hum happily into your next kiss.  You reach down between your bodies, only now realising how badly your hands are shaking as you line up the tip of his cock with your entrance.

“Please,” he whispers, and that’s enough for you to finally give in, allowing yourself what you both so desperately want by sinking onto him in one exquisite motion.  The feel of him stretching you open, the way your walls clench around him, just finally feeling full , it’s enough to have you falling forward to bury your head in the crook of his neck, stammering a string of nonsensical curses.  You can’t wait to allow yourself time to stretch, to accomodate; you’re too desperate for that, and so is he.

“Taehyung,” you gasp, rocking your hips back and forth, your fingers threaded in his hair, “Tae, make me cum, fuck me, please.”  You’re past the point of no return, no longer able to remain the dominant one, to be the one in control - you need him to take over, to wreck and ravage you until you can’t take a minute more and luckily, he obliges.  His hands settle on your hips, grabbing at you as he starts to slam up into you from underneath, and god, it feels so good that you know you won’t last long, not after how long you’ve waited for this moment.  

“So good, so good,” you hear him groaning between pants, his face turning to press against your hair, “Feels so good, Jagi , fuck.”  

Writhing on top of him, chasing your orgasm on his cock as it pounds against your g-spot, you start to suck on his neck, leaving dark, purple bruises to show where you’ve been.  It’s the only way to stop yourself from screaming, and honestly, you love the way he’s moaning in agony, only fucking you harder in response to the added pain.  

“Tae, Tae-ah, ah, I’m gonna cum, shit, I’m gonna-”  That’s all you can manage before it suddenly rips through you, the strength of it almost knocking you out as pleasure floods through your body, crying out and grabbing onto whichever part of him you can reach first.  He’s right behind you, too, moaning your name, begging you for something.

“Pull it out, when I- ah- please!”  Through the haze you realise what he wants you to do just in time to do it, mindlessly sitting yourself up and reaching behind where you’re joined to grasp the end of the anal beads, all the while his cock still hammering into you, your engorged clit brushing on his pubic bone, and as you yank the beads out you feel it growing again, your nerve endings screaming with ecstasy.

“God!” you shout, another orgasm roaring through you even stronger than the last as Taehyung finds his release too, spilling his load into you pulse after pulse as you contract around him, both of you moaning helplessly as you hold onto each other lest you fall apart.  There's one all-consuming thought that runs through your jumbled mind as you and Tae catch your breath, enjoying a quiet, post-coital embrace in which he's pressing soft, affectionate kisses against your neck.

If this is what all play dates with Taehyung are like, you're definitely going have to schedule another one.  

Chapter Text

“That was fun.”  Taehyung’s grinning at you as he comes back to bed with a washcloth in each hand for you to both clean up, and you take it with a grateful smile, sitting up and trying to find a dry spot to put yourself in.  

“Certainly was,” you agree, eyeing up the marks that you’ve left littering his neck and cringing a little at the sight of them.  “Sorry about those.”  He frowns slightly, not realising what you mean until you gently touch his throat when he leans over to take the cloth back.  

“Oh.”  He gives a breathy laugh, glancing at the floor bashfully before throwing the soiled laundry into his hamper and sitting next to you on the bed. “I’ve come home with worse, don’t worry.”  

You can’t believe how self-confident he is, sitting cross legged with everything on display the way he is.  He seems almost oblivious to his state of undress, totally unashamed, and why should he be, looking the way he does?  You’re a little envious really; even though you’ve just slept together you’re still too self-conscious to lie there totally exposed - you struggle to do that still with Jimin, nevermind Tae - so you tug the bedsheets upward to cover yourself, smiling sheepishly.

“Was that from the ‘club’ you go to?” you ask, remembering what Jimin had told you before, ignoring the way Taehyung now looks like he’s trying stare right through the sheet that’s wrapped around your frame.  Jeez, he’s insatiable.

“You know about that?”

“Not really.  Don’t worry, Jimin didn’t give me any of the details.”  Taehyung looks thoughtful for a minute, and curious as you always are, you can’t help but delve further, “Is that where you got into all… this stuff?” Slowly, he nods.

“It’s not really a club… more like a safe space for people who like that kind of thing… BDSM, pet play…” he pauses, visibly hesitating for a moment before smiling slightly and adding, “Daddies and littles.”  You blink, feeling colour rush to your cheeks at even the mention of it.  You’d kind of hoped no one would ever bring it up again, but you’d rather it was  him than Hobi or Jin… or worse yet, Jungkook.

“Don’t be embarrassed,” Taehyung says quickly, noticing the way your hands are creeping upward to cover your rosy face, “You’re really lucky; I’ve always thought Jimin would make a good daddy.”  He doesn’t seem to realise what he’s said until you start to giggle, and when he does his eyes broaden and he shuffles on the bed nervously, twisting his torso to face yours more directly.  “Don’t tell him I said that.”  

“His ego doesn’t need inflating any further,” you smile, leaning your shoulder against Taehyung’s.  Both of your bodies are still slightly sticky after your earlier exertion; you really should hop in the shower as soon as possible.  “I won’t say anything.”

“Thanks.” He grins, scrunching his eyes together, and he looks so sweet that you can’t help but press a quick, affectionate kiss against his cheek, the remnants of which he presses his fingertips to when you pull away.  

“Is that… do you-um-do you have one?”  You shouldn’t be nearly so shy about asking him about these things, considering what you’ve just done, but still here you are blushing again and tripping over your words when it comes to anything too risqué.  

“A daddy?” He shakes his head, smiling once more.  “Nah, but I do have a mommy.”  

“A mommy?”  You have to try not to choke as you blurt the words out.  You’re not sure why it even comes as a surprise anyway; if ‘daddies’ are a thing then it just makes sense that ‘mommies’ are too.  

“Uh-huh,” he nods, “She calls me baby boy.” Taehyung says it with so much innocence, so plainly, that it almost makes you feel stupid for being so taken aback by it.  Maybe it’s because he is what he is - a predator, a killer - and even though he was fairly submissive with you just now, the idea of him being dominated in the same way Jimin dominates you… it just seems like the most unlikely the world.

“Does she, your mommy, does she know about you?”  

“About these?” Taehyung draws his lips back and tilts his head back for a second to expose his long, pointed fangs.  He usually keeps them so well hidden that this is the first time you’ve ever seen them, and it sends a thrill and a shudder down your spine.  “No.  The whole reason I first started going there was to help control that side of me.”  You tilt your head curiously, hoping he’ll explain further.  “I had a bit of a… problem not long after we were first turned.”

“A problem?”  For once Tae looks mildly uncomfortable, folding his hands together in the space between his knees and looking away for a second.  

“I killed… a lot of people, Jagi ,” he confesses slowly, deep voice muttering out the words so quietly that you almost don’t hear.  “The others were always smarter than me… they knew we’d get into trouble if we took more than we needed just to survive but…”  He licks his lips, lifting his troubled eyes from the bed to look back at you, “It was too easy, and I liked it.”  A slightly glazed, far off look enters Taehyung’s expression for a moment, like he’s lost in a memory, and it isn’t until you shift uncomfortably under the weight of his eyes on your throat that he seems to remember himself, looking away.  “The whole town found out about us, and it was all my fault.”  

There’s a short silence in which neither of you can seem to stand to look at one another.  You can tell he feels guilty about it - all you need to do is look at the slump of his shoulders to see that - so after a moment you resolve to let it bother you no further.  He’s not that person anymore anyway.  Taehyung could’ve killed you whilst you were in his arms with no effort at all if he’d have felt so inclined but he didn’t, and you trust him enough to know he’d never do anything to hurt you, regardless of how checkered his past might be.  Not ever.  

“What does that have to do with the club?” you ask, trying to move the conversation past the point of generating so much remorse.  

“It was Namjoon-hyung that told me I should try it, after we ran and ended up here.”  

Why does that not surprise you?  If there was going to be anyone that knew about that sort of lifestyle it feels appropriate that it’d be him.  Your mind starts to drift for a moment, wondering just how extreme Namjoon’s tastes might be.  If he’s willing to kill during sex you can’t really imagine him having much of a problem with else, no matter how kinky or depraved.  

“He thought it’d help me control my urges… give me a different outlet.”  You give your head a little shake, turning your attention back to Tae after you realise you’d been staring off into space, all kinds of images playing in your head that you don’t want to admit having even to yourself.

“Wouldn’t it make more sense for you to be the more dominant one, then?” you ask and Taehyung smiles a little.

“Probably, but I wasn’t disciplined enough for that.  If I hadn’t have been muzzled and restrained like I was it wouldn’t have been safe, and once I tried it…”  He shrugs loosely, that smile of his growing, “Well, it worked.”   Once again your mind wanders, asking yourself why Jungkook hasn’t resorted to trying anything like that before now if it really helps the way Tae’s saying it does, and now your brain’s full of images of that, too.  

Man, living here really has corrupted your once such innocent mind, hasn’t it?

“Well,” you smile after dragging yourself out of the gutter of smut you’re wallowing in, “I’m glad you found something that helped.”   

“Me too,” he grins back, all his pearly teeth showing, fangs included.  Could this sweet boy really have been such a killing machine?  Out of all of them Taehyung looks like the most unlikely, with his soft eyes and faraway look, but perhaps that’s what made him so deadly?  You can certainly imagine how he could lull you into a false sense of security and convince you to let your guard down before making his deadly strike.

Taehyung says no more after that, swivelling around on the bed to grab the TV remote from his bedside table and put away the lubricant at the same time.  It’d be so easy to just lie back and get comfy, watch some TV and fall asleep like your tired eyes are telling you to, but instead you force yourself up and out of bed, retrieving your clothes off the floor.  

“I’d better go,” you tell him, pulling on your pyjama bottoms with a regretful smile, “Jimin’ll be waiting for me.”

“Ok,” he replies, quite contented as he slumps back and starts to flick through the channels, and therein lies the difference between your relationship with Taehyung and with Yoongi.  Tae’s not interested in your affection - he just wants to have fun - whereas Yoongi… Yoongi holds onto you like he never wants to let you go.  You ignore the pang of longing that hits you square in the chest, pulling on your sweater and readying yourself to leave.  

“I really did have fun,” you smile and Taehyung grins back, flopping his head to the side against the wall.  

“Me too, Jagiya.  Hope you can come play again.”

“I hope so too.”  You’re about to turn to leave when your eyes happen to drift over Taehyung’s little box of treasures where it’s still resting at the foot of the bed, and without meaning to you find yourself walking over to have another look inside, knitting your eyebrows together thoughtfully.  Those metal beads would definitely be too big for you, but maybe…?

You take out a smaller set made of black plastic and lift them up so Taehyung can see what you’re holding, trying not to blush as you ask,

“Mind if I borrow these?”  


When you get back to Jimin’s room you half expect him to already be asleep.  He’s always tired when he comes back from an assignment and the lights are turned off inside, only the glow of the TV illuminating the otherwise darkened room, but as soon as the door opens far enough to reveal the length of the bed you realise your presumption was wrong.  

Jimin’s sat bolt upright against the headboard in just a pair of sweats, Nova curled up in a ball on his lap, and you can hear her purring even from across the room as his fingers rake through her fur.  He'd been absorbed in watching something when you first arrived, but the moment he hears your quiet footsteps all of Jimin’s attention is focused solely on you, a light smirk gracing his face.  

“Did you and Tae have fun?” he asks softly, his watchful eyes studying your every step as you approach the bed, unable to hold back a brief yawn.  

“Mmhm.”  You climb onto the bed next to him, crawling along feeling even more tired than you did before now that you’re back here with Jimin, where you belong, his one arm extending outward to usher you into the space at his side, and the way you slot so in perfectly against him makes it feel like you were always designed to.  Nova seems to disagree though, apparently,  getting up the very moment you start to invade her space to stretch, hopping down from the bed with a thud and disgruntled mewl.  Well, good riddance anyway.  As much as you love her you’re fairly sure Nova prefers the company of male vampires over yours - well, with the exception of Taehyung, anyway.  “So tired…” you mumble, pressing your face into his bare chest, relishing the scent of him as you snuggle in with your eyes tightly closed.  

“I’ll bet you are.”  You feel Jimin’s lips press against against your hair in a fleeting kiss, his fingers trailing through the length of it, and for a little while he lets you drift blissfully halfway into slumber before waking you all too soon with a low, stern whisper.  “You’re forgetting about our second rule, kitten.  Am I going to have to punish you again?”

And just like that you’re suddenly awake - as much as you possibly can be anyway, your blurry eyes still half closed as you force yourself to sit up a little straighter in his arms.

“Sorry daddy…” you apologise meekly, once again trying and failing to hold back a yawn, “I’m just… I’m so tired after my piano lesson and the gardening and then staying up late with Taehyung…”

Jimin’s clearly having none of your excuses; you can tell just by the stern expression on his face, the one that thrills and frightens you all at the same time.  He tilts his head to side, narrowing his eyes, and you have to try very hard not to let yourself get distracted by just how devastatingly beautiful he looks when the artificial glow coming from the TV screen highlights his profile just so.  

“I don’t see how that’s my problem.”  Before you’re able to figure out what he’s doing Jimin’s already gripped your sweater in both of his hands and pulled it off only to then fling it onto the floor with dark, lustful eyes.  “You know the rules.  It’s not daddy’s fault that you’re such a greedy little girl.”  As he speaks Jimin grabs a hold of the back of your neck, his fingers wrapping possessively around your collar and squeezing lightly, and it’s with that grip that he drags you towards him, slamming your mouth into his to kiss you with so much ferocity that it takes your breath away.  

What hope did you ever have of resisting him?  

He pushes you onto your back to lean over you, pinning you with his weight as his tongue delving hungrily into your mouth, and even though you’re beyond exhausted your body still starts to wake and quiver with excitement under him.  

“Did he make you cum?” Jimin asks between the messy, frantic kisses he starts to trail down your throat, his voice coming out needier and breathier than usual.  Perhaps he’s not in quite as much control as he might have initially appeared to be.  

“Yes,” you moan, your hips flexing as he passes his hand under the waistband of your bottoms to head straight between your legs.  You cling onto his shoulders, trying not to shout when he starts to rub roughly at your clitoris - you’re still so sensitive that it’s almost unbearable, your toes curling into the sheets.  

“How many times?”  He’s kissing your collarbone now, scraping blunt, harmless teeth along the bone, a manic look in his eyes as he watches your face for every little flicker of reaction.  

“Two times, two.”  

“Then you owe me at least two more.”  He removes his hand from your bottoms and focuses on stripping you of what little clothing remains, not waiting for you to lift your hips to ease the way, just yanking them off whist his mouth is busy abusing your breast.  You’d completely forgotten about what was tucked away safely in your pocket, pre-occupied as you are, so it’s only when you hear the light thud of your borrowed toy hitting the floor after rolling off the bed that you remember even bringing it with you at all.  

Jimin must hear the noise too, because suddenly he’s sitting up and pausing to lean over the side of the bed, a curious look on his face.  It gives you precious seconds to try and catch your breath as you stare at the ceiling, hands in your hair, just waiting for his reaction whilst you will your body to calm down a little.  You’re never going to survive this if you remain so over-sensitive.

“What’re these, kitten?”  Jimin asks, straightening up and bringing with him the anal beads.  He lets them dangle above your stomach from where he’s sat between your legs, a smirk on his face and his eyebrows raised.

“I borrowed them from Taehyung…” you murmur quietly, biting your lip.  His smirk only grows as you speak, his eyes flicking down to look between your legs and then back to your face, pupils even more dilated than they were before.  

“He used these on you?”  Slowly you shake your head, and part of you delights in the look of surprise that briefly passes over Jimin’s face, momentarily breaking his composure.  “On him?”  You nod, smiling slyly.  Jimin’s head tilts back for a second, his lips pressing together to hold back a groan, and when he meets your eyes again he looks positively feral , so consumed with desire you’re not sure if he’s planning on fucking or eating you first.  “You’re such a dirty, dirty girl,” he snarls, keeping the toy in hand but grabbing you by the backs of your knees to yank you towards him and pull your legs apart, dipping his head.  “I fucking love it.”  

Jimin’s face disappears between your legs.  He plunges his tongue inside the slickness of your pussy and groans as he begins to eagerly eat you out, his hands wrapped round the backs of your thighs to keep you close.  Your back arches from the mattress, biting your lip to hold back a moan, and though you’re almost completely lost to the pleasure radiating from your core, some small part of your mind is still fixating on the fact that Jimin’s tongue is thrusting inside where Taehyung’s cock was only half an hour before.  Can he taste him there?  Strange as it is, the thought of it only turns you on more.   

“Tastes so good,” he hums into you, an obscene, wet slurping sound reaching your ears when he sucks harshly on your clitoris.  You whisper his name breathlessly, your hands placed on each of your blazing cheeks in hopes of cooling them down as a war rages inside your body, caught somewhere between wanting more and telling him to stop because you’re so, so sensitive down there.  Not that you’re sure he’d listen anyway - you knew the rules, after all.  

Jimin’s tongue slips back inside your core, pleasuring you there until you’re mewling quietly again, and then suddenly his mouth starts lavishing attention elsewhere, moving downward, lapping across your perineum and then -

“Oh!”  Your body automatically bucks away at the foreign feel of Jimin’s pouting lips pressing a light kiss against your puckered hole.  He momentarily pauses, peeking up at you past your pubic bone with a slalacious smile.  

“My turn to play now, kitten,” he says softly, your glistening wetness smeared across his lips, “Gonna taste every little bit of you, ok?”  You swallow nervously, knowing what that means without him actually needing to say the words.  It means a lot to you that he waits for you to haltingly nod, biting down on your bottom lip. Rough he may be, but you know Jimin would never do anything to you that you didn’t want him to, and he flashes you a sweet, genuine smile for just a second before his eyes darken again.

He returns to your core for just a little while, soothing your nerves with gentle licks and kisses before he slowly slips lower again.  Tentatively, he starts to lap at you with the flat on his tongue, and with each stroke it gets a little bit easier to fight that instinct to pull away.  You’re surprised at how quickly the strange feeling starts to get good, actually, and when Jimin starts to rub your clitoris at the same time you soon start moaning again, breath hitching in your throat when the tip of his tongue starts to apply a gentle, persistent pressure.  

It’s as you hide your face behind your hands, panting, that Jimin gets his first taste of you there, too.  You can’t believe you’re letting him do it, writhing around on the end of his tongue wondering how on earth it can feel so good.  Jimin seems to be enjoying it too; you can hear quiet, approving moans coming from between your legs, the sound of which only adds to the pleasure you’re feeling.

Something cold suddenly breaches your core, slipped inside with no prior warning, and it takes you a moment for your scrambled mind to figure out that what’s being dragged in and out of you is the anal beads that Jimin had been keeping clutched, ready and waiting, in his free hand.  Great minds clearly think alike - he’s using your wetness to lubricate them as he simultaneously readies you wish his tongue - and once both are ready he sits up to kneel between your legs once more, wiping his mouth as he presses the tip of the beads against your hole.  

“Ready to know what these feels like?” he asks in that silky smooth voice of his, biting his lip at the flush of blood visible on your cheeks and chest.  You nod again, eagerly this time, whimpering when Jimin makes you lift your feet from the bed, folding you in half and then grabbing your left buttock to spread everything apart so he can watch everything .  It’s so undignified but you really don’t care, not when you’re so focused on the feel of that first bead slowly pushing it’s way inside.  

You gasp as it suddenly slips in; there’s a stretch and burn as it pushes past that tight muscle, quickly fading into a dull throb of pleasure.

“Ok?” Jimin checks, palming and squeezing the flesh of your bottom in a way that feels soothing, comforting.  

“Mmhm,” you answer shakily, the sound muffled by your hands, and Jimin takes that as his cue to push the second one inside as well.  This one is bigger and feels even more intense, your legs starting to shake where they’re hanging in mid-air, and when the third and fourth balls slip in in quick succession the entirety of your pelvic floor clenches tight, your growing arousal slipping down between your buttocks to coat Jimin’s fingers where they’re lingering, holding onto the toy.  

“God, look at you,” you hear Jimin say, his tone so soft it sounds almost worshipful, “How does that feel, kitten?  Your pretty little ass looks so good all stretched out.”  

“Feels so... f-full,” you stutter as he slowly slides them almost all the way out and then back in again.  There’s no other way you can think to describe it;; it feels so good that when he starts to slip his fingers inside your pussy at the same time the only word you can think of is ‘heaven’.  “Jimin,” you whimper, twisting your head to press your face against the pillow, your whole body throbbing with need, “Daddy, please, I need you so much.”  

“You want me to fuck this pussy?”  Jimin asks huskily, the pace of his fingers and the toy both increasing as he thrusts them into you, “I bet you want the toy, too, don’t you?  You’re so fucking greedy.”  

“Yes daddy, please,” you beg, frustrated that you can’t see him past your legs but knowing he must be doing something because suddenly everything stops and you feel the bed shifting.  Even though he’s not moving the beads anymore you can still feel them there, your muscles pulsing around them as pleasure and want throbs in aching waves through your core.  

Jimin appears above you, grabbing onto your knees to hook his legs over your shoulders, his lips swollen, eyes hooded, and you only get a second of warning when the tip of his cock lines up with your folds before he thrusts it savagely inside.  He doesn’t give you chance to rest, pulling back immediately and then slamming in again, over and over, throwing his head back in soundless pleasure.  The wet sound of skin slapping on skin is pornographic, especially when you start to mewl along, short, sharp high-pitched yelps of pleasure falling from your lips every time his cock slams into your cervix.  

At some point your stare that had been fixed on the prominent veins in Jimin’s neck drifts upward to the ceiling, moaning your loudest moan yet before suddenly shoving your hands over your mouth when Hoseok’s voice pops into your head uninvited, reminding you who’s room is above you right now.  Jungkook will be able to hear every bit of this if you’re not careful, you’re sure of it, so you make a conscious effort to keep quiet, biting your lip, hand still pressed to your mouth to muffle your cries because no matter what you do, you just can’t stop them from coming.  

Unfortunately, Jimin has other ideas.  As soon as he spots what you’re doing he reaches down and yanks your hand off your mouth, snarling,

“Those moans are mine , and I want to hear them.”

“But… but Ju-ungkoo-ok, ahhh,” you garble, smothering a cry when he reaches down and starts to rub your clitoris, your legs bouncing on his shoulders from the harshness of his thrusts.  

“Don’t pretend like  you don’t love the thought of him hearing you,” Jimin growls, his pace never faltering even as he speaks, “You want him to hear what a slut you are for my cock, don’t you?”  God, he’s right.  Even as he says it a fresh jolt of pleasure shoots down your spine, making you twist and whimper underneath him.  “Say my name, kitten, let him hear you.”  

“Jimin!” you moan, pushing your hips up to meet his as you squeeze your eyes tight.  Apparently you weren’t loud enough, or else you got it wrong, because suddenly Jimin’s hand strikes, slapping your ass so hard that it stings and burns, the force of it shifting the beads inside you, too.

“Try again!”


“Daddy!”

The carpeted floor between his room and yours does very little to muffle the sounds coming from below.  Your sweet, pleasure-wrecked cries find Jungkook’s sensitive ears just fine, and he groans to himself as he hears them, increasing the pace of his hand as it tugs harshly on his cock.  He pretends that it’s him that’s pulling those sounds from your soft, open mouth - his cock that’s plunging into you over and over and over again - unable to even to imagine how perfect you’d feel wrapped around him.  

Jungkook knows how wet you can get - he’s seen and smelt it for himself, after all - and now he closes his eyes to picture how your pussy would look stretched out around his cock, how warm and soft it’d feel, how it’d welcome him in and how you’d beg him to never leave.  He’s so painfully hard as he listens to you, the veins on his cock throbbing under his hand, ready to blow even though he’s only been touching himself for a couple of minutes at most.

He’d tried so hard to resist, especially after you’d found out earlier that his room is so close to yours, but he never can.  It always makes him feel so dirty, getting off to the sound of his hyung fucking you, but guilt-ridden or not he still does it, touching himself to the sound of your moans every damn time .  Part of him wonders if you want him to hear - surely if you didn’t you’d be making more of an effort to be quiet, especially now you know?

But no, you’re crying out just as loud as ever, maybe even louder, and it makes Jungkook grind his teeth with arousal and frustration, clenching his jaw as he squeezes his palm around himself.  You’re such a fucking cock tease.  He hates the effect you have on him, that you have on all of them, but as much as he wants to despise you Jungkook still wants to fuck you even more. He wants to fuck you and feed from you, sink his teeth into you as you cum, and in his lust-drunk haze he tells himself he wouldn't care if he drank too much, if he drained you dry.  You deserve it for making him this way, for turning him into such a pervert, one who replays that look he saw on your face as you came in his mind over and over again.  

Jungkook’s done this enough now to be able to tell when you’re close from just the sound of your cries alone.   The tell-tale signs are all there; as Jimin starts to groan your noises are only getting higher in pitch, the bed thudding rhythmically against the wall - honestly, how can you not have known someone would hear you? - and now you’re begging, a moan of ‘daddy, daddy please!’ preceding every plea for him to give you more.  

Jungkook’s hand starts to pick up speed, stroking himself even faster as he imagines being the one able to give you exactly what you’re asking for, whispering to himself under his breath as he gets off.

“Yeah…” he groans, biting down on his lip as he squeezes himself again, trying to stop himself cumming too soon.  He wants to wait until you do, wants to imagine that he’s covering you in his cum, all over your pretty face.  “Mmff, that’s it, babygirl, take it… Sh-shit.”

He can’t hold back any longer, not when you’re moaning the way you are, crying out so loud he’d be surprised if the whole house didn’t know you’re about to cum.  The rhythmic banging of the bed is faltering but you’re still crying out with every thrust of the hips Jungkook pretends are his own,  pushing up forcefully into his hand, and when you finally cum he lets himself go too.  

Hot, thick ropes of cum spurt from him to spill out all over his stomach as he throws his head back, and if it weren’t for the sounds you and Jimin are making you’d probably be able to hear Jungkook’s own.  He groans indulgently, your name pouring from his lips as he comes down from the high of his orgasm into the shame that awaits him all too quickly.  Still, he milks it for all that he can, stroking his softening cock until the sensitivity makes it too unbearable to carry on.  It doesn’t matter how many times he cums to the thought of you, it never feels enough and he never feels satisfied - not when you’re down there and he’s up here.

By the time he’s come back to bed with his sweatpants on and a clean stomach he can hear the two of you talking below, your voices too quiet now to make out the words, but whatever it is that Jimin says, it quickly makes you being to giggle.  It’s such a sweet sound, one that has Jungkook smiling at the ceiling for a second before the pang of longing in his chest becomes too strong, turning that smile into a frown.  

When Jungkook falls asleep later that night to the sound of your voice he’s lying on his side, his arm dangling off the side of the bed so his fingertips touch the carpeted floor; reaching out for you even in his dreams.  

Chapter Text

“Nova, don’t go wandering off too far please.”  You crane your neck to peer through the bushes, watching her butt waggle and her tail swish as she saunters off into the distance.  Why you’re bothering to appeal to her better nature you’ll never know; she probably doesn’t even understand a word you’re saying, but at least you can actually see her now.  You’d spent forever threading LED fairy lights through the bushes surrounding the fountain area a couple of nights ago, and though it was a fiddly task you’re glad you took the time to get it done.  It’s both pretty and practical, and thanks to their soft and subtle glow you’re able to see what you’re doing instead of having to just root around blindly in the dark.  

You’d gotten up early anyway - apparently plant nurseries don’t deliver during the night - so you’d managed to get a lot done whilst the sun was still up.  It was nice, actually, spending some time in the daylight.  It wasn’t particularly warm - it’s almost November, after all - but the evening sun had still felt nice as its pale rays shone across your face. Maybe you should start taking some kind of Vitamin D supplement?  This nocturnal schedule probably isn’t doing you much good in the long run…

You take a momentary pause, sitting back on your heels and pulling off your gardening gloves to give your hands a chance to breathe.  You’ve been doing this for hours and now everything’s starting to ache; your back, your thighs, your butt. Being a little bit of a perfectionist at heart you don’t like to start a job and leave it unfinished, so even though you’re sore you’ve managed to keep on going, welcoming plant after plant into their new homes amongst the flower beds.  

You’re so busy looking down at your phone and skipping through your song playlist that you don’t realise anyone’s approaching you until their feet have already entered your field of vision.  Your gaze drifts up from black timberland boots to tight black jeans that are ripped at the knees, up past an oversized grey t-shirt and matching grey scarf wrapped around a slender neck to finally rest on Namjoon’s bemused face.  He lifts an eyebrow at you as you scramble to pull out your earbuds and stand, brushing off your knees to close at least a little bit of the height between you.  Clearly you’ve underestimated just how badly your legs have seized up because halfway to standing you almost get a little bit stuck, having to push on your thighs with a groan to make it all the way up, a sight that Namjoon seems to find most amusing.  

“Hey Joonie,” you greet, ignoring the smirk resting on his face as you rub your hands together, “What brings you out here?”  

“Just come to see how you’re getting along, Jungkook -ah said you’d had some kind of… delivery?” He looks around at all the work you’ve done, his second eyebrow rising to meet the first.

“He did?” You hadn’t even seen the youngest of them today.  Still, you’d think if he’d noticed the delivery arrive he could’ve at least offered to help you take it all outside.

“You did all of this today?”

“I’m a busy bee,” you confirm with a nod and a smile, only realising after you’ve said it how lame that just sounded.  Namjoon wanders over to the old trellised archway and briefly touches the flowers you've planted there.

“Ipomoea alba, right?”

“Um…” you hesitate, looking at the large white flowers with a blank expression, “If that's another fancy word for a Moonflower, then sure!”  How is it that Namjoon seems to know absolutely everything about anything?!  He smiles indulgently and it makes you blush, glancing down at your feet before you try to carry on as though his dimples aren't affecting you in the slightest.  “They're all night bloomers ‘cus… y'know.”  You grin playfully. “I know it's probably not a good idea to go planting things in winter but…”

“It looks good.”  Namjoon nods and walks over to the fountain to take a seat, patting the stone next to him as he looks expectantly back at you. “Come sit.”  You know he's not really asking, so you do as he says, a little shiver running down your spine.  Is it the cold that's affecting you so, or the scent of Namjoon's aftershave that you catch as your bottom meets the seat?  You hope it's the former, but somehow you doubt it.  “I like the lights.  They're very… you.”

“Thanks…”  You’re not sure what exactly Namjoon means by that, but at least nothing obviously negative springs to mind.  Frivolous maybe?  Regardless, you like them and he said he did too, so that's good enough.  

You’re trying not to squirm as the vampire next to you studies you thoughtfully, licking his lips just once before he asks,

“Have you made a start on that book I gave you?”

“Started?  I finished it days ago.”  Namjoon’s eyebrows lift, mildly impressed, and you can't help but smile a little smugly.  

“I take it you liked it then.  What did you think?”  You chew your bottom lip, trying to think of a reply that might meet Namjoon’s intellectually high expectations.  

“It was really interesting.  Surprisingly relevant actually, considering how long ago Huxley wrote it.”   He nods, crossing his legs and taking hold of his chin as he adds his own thoughts.  You’re sure he’s at his most handsome when he’s concentrating, when his dark eyes get that quietly introspective look about them.

“I thought it was quite a brave piece of social commentary too, given how controversial some of the themes would’ve been at the time.”  Your head bobs up and down like a nodding dog, unsure of what else to say.  You don’t really want to go too far into discussing the novel’s intricacies with Namjoon;  you’re sure the issue of encouraged sexual promiscuity will come up at some point if you do, and frankly that hits just a little too close to home to be comfortable.  “Have you read 1984?”   You shake your head.  “If you enjoyed Brave New World you’ll probably like that too. I’ll get you a copy.”  

“Not a first edition this time,” you say quickly and Namjoon’s lips curl into a small smile, glancing at the floor between his knees.  It’d taken you a few days to realise how valuable the copy he’d given you was, and after that you couldn’t help but touch it all the more gingerly, afraid to bend the spine or crumple the cover.  It must’ve cost him a fortune.  “I’d much rather have a book I can accidentally spill tea on and not have to cry over.”  He chuckles.

“Do you often do that?”  

“No, but I like to know the option’s there,” you smile and Namjoon laughs again, his shoulders shaking.  It’s nice to see him looking so relaxed, so at peace with himself for once.  

The two of you fall into a comfortable silence for a moment or two, the gentle trickling sound coming from the fountain at your back helping to soothe any of the remaining anxiety that you feel from being in his presence or from the way in which he regards you with so little consideration given to normal social convention  - doesn’t he know it’s rude to stare?  

“There was something else I wanted to give you,” Namjoon suddenly declares, and just in time too - your face was starting to feel like it was burning under the intensity of his gaze.  

“Oh?”  He starts to unwind the scarf he’s wearing from around his neck as you watch on curiously.  You almost flinch when he places it around your shoulders instead of his, startled by his sudden movement, and for a second Namjoon hesitates, looking into your eyes and only continuing when you flash him a small, cautious smile.

Carefully, he settles the scarf around your neck and as he does his fingertips brush gently across your skin.  You hope he doesn’t feel the way you shudder, or see the way your cheeks start to blush.  The scarf may not be warm - it’s not like Namjoon has any body heat to speak of - but it smells like him and that’s enough to make your head start to reel and your pulse accelerate in kind.  

“It’s getting too cold out here for you to not wrap up properly,” he tells you, his eyes focused on the part he’s trying to fluff up so it sits properly around your neck.  

“You didn’t have to give me yours though,” you reply, hoping it doesn’t sound too ungrateful.  Namjoon let’s go after a second or two more, his hands falling to rest on his knees, and when he looks back at you it’s with a small, sad smile.

“Technically it’s not mine,” he says, and you frown, tilting your head, “It was Geongmin’s… before she died.”  Your mouth pops open in shock; this was his sister’s?  Suddenly it feels too heavy around your neck, the significance of Namjoon giving you this gift not lost on you.  

“Namjoon, you shouldn’t give me this.”  You start to take it off, trying to give it back, but Namjoon takes your hands in his and pulls them away, holding them tightly where they now rest on your lap.  

“I want you to have it,” he persists, shifting closer to you across the stone, his knees now making contact with yours as he leans forwards slightly.  “You remind me of her; always trying to see the best in everyone, always smiling.”  You blush, looking away for a second.  Namjoon is rubbing his thumbs across the back of each of your hands, smiling softly when you look back. “She’d want you to have it for the kindness you’ve shown me.  I think she would’ve liked you a lot.”  

Namjoon seems in no hurry to say anything after that, simply watching on as you try to figure out what to do or what to say when faced with such unexpected sweetness from one so unlikely.  You settle for a smile and a thank you, one that he receives with a slight incline of his head and a squeeze of your hands.  

Eventually the way Namjoon’s looking at you becomes too intense for you to bare and you have to look away, clearing your throat and failing when you try to slip your hands out of his.

“I should get really finish planting-”

“I like you a lot.” Namjoon interrupts, pulling your conjoined hands into his lap instead of yours, shifting even closer so your hips meet, his whole body twisted to face you as much as he’s physically able.  You blink, completely caught off guard by his sudden confession and the sincerity with which he said it.  What do you say to that?  Not so long ago Namjoon didn’t even want you here, and now here he is gazing at you like you’re a sight to behold and he’s uttering your name, letting go of one of your hands to cradle your cheek in his palm.  

Before you can even process what’s happening Namjoon’s suddenly leaning towards you, his eyes falling closed, and then his lips are pressing against yours in a gentle, hesitant kiss that makes your heart jump up into your throat.  

For a second you’re struck dumb, just letting him kiss you, the shock keeping your eyes pinned wide open until you start to realise just how nice his lips feel, just how supple and soft they are, and now you’re kissing him back too.  You’re not even thinking, your mind blank save for noting how delicious his mouth tastes when he slides his tongue into yours.  His hand has wandered from your cheek and into your hair, his fingernails scraping at your scalp, dragging through the roots, and the longer the kiss goes on the more handsy he’s starting to get, grabbing onto your thigh through your jeans.  

Namjoon pulls back just enough to speak, his lips swollen and shiny from how long you’ve been kissing.  You’d lost track of time while it was happening, but it was long enough for you to start throbbing between your legs, that’s for sure. His eyes are dark, lust flickering in them as he gently tugs on your hair to tilt your chin up.  

“You taste so sweet,” he tells you huskily, licking your saliva from his lips, “Though I know you taste even sweeter elsewhere.”  Everything clenches inside you; of course Namjoon already knows how you taste, he’s already sucked your juices off his fingers once before, and you can tell he’s got the same thing on his mind when his hand slides upwards to start pressing the heel of it against you through the crotch of your jeans.  

You almost jump when you feel something brush against your leg.  Namjoon doesn’t seem to notice it, too busy pressing kiss after kiss to the small amount of neck he can access with his sister’s scarf wound around it, but when you cast your eyes downward you see Nova sat at your feet, staring up at the two of you.  It’s probably entirely your own paranoia that makes you feel like she’s silently judging you, but it’s enough to help sufficiently clear your head and remember the rules that you’d promised Jimin you’d abide by.  

You swallow back a groan and attempt to speak.

“Namjoon, we need- I need-”  You’re trying to tell him that you need permission first, before this goes any further, but the thought of asking Jimin to share you with Namjoon suddenly seems entirely absurd when you remember how the two of them haven't even spoken since the incident that led to all this.  There’s no way he’d ever agree to it, not over his dead body.  

“Yes little one?” he growls into your ear, nose pressed into your hair, “Tell me what you need.”  

“I n-need you to stop,” you mutter, trying to be strong and resist how wonderful it feels to have this gorgeous, enigmatic vampire’s hands and mouth all over you.  “Stop,” you repeat with renewed conviction, and to Namjoon’s credit he does this time, sitting back but letting his hands linger on your thighs restlessly.  “I can’t do this.”  You opt for straight-forward honestly - it’s not worth beating around the bush with this, not when you know just how badly it’d upset Jimin to find out.  

A flicker of something passes over Namjoon’s face, so fast that you can’t identify it.

“But you can with Yoongi- hyung and Tae -ah ?” he asks, eyes narrowing slightly.   How the hell does he know about that?  Namjoon wasn’t even anywhere near Taehyung’s room that night - at least not to your knowledge.   As if reading you’re mind, Namjoon continues,  “I know everything that goes on in my house, little one.”  His voice seems to have lost some of it’s silky softness from before now too, beginning to sound a little curt, a little irritable.

“That was different,” you try to reason, licking your lips nervously. Oh, you wish you weren’t able to taste him there.  “Jimin gave me permission…”

“For you to whore yourself around like an all-you-can-drink buffet for everyone else but me, is that it?”  Wow.  Namjoon really doesn’t take rejection well, does he?  He’s still holding onto your hands though, albeit harder now, your knuckles grinding as he squeezes them.  You’d expected him to be hurt, maybe even a little mad, but you weren’t expecting this kind of reaction at all, and it instantly gets your back up.  

“Only Jimin feeds from me,” you say sharply, eager to defend yourself from such harsh words.  You’d thought that you and Namjoon were past all this; that he was your friend?  Maybe he hasn’t changed so much after all...  “He’d never to agree to anything between you and me, not after what happened.”  You watch as his jaw clenches, the tendons in his neck straining under the skin, and pain shoots up your arms as his grip becomes even tighter.  “Namjoon... Joonie, you’re hurting me!”  

Abruptly he lets go, releasing your hands and looking down at them with widened eyes and an opened mouth, all the anger you’d seen in him a second ago completely disappearing as he realises what he’s done.  You clasp your hands together, rubbing them to try and ease the way they’re aching now the blood’s come rushing back.  

“I’m sorry,” he apologises, scooping your hands up in his own and lifting them to his mouth to kiss each and every one of your knuckles despite your worried look, his eyes locked on yours, searching for forgiveness that you’re all too quick to give when he apologises again.  He just looks so sincere that you can’t help but give in, captivated by that dark, deep gaze of his that sees right through you.  You’re too soft, and he knows it.  

When he finally lets go Namjoon sighs your name, dropping his head and shaking it slightly before looking up again, the twinkling of the fairy lights reflected back at you in his eyes.

“I can give you so much more than him… love you more than he ever could,” he tells you quietly, “I’d make you my Queen, little one, and you’d look so perfect by my side.”  Namjoon touches your cheek briefly and you swallow, your eyes flicking between his as you try to take everything it all in.

How can he be saying all this?  Yes, you’ve been kind to him lately, cared for him, but how could he switch from hating you to… this in such a short space of time?

“I’d keep you so satisfied you wouldn’t even need to look at another man, I promise you that.”   He snarls this last part, a decidedly jealous tone entering into his voice, one that worries you and sends a chill running down your spine.  

Does he really think you’d leave Jimin for him?  You hadn’t meant to mislead him with any of your kindness or compassion, and whilst you’ve always found Namjoon inexplicably attractive you’d never let the thought of a relationship with him even cross your mind. He’s too volatile for that; this conversation alone is proof enough.  

“Namjoon,” you begin hesitantly, trying to steel yourself for his inevitably bad reaction to what you’re about to say, “I’m not going to leave Jimin, whether it be for you or anyone else.  I love him, and I won’t hurt him like that.”   There, you said it.  Bracing yourself, you look up from the floor you’d been speaking to and up to Namjoon’s face, expecting to see anger waiting there for you but finding only a blank, cool expression.  There’s silence in which Namjoon regards you impassively, and despite his lack of reaction you find yourself fidgeting uncomfortably.  This is even worse than if he’d started yelling; at least you’ve seen and dealt with that before.  

“I see,” he says finally.  Just those two words and nothing more, the line of his mouth set in an unflinchingly straight line, his gaze just as steady and unnerving.  

Nova decides to meow, rubbing against your leg again, and even though you know it’s only to get your attention in order to tell you she’s hungry, you could kiss her whiskered little face for providing such a perfect excuse to escape this increasingly awkward situation.  

“She’s hungry,” you blurt out too eagerly, picking her up in your arms and standing from the fountain-side, avoiding looking at Namjoon as best you can given the weight of his stare, “I’d better take her in and get her fed.”  You’re halfway out of the garden before you realise you’re still wearing Geongmin’s scarf, and despite all your instincts just telling you to leave you still end up turning back.   “I shouldn’t keep this.”

Namjoon rises from his seat and approaches you slowly, his footsteps falling silently until he stands before you, looking down.  He takes hold of your chin,  a light smirk appearing on his face as you gasp at his touch.  Despite everything you just said and however much you may mean it you still can’t help the way your body responds to him, and it’s as frustrating as it is embarrassing.  

“You’ll come to me one day, little one, whether you intend to or not.  Even your blood’s calling out for me.”  He drags his thumb across your bottom lip and once more you shudder, your eyes flopping closed.  “Can’t you feel it thudding through your veins?”  He’s right and you know it - you can even hear it roaring through your ears, threatening to deafen you as feel him lean in even closer.  Namjoon’s mouth finds yours once more, gifting you with a kiss so fleeting that when you open up your eyes and see that he’s no longer there that you wonder whether it had even ever happened at all.  

Chapter Text

You do return to the garden to finish your night’s work eventually, once you’re certain you’ve given it enough time for Namjoon to have well and truly moved on.  You’d sat on Jimin’s bed whilst Nova ate, absent-mindedly wrapping the strands of Namjoon’s scarf around your fingers as you’d stared off into space, trying to get your head around what’d just happened. By the time you’d stepped back outside you were still none the wiser about what to do next.  

Namjoon’s made so much progress lately that you don’t want undo it all by avoiding him and isolating him again, but neither do you want him to get the wrong idea and think you’ve changed your mind about pursuing about a romantic relationship.  If Jimin was open to it and all Namjoon wanted was to have for you for a night here and there then of course you’d be on board with that.  It’s not like you’re oblivious to the sexual chemistry between the two of you - if you ever did end up in bed with him you’re sure it’d be an occasion worthwhile remembering, to say the least - but the things Namjoon said don’t make it sound like a casual hook-up is all he’s interested in.  It’s like he wants to own you, and that could be a problem given how you’ve already got two possessive men in your life, especially when Namjoon really doesn’t seem like the sort to share.

When you’re finally done your head’s aching just as much as the rest of you.  You drag yourself inside, grimacing with every step, fully intending to have a good long soak in the bath before Jimin gets home to make yourself feel better, but when you get there you gleefully realise you’re too late.  He’s already home, earlier than usual, and already partway through changing out of his blood-stained clothes.  

“You’re home early!”  you observe happily, grinning when his head reappears from underneath his t-shirt.  His hair’s a mess but he looks adorable, and the smile he greets you with lights up his whole face as you walk into his arms for a much needed embrace.

“You know what Taehyung’s like; he might be messy but at least he’s fast.”

“Amen.”  You feel Jimin nuzzle his face into your hair and hear him inhale as he squeezes where his arms are wrapped around your shoulders, but just as you’re starting to get comfy he releases you, wrinkling his nose.

“You’ve got soil in your hair.”  

“I do?”  You pat the top of your head as Jimin chuckles at you, picking it out for you with an affectionate gleam in his eyes.  “I’ve been out in the garden all night - I was just about to head into the tub.”  

“What a coincidence - so was I.”  Jimin’s smile grows as he swiftly begins to undo his belt to remove his pants.  You can’t help but giggle at how eager he is when he reaches out to you, a sight to behold tood there in just his boxers and nothing else, clearly intending to even out the score.  He starts to pull at Namjoon’s scarf, but the very moment he touches it his hands fall still, his grip on the soft fabric loosening.  “I’ve seen this before…” he says quietly, almost to himself, a frown forming on his face.  Panic grips your chest, squeezing your ribcage so tight it feels a struggle to breathe.  “Who gave you this?”  No point in lying; Namjoon’s scent is practically woven into the wool, and if you can smell it then Jimin must certainly be able to too.  

“He just didn’t want me to get cold,” you reply, chewing on the inside of your cheek nervously.  Jimin’s eyebrows remain lowered as he turns the length of the scarf over in his hands, his eyes fixed on it, quietly thoughtful.  

“Did he tell you this belonged to his sister?”

“He might have mentioned it…”  He nods shortly and then begins to unwind it from your neck, his expression difficult to read.  You’d anticipated jealousy or anger but if anything Jimin just looks a little worried as he takes it from your shoulders.    

“You two have gotten closer just lately, haven’t you?” Jimin asks calmly, placing the scarf on the set of drawers nearby and then coming back to start unbuttoning your blouse like you’re not right in the middle of a conversation that could be classed as awkward at best.  

“I guess,” you answer non-committedly, shrugging your shoulders as his hands pass over them, slipping off your top, “It’s not like… y’know… I know you wouldn’t like that.  We just talk about books… and stuff.”  Ok, so it’s not the whole truth but it’s pretty damn close, and besides, you have no intention of doing anything you shouldn’t - and Namjoon knows that too.  Sort of.

“I know.”  He gently touches your face, a smile tugging at his lips for just a moment before he starts to work on removing your jeans too.  “I trust you, and it’s good that Namjoon- hyung is coming down from his tower once in awhile.”  Jimin slides your jeans down over your hips and chivalrously squats down to help you step out of them, foot by foot.  “But just… be careful.  He has a tendency to get fixated on things, obsessive, and I just don’t want him to mistake your kindness and friendship for more than it is.”   An unsettling sensation comes over you as Jimin speaks, like cold water trickling down your spine, but you try your best to look un-phased as he straightens up again, faking a smile.

That’s not what’s happening is it?  Sure, Namjoon seems to have a little bit of a crush on you, but it’s harmless, right?  Just a misunderstanding that was settled with that conversation in the garden… that conversation that ended with him kissing you for a second time.  Ugh, what a mess.  

Jimin places his hands on either side of your neck, thumbs brushing your cheeks as he steps towards you, bringing your half-naked bodies into contact.  

“He’s powerful, kitten, and he’s used to getting his own way.  I can’t be here to protect you all the time.”   You hope he doesn’t notice the hairs on your arms rise…

“You really believe he’s dangerous, Jimin?  You two used to be friends.”  

“A long time ago.”  Jimin sighs heavily, his shoulders lifting and falling with the weight of it.  “I would’ve never believed my friend would seek out a vampire, or murder his parents or…” He trails off, shaking his head.  “But here we are.  I don’t know what he’s capable of, or whether he’s dangerous or not, but I won’t risk losing you.”  You can see the emotion in his eyes as he leans in to kiss you, and when your lips meet you can feel your heart thud hard in your chest, your love for him flowing through your veins with every beat.  

“I’ll be careful then,” you promise as you part, uttering it softly against his mouth, your eyes still closed.  “Love you, Jiminie.”

“I love you too.”  He smiles, his hands leaving your neck to take yours instead, pulling you towards the bathroom.  “Let’s go get cleaned up.”  

 

Although what Jimin had said undoubtedly shook you up a little, it was all too easy to forget about once he pulled you into the tub him.  He’d been so sweet and attentive as he’d cleaned you both up, his gentle hands gliding over every little inch of you beneath the water and the bubbles, and though his touch had started out as perfectly innocent it didn’t take long to turn into something more - as it always does.  

Impatient to have you Jimin had scooped you out of the bath and carried you back to his bed still dripping wet to sully and soil you once again.  He’d taken you from behind, pressed flat on your stomach and tugging on the sheets as you came again and again, a whimpering mess by the time Jimin had finished too, with a grunt and a groan and his fingers knotted in your hair.  

And now you’re lying in a myriad of wet patches with Jimin panting at your side, your hands intertwined in the space between you.  You don’t know what’s bath water or bodily fluids, but honestly you don’t care.  You’ve never been happier than when you’re in the middle of a Jimin-induced post-coital glow, and the look on your face when your turn your head to gaze at him is one of a love that borders on infatuation.  Thankfully Jimin looks just as besotted, staring back at you with a small smile playing on his lips, squeezing your hand in his.  

“We’re probably gonna need to change these sheets before we go to sleep,” he comments after a minute or too, no longer breathless.  His hair’s a complete and utter mess, still damp enough to be shiny but too dry to be in any way salvageable in terms of style.   Not that yours is probably any better.

“I think you’re probably right,”  you smile back, fighting back the yawn that threatens to overcome you and failing miserably in the process.  Jimin’s smile has grown wider when you finally manage to stop it and after giving your hand one more final squeeze he sits up, pulling you with him.  

“C’mon, looks like we need to do it sooner rather than later.”  You groan as Jimin fetches clean bed linen from the closet, refusing to even get up off the mattress until he’s pulling out the sheet from under you.  You hate changing the bed; it always takes your far longer than it probably should, and at some point you always end up with the pillowcases inside out, or get lost amongst the giant duvet cover, turning yourself into an accidental ghost.  Why can’t he just have a second clean, dry bed that you can hop straight into, rather than faffing about with all this?   

Now that you think about it, though, you do have a second bed that you know you’re always welcome in, one that’s right down the hall and contains certain someone you’ve been missing all day.  Would now be an appropriate moment to ask?  Jimin does seem as though he’s in a particularly good mood - he always is after sex - so perhaps there’s no time like the present?  

“Daddy…” you begin cautiously, picking up a pillow and busying yourself in changing it in order to avoid looking at him as you pose the question.  

“Yes, kitten?” he responds, and you can hear the amusement in your voice.  He knows that slightly whiny tone of yours well enough by now to know that you’re about to ask for something, although you very much doubt he’s going to have anticipated this.  

“Would it be alright… if I go sleep with Yoongi- oppa tonight?”  

“It’s ‘Yoongi -oppa’ now, is it?” You risk a glance up, relieved that he still sounds more amused than anything else, and when you do you see that he’s got an eyebrow raised at you as he fixes the pillows across the other side of the bed too.  “Three times not enough for you, hmm?”  You end up blushing and looking away again, frowning when you realise that you have indeed put the pillowcase on inside-out.  Every god-damn time.  

“I didn’t mean for that,” you explain, but when Jimin scoffs you can’t help but smile sheepishly, admitting, “Ok, maybe for that too, but he’d asked a couple weeks back if I’d like to spend the night with him.  The whole night.”  There’s a pause in which you can feel your heart beating a little faster than usual, pulse fluttering in your neck as you wait for his response.  

“Would you like to?”  Jimin plonks his pillows back down on the bed, his hands preoccupied but his eyes fixed on your face, observing every little flicker of emotion you give away.  

“I guess… yeah.  I think I would.”  You place your pillow down neatly too, trying to calmly maintain eye contact even though you’re bracing yourself for a potential hissy fit should it occur.  Jimin looks back at you a while longer, his face giving nothing away as he smooths the duvet back in place, and then walks back around to your side of the bed and takes your hands, lifting them to his mouth to kiss them.  

“Ok, kitten.  I guess I can manage without you for just one night.”   He places another kiss atop of your knuckles and then cocks his head, smiling sweetly.  “I’ll miss having you here, though.  It doesn’t feel right falling asleep without you anymore.”  You smile back, warmed from top to toe by his sickly sweet sentiment, tilting forward to steal a kiss from his lips, too.  

“I’m sure Nova will keep you company,” you tease as he releases you, setting about finding yourself some nightwear decent enough to wear through the house on your way to Yoongi’s room.  You should probably pack a mini night bag, actually, now that you think about it.  

Jimin climbs into bed on your side, watching you get your things together with a thoughtful look on his face, and by the time you’re all set he’s practically pouting, making grabby hands at you as you walk over in your cutest of pyjama sets, smiling down at him.  

“I changed my mind, you can’t go,” he whines cutely, tugging on your top to pull you down into another kiss, one that lingers and makes your heart race a little.

“I’ll see you when we wake up,” you assure softly, pulling out of his grasp, “You can even come fetch me, if you want.”

“I might do,” he grins, “Come steal you away again.”

“That’s fine with me.”  You start to make for the door, grabbing your little toiletry bag as you go but then pausing, turning back.  “I don’t think I’ve really got the energy… but would it be ok if we do end up sleeping together?  If he wants to?”  Jimin chuckles, leaning back into the pillows with his head cocked to the side.  

“He’ll want to, kitten, of course he will.”  You blush, shuffling a little on the spot.  “But yes, it’d be ok.”  

“Thank you daddy.”  You smile shyly, scurrying over for just one more kiss from those perfect lips of his before wishing him sweet dreams and taking your leave, trying to ignore the pang of guilt you feel when he wishes you a somewhat subdued sounding goodnight as you close his door.

 

Yoongi's door is slightly ajar when you get there but you still pause to knock, more out of politeness than anything else, because even when you get no answer you still go inside, knowing he won't mind.   

Gongjunim!”  Surprise heightens his pitch when he sees you walk through the door, and as you smile and approach the bed on which he resides, Yoongi pushes himself up to sit straighter amongst the pillows, removing his headphones.  “I thought you said I wouldn't see you today.”

“Well, I changed my plans.”  You pop your little bag onto his bedside table before clambering over to lie next to him, slinging your arm over his body, careful to avoid the laptop resting on his lap.  He doesn’t look as though he expects the kiss you greet him with, and when you pull away he's smiling goofily, gums on display.  

“Isn't Jimin home already?  What time is it?” You squint at his laptop screen, looking at the time display in the bottom corner underneath some bizarre korean computer software he's clearly been engrossed in during your absence.  

“4:32, I believe.”  You place another brief kiss on his cheek, overwhelmed with feelings of affection for the boy that's now furrowing his brow as though he's trying to understand why you're here with him and not with Jimin.  “I asked if I could stay the night with you, Oppa.”  

“And he said you could?”  

“Well I'm here, aren't I?” you grin, slipping your hand under his t-shirt to run your hand up and down his side, wrinkling the maroon fabric as you go.

“I guess you are,” Yoongi smiles, eyes sparkling with happiness as he places a kiss to the top of your head.  He lets out a contented sigh as he feels you snuggle into him getting comfy, and you watch on as he returns to whatever he was doing, long fingers gliding over the laptop’s touchpad.  

“What’re you up to?”  you ask after a moment.

“Just working on some beats.”  So he's still making music then?  You're so pleased that he is; you'd worried that after that incident in the kitchen with his lyrics he'd just given up.  He pulls the headphone jack out of the laptop, clicking on the touchpad a couple of times until music starts to play.  You’ve only been listening a second or two when you feel Yoongi’s arm settle around your shoulder, soothingly rubbing his thumb back and forth along your skin as he holds you close.

“Sounds really good. I like it - especially that hook,” you tell him, something that feels a lot like pride blossoming deep in your chest when you see the shy smile that appears on Yoongi’s face.  

“Yeah?”  You nod quickly and enthusiastically, hoping he can tell you're sincere. You're really not just humouring him; although it's a little rough around the edges it's still got a good sound and your fingers are tapping along on Yoongi’s ribs all of their own accord.  “I've been swapping some emails with a local MC… he wants to hear some more of my stuff.”

“That’s amazing!” you gush, smiling from ear to ear as you sit to twist round and look at him properly.  The way he shrugs is a little dismissive, like he's purposefully not letting himself get too excited or get his hopes up.  

“It’s early days,” he says, ever the cynic, turning the music off with a tap of his finger and closing the laptop up to put it on the floor next to the bed.  

“Yeah but it’s still exciting,” you insist, sitting cross-legged opposite him, beaming so hard that Yoongi finally lets a smile slip.   How could he not, when faced with such overwhelming enthusiasm?  “I’m so proud of you, Oppa .”

Yoongi reaches over to pull you into his lap, gathering you up in his arms to cocoon you as best he can with him small, slim frame and then kisses you passionately, pressing his firm lips to yours over and over again.   He holds you close as you wrap your arms around his neck, happily letting him breach your mouth to play with your tongue and letting out a breathy sigh of pleasure when he nips at your bottom lip.  He chuckles at the needy sound, breaking your kiss but leaving your foreheads touching in place to speak.  

“It’s all thanks to you, princess,” Yoongi confesses softly, drawn to kiss your lips just once more before continuing to speak, “I wouldn’t be doing any of this without you here to inspire me.”  You don’t know what to say; all you can do is blush and smile, biting on your lip until he kisses it again.  It’s hard not to become overwhelmed by the warm, happy glow you feel inside, to resist telling him those three little words that are hanging on the tip of your tongue when he pulls away to look at you with those adoring eyes.  

How can you feel this way about him when you’re already in love with Jimin?   It doesn’t make any sense to you, all these conflicting emotions, all these thoughts running around your head. Before meeting Jimin you’d never been in love at all, and now here you are, desperately in love with two men at once.  Does it make you a bad person, to be telling Jimin that you love him and meaning it just moments ago, to now be longing to tell Yoongi exactly the same?  Before now you’d thought love was a purely monogamous affair - at least that’s how the movies always made it seem - but maybe it’s not so straight forward after all.  

“Are you alright?” Yoongi asks gently, pushing back hair from your face with a worried look, and it’s only then that you realise you’ve been frowning, lost in your thoughts.   

“I-I’m fine,” you say dismissively, planting another kiss on him before slipping out of his lap and off of the bed, grabbing your little bag off the table.  It’s best that you remove yourself from temptation for just a moment, you think, before you admitting something that you don’t even yet fully understand.  “I’m just gonna go brush my teeth.”  

He nods, standing from the bed too and starting to strip from his clothes in readiness for sleep, and even though you’ve seen him naked a few times now you still feel like you should be averting your eyes -  not that you do.  In fact you’re almost downright staring on your way past him to the bathroom, your fingers itching to touch his milky pale skin, and Yoongi sends you a meaningful look as he slips down his sweats, his cock already hanging semi-hard against his thigh.  

“Don’t be long.”  

Chapter Text

You swear you can't have been in the bathroom more than ten or fifteen minutes getting yourself ready for bed, but apparently those ten or fifteen were too long because when you step back into Yoongi's room the boy’s already fast asleep.  The pang of disappointment you feel at missing out on the chance for intimacy only lasts for a second because it's impossible to focus on anything other than just how sweet he looks, lying there butt naked on the bed, eyes closed and breathing slow.  He didn't even make it under the covers - just curled himself up in a ball instead, one arm under the pillow - so he must’ve been pretty damn tired.  

How long had he actually been awake before he’d crashed?  You know it’s not unlike Yoongi to pull an all-nighter when he's engrossed in something, so this might well be the first time he's shut his eyes in days.  Keeping that in mind you try to be extra quiet as you approach the bed, gingerly pulling back the covers and repressing a soft laugh when your eyes land on various bits of paper and pens that he'd obviously forgotten were there.  

You collect all the papers up, almost failing to realise that amongst them is the page you'd seen him writing on in the kitchen until it's actually in your hand - the page he'd torn out and crumpled up when you'd argued.  You'd presumed he'd thrown it away but here it is, and though it's still slightly creased you can tell Yoongi tried the smooth it out and salvage it once he'd calmed down.  It looks like it's gotten longer, too, more lines of his slightly untidy scrawl following on from the rest of the indecipherable characters above.   You wish you could know what it says but finding out would require waking him, and you couldn't bare to do that.  Putting curiosity aside you settle for placing it all the floor next to his laptop, smiling to yourself.  It means a lot that he'd kept it even when he was angry… he really does care about you, doesn't he?

You climb into bed next to him, taking one last sneaky look at his body before pulling the sheets up and over both of you, relieved when he doesn't stir.  You rest there for a while, lying on your side facing him, enjoying being able to stare as much as you want without the fear of being caught out doing it, but the longer you look the stronger your urge becomes to touch him.  It's all-consuming, this desire to feel his skin on yours, and after a shamefully small amount of consideration you start to undress yourself, slipping off your pyjamas under the covers and tossing them onto the ever growing pile of stuff next to the bed till you're as naked as he is, slightly breathless at just the thought of lying together so intimately.  

Carefully you shuffle closer, inch by inch, till you're near enough that your bodies are almost touching.  You move down the bed until you're low enough to tuck your head under Yoongi’s chin, your cheek resting against his cool skin, chests pressed together, and it's only when you place your arm over him that he stirs even slightly.  He mumbles something and then copies your gesture, his arm draping over your hip and pulling you closer to him in his sleep.  Your heart flutters with happiness; it feels like heaven to have him hold you like this, to know such peaceful contentment in his arms.  

Does he feel the same way as you do, you wonder? You can't help but muse about if his heart could beat whether it'd be galloping just as hard as yours is now, or whether he too is holding back from saying the same ‘I love you’s’.  Sometimes you think you can see it in Yoongi’s eyes when he looks at you - unspoken but there all the same - but what if you're wrong?  What if you're just projecting what you feel onto him and imagining this to be more than it is?  

You nuzzle closer to his chest, inhaling his cool, crisp scent as your eyes close and your arm around tightens its hold around his slim frame.  Whatever this might be with you and Yoongi, however complicated it might be, all you can think about whilst you swiftly fall asleep is how you don't ever want it to end.  

 

His lips are on your neck, pressing featherlight kisses from the angle of your jaw to the slope of your shoulder and leaving goosebumps in his wake as he goes.  His hands trail down your arms, barely touching until they settle on your hips, halting the tremble that was running through you.  

“Open your eyes, little one.” Namjoon’s voice is like silk as it drifts into your ear, his visage magnificent as he stands behind you, holding your gaze captive in the mirror.  He smirks at your gasp of surprise, keeping his eyes fixed on yours as he lowers his mouth to your neck to suck on delicate skin your collar would usually cover, littering you with his own marks of possession.  His hands leave your hips, gliding up your naked stomach to cup your breasts, rolling them gently in his palms as you watch, transfixed, a little voice in your mind that’s far too easily silenced wondering how on earth you ended up here.  

“You're lying to yourself,” he wh