harrowreads

[harrowreads]

i have been planning on reading this for at least 100 years, and i am very excited to get into it finallyyyy!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!! 🤸‍♀️🤸‍♀️🤸‍♀️

this fic is a lot of fun. both men are cheeky and devious, but they are very much in tune to the way mc feels even when they are playing the roles of being pushy/assertive. it never feels like she is forced to do anything she doesn't want to do, but there is that balance struck where, as long as she is into what is going on, she is at the whim of the men.

there is a lot to enjoy here!!!!!!!

real time screeching/spoilers under the cut!!!

i feel a kinship to this mc already. i also would not want to deal with mountain-dwelling murderers and <fear i refuse to name> either!!!

“Me?! A murderer? Maybe murdering hearts with my good looks, but a murderer of people? Too much work, no thank you.” He shuffles his shoes off at the door, shedding his jacket and scarf as well. Namjoon grabs his luggage to bring upstairs before turning to face you. 

even if i didn't know it was Seokjin at the door, his fussiness would have given him away.

“So, what? You planned to be an attractive distraction to prevent said murder?”

i love when i can hear the writer's voice in the mc's dialogue. your opening scene bickering is so clear in my mind hehehe. which is not to say you are bickery. it's just to say that you and mc are identically adorable.

Yoongi was out immediately. You both knew too much about him

idk why this is so funny but i laughed really loud and made Olive's ears go airplane mode.

“You’re such a brat, aren’t you? Do you listen to Namjoon when he tells you to do something?”

LMAO 💀 BYE!!!

“I swear to God, if you somehow brought Yoongi into this, I’m ending this relationship.” 

it's funny because Boongi is 🤏 smol.

LINGERIE AHHHH. "what if i sweat?" is so real. i would definitely play it off like "you boys stay here i have to pee quick" and then rush to change out of my regular sweaty chonis and into the pretty ones lmao.

~ i am going to take a break to sleep. it is 333. i love youuu!!! ~

OKAY GOOD MORNINGGGG (it's 12:04 hehehe) let's do thiss!!!

the snow is making me so homesick 😭😭😭 a few times we have gotten a cabin in the winter but it has been close to here so it's never that cold. but i am always underdressed while everyone looks like they are ready for war against snow monsters. (only i wouldn't get too cold haha i was always fine.) good times. i wanna do that again.

OKAY SO I GOTTA SAY. i love that mc is into it but shows a hint of feeling reluctant and shy. i feel like that is a common experience that isn't quite written every time. and i feel like, to the inexperienced person it could come off as the men being too pushy, but to me it doesn't feel that way. i have been in this situation a few times, and if it is something that has been discussed ahead of time, i become such a shy little baby. like what do you MEAN i have to think about it happening before it happens?!?!?!?!?!?!?!!??! can't we just mindlessly dive into something possibly relationship-altering without having to confront reality????????????? AHHHHHHHHHHHHHHHHH!!!!!! but imagine if it were Namjoon and Seokjin???????????????????????? i wouldn't be able to form one ☝ coherent thought.

NAMJOON WRAPPING THE UNDERWEAR AROUND HIS DI--

bye haha.

i need a moment.

i'm--

😅😅😅 HHAHAHAHAHKDHSKDHAKDHAHDAKDHA 😩

“So…what now?” 

hahahaha. famous last words.

OH BOY, INDEED hehehe.

KELLYYYY this was a lot of fun!!! i lost track of the review while the smut was happening, but it was great. the communication was a lot of fun, and it is evident that there is trust between these characters, which is so important!!!

thank you for sharing this piece with us!!!!!!!!

now off to read the sequel draft muahahahaha 😈😈😈

Swiss Miss | KSJ & KNJ

Pairing: Namjoon x (f) reader x Seokjin 

Genre: smut, some fluff, more smut?

AU: established relationship

Wordcount: 8.9k

Summary: Your boyfriend, Namjoon, takes you on a Christmas vacation. Your present, however, is his best friend. The man you had a crush on for years before meeting Namjoon. 

Rating: M / 18+ 

Warnings: language and a whole lotta smut. 

Smut Warnings: Threesome. Pet names (Baby and princess). Namjoon’s a kinky man. Voyeurism? Does this make Namjoon a cuckold? Oral (both m & f receiving) unprotected sex. Creampies. Multiple orgasms. Overstimulation. I’m sure I’m forgetting more but my brain is mush and it’s Christmas.

AN: IT’S HERE Y’ALL! Baby’s first threesome. It's a little all over the place because I'm insane and have been freaking out about it for well over a month. This is my bangtan secret santa gift for B @yoongimingyu Hi, B! It’s your favorite Buddy that sucks at sending messages. I hope you like it. I’ve never written a threesome but the second they said I had you and you had Namjoon and Jin down as the favorites, I knew it had to be and had been working on it since. I hope you have a lovely holiday and I love you. 💜

Thank you @playmetheclassics for dealing with my insanity and my freak outs and beta-ing on christmas eve. You are amazing and I don't deserve people like you.

Banner and Divider by @classicscreations

Masterlist | AskBox | Coffee?

“Jooooooooon. Wake up. Someone’s at the door.” You shook your boyfriend awake while cowering under the blankets. 

He decided to take you on a Christmas vacation to a cabin in the mountains of Switzerland for whatever crazy reason. You tried politely telling him you didn’t want to go, noting the various valid reasons why it’d be a bad idea: 

Psychopath mountain-dwelling murderers. Wendigos. (you played that stupid Until Dawn game a few months ago, and it’s been haunting you since) Lack of cell service. It’s cold. And let’s not forget to mention the mountain-dwelling murderers again. Like the one at your cabin’s front door right now. 

But he kept on countering your valid reasons with logical reasons why your reasons were wrong, and so you reluctantly agreed because you can’t argue with logic, no matter how much you hate it. 

It was fun so far. You two had been there just under a week and explored a small town nearby while gathering supplies. Namjoon forced you to come hiking with him because it hadn’t snowed yet, and he thought it’d be a great view. You both immediately regretted it when it got even colder as you got higher up, turning back to stay cuddled up in the cabin. 

You poke Namjoon repeatedly, ignoring his groans of complaint. When he still won’t budge, you pull your pillow out from under you and give one light, but angry, smack across his face with it. 

“What the fuck?!” He finally sits up, looking at you in utter disbelief. “Why’d you smack me?!” 

As if answering the question for you, four rapid knocks come from the front door downstairs. Your eyes widen in fear and pure anger as you gesture to the direction of the sound. 

“I told you this was a bad idea. I told you about the mountain-dwelling murderers and the fucking Wendigos. You said they weren’t real, and now one’s at our front door! So you go be the big brave boyfriend and kick his ass!” 

While you give your angry little rant, Namjoon grabs his phone, checking his messages. He was right, at least about there being cell service. He smirks at his phone, getting up and shoving it in his pocket. Slipping his feet into some slippers and putting a sweater on. 

“Wait, where are you going?! You don’t have a weapon!” You shriek, pulling the blankets off you and rushing to him, not caring that you’re wearing just one of his giant shirts and underwear. He stops at the doorway, turning to face your panicked expression with a grin. 

“Jagi. If it was a murderer or a Wendigo, they wouldn’t knock. They’d just come in and kill us both. We’re fine.” He turns back around, heading to the front door, but you continue to follow. 

“Nuh-uh! Some murderers get off on playing with their prey! He could pretend to be all nice and clueless and then bam, dead.” You continue your rant of random documentaries you’ve watched and how the killers manipulated their victims, Namjoon barely paying attention but nodding anyway as he reaches the front door. 

“I promise you. It’s not a murderer. Your gift came early.”

“My gift?” Your head cocks to the side. Who the hell delivers mail in the middle of the night? And in the mountains? And on Christmas Eve? Technically, Christmas Day since it’s two in the morning. 

“Your gift,” he repeats, opening the door to reveal a tall, broad shouldered figure. 

“What the hell took you so long?! It’s freezing out here! I could’ve died!” The familiar voice sounds off, forcing his way inside, luggage dragging behind him. 

“Sorry, hyung. We were asleep, and she thought you were a murderer.” 

“Me?! A murderer? Maybe murdering hearts with my good looks, but a murderer of people? Too much work, no thank you.” He shuffles his shoes off at the door, shedding his jacket and scarf as well. Namjoon grabs his luggage to bring upstairs before turning to face you. 

“Jin?” You question as if it were an illusion or a weird fever dream. 

“Aren’t you cold?” He answers your question with one of his own. You follow his eyes, looking down at your bare legs, Namjoon’s shirt ending just over the middle of your thighs. 

“I had to make sure he didn’t get killed.” You quickly respond, avoiding the flustering heat in your cheeks and the way Jin’s eyes stay on your thighs. 

“So, what? You planned to be an attractive distraction to prevent said murder?”

“No, I was in a rush to—” you shake your head, ending that conversation.

“Wait. What are you even doing here? And what do you mean ‘my gift’?” You look at Namjoon, who looks at Seokjin, and both grin like they have a secret. 

“I invited him. He’s your gift. We’ll explain tomorrow. For now, let’s go back to sleep.” 

You want to argue back, but you’re cold, half naked, and now that the adrenaline from earlier has subsided, you want nothing more than to sleep under the heavy blankets. You slowly follow Namjoon showing Seokjin to his room, explaining the weird shower handles, helping get his fireplace started, and discussing the other weird quirks of cabin life. You stay just outside the doorway, watching the two interact, mainly focusing on your alleged gift of a man. 

You faintly hear a mention of taking a shower, and suddenly Seokjin’s shirt is coming off, and you have a perfect view of his broad shoulders, forcing you to rub your thighs together. Memories of your previous crush on him before dating Namjoon creeping their way back into your mind. 

As if he could hear your thoughts, Namjoon turns to face you, cupping your cheeks and giving you a small kiss while Seokjin heads to the bathroom. 

“Bed?” He quietly asks between soft kisses on your lips. 

You repeat the word back to him, a soft squeak escaping you when he picks you up, wrapping your legs around his waist. His large hands sneak their way up from his hold on your thighs to just under your ass, fingers toying with your underwear. 

“What are you doing?”

“Nothing.” He murmurs against your lips, walking back to the bedroom. 

“Liar.” His smile can be felt against your lips, and you have to pull away to glare at him, but really it’s an excuse to admire your favorite dimples in action. 

“I would never lie.” He sits you down on the bed, turning away from you to make sure the fireplace has enough wood to keep you both warm the rest of the night. 

“Oh, there’s another one!” You joke; he would never purposefully lie. That’s why you love him so much. He’s always honest, checking in, and always there when you need him. He’s perfect. 

“No, but really, why is Seokjin here?” You wait to ask when he’s crawling back under the covers, bringing you with him. Arms wrapped around your waist as you rest your head on his shoulder, lips quietly pressing soft kisses against his skin. 

“You’ll find out tomorrow.” 

“But it’s already Christmas. Tell me.” 

“No.”

“Tell me.”

“Stop.”

“Please?”

“No.”

“Pleeaaaasssseeeeeeee?” 

“You’re a brat. No.”

“Rude.”

“Thank you. Go to sleep.”

“Boo, you whore.”

He doesn’t respond, and you pout, moving to turnover and away from him for extra dramatics, but he’s not going to let you get away with that. Before you could turn over, his arms tighten around you, keeping you close. You huff, looking up at him. His eyes are shut as if he’s sleeping, with a smug little grin plastered on his face. 

When you wake up the next morning, Namjoon is no longer in your bed, holding you close. Instead, you’re alone in the giant bed, freezing under the sheets without your personal heater. 

You sit up, trying to keep all the blankets wrapped around you. The fireplace is still on, but not doing much, but at the foot of the bed is a neat pile of thick socks, sweatpants and a sweater. You quickly grab them, crawling back under the blankets to awkwardly put them on without being exposed to the cold air. 

You finally bring yourself to leave the bed and the room in search of the tantalizing smell of food in the kitchen, stopping on the stairs when you hear your name being whispered. 

“Are you sure y/n’s going to be okay with this? I feel like we should’ve run this by her first.” Seokjin’s voice is a little hesitant, almost nervous. 

“But then it wouldn’t be a surprise, and you wouldn’t be my big gift.” 

Seokjin scoffs dramatically. 

“Oh yeah, your big gift. You sure you didn’t forget to get her something in time, so you panicked and called me?” 

“Nope. I’ve had this planned from the moment she and I discussed it.”

It?

It?

Oh…oh boy. 

This can’t be really happening. 

You had mentioned months ago to your boyfriend of three years that you originally had a crush on Seokjin before your friend, Yoongi, introduced you to Namjoon. You had no idea all three were friends, so it was a shock when you brought Namjoon over to a get-together, and you didn’t have to introduce him because everyone already knew him before you. 

After various dates where you two clicked instantly, your crush on the older man faded to a back burner in the far corner of your mind, and you later realized you were completely head over heels in love with Namjoon. 

After three years of being together, you two had a casual conversation one night about kinks and fantasies you hadn’t explored with one another yet. He mentioned a threesome, and you said no because you didn’t want to share him with another girl. He surprised you by saying he wanted to have a threesome with another guy, saying you deserved to be worshiped twice as much. You liked the idea, and you both started a back-and-forth of who you’d let into your shared bed. 

Yoongi was out immediately. You both knew too much about him. But some rando at a bar was an automatic no. That would mean high risks of whatever they’ve got going on and having to go to a bar. Worst idea ever. 

But then Namjoon offhandedly (or so it seemed to be) mentioned Seokjin and your face went hot. And he teased you for the next few days, quips about your little crush still going strong for big Seokjin and asking what about him did it for you. The shoulders? The height? His lips? His hands? You groaned in annoyance every time, but also because he had you figured out perfectly. 

But when he suggested he ask Seokjin for the threesome, you were against it. He never showed any attraction towards you. There was no way he’d be interested. 

Right?

But then, what is he doing here?

You finally enter the kitchen when you hear the topic change to something unimportant, Namjoon is leaning against the counter with a bowl of oatmeal in hand. Seokjin is at the counter cooking something that smells amazing. You quietly rush to Namjoon’s side. 

“Ahh, there she is. And wearing pants this time, how unfortunate.” You look over to Seokjin, looking up from the stove with a smile on his perfectly gorgeous face, eyes on the disappointment that is your pants. 

“It’s cold.” You quickly respond, fingers wrapping around the side of Namjoon's shirt. As if it’s routine, his left arm instinctively lifts up, allowing you to cuddle next to him while it finds its home around your waist to keep you close. 

“That’s why we have all the fireplaces going, princess.” 

Your face flushes at the nickname he hasn’t used in years, and you avoid his gaze as you quickly try to change the subject. You look out the window and see white.

“Snow!” You do a little hop in your place against your boyfriend, who hums in amusement. 

“Yes, that’s why you’re cold, Jagi.”

“Yeah, but I mean actual falling snow. And on Christmas Day!” You break away from Namjoon, running over to the big window to admire the snow softly falling to the ground. Little flurries of powder sprinkle across the mountain. It’s beautiful. 

“I thought she hated snow?” Seokjin asks, a smile creeping across his face at your pure joy over nature’s little show. 

“She hates the aftermath of snow. When it’s sludge and no longer fun.” Namjoon states, rinsing his empty bowl in the sink before putting it in the dishwasher, standing next to his friend to watch you. 

“We’re going outside.” You spin around, a giant grin on your face, opposite of the two men frowning at the idea. 

“No, we’re not.” Seokjin shakes his head, turning off the stove and plating the delicious breakfast. 

“Yes, we are, Jin. Because it’s Christmas, and it’s snowing. It’s literally a white Christmas. We have to. I think it’s a law.” 

“A law in what country?” Namjoon raises an eyebrow at your crossed arm stance. He knows you too well to know where this is going. A child’s reasoning would be coming up next. 

“My country. The country where I’m right, and you’re wrong, and we’re going to have fun in the snow.” 

There it is. However, he wasn’t expecting the little foot stomp that came after the childish demand, making him laugh out loud. 

“What’s so funny?” Namjoon just shakes his head, helping Jin set the plates of food down on the table. 

“I thought I knew you too well, yet you still find ways to surprise me, Jagi. Now come eat breakfast, and then we can go outside.”

Your smile beams as you skip across the kitchen to the table to start eating the perfect chocolate chip pancakes quickly so you can go outside. Jin turns to Namjoon, looking less excited. 

“Do we have to? It’s cold. You told me we’d just be here. Preferably by a fireplace.” He frowns when Namjoon smirks, patting him on the shoulder. 

“Just go with it. She’ll get bored after twenty minutes.”

“I can hear you. I’m right here.” You glare at the two beautiful men while stuffing a piece of pancake into your mouth. 

“Sorry, Jagi. Eat up and get dressed. We’ll go outside in like an hour.” 

“Wait, where are you going?” You ask in a hopefully not too obvious nervous panic. Seokjin was settling down at the table with the same breakfast plate, but there wasn’t one for your boyfriend. 

“I already ate. I’m gonna get in the shower. Enjoy.” He says it with what you feel is a teasing tone. But you don’t have the chance to question him when he kisses the top of your head before heading upstairs. 

The room goes silent, except for the utensils used to stab the food. Is it awkward? Why does it feel awkward? Wouldn’t it just be you feeling awkward? So why does Seokjin look just as flustered as you feel? 

Fuck it. 

“So,” your voice cuts into the quiet tension. “Wanna tell me why you’re here?”

“I’m here to have breakfast.”

“You know what I mean, Jin. Why are you here? What’s Joon going on and on about you being a gift? Why are you all tense?” 

“Later, babes. Later he’ll tell you.” He steals the last piece of your pancake, stuffing it in his wide mouth before getting up. 

You pout, which usually works against Namjoon, but Seokjin is immune and snickers while putting the dishes in the sink to clean up.

“Stop pouting. It’s Christmas. Go get dressed so you can play in the damn snow.”

You slowly walk to his side, socks shuffling against the cold wooden floor. 

“Do you need help cleaning?” 

“No, y/n. I’ll be fine. Go get dressed.” 

“But you’re technically the guest. So the guest shouldn’t have to clean…” You reach out for the plate in the sink, trying to step in front of him so you can take over. But one hand wraps around your wrist while the other rests on your hip. You gasp, your breath getting caught in your throat when his lips find their way next to your ear, barely touching as he takes a deep breath, the fingers on your hip squeeze a little tighter. The plate falls into the sink, thankfully not breaking.

“You’re such a brat, aren’t you? Do you listen to Namjoon when he tells you to do something?” You don’t respond, completely frozen. He slowly brings his chest against your back, pressing you flush against him, the hand on your wrist finding its way to your hips as well.

What the hell is happening?

“What? Now you’re silent? What does your boyfriend do with you when you don’t obey? When you don’t respond?” 

You whine when he brings your hips farther back, pressing your ass directly against his crotch, where you swear you can feel him getting hard.

What the fuck is happening?!

“I…what…?” you can barely make out any words, confused beyond reality at what was happening. 

He says nothing for a moment, and you swear you can feel yourself getting whiplash from how fast his tone changes as he lets go of your hips, pushing you away from him and the sink. 

“I got the dishes. It all goes in the dishwasher anyway, silly. Go get ready before the snow stops falling.” 

You trip over yourself as you try to remember how the hell to get up the stairs, ears ringing and body on fire. 

You quickly make your way to your bedroom and into the bathroom where Namjoon was showering. When you open the door, he’s standing at the counter. Towel wrapped lowly around his waistline. His hair is wet, and dripping water droplets down his skin. 

Fucking hell, he’s sex on legs. If you weren’t wet from what just happened downstairs, you sure are now. 

“What?” He looks at you with a stupid good looking smile and eyebrows raised in question. 

“I love you.” You state quickly, turning to leave, but are grabbed by the wrist once again. 

“I love you, too.” His smile falters when he sees the panic in your eyes, his own mimicking yours. “What’s going on?” 

“Why is Jin here?” 

“He’s your—”

“Yeah, my gift. Explain. Now. Right now, Joon.” 

He sighs, closing the bathroom door behind you before picking you up and placing you on the counter, his hands staying on your thighs. 

“Remember earlier this year when we talked about fantasies and secret kinks?” He leans in to place a delicate kiss on your forehead. You nod in response, just the question alone confirming your suspicions.

“Yeah, well turns out your little crush wasn’t all that unrequited.”

He relishes in joy at the shocked look on your face. His hand cupping around your cheek while you process the last five years, mindlessly running your hands up and down his forearms. 

“Yes, it was.” You finally say, staring up at your boyfriend. 

“Oh, baby. My oblivious and perfect baby. You had no idea, did you?” You shake your head, still replaying every moment with Seokjin you’ve ever had. Namjoon smirks, a gorgeous dimple making an appearance. 

“After our talk about the threesome, I asked Yoongi if he knew about your crush. He said no but that Jin had one on you. So I talked to Jin, who was as shocked as you are right now, and I offered him a chance to remedy this miscommunication problem you two had.”

“To remedy? What? Do you actually want to do the threesome?! No, actually, Seokjin wants to do the threesome?!” 

“Yes to Seokjin. Kind of to me wanting to. My fantasy is different.” His voice drops a little lower, the hand on your thigh sliding up and under your shirt to grip your waist, the one on your cheek following suit, grinning as he leans to whisper in your ear.

“I want to watch my baby get fucked by another man. Then have my turn with her after just so she remembers who she belongs to.” 

Your hands are still, your eyes widen, and your breathing stops as the images of Namjoon watching you have sex with someone else, that someone else being his friend, and then fucking you after, race across your mind. 

You don’t even hear the whimper you let out until Namjoon’s giggle makes its way into your brain. 

“You’re picturing it, aren’t you?” He teases, nose running along the curve of your neck, lightly kissing your skin. 

“And I’m pretty confident that you enjoy the thought of it, too.” His hands quickly slide behind you, scooping your ass to pull you closer to the edge of the counter, making you gasp as your hands grip his shoulders. 

“Wait, wait, wait.” You shake your head, tapping his shoulders, so he stops his wandering hands and teases against your skin with his lips. 

“So you brought me to a fucking cabin in the mountains of a foreign country, made Jin fly out separately, might I add and have to find his way here by himself to get off on watching your girlfriend get fucked by your best friend?”

“Mhmm.” 

You laugh, holding his face in your hands, softly squishing his cheeks adoringly. 

“Joon, we could've done that at home. We didn’t need to fly out here to have sex.” 

“I was trying to be romantic.” He sighs, a little pout forming as his hands return to rest on your knees. 

“Oh, Joonie. You could’ve decorated the house, which would’ve been romantic enough.” You squish his cheeks a little more, giggling when he rolls his eyes. 

“Yes, but this is hotter. And in the mountains, you can be as loud as you want.” 

“Nah. Might alert the wendigos or the serial killers. Gotta stay quiet.” 

“You’re impossible.” He groans, pulling your hands away from his face and intertwining his fingers with yours. 

You grin at your boyfriend, your perfect and kind and funny and so very sexy boyfriend that is still in just a towel. 

“Are you sure you’re okay with this, Joonie?” You tilt your head to the side, watching him carefully for any ounce of hesitation. 

Nothing. 

“Absolutely, baby. Are you?” He mirrors your head tilt and questioning expression. You look down for a moment, pondering on the pros and cons of this whole deal before looking back up at him and nodding. 

“Yeah. If all three of us are okay, then I don’t see why not.”

“Perfect. Then I have another gift.” He backs away from you, heading to his luggage momentarily. 

“I swear to God, if you somehow brought Yoongi into this, I’m ending this relationship.” 

You hear a laugh from the bedroom before he comes back in, little shopping bag in hand as he hands it to you. 

“No Yoongi, I promise. But this. This is a gift for Jin. You’re going to put this on, and then when you get bored of the snow, he can unwrap you and find this. It’ll drive him nuts.”

You grab the bag, eyeing him suspiciously before looking inside, gawking at the crimson red  mix of satin and lace. There’s barely any fabric in the little bag. 

“Joon, what the hell is this?” 

“That,” he pulls the dainty lingerie set out of the bag holding it out in front of you with dimples piercing his cheeks. “That is Jin’s gift.” 

“I’m not wearing this in the snow.”

“Well, duh. You’re wearing it underneath everything, baby.”

“But what if I sweat?”

“I mean, you will be later when you’re being fucked, so what difference does it make?”

You huff at him, cursing his stupid smart logical brain while running your fingertips across the fabric. 

“Fine. Hurry up in here so I can change.” 

“Already done, sweetheart.” He drops the fabric in your lap and heads out of the bathroom, leaving you on the counter to process what just happened and what’s about to happen. 

You head back downstairs to find both men bundled up in layers of clothing, beanies, scarves, and gloves.. They look like they’re about to trek across the Antarctic. Meanwhile, you’re wearing leggings underneath some jeans, a long-sleeved  shirt under a sweater you stole from Namjoon a year ago, and a beanie with some gloves. Not to mention the crimson red lace number underneath it all. 

You should’ve layered like they did. 

It’s too fucking cold. 

You thought it’d be like back home where, yes, it’s cold, but it’s snow. You’re used to snow. 

But not snow on a damn mountain with wind and high elevations. 

Namjoon was almost right. You spend a max of thirty-three minutes pretending to be fine and running around hoping you’d warm up while the guys actually have fun throwing snow at one another. 

You wind up standing on the porch of the cabin, watching them be silly and enjoying the view of the snow quietly dancing in the air before gently landing on the trees around you.

You want to sit on the steps up to the porch, but you’ve become very hyper aware of what you’re wearing underneath your not-thick enough layers. The steps are wet, and you absolutely don’t want cold wet underwear when you have sex. 

Oh god, you’re going to have a threesome later. Namjoon didn’t tell you when - only gathering that it was later today by him having you put on the lingerie set. You watch Seokjin and Namjoon interact like this wasn’t going to happen like your boyfriend wasn’t about to let his best friend fuck his girlfriend, a man she had a major crush on years ago. And Seokjin had a crush too? 

Absolutely wild.

You start to quietly shuffle back towards the front door when a snowball comes hurling at your back. It barely hurts you, but it’s always fun to pretend. 

“Hey! What are you doing?” Namjoon shouts from the little yard, and you turn to look at him, a pout already forming with your hand on your back like it was just hit with a bowling ball. 

“I regret my decision of being out here. I wanna go back in.” You yell back, feet backing you closer to the door. 

The two men look at one another, quietly talking amongst themselves until Seokjin shrugs with a smile as they leave the snow to join you back inside. 

“I’ll get the fireplace going again down here. Hyung, can you get the one upstairs in our room?” Namjoon nods at Seokjin, who nods back before climbing the stairs. 

“Y/n, baby, can you help him? Bring the firewood up for him?” 

He’s smiling, but it’s not his lovable smile, it’s something else. Something potentially dangerous and sinful. You don’t think further, nodding at your mischievous boyfriend and grabbing a few pieces of firewood as you head up to your bedroom. 

You watch your previous crush get to work, removing the big puffy jacket, gloves, and beanie and bending down to poke around at the charred pieces of wood from earlier to make a flat surface for the new pieces to go in.

His back and shoulders are so freaking huge. The desire to scratch your fingernails across them creeps into your mind, as well as the wonder of how it’d feel to hold onto his shoulder as he repeatedly pounds his hips into yours. 

“You gonna keep staring, or do you wanna help me, princess?” He doesn’t speak directly to your face, but your body feels like it’s on fire again from the nickname. 

“Uh. Yeah, I brought the wood.” You quietly stutter out, sitting down next to him with the pieces still in your arms, eyes steady on the empty fireplace.

“Can I have one?” 

“Hmm?” 

“The…firewood. I need it to, you know, start the fire…” 

“Oh…” what’s happening? “OH! Right, sorry. Here you go.” 

Seokjin awkwardly smiles as you finally let go of the wood, leaving it in your lap and handing him a piece. 

“You’re not okay with Namjoon’s plan, are you?” 

“No. I mean, I am. Yeah, I am. I’m just processing it still?”

“Well,” he ignites the fire once he’s got all the wood set up and ready to go. “I think if you’re anywhere even remotely near hesitant, it means you don’t want to.”

“I want to!” You accidentally shout, face heating up in embarrassment. 

“I want to, Jin. I’m positive. If I wasn’t, I wouldn’t be wearing the stupid lace set Namjoon told me to wear for you.”

“The what for who now?” Seokjin’s face turns to you, eyes following your figure as if he could see it under all your clothes. 

“That was supposed to be a surprise, y/n.”

You both whip your heads around to Namjoon leaning against the door frame, arms crossed. He’d taken off most of his layers. Now just in a black turtleneck tucked into his pants. You quickly stand up, putting a little extra distance between you and Seokjin, who stands up to remove a few of his extra layers as the room warms.

“You put her in lingerie for me?” Seokjin smiles, albeit a little shocked, at his best friend, who nods, eyes still trained on you. 

“I know how much you hate surprises and waiting, hyung. So now that you know what your gift is…if she’s willing, I think it’s a good time to unwrap it.”

You gulp, having to force it down your throat when the silence in the room becomes too much with two pairs of eyes on you. You focus on Namjoon moving to sit down on a loveseat in the corner of the room, trying to figure out what to do next, when you feel a body behind you. 

“Come on, princess. Namjoon already told me about your crush.” His hands slide around your waist, fingers quickly working to undo the button of your jeans. “And I’ll be honest. I’m kind of offended you didn’t notice my flirting back then.”

You quickly whip around in his arms, your hands resting on his chest, his now on your ass. 

“What?” 

“You really didn’t notice?” He laughs, looking over at Namjoon. “I thought you were kidding.” 

Namjoon smirks, leaning back some more on the loveseat. 

“Nope. She was completely oblivious, apparently.” His hand slides its way up from resting on his knee to softly palming himself. “Her obliviousness worked out for me in the end, though.”

“Okay, once again, can you two stop talking about me like I’m not here?” They both laugh as if it’s some weird inside joke.

“But that makes you oblivious too if you didn’t know about my crush. You really liked me back then?”

“Oh, princess. The things I wanted to do to you back then…” your gaze meets his, and it is undeniable how serious he is. 

Dark brown eyes filled with lust and desire stare right back at you. You force yourself to look away at your boyfriend of three years, sitting on the loveseat in your room, watching the woman he loves in his friend’s arms. He gives you a small nod, confirming this was all okay with him, and you look back to Seokjin. 

“Why don’t you show me then?” Your voice shakes a little, but Seokjin ignores it, a hand finding its way to the back of your neck to bring your lips to his. 

It’s even better than you had imagined years ago. His soft and puffy lips against yours, practically consuming you. He tilts your head to the side to deepen the kiss, a whimper from you giving him permission to continue. 

The hand still on your ass snakes its way underneath the waistline of your jeans, wide hand roughly grabbing the meat of your ass through your leggings and pulling you against him so you could feel how hard he was already getting.

You barely register his hand leaving your jeans or both hands finding their way to your thighs to lift you up in his arms so effortlessly, lips still melting against one another. 

He sits down at the edge of the bed, settling you on his lap to straddle him. Your hands find  their way to his hair, curling your fingers so tightly that the man below you can’t help but moan against your lips, your tongue sneaking its way past his lips. 

There are no words, just heavy breathing and the sounds of messy kisses and soft moans from your hips rolling into his. Hands are barely even moving across bodies, it’s amazing. Like it was always this way. Like it was completely normal to be in Seokjin’s lap, kissing the life out of one another. 

But a random lip bite brings you back to reality, and you pull away, both trying to take control of your breathing. You look behind you to look at your boyfriend, who’s just watching with a hard stare, hand mindlessly pressing against his growing erection. A large hand grabs your chin, roughly turning your face back to face the man with the perfect lips. 

“Nuh-uh, princess. Just you and me, okay? Namjoon’s not here. Let’s have this moment for us, yeah?” 

Your foreheads touch, your eyes shutting as you try to forget your boyfriend is a few feet away. Seokjin’s hand leaves your chin to rub your arms, trying to remind you that you’re safe. 

You finally open your eyes, leaning away to look at him. 

Kim Seokjin. 

The man you had a crush on for four years. The man you could’ve sworn was the one before you met Namjoon. The man currently sitting under you, comforting you, kissing you moments ago like you were meant to do years ago. 

“Yeah, okay.” You let out a shaky laugh. “A moment for us. Seven years in the making.” 

You both smile, but yours is small and nervous. He can tell, he’s seen that nervous smile so many times. So he does the only thing he’s been wanting to do every time he sees it, and kisses you like it’s the last kiss he’ll ever give, and you’ll ever receive. 

You melt into the kiss that’s so passionate, you actually forget about Namjoon for a moment. Wrapping your arms back around his neck, hand toying with his hair near the nape of his neck as he tugs you closer to his chest, completely intoxicated by you. 

Before you can register the movement, you’re on your back on the bed. Seokjin stands at the foot of the bed as he takes off the layers of clothes, revealing a very toned body that you were not expecting, but pleased to see. 

You quickly sit up to remove your sweater and long-sleeved  shirt, tossing it aside and revealing the beautiful crimson lace and satin bra. Seokjin’s smile is priceless at the view, and you can’t help but smile in return, removing the jeans and leggings in one go, Seokjin having to pull them off the rest of the way. 

There’s quiet laughter from both of you that dies immediately once he gets the full view of you in the set. That same look from earlier can be found in his eyes as you lay back down and slowly spread your legs for him as his hands touch your knees. 

Once he’s removed every layer except his underwear, Seokjin crawls back over you, tucking himself between your legs and resting on his elbows, finding your lips with his once again. 

You let out a small gasp when you feel him roll his hips into yours, his hardening length covered pressing against your lace covered center. He does it a few times more before pulling his lips away from yours to look back at his best friend.

“We didn’t discuss what I’m…I guess what I’m allowed to do here.” His words strain at the end when you roll your hips in response to his stopping. 

“She’s your gift just as much as you’re hers, hyung. Treat her right, and she’ll do the same. Also, she’s her own person. I can’t tell you how to fuck her just like I can’t tell her how to fuck you.”

You try to suppress the grin trying to form on your lips, but you can’t hide the breathless laugh that escapes instead. Both men look at you as you shrug, fingernails lightly running up and down Seokjin’s sides, loving the feeling of his muscles tensing at your touch.

“I don’t know why, but that sounds hotter…” you quietly mutter, watching his body’s reaction to your nails.

“What? Him telling me how to fuck you? Because I’m pretty sur–”

“No. Telling me what to do. Both of you…” 

“How do you want it, princess?” Seokjin’s fingers play with the strap of the bra, “Sweet and slow?” He lifts the strap up, letting it go to snap against your shoulder, making you wince. “Or rough and fast?” 

“Second one.” You groan out when he does it again to the other side.

“What’s my limit?” You hear the tone in his voice switch from seductive and low to suddenly serious, as if he was making a business transaction.

“There isn’t one, really? I’m open to a lot of things.” You whisper, looking over to Namjoon for some sort of confirmation. No one knows you better than he does. He snickers. 

“No matter how hard you try, she won’t call you daddy. But that’s really the only thing. You can spank her, choke her, overstimulate her until she cries. Tie her down. Baby does whatever she has to do to be fucked.” 

“Aw, no daddy? What about Oppa?” Jin feigns disappointment, and you just groan in response.

“God no, that’s somehow worse.” 

“What about sir? Master? My liege?”

“My liege? Seriously?” Seokjin shrugs, a goofy grin beaming down at you as he lets out a laugh that makes his voice squeak. “Sir is eh. Master no. I don’t even wanna know about my liege.” 

“And what can I call you, hmm? Joon calls you baby…can I call you that too?”

Namjoon cuts in before you can agree. 

“Baby is mine. She got flustered every time you called her princess. You can do that.” 

Seokjin looks between you and Namjoon, ending on you as you nod in agreement with Namjoon’s order. 

“Do we need a safe word?” 

“Wendigo.” You and Namjoon say it in perfect sync, easing any anxieties and tension and making all three of you laugh. 

“We don’t need a safe word right now, Jin. I trust you.”

“Okay.” You watch Seokjin’s expression switch back from business to desire in half a second as he moves his hand to settle across your throat. Thumb and index finger pressed against either side of your neck, squeezing softly until you tilt your head up enough to give him more access. 

“Let’s have fun then, yeah princess?” You nod in his grasp, his grip around your throat bringing you to sit up with him. 

“As much as I love this little red gift and I thank you for it, Joon. It needs to go. Now.” You quickly bring your hands behind your back to free yourself from the bra, gently tossing it to Namjoon who smirks at the action. 

“God, princess. You’re fucking gorgeous.” Seokjin removes his grip on your throat, instead surging forward to press his lips there instead. He sucks, licks, and bites in random intervals down your throat and across your chest, finding his way to one of your breasts and giving them some much needed attention. 

You moan at every lick across your sensitive nipples and whine loudly at every bite. He switches between both breasts until he feels like he’s tortured you enough, kissing his way down your torso, kissing all over your stomach until he’s right where you need him.

He hooks two fingers on either side of your underwear and pulls them down to your calves, letting you take them the rest of the way off while he readjusts on the bed, laying flat on his stomach with his face a few breaths away from your soaked center. 

You grab the underwear, tossing it like you did with the bra at Namjoon, who, somehow, in the last few minutes, has taken off his pants and unleashed his erection. You watch him bring the underwear down to his cock, wrapping it around the stiff member, and agonizingly slowly jerking himself off with it. 

“Focus baby.” Namjoon whispers. 

And you have barely enough time to register what he said before Seokjin’s tongue is licking a strip up your folds, sucking on your clit briefly before repeating. Your hips buck up just a little bit before a free hand forces your hips back down into the bed as he relentlessly eats you out. 

“Fucking hell, Jin, please. Please, I'm close.” You cry out your pleas over and over. He ignores them completely, inserting two fingers and curling them up in a come hither motion to hit that special spot for you. Every time he feels you’re about to come, however, his fingers still and his mouth pulls away from you. 

“Oh, she begs. But not correctly. Shame.” He softly blows air against your clit, enjoying the view of you squirming from the cold air. 

You whine, squirming against him, and the word nope is mumbled against your thighs, biting down when you move again. 

“Please.” You cry out again, hands flying down to tangle in his hair and pull and this time, he smiles. 

“There we go. Just had to ask nicely, princess.” His lips return to your clit, fingers resuming their assault. “Go ahead. Come for me.”

And you do. Seconds after he gives you permission, you cry out, back arching up and legs snapping closed with Seokjin’s head between your thighs. Your fingers hold his mouth as close to your pussy as possible, letting him continue to lick and suck as you ride out your high. 

When you finally come back down, your legs open again, freeing the man’s head. But he doesn’t relent, moving his body above yours to kiss you, tasting yourself on his lips, while his fingers continue to thrust into you. 

“No no no, too much.” You cry against his smiling lips. 

“You can do it, princess. I want to see you come for me as many times as I can. Who knows when this will happen again, hmm? Come again. I know you can.” 

The second orgasm comes a lot faster. It feels like being hit by a bus with how suddenly you fall apart on his fingers. You claw at his back with your fingers as you shake underneath him, only seeing a flash of white for a moment. 

When you can see again, it’s the sight of Seokjin with the biggest grin turning to Namjoon in pure happiness. 

“You didn’t tell me she squirts! Fuck, that’s the hottest thing ever.” 

You don’t hear your boyfriend's response, the man above you leaning down to kiss your forehead, down to your nose, and landing on your lips again. 

“You okay?”

You weakly nod, eyes closed, hearing his chuckle in response. Your hand moves on instinct to his hardening bulge trapped in his underwear but his hand stops you. 

“As much as I would love to find out what your mouth and throat are capable of. I’m afraid I won’t make it to fucking you.” He murmurs against the skin on your neck, lips creeping up to your ear. He kisses the shell of your ear, and you let out a small whimper.

“Don’t pout, princess. You still have your boyfriend’s cock.” 

You groan, head turning away from Seokjin to look at your boyfriend, still running your soiled underwear along his length. You curse under your breath, running your hands across your face, covering your eyes and making them both smile. 

“Another thing we didn’t go over, condom or no?” Seokjin quietly asks. 

You both look over to Namjoon, who doesn’t answer, leaving you to make the decision. 

“I hate condoms.” You mutter, watching your boyfriend see if your answer is correct. He just smiles dimples subtly threatening to appear. 

Before Seokjin can say anything, you speak up more confidently. 

“I hate condoms, I’m on birth control, and I’m clean. So is Joon, obviously. So…as long as you're clean…if you don’t want to use condoms…”

“I’m clean, y/n. Promise.” You give Seokjin a grin, reaching up for his face to bring his lips to yours. 

“Then hurry up and get those briefs off.” You smile against his lips. Feeling his lips tug up into a grin of his own. He quickly pulls off you, shedding the underwear quickly. When he crawls back on the bed, you open your legs more, giving him better access to sit between your legs, slowly running his hand up and down his cock. 

And you want to reach out and grab it. It’s the perfect size. Not too long or thick that it’s uncomfortable. But long enough and thick enough that you think it’d be able to go as deep as possible while giving the best stretch. You feel your mind turn to mush as you watch his hand lazily move up and down, his thumb dragging across the large vein running along his cock and adding slight pressure to the tip. 

“I need you to tell me you’re okay with this again, princess. I don’t want you to regret this. Either of you.” He speaks the last sentence a little louder, looking to the side to meet Namjoon’s eyes. 

“It was my idea. I’m completely fine with it.” Your boyfriend speaks, hand stilling on his cock to delay his orgasm a little longer. 

“I’m okay with this, Jin. Please.” You wrap both legs around his waist, bringing him closer to you. “Please fuck me.”

Seokjin’s grin is blinding as he smacks the tip of his cock against your clit, enjoying the view of you flinching each time. Without warning, he glides the tip to your entrance, slowly pushing past your folds. 

Fuck, his cock is perfect.

“Princess, you’re so fucking tight. Feels so good.”

You can’t respond. Only moans or whimpers as he starts to slowly thrust into you. He leans forward, tucking his face into your neck, kissing the skin there while his thrusts get progressively faster and harder. 

“Do you know how long I’ve been thinking about this moment? How long I’ve thought about having you like this? Underneath me? Taking my cock so easily?” Every question ends with a harsh snap of his hips into yours and you cry out a moan each time without fail. 

“Tell your boyfriend how it feels to have your pussy filled with someone else’s cock, princess.”

His hand slides around your throat again, turning your head to face Namjoon, whose eyes are locked onto yours with his eyebrows raised and a mischievous smile. 

“So fucking good. Fuck. Thank you, Joonie. Thank you.”

“No, baby. Thank you.”

You’re about to respond, though you don’t know with what, as the hand around your throat tightens. 

“God, I’m not going to last. I’m sorry, princess. I wanted to do so much more with you.” His voice is barely above a whisper against your skin as you tangle your fingers in his hair again, quietly reassuring him.

“Where do you want me?”  

“Inside.” Your voice strains against his hold, eyes trained on your boyfriend. 

His face raises from behind your ear, hips slowing, but the grasp around your throat doesn’t falter. 

“You sure?” His head turns to your boyfriend who’s already getting up, removing the rest of his clothes. “Is that okay?”

“Whatever my baby wants, hyung. Better give it to her.” He quips, walking up to the bed where you’ve stretched out your right hand for him, the left still in Seokjin’s hair. He keeps himself just out of reach, almost enjoying your struggle. 

“Are you close, baby?” You nod up at your boyfriend who just continues his little devilish smirk. “Better help him finish then, hmm?”

You push the image of Namjoon out of your mind, returning your focus to the man returning to his quickened pace. The hand around your throat loosens and moves between you two to run circles against your clit. Your own hands cup Seokjin’s face, bringing his forehead to rest against yours.

“Come with me, Jin. Fill me up, please, I need it,” you beg, lips brushing against his. When he tries to catch yours in a kiss, you dodge it, lightly biting his lower lip instead. 

His groan matched with a sharp thrust into you and with just the right pressure against your clit, setting you off, clenching around him as your third orgasm hits. You let go of his bottom lip, , moaning loudly as he continues to fuck you through your orgasm. 

He lets out a guttural groan, thrusting once more as deep as he can, letting you feel his cock twitch inside of you as he completely fills you up before collapsing on top of you. 

You’re given all of ten  seconds to recover before Namjoon is saying something to his friend who slowly removes himself from you. Namjoon quickly steps in, fingers catching any leaking cum and stuffing it back in, making you close your eyes and whimper. 

“You’re not done, baby. Remember what I said?” 

You nod weakly. 

“You had your fun, now you need to be reminded who this cunt belongs to, right?”

Another small nod followed by a quiet you. 

Namjoon grins, twisting your body to be on your side, your right leg being held up in the air by your boyfriend. When you open your eyes, Jin is sitting on the bed beside you, his messy cock a few inches away. 

“Clean him up, baby.” He orders, thrusting into you as deep as he can, coating his cock with Seokjin’s cum. 

You weakly reach up for your friend’s slowly softening cock, licking both your arousal and his cum off him. You move to slide him down your throat but Namjoon perfectly times another thrust, making you forget about what you were planning and just slowly jerking Seokjin instead. 

You mutter out the word harder and more but you’re not even sure if anything came out of your mouth. It must have, though, because your boyfriend laughs and does exactly as you say. 

Words are barely exchanged between the three of you as Namjoon quickly ruins you, making you come twice more while your hand is still wrapped around Seokjin’s cock. Every time you close your eyes or whine about it being too much, Namjoon would spank you, the darkening handprint on your ass encouraging him to fuck you harder until you’re crying.

You’ve never felt so full until Namjoon came inside of you mere moments after Seokjin. His growls and the fullness feeling spurring on a small barely noticeable sixth orgasm. He gives you no time to rest, slowly pulling out of you and using the head of his cock to collect any cum that leaks out. He crawls behind you as you move your head with your mouth open, tongue laying out flat as if trained for this moment. He doesn’t ease his dick into your mouth, instead shoving it as far back as he knows you can take it, ignoring your gagging sounds.

“Good girl. Take it and clean up the mess you made.” You do just as he says, cleaning him up just like you did with Seokjin. As if he knows your lung capacity better than you do, he pulls out of your mouth just before you start having trouble breathing. 

And all at once, the three of you fall back onto the bed in exhaustion. Namjoon’s arm snakes its way under your head, letting you rest against him while his fingers play with your hair. Seokjin’s fingers dance across your thigh.

No one speaks for a few minutes until you decide you hate the silence too much.

“So…what now?” 

“Good question.” Seokjin quietly fires back.

Namjoon lets out an exasperated laugh, turning his head to kiss your temple.

“I think the first question would be if you enjoyed yourselves.” 

You and Seokjin both say yes at the same time, and both try to contain the laughter that followed.

Namjoon just smiles, giving another kiss to your temple while looking at his best friend. 

“The next question would probably be ‘is this something you’d want to do again?’” 

Seokjin nods without hesitation and Namjoon chuckles.

“And you, baby? Would you do it again?” 

You tilt your head up to look at your boyfriend. He seems happy about it. He looked like he really enjoyed watching. And you really liked getting fucked by Seokjin. 

“Yes. As long as everyone’s cool with it, and we set up some like ground rules or something. Then yes.” 

“You and your rules.” Seokjin teases and you smack his chest, sending him a death glare.

“Okay,” Namjoon states, rolling over so he can properly hold you against his chest while talking directly with Seokjin.

“So we’ll set up some rules on whatever this situationship is when we get back.” Your eyes return to Namjoon’s in confusion. But he’s not looking at you, instead behind you and further down the bed.

“When we get back? And what do we do until then?”

That goddamn smile and those goddamn dimples will be the death of you.

“Well, baby. It seems like hyung is ready to go again…and it’s nowhere near dinner time yet. Maybe we can find out what this ‘so much more’ he wanted to do with you would be, hmm?” 

Oh, boy.

ahhhhhhhhhhhhhhhhhhhhh. ty for reading. let me know what you think. i'm sorry. 🙈

[harrowreads]

this is so much fun!!! the atmosphere is eerie and i have so many questions!!! very much looking forward to reading the next installment. 💜💜💜 i love a creepy horror vibe!

this line right here:

The neon and the LED lights of it spread over a large area as if it was the only one who could keep the darkness on a leash.

perfection.

The Exit

➛Pairing: Jeon Jungkook × reader

➛Genre: horror

➛Trope: established relationship (implied), horror

➛Word Count: 1.6k+

➛Trigger warning: darkness, creepy person, feeling of being lost

➛Rating: pg

➛Banner: made by apotatomashedbybts

➛Cross post: Wattpad | ao3

➛Disclaimer: This piece was a little bit inspired by the beginning of the webtoon Witch Creek Road (read that webtoon if you want your mind to be boggled and malfunction). Also the picture in the header inspired this story heavily.

➛Author's note: This is highly unedited and written in a day with my extremely sleepy head. Please be kind (⁠っ⁠˘̩⁠╭⁠╮⁠˘̩⁠)⁠っ

➛ Event: 🕸️ NO-FACETOBER hosted by @bangtanbathhouse

⤖ Day 1 : EERIE

➛Taglist: @btsstan12 ; @sugarwithtea ; @sweetieguk ; @kuuipobangtan

➛ Announcement: The Exit II is coming soon!

➛Summary: Jungkook should have taken the main road even if it meant it'd take longer to reach you.

The road was deserted. And unsettlingly dark.

It would have been another long night drive for Jungkook if it wasn't for this indomitable darkness that didn't let even his headlights pierce further into it.

Something about it made Jungkook uncomfortable and he wondered, "Would it have been better if I just took the main road?"

His mind played the image of the old lady at the small grocery store at the junction of the main road and this shortcut where he had stopped to buy water earlier.

That old lady had smiled oddly at him when he had asked her about the shortcut that his car navigation system was showing him with dotted lines and had asked him, "Do you want to take the shortcut?"

Jungkook had replied nonchalantly with a shrug, "If it takes me to my destination early then why not?"

"Then you should go," the old lady had answered with that same weird yet soft smile.

Jungkook had dismissed her behaviour by judging it as some characteristics that all eccentric old people had, specially in such a remote area.

But now this road made him think twice and he thought about turning around and take the main road. It wasn't far away. He was just fifteen minutes away from it. But just then he noticed the bright lights coming from what seemed to be a lone gas station in the middle of this obscurity.

Jungkook was quite sure that it wasn't there even a minute ago. Was he so zoned out that he missed noticing the lights?

The neon and the LED lights of it spread over a large area as if it was the only one who could keep the darkness on a leash. It was hard to miss but Jungkook did somehow.

With noticing the lights he also noticed that his fuel tank was almost empty. But he had filled the tank just an hour and a half ago, just before leaving the city border!

"Whatever," Jungkook thought and stopped his car in front of a fuel dispenser.

Jungkook got out of the car and spotted a lanky old man, with a skin that was so wrinkly and loose on him that it looked like it was not his but rather he was wearing it, approaching him with an ear to ear smile.

He took out the dispenser nozzle after Jungkook told him to get the tank full. Jungkook looked on the other side of the road, trying not make an eye contact, even more so because he could sense the old man staring at him incessantly with that same eerie smile on his face.

Jungkook was intending to stand there like that facing the other side looking distracted until the tank was full but the old man started talking to him, "You must be from the city."

Jungkook nodded a small yes with a small smile and turned away his face again.

"Anybody barely takes this road. You must be taking the shortcut to The Moor Estate."

Jungkook scrunched his eyebrows at this. He was irritated at his constant tries to make small talk with him even though he was making it clear that he didn't intended to talk, vaguely. But at the same time he was intrigued as well , and so he asked, "so, how much more till I reach there?"

It must be Jungkook's eyes playing tricks on him because he felt like the smile on the old man's face grew bigger, almost ripping his cheeks.

The old man kept the nozzle in its place and answered, "It's not very far. A small drive and you'll find the Devil's Crest turning! Turn on that road and you'll reach your destination."

As soon as the old man was done filling Jungkook's tank he took a water bottle and a small packet consisting of two cookies among many that were kept organised on a table beside the dispenser and said, "This is a complementary snack."

"Thanks." Jungkook said, hurriedly taking the food offered and somehow feeling instantly hungry.

"These cookies here are specially sweet." The old man said, his ripping cheeks could hardly contain his happiness.

Not wanting to spend any single minute more there Jungkook paid the old man and got out of there.

•••

Jungkook had been driving for a few hours now.

The navigation system of his car had stopped working long ago, as soon as he got out of the gas station. So he decided to pull over and call you.

He looked at his phone screen to see the time and he was surprised to see that it was already 3:03 am.

"It's already this late. A few minutes' nap won't hurt I guess," he thought and rang your number to let you know about his whereabouts.

"Hello! Jungkook... whe.. are... you?"

"Great! Now the network has gone haywire," Jungkook huffed as your voice reached to him inconsistently.

"I am taking the shortcut to your place." Jungkook answered.

"What? Your... ound... not... ching... pro... ly."

Jungkook knew it would be a waste of energy to talk right now so he said, "Nothing. I'll reach there soon. I'm almost at the Devil's Crest."

Your voice sounded much clearer this time, "Yes. Yes. Take the De... Ville's.. Crest turning! See you soon. Love you."

"Love you too." Jungkook replied with a smile and keeping the call he decided to push himself a little more.

Turned out that push was worth it because sooner than he expected he was now at The Devil's Crest turning.

He thanked the stars and hummed happily and steered his way into the turning thinking that he'd see you soon and could finally rest in your warm hug.

•••

Was it just him or really the environment had suddenly become too silent?

He strained his ear and looked around while driving - there wasn't a single sound, not even of birds or insects. As if someone had put this particular part of the world on mute.

The silent felt heavy on Jungkook's ears. So to give himself some sense of security he rolled up all the windows of the car and played his favourite tracks.

Jungkook looked at the sky and it was a dull blue almost like dawn but the surroundings below it appeared to be rejecting all the lights they were being provided.

He tried not to focus too much on them and kept his attention on the road.

He drove and drove and drove. The more he drove the more the road stretched further forward.

His back had started to ache from constant sitting upright in a futile attempt to not fall asleep and his eyes felt strained. He felt like his forehead was strung together with his eyes and was getting pulled back.

Stopping could have been an option but Jungkook's instincts told him to keep going. So he did. And finally he reached a part where the road was the widest, almost like a small yard, and an isolated red exit sign high up caught his eyes.

Jungkook didn't see a single trace of human living in that area as long as he drove so the existence of that neon exit sign was weird yet a sign of hope for him.

He wanted to get out of there as soon as possible and so he kicked the accelerator with all his might and zoomed past the exit signboard.

It was odd.

Jungkook drove straight past the signboard and drove on a straight road then why was he again in front of that same exit sign?

It didn't make any sense.

Jungkook consoled himself that maybe he had mistakenly took a turn somewhere that he couldn't remember. It was a far stretch even for him but he couldn't explain it in any other way.

Giving himself a light slap he started to drive.

But there he was - in front of the exit signboard, again.

Before the panic could settle in Jungkook hit the accelerator again to full speed and drove straight ahead.

This had to be some kind of joke.

Jungkook checked his dead navigation system and tried to call you, or anyone for that matter but the signals weren't going through.

He slapped his hands on the steering wheel and pressed the accelerator pedal again. But this time the car didn't move. Jungkook desperately turned the key and tried to get the car moving but it didn't budge.

With bloodshot eyes Jungkook looked at his fuel tank signal whose red arrow was pointing at the empty mark.

Jungkook rested his head on the steering wheel with a light thud and chuckled, "This has to be a dream. This has to be. I just have to wake up. Please, please, Jeon Jungkook, wake up! Wake the fuck up!"

He banged his head constantly on the steering wheel in a futile attempt to wake up from a reality that he was trying hard to convince himself as a nightmare.

But no matter how long it took the reality was bound to set in. It was no different for Jungkook. And as it did for him the fear nested in his heart like stones layering upon one another.

Your smiling face blurrily hovered in his mind and tears trickled down his cold cheeks.

He felt worn out. He just wanted to take some rest.

With shaky hands he opened the door of his car to let himself out. His legs gave up and he staggered as soon as he did so. He knelt down on the ground and looked up at the stern exit signboard against the never-changing sky.

As he stayed kneeling down there, staring at the sign with hazy vision, trying to reason with it mentally to let him go, a thick white cloud of fog floated in engulfing the entire ground. It swam towards Jungkook and swirled softly around him, ushering him into the woods.

With heavy mind and wobbly steps Jungkook stood up and began walking straight past the exit sign, on the road on which he already had drove multiple times. He was not going to give up.

He was going to find the exit.

~~~~~☠☠☠~~~~~

— © 2022 apotatomashedbybts, all rights reserved. Reposting or modifying of any kind is not allowed. Translations are not allowed.

~~~~~☠☠☠~~~~~

[harrowreads]

WOW OKAY. THIS IS SO GOOD.

although there are dark themes, you tow this line of vagueness that not only softens the blow of the absolute horror of this situation, but you make it seem inviting (until the very last moment, but tbh even then........)

i would consume an entire story of these two. which is not a call to action aslkdjasljda don't feel one ☝ single ounce of pressure hahaha.

your writing is so whimsical and beautiful in this piece, especially. i felt very much held suspended in this world, watching these two. Taehyung's apprehension laced with desire and Jimin's haunting assertiveness...................ugh. Jai. your beautiful brain. WOW.

i just love this piece so much. thank you for sharing this with us!!!

Taehyung has never been kissed like this, held so gently but ravaged. His lungs burn as he drowns in his wind. 

chef kiss.

also @btscontentenjoyer that mood board is breathtaking!!! absolutely stunning. (also funny enough, pinterest suggested two of the fin pictures to me this morning??????? like??????? did it predict that i would read this piece and fall in love?!?!?!!?!? eerie.)

Hi Jaiiii 💕💕 So I wasn't going to send a spooky drabble request since I'm usually super bad at coming up with ideas and you're already writing my one and only wish - weird fairy outfit Jungkook - but theeeen something came over me and I may have made a moodboard...

To me this is giving siren! jimin x human! taehyung but you can totally take whatever element that inspires you from it and do your own thing!! Fluff, smut, angst, you know I'm always open to reading anything from you, so go wild. I hope this gives you something to work with because I had fun making it! Love youuu 💞💞💞

the wind speaks | kth + pjm

Something's living under the dock at the Kim family's beach house.

○ Pairing: Human!Taehyung x Siren!Jimin

○ Rating: Mature/18+

○ Genre: Supernatural, "friends" to "lovers", angst, yandere

○ 2 / 100 Drabble Challenge (Mermaid)

○ Word Count: 2,313

○ Warnings: Emotional manipulation, Jimin is supernaturally alluring so that makes the whole thing very questionable, potential drowning and major character death? perhaps? 👀 it's an ambiguous ending so who knows!

○ Notes: Hi Ivi bby, I hope you didn't think I forgot about your AMAZING moodboard 🥹 I really need to commission you to make all my moodboards for me cuz I'm seriously obsessed with this one. It gave me so many ideas and it fit perfectly with my 100 Drabble Challenge. I hope you like what I've come up with, even tho it's a lil bit intense jhskjdfs 💜 ily

○ Post Date: January 4, 2024

○ Masterlist | Send me ur thots

○ What was Jai listening to? A spooky siren Spotify playlist

“Taehyung-ah! You have two hours before dinner, okay?” 

“Yes, eomma!” 

“Don’t make me have to come find you!” 

“Yes, eomma!” Taehyung calls out before closing the sliding glass door to their deck. 

The Kim family beach house sits just behind the sand dunes separating the beach from the homes lining the streets of their quiet town. The homes are nothing special, just boxy buildings with large windows built on high foundations to protect from flooding. The residents’ real treasures are boats, and the Kim dock is where Taehyung heads. 

Taehyung’s fluffy hair whips in the cool autumn wind during his trek through the cleared walkway between the dunes leading to the beach. Reaching the sand, the toes of his boots darken as he trudges through it. All morning, it rained, making the sand clump like wet dirt. Slimy seaweed and other debris cake the shoreline, so Taehyung carefully walks along the beach. 

The Kim dock isn’t anything fancy. Taehyung’s father built it himself out of wood he cut, sanded, and treated with his bare hands years ago. They keep their small fishing boat anchored to it – Singularity, named by Taehyung. He didn't know what to say when his parents asked him what it meant. He couldn’t outright admit that the word came to him in whispers in the wind when he sat at the edge of the dock, feet kicking in the air above the water. Taehyung has told one too many stories in the past; his parents are tired of hearing about his conversations with the wind. They said he would grow out of it, but Taehyung is freshly twenty, no longer a child, yet the wind still speaks. 

It’s cold without the sun to chase away the rain clouds. Taehyung zips his windbreaker up to the base of his throat and crouches at the edge of the dock to peer out at the ocean. The water is clouded from the rain kicking up the sandy floor.

“Hi,” Taehyung speaks to the wind and hopes it remembers. 

He left his phone at home, so he has no way of knowing how long he waits. The dock is rain-soaked, but his thighs burn from crouching. He opts for kneeling and shivers when his jeans absorb water at the knees.

“My Tae?” 

“Yes!” Taehyung perks up, eyes searching the horizon where the gray sky meets the murky ocean waters. He never sees anything; it’s just the wind. He looks anyway. 

“Where have you been, my Tae?” The wind sounds disappointed, and guilt makes Taehyung shrink further into his jacket like a frightened animal backed into a corner. 

“I’m sorry. I go to college now,” Taehyung admits sheepishly, “Far from here, so I can only visit during school breaks.” 

Waves lap at the legs of the dock. Sometimes, Taehyung thinks he sees things in the water, shadows bigger than the fish he catches off the dock in the summers. His father insists that the water is too shallow for large fish like sharks, but Taehyung doesn’t believe him. 

“I miss my Tae when he isn’t around…” 

Is it possible for a voice to be addicting? Taehyung swears the wind’s voice calms him. It’s silvery and alluring, a lullaby he could find himself falling into. He imagines himself falling asleep on a note, riding the soundwaves of the wind’s voice, ringing pure and cutting through the splash of waves meeting the dock. Sometimes, he wishes the wind would sing to him, knowing it would be a kind of heaven on earth if it did. 

“I miss you, too. It’s hard making new friends. I can’t just talk to them about anything like I can with you.” He closes his eyes and feels the wind kiss each eyelid.

“You are my only friend,” the wind whispers, sounding so close that Taehyung thinks he can feel the wind swirl against the side of his face. 

The air smells stronger now, a mixture of saltwater and petrichor. A cold front must be approaching. Taehyung worries it may rain again, but he doesn’t open his eyes to check. Something tells him not to, that it’s safer if he keeps them closed, though he doesn’t know why he’d need to be kept safe. Safe from what? The wind? 

“Open your eyes, Taehyung,” the wind whispers softly, alluring, a temptation so sweet that Taehyung feels himself falling into it, “See me.” 

“I’m scared,” Taehyung whimpers with a shiver. He tucks his hands between his thighs and holds his breath when he feels something caress his jaw, a light pressure like an index finger trailing from his earlobe to his chin. 

“Why are you scared? I love you, my Tae.” The light touch sweeps back along his jaw and then trails down Taehyung’s throat until the collar of his jacket stops it. His wind loves him. “I would never hurt you. Now open your eyes.” 

Cold hands gently cradle Taehyung’s face, palms to his cheeks. The hands are soft, slightly damp, and very much real. The wind can’t have hands, he tells himself. The wind is just wind. Taehyung’s stomach churns, tumbling like it does when his father’s boat hits a patch of rocky waves, sending fish flopping onto the bed of the boat and making Taehyung’s boots slide against the aluminum. 

With his heart fluttering like a caged hummingbird, Taehyung slowly opens his eyes. 

The wind is not air, but a young man with eyes a murky green like the sea who stares at Taehyung with parted glossy lips. Taehyung catches a glimpse of sharpened teeth behind those luscious lips, but he can’t focus on only one thing when there is so much of the man to take in. His shockingly white hair is messily braided with strips of seaweed and strings of pink pearls and draped over his shoulder – his naked shoulder – and Taehyung realizes the man is shirtless. Little jewels, pearls, and other shimmery gems decorate the man’s chest, outlining his sides until they reach his waist – covered in green scales that gleam despite the lack of sun. Taehyung inhales sharply when his eyes finally land on the sparkly fishtail draped over the side of the dock. 

“I–” Panic swells in Taehyung’s chest. He gasps as though he’s been pulled underwater, the moisture in the air like the ocean in his lungs. “Who, who are you?”

“I am your wind, Taehyung,” the man says with a small smile. When he slides one hand up Taehyung’s face to tuck a strand of hair behind his ear, he makes a sound like a cat purring. “But in the water, I am called Jimin.” 

“Jimin,” Taehyung whispers. Jimin. It is such a soft name; Taehyung likes how his lips pucker when he says it. “Why didn’t you ever tell me your name? Why didn’t you show yourself to me?” 

Jimin gives Taehyung a sad smile. “I was scared, too.” 

Taehyung’s heart still beats frantically in his chest, but he calms down as Jimin plays with his hair, caressing and running his fingers through the strands. Jimin calls out Taehyung’s name, whispering it like a secret only they know, “My Tae, my sweet Tae, my precious Taehyungie, so happy to finally touch you.” 

Taehyung finds himself closing his eyes and leaning into Jimin’s touch, letting out a quiet whimper when Jimin lightly scratches his scalp. Hypnotizing – the word bubbles up to the surface of Taehyung’s mind, his thoughts murky like the water beneath the dock. The wind, Jimin, is hypnotizing. 

“Why?” Taehyung asks without explanation, but Jimin knows everything. 

“I want to keep you.” 

“Hmm?” Taehyung lifts his head, realizing he has rested it on Jimin’s shoulder. It’s comfortable in Jimin’s embrace, even though Taehyung’s pants are thoroughly soaked from rain and ocean water, and Jimin’s scales feel strange under his fingers when he skips them along Jimin’s waist. 

“I want to keep you, my Tae. I can’t let you go.” 

“Keep me where?” Taehyung asks with glossy round eyes. He points to the waves lapping at the dock. “In there?” 

Jimin licks his lips, and Taehyung feels his stomach churn and dip like the climax of a rollercoaster or a freefall from a plane. 

“Yes.” Jimin runs his thumb along the apple of Taehyung’s cheek. His touch is just as soothing as it is terrifying; Taehyung can’t comprehend how that is. “Will you come with me?” 

Taehyung can’t. He can’t survive in the ocean; doesn’t his wind know that? 

But there’s still the pull. The source of it sinks lower until it’s tugging at Taehyung’s belly, making him heat up despite the temperature quickly dropping around them. It’s almost night; he’s unsure if he has already missed dinner or if his mother is searching for him. Looking over his shoulder, he sees nothing– hears nothing but the chirp of gulls and the crash of waves. 

“Taehyung.” 

Jimin’s fingers curl around Taehyung’s chin and force Taehyung to face him again. The color of his eyes seems to have darkened with the sky, a light gray now when it was once green. 

Taehyung’s name sounds so pretty, coming from Jimin’s pillowy lips, lips glossy and pink like the pearls in his hair, and the gems decorating his body. 

Taehyung feels the pull, and he wonders if it’s Jimin giving him sealegs, even though they’re both sitting down. Something is terrifying about his beauty, something uncanny, like an android that looks a little too real, or the feeling you get when you realize a photograph is actually a painting – still beautiful but deceptive. There’s something scary about Jimin that Taehyung can’t fully understand before it slips through his fingers like sand. 

Taehyung wants to kiss him. 

“I want to kiss you,” he says, not knowing why he admits it out loud. He can’t stop himself from leaning into Jimin when he pulls Taehyung against him. 

“My sweet Tae,” Jimin murmurs into Taehyung’s mouth. 

Jimin’s tongue is slippery and tastes like saltwater, but it’s warm and deft as it flicks against Taehyung’s lips and slithers along Taehyung’s tongue. His hands tangle in Taehyung’s hair, yanking his head to the side to deepen the kiss. It’s fast and desperate, Taehyung moaning and gasping into Jimin and Jimin taking it with bites to Taehyung’s lips and groans of his own. Taehyung has never been kissed like this, held so gently but ravaged. His lungs burn as he drowns in his wind. 

Taehyung groans when Jimin releases his mouth to suck on his neck, just above his jacket’s collar. Taehyung can do nothing but let Jimin pull his head back, and he watches the stars come into view when he’s laid flat on his back. Water soaks his hair, making the strands turn black, and Taehyung’s body shivers from the cold. Only his torso is relatively dry. 

“Jimin,” Taehyung calls out, voice gravelly, nearly stuck in the back of his throat. “I can’t.” 

I can’t survive in the ocean, he thinks, and can’t speak because Jimin suddenly straddles his thighs. 

“Stay with me, Taehyung,” Jimin pleads, but it’s spoken with an authority Taehyung can’t imagine disobeying.

“Your legs,” Taehyung chokes and tries to push himself up on his elbows. 

Gone is Jimin’s elegant tail. He has legs now, pretty legs with a smattering of green scales at his hips and along his calves. Jimin grips Taehyung’s hips with fingers that are greenish at the tips. His nails are sharpened into points and dig into his skin, even through his jacket.

“If you will not stay with me, let me give my Tae a gift,” Jimin whispers, his eyes sparkling like the ocean under the moonlight. 

Taehyung nods quickly and squirms beneath him. “Something to remember you until I can visit again?”

Jimin licks his lips, eyes boring into Taehyung’s, and Taehyung gets another glimpse of sharp teeth. He rakes his nails down Taehyung’s body, from his hips to the tops of his thighs. Taehyung hears the denim rip and fray, but Jimin’s nails don’t break his skin. 

“You’ll never forget me, my Tae.” 

“Of course not,” Taehyung pants with a heaving chest. He feels wild, an animal taunted by the rattle of his ribs when Jimin suddenly shakes him. 

“Your gift,” Jimin whispers as he leans forward, walking his green-tipped fingers up Taehyung’s torso until they’re hooked around his shoulders. 

“My gift…” 

Taehyung watches Jimin’s eyes change, shifting from gray to bright white, and his pupils turn into pinpoints. 

“My heart is pierced by Cupid; I disdain all glittering gold,” Jimin sings softly as he yanks Taehyung into a sitting position and straddles his lap, “There is nothing can console me, but my jolly sailor bold.” 

The song sounds familiar, but Taehyung doesn’t know why. The memory sits on the tip of his tongue and dances to the haunting tune of Jimin’s cadence, just out of Taehyung’s grasp. He finds that it doesn’t matter – not the memory, nor anything else. 

“His hair, it hangs in ringlets, his eyes as black as coal. My happiness attend him wherever he may go.” 

Taehyung’s head lolls to the side. He no longer holds it up, just lets Jimin’s warm palms squeeze his cheeks to keep him upright. He goes where Jimin moves him, tips his head backward when Jimin wants to stare into his eyes. 

“From Tower Hill to Blackwall, I'll wander, weep, and moan, all for my jolly sailor, until he sails home.”

Jimin’s nails puncture Taehyung’s jacket. He hooks his fingers through the material as he wraps his legs around Taehyung’s waist. Before Taehyung has the chance to do anything but let out a startled gasp, Jimin falls backward into the water, taking Taehyung with him. 

There is no splash when their bodies slip past the ocean’s surface, only bubbles that pattern the otherwise still waters. The waves no longer lap against the Kim family’s dock. The wind no longer speaks. 

@jooniesxbby @taegeum

Disclaimer: All my writing is fictional and for entertainment purposes only. None of these characters are meant to actually represent the real people mentioned in the stories. 

All rights reserved © @gimmethatagustd​ - Do not copy, repost, modify, or translate any of my writing. Do not use my writing for any AI purposes whatsoever. Do not use my fics for anything aside from reading and commenting on them. My fics will only be posted on this Tumblr and on AO3 (gimmethatagustd & daddytaehyungie). Request an AO3 account here.

[harrowreads]

❥ Bloom by FallingWater703

❥ summary:

“Goodnight Jungkookie,” Taehyung whispers, after they’ve drunk everything in the house, after they’ve watched the sky turn orange, and then pink, and then blue, after they’ve climbed the creaky stairs together, stumbling and giggling and bumping into each other. “I think we’re going to be best friends.”

And they are. For five years they’re the very best of friends. Two peas in a pod. Until something shifts and Jungkook is knocked onto his ass, and everything changes again.

❥ fic details & warnings:

❣ pairing: Jungkook x Taehyung

❣ length & word count: 15 chapters, 158,742

❣ tropes & genres: roommates au, friends with benefits, friends to lovers, found family

❣ additional warnings: top Jungkook, bottom Taehyung. recreational drug use, smoking, loss of virginity, light bdsm. smut, angst, unhappy ending (that resolves in a sequel). - see fic for smut warnings.

❣ restricted access for ao3 members only: no

❣ read this fic here!

❥ my review:

boy, oh boy, i love this story.

the pining is so, so good. and i adore the way everyone is depicted, especially Taehyung and Jungkook. i love watching them fumble through feelings and miscommunications. and the build to the ending is so, so heart-wrenchingly good.

this is such a sweet, sad coming of age found family story, but with some of the best smut i have ever read. this was the first time i ever read a frotting scene and it changed my life for the better.

some friends have recommended more works from this author, and i intend to read them one day. i really like author's writing style a lot.

full disclosure: this fic has an unhappy ending that looms over the reader's head the entire time. but there is a part 2 with a happy ending. tbh, i prefer the story ends where this fic ends, but everyone else i talk to is happy with the resolution at the end of the second fic, so if you plan to read this one, also make room for part 2!

[harrowreads]

❥ same damn hunger by orphan_account

❥ summary:

When it comes to fucking around with his best friend, Yoongi follows two rules:

1. They must be inebriated.

2. They must not kiss.

❥ fic details & warnings:

❣ pairing: Yoongi x Hoseok

❣ length & word count: oneshot, 40,468

❣ tropes & genres: college au, friends with benefits, friends to lovers

❣ additional warnings: Yoongi & Hoseok switch. recreational drug use, slow burn, misunderstandings. angst, smut, eventual fluff. "a lot of hooking up while Under The Influence. it's consensual on both ends, but just warning anyone who might be sensitive to that. the only drugs used here are alcohol and weed."

❣ restricted access for ao3 members only: yes

❣ read this fic here!

❥ my review:

this is the first fic that i ever sat in my bed reading and sobbing in the early hours of the morning. it was also my first mxm fic, and it is the blueprint for my desire to write yearning the way that i do. i think it is safe to say this fic has inspired me so much.

from how real the characters feel, to living inside Yoongi's overthinking little head...ugh. i visit this fic from time to time when i need to feel my feelings. and even tho i know what is coming, i always tear up.

my only regret is that this fic has been orphaned, so i cannot pour my heart and soul out to the author. i think about this fic often and i would love to tell them how much they have inspired me. i hope that wherever they are, they are having a good life.

[harrowreads]

i love the mythology class. once again, a very clever way to introduce us to the lore. (i hate to paint any kind of expectations by offering ideas for foreshadowing, but i can't help but wonder if the human versions of the myth could be missing important historical information, and whether this exposition will come back later.)

She shakes her head again. “History repeats itself,” she intones.

we'll see how correct this student is! hehehe.

spoilers below!

i am so interested in Namjoon's role. i had a feeling he was related Professor Kim.

Nothing like slicing your hand open in order to enter the world of the blood drinkers hehehe.

wow, this is so immersive and fun. i love that mc and Namjoon are both doofuses in their own ways and there to support and sell out each other, as they see fit. mc's excitement and disbelief is precious, and i enjoy her character a lot.

looking forward to more shenanigans!!! 😍😍😍

Of Ruin: Chapter 2 || KTH

(banner by @/itaeewon)

Of Ruin (Masterpost)

Rating: NSFW - minors dni Genre: vampire!au magic!au royalty!au, s2l, slow burn, eventual smut, angst and fluff

Summary: Taehyung of House Rune, Prince of Infracticus has been cursed. You’re the human world’s leading curse-breaker. It should be simple. But unraveling the curse becomes the least of your problems in the face of a world on the brink of civil war… and the love you start to feel for the prince.

A/N: Thank you endlessly to @/sailoryooons for betaing!!! 💕

//

Section Warnings: language, slicing one’s palm for a magical ritual?, casual beer drinking wc: 5.9k

It’s common for this first class of yours that some of your students arrive before you do, and today is no exception. Something is different today - most of the students are crowded around one girl’s desk, eyes on her phone screen.

You can’t help but peek up at them curiously as you set up your materials at the front of the room, signing into your laptop with one hand and digging in your bag for a stack of hand-outs with the other. 

Luckily, your curiosity is short-lived. 

“Have you heard about this, Professor?” one of the boys asks you, glancing up from the phone. “There have been a series of Infracti attacks across the continent.”

You feel yourself frown. “That’s news? There have always been Infracti that break the laws… just like there will always be some humans who break laws.”

“It isn’t just random hunters,” someone else tells you, pulling out their own phone to, you assume, pull up the article. “It seems like actual, orchestrated attacks - groups of Infracti at a time, and they leave survivors. They aren’t hunting, just killing. There’s footage.”

“It seems like a pattern,” someone else jumps in, turning their screen towards you. A video plays, but you’re too far away to see much on the dark, grainy video. “The news outlets are reporting there’s reason to believe the Scores are behind it.”

You press your lips together. It’s not the first time in your life you’ve seen a scare like this. Any time the general human public seems to remember that Infracti might hunt them - laws be damned - the news stations fan the flames of a little widespread panic. 

“It’s much more likely that one little group of Infracti have forgotten their manners,” you say, trying to sound mild. “They’ll be arrested. Infracticus doesn’t want trouble with us, I assure you. Or with the ruling family. They were at war for centuries - none of them want to return to that.”

The college kids look at their phones again, clearly unconvinced.

“Remember the unit we did last month?” you remind them, starting to head around your desk to pass out the handout you’d located in the depths of your bag. “When the last war between the Scorns and Ruins ended - when the protection laws were put in place - both houses were barely left standing.”

“I don’t know, Professor,” the first girl says, shaking her head. “If we’ve learned anything, it’s that Infracti history is nothing but wars for power and control of the kingdom. These moments of peace, they don’t last.”

“There were never treaties and laws in place,” you point out. “The human world was never a player in the game. Things are different now.”

She shakes her head again. “History repeats itself,” she intones.

You start to call everyone’s attention, ready to move on and into the planned lecture. But even as you speak, your stomach swirls, unsettled. Namjoon’s words in Dr. Kim’s office playback through your head: we may be walking into the start of Infracti civil war.

“Alright, so, today we’re going to be looking at some Infracti mythology,” you tell the class, as the last few stragglers find empty desks near the sides of the room. It’s a relatively small classroom, not a full lecture hall, for which you’re grateful. “You’re all familiar with the story The Hunter and the Highest?”

Most of the class nods, though a few look uncertain.

“Whether you know it by name or not,” you explain, pacing the front of the room slowly, “you know the story. It’s classic - done and redone through the history of pop culture. Can anyone give us a quick summary?”

“A vampire and a witch fall in love, and all their problems go away,” someone in the third row calls dryly.

You can’t help but laugh a little. “Okay, a little less quickly than that, maybe.”

Someone near the front raises his hand. “Isn’t it a fairy tale? Like, for kids?”

You waggle your head around. “It’s certainly been adapted in that way. But the original text predates all of those adaptations by centuries.”

“It’s about how the Infracti became civilized,” someone else offers.

“That’s closer,” you agree, pointing at them appreciatively. “In the story, Infracti were simply monsters called hunters. A magic-wielder, hunted herself by humans, finds an Infracti and gifts him with humanity. So, it is a tale meant to explain how Infracti changed from the beasts of old to the magical being we recognize today.”

You start passing out texts and give directions. “There are three versions of the myth in this packet,” you explain. “I want you to look through and find the differences, and from there we’ll discuss why those changes may have been made in the retelling.”

The college kids read in silence for a few minutes before the girl with the cell phone videos earlier raises her hand. “The second version calls the magic-wielder priestess,” she provides.

You write this on the whiteboard. “Great find. You’ll notice that the magic-wielders are given a few different names. Priestess is one. Highest is most common, which refers to a high priestess. In that version of the myth, the priestess who found the hunter was the leader, the strongest.”

“The last version calls her witch,” someone adds.

You smile, happy that they cottoned on. “And what do you notice about the chronology of that?”

They look at each other, and then at their pages. You wait.

“Witch is more recent?” someone suggests.

“You got it,” you affirm. “As time went on, as the stories got closer to now, the terminology shifted away from the respectful priestess and into a feared witch. Great observation. What else do you notice?”

“They only fall in love in the newest one,” someone points out. “In both of the early versions the priestess offers a trade.”

“That’s right,” you nod, adding this to the whiteboard. “The older versions of the myth show the magic-wielder trading humanity to the hunter in exchange for his protection against the humans who cast her out. Only in the more recent renditions is it simplified into a love story.”

You slide into the history part of the lesson - the truths that led to the folktale. It’s impossible for anyone to really know what happened in these ancient times - how the Infracti and the magic-wielders really came together for the first time. Regardless, it’s indisputable that from some point in history the two beings had a natural alliance, a symbiotic relationship. The Infracti formed the great houses, established the monarchy, and allowed the magic-wielders to live and practice safely on their land.

Of course, as your students know, the monarchy was only peaceful for a short time. It wasn’t long before the newly civilized Infracti did what civilizations always do: let greed lead them to war. 

–

You sleepwalk through your last two classes, texting Namjoon as promised as soon as you’re finished and solidifying plans to meet for a meal near campus. 

He’s there before you, standing absently on the sidewalk, scrolling on his phone with one hand in his jeans pocket.

“Hi,” you say, approaching. He looks up, clicking the screen on his phone off and sliding it into his pocket before reaching out to shake your hand. “I wanted to introduce myself a little better. I’m -”

“I know who you are,” he says with a smile. “You have a bit of a reputation. Your jaunts around the world with my grandfather are well-documented for the curse-breaking community.”

“Your grandfather?” you echo, and then realize you should have connected those dots. You’d read his business card - Kim Namjoon. “Ah, I should have realized. So, you’re continuing the family business?”

He laughs at this, leading you inside and asking the seating hostess to place you at one of the tables outside. 

You each order a drink and settle in before he finally answers you. “In a way, yes,” he admits. “I was just always around that stuff growing up. I thought it was interesting. Following that interest into college seemed natural, and the fact that it pleased Grandfather so much to have me follow in his footsteps… that was a bonus, of course.”

“That must be nice,” you muse, not really meaning to reveal so much as you add, “My family thinks I have a death wish. They don’t think anything I study has real value.”

Namjoon considers this as the waiter places his beer in front of him, the glass covered in heavy condensation. “That’s sad,” he says finally. “Curse-breaking literally saves lives.”

You shrug. “They don’t see it that way. Neither do I, really. Curse-breaking is just… calculations.” 

He smiles wryly. “I like to think of it as following a recipe.”

You laugh a little. “Without the wiggle room. Imagine following steps like a pinch when working a counter-curse? We’d blow ourselves up.”

He laughs too. “Okay, so it’s not cooking, it’s baking. The measurements matter.” 

You lapse into companionable silence, sipping your drinks, watching the late afternoon slip into evening bit by bit. 

“I need to admit,” he says finally, speaking out into the twilight instead of at you, “I’m really not sure about this.”

You nod. “It’s a lot.”

“Grandfather said you have a lot of knowledge on the Infracti,” Namjoon says thoughtfully.

You nod. “I do. But studying something in books and theory is not the same as walking among them. And the stakes are high.” You sigh. “He’s right… it’s dangerous.”

“Great payout though,” Namjoon mutters, as if he didn’t necessarily mean for you to hear it. And he’s right. The living members of the royal family have been around for centuries. You don’t live that long without amassing a fortune. Whatever reward the King of Ruin has promised, you feel sure you’d never have to work again.

Though you know you still would. 

“That’s true,” you agree quietly. But you’re thinking about the prince, and the curse. Of course the pay-out speaks to you - you have bills to pay, after all. And you’re only human. But the thing about what you do is… well, you love it. 

You love curse-breaking. You love the puzzle, the pieces clicking together just right as you uncover the components of the original curse one at a time. You love the thrill of building your own magic to push back with, love the sizzle of power beneath your undeserving, human fingertips as you cast something meant to strip away someone else’s hatred and leave calm in its place. 

You love having something you’re good at, something you can claim as yours, something to enter a room before you do and demand a sliver of respect you’d never experienced before.

Not to mention… you’ve studied the Infracti and their history and culture for your entire adult life. To get to go there and see it all in person, with the promise of protection, is something beyond your wildest dreams. Infracti can come here if they go through the proper channels - for business or for pleasure, as long as that pleasure isn’t hunting.

But humans typically don’t go to Infracticus. It’s simply too dangerous - statistically, there’s bound to be some rule-breakers, and you’d be walking into their home. This is an opportunity that has never come before, for anyone you’ve ever known in the field.

You think again of your conversation in Dr. Kim’s office earlier. You’d been chosen not for your talent as much as your anonymity. Success on this case would bring you prestige among the curse-breaking community. You’d make a name for yourself, by yourself - not attached to Dr. Kim, overshadowed and forgotten.

“I think I want to do it,” you murmur, and when Namjoon whips around to look at you, wide-eyed, you realize you’ve spoken out loud. 

“You should sleep on it,” he says, repeating his grandfather’s words from earlier. “Y/N, you could be walking to your death.”

“That’s the case every time,” you point out. “Besides, the royal family obviously wants us to succeed - they want the prince to be healed. I’m sure they’ll use their wealth and power to keep us safe. If anything happens to us, he’s screwed, right?”

Namjoon shakes his head, runs his hand down his face. “This is insane,” he intones. “This is insane. We can’t just waltz into Infracticus and pretend we belong there -”

“Again,” you say, more firmly this time, more and more sure of your decision by the second. “They want our success. They’re going to do everything they can to mitigate the risk of our cover being blown, right? They have more to gain from our success than we do. Seriously, think about it.”

“Oh, I’m thinking,” Namjoon mutters.

“I’m going to tell him yes,” you say decisively. “No pressure. Make the decision that’s best for you.”

“Yeah,” Namjoon mutters, swirling the last dregs of his beer around the bottom of his glass, voice glum. “Yeah. I’m… I don’t know. I’m not sure.”

–

Your first class the next day is early; you clutch a travel mug of coffee and watch the city pass by outside your window with barely-open eyes. You’re even earlier than normal, because you want to stop by Dr. Kim’s office on your way and give him your answer.

His door is open when you arrive, and you knock, though normally you’d just stroll in.

He looks up, startled by the noise, then softens when he sees it’s you. You feel a rush of affection for the old man; over the last ten years of your life, he’s been more of a father to you than your own family. 

“I want to go,” you tell him, proud when your voice comes out sure and steady, when inside you feel uncertain and wobbly. 

Dr. Kim takes off his glasses and places them on the desk before him, rubs at his eyes, and replaces them. “I don’t know how to feel,” he finally admits with a chuckle. “I both want you to accept, and don’t. On one hand, I know you’ll handle the situation, and I’ll be so proud… but the danger…”

“I trust the royal family,” you say evenly. “If they say they’ll give us protection, I’ve got to trust that. I can’t not help - not if I’m their best shot at success.”

Dr. Kim shakes his head, looking out his window at the rising sun to the east. “I suppose I trust the royal family, too,” he muses, “or I wouldn’t have even told you about the case.” He turns to look at you again, seems to brace himself, snap into business-mode. “Very well. When do your classes end today? We have many things to debrief before you leave.”

–

You spend almost six hours in Dr. Kim’s office after giving your last lecture of the day - so long, in fact, that he orders delivery and you sneak bites of dinner between textbook pages as he helps you prepare for the trip as best he can. 

You review Infracti niceties - greetings, things that are considered polite, habits, mannerisms. You also get a crash course in current affairs, learning everything the human public knows about the current royal family. 

“Prince Taehyung was born Infracti, not turned from human,” Dr. Kim explains. “His bloodline - the bloodline of the royal family, of the Ruins - goes back… beyond written history. His powers will be strong, and so will his influence.”

“Did they tell you any details about the curse? What symptoms he’s exhibiting?” you ask curiously, flipping the page of the book you have open on the table.

Dr. Kim nods slowly, thinking as he speaks. “It appears he loses his sense of self between midnight and dawn each day,” he explains. “Becomes… the basest of his kind. They’ve been keeping him quite literally locked up each night to stop him from harming others.”

You ponder this, unable to get Namjoon’s words from yesterday out of your head. “I suppose if you wanted to dethrone a prince… turning him into a murderer might be one way.”

“Our job isn’t to solve who caused it,” Dr. Kim reminds you gently. “Just to cure him.”

You spend the rest of the night poring over brittle texts, taking pages and pages of notes on similar cases, curses that only show up in the afflicted at certain times, curses that cause violence or the desire to do harm, curses that make you lose sight of who you are. You write down the causes, the layers that may be present. You write down how they’ve been busted in the past, tactics that have proven successful.

You write down a list of everything you may need to pack. 

It’s nearing nine p.m. when you’re startled by a light knock on the office door. You look up from where you’re scrawling shampoo, conditioner, toothpaste, bar soap, to find Namjoon standing in the doorway.

He greets his grandfather warmly and gives you a polite nod hello.

“I don’t suppose you’re here to tell me you want to stay home,” Dr. Kim says dryly, and Namjoon gives him a sheepish smile.

“No,” he admits. “I’m going to go.”

Dr. Kim sighs, nodding like he expected this all along. “Very well,” he says, waving a hand at the papers you have spread across the table. “Come take a picture of the packing list. I’ll escort you two to the Ostium tomorrow morning, before sunrise.”

The Ostium is a temple built from sand-colored stone, guarded by carved stone lions, fangs bared in a roar. You’ve been inside twice before, for your studies. You’ve never seen it in action. Right now it’s too dark to see the statues clearly - it’s hours before dawn. You napped more than slept, and it was fitful at best. 

You pull a wheeled carry-on size piece of black luggage, and you see a bulging duffle bag hanging across Namjoon’s back. Dr. Kim comes empty-handed and long-faced. You’re surprised that someone is there, now, when it is technically the middle of the night. But, then again, your arrival was scheduled - you are invited, expected. 

The woman who stands before the altar at the rear of the small room is obviously an Infracti. She doesn’t hide behind mortal eyes, as she could if she chose to. Instead of whites, her eyes are fathomless pools of black, swimming and shifting like inky ocean depths. There’s an unearthly quickness to the movements her body makes, as if she has to remind herself to move slowly and forgets each time a move is instinctual instead of deliberate. 

“Welcome,” she says. There’s a heaviness to her accent, a give-away that whoever she is, she’s old enough to have spoken the Infracti’s original language. “What business?”

“Good morning,” Dr. Kim says, and all three of you give a quick nod hello. “I am Dr. Kim from the university.”

“Yes,” she says, nodding in recognition. “We were expecting you. Welcome. You’ve come with the curse-breakers?”

Dr. Kim opens his hand, indicating both you and Namjoon. He introduces you both by name and she inclines her head in greeting. 

“It’s a pleasure to meet you,” she says to you both. “Do you know how to cross?” 

Your pulse sings; you don’t think you’ve ever been this nervous about anything in your life. 

“In theory,” you tell her.

She gives you a tight half-smile. “It’s quite straight-forward. In that case, you can say goodbye here and I’ll escort you through.”

You’re surprised when Dr. Kim wraps you in a hug. “Please be careful,” he begs as he releases you and turns his attention to his grandson. “Don’t let your guard down. Do the job, and leave. Watch each other’s backs. Don’t get tangled up in anything besides breaking the curse.”

You exchange an uneasy look with Namjoon over Dr. Kim’s shoulders. In over ten years of your professional relationship, you’ve never seen a display of emotion from him. Not even when you and he were in the thick of the rainforest, faced with a nearly impossible puzzle and never-ending, bone-chilling rain.

The Infracti woman opens a door to the left of the altar, sliding a slab of stone sideways with just the wave of her hand. If you didn’t know better, you’d think it was simply a sensor. You step through, Namjoon behind you, and she pauses in the doorway. The door slides shut behind you, leaving you alone. 

A smaller altar, made of the same sand-colored stone, sits unassuming in the center of the tiny room. A curved blade, no longer than your own hand, with a bejeweled hilt sits atop the stone. 

You give Namjoon a grim, sideway look. “You know what to do?” you ask him.

He nods, letting out a shaky breath. “Yeah,” he says.

“It’s archaic,” you grumble.

“They didn’t want humans landing there by accident.”

“I get it,” you admit. “But still.”

He lets out a second slow breath between his teeth, shaking his hands a little as if to rid them of nerves. You feel yourself slide into your professional self.

“You want me to do it?” you offer. 

He considers this, then nods. You each stand on one side of the altar, and you lift the blade. No sense in delaying it, you slice through the palm of your hand quickly, hissing between your teeth as you do. Namjoon is ready, palm extended.

“Sorry,” you mutter in advance, and then imitate the cut across his large palm. He makes no noise, but clenches his jaw as you set the blade back where it came from.

“Right to left, not left to right,” you remind him quietly. “At the same time. You ready?”

He nods, curt, and then in one motion you each wipe your bloody palms across the stone - the red smears creating parallel arcs, a cave painting, an ancient expression of your will.

To your left, there is no sound or sign of motion. But the stone wall that closed you in is no longer there.

Now you’re the one battling nerves. You feel your hands shake at your sides, and you fumble for the handle of your luggage. Namjoon comes up beside you and places a gentle hand at the top of your back.

“We’ve got this,” he assures you. 

You nod, looking up over your shoulder to meet his gaze. “Yeah,” you say, though you’re not sure if it’s a lie. “Okay. Let’s go.”

–

You did not go down, and yet you pass through the door and stand in an Ostium close to the grand palace of Infracticus, the underworld inhabited by all of the Infracti - the Ruins, the Scorns, the Leaves, and all the families whose names didn’t earn a spot in history books, but who have been here all along regardless.

You step into the tiny atrium, pulling your little suitcase behind you. An Infracti man greets you, asking to see identification. As if the wrong person could accidentally slice their hand and magically enter. 

“There’s transportation waiting just outside,” the Infracti tells you after he verifies that you are indeed the humans he was waiting for. “We ask that you wear these to conceal your identities.” He hands you each a hooded cloak. You bite back a joke that it’s the vampires who are supposed to wear these, not the humans, but the tiny smile plays across your face unchecked. 

The Infracti must understand your expression, because he leans in a little and lowers his voice. “Please understand that we were charged with keeping your presence an absolute secret. This is why we’ve scheduled your arrival for the middle of the night, why we are trying to hide your faces from anyone who may be out and about at odd hours. This is for your own safety as much as anything.”

You wonder at the truth of this. What is the priority - protecting you, as a human? Or protecting the prince’s secret? 

Outside, as promised, you’re greeted with the sight of a carriage, like it’s dropped straight out of a historical drama. It’s hard to see, as dark as it is, but you glimpse swirling gold patterns along the trim. Two Infracti men jump down from the front and take the luggage right from your hands. Wordlessly, then move around to the back of the carriage and begin placing your bag and Namjoon’s into thick trunks with ornate carvings that seem to match the carriage’s.

“Have we gone back in time?” Namjoon asks you, barely audible.

Of course the Infracti can hear him. One of them turns, black eyes narrowing. “There is no need for your technology here,” he says flatly. “Our command of magic does more than your electricity and internet ever will.”

“I didn’t mean to offend,” Namjoon says, a little stilted. The Infracti doesn’t reply, face blank and unreadable, and shakes the trunks once to make sure they’re latched properly before walking back towards the front of the carriage. You shoot Namjoon a sympathetic look.

Most humans back home can go their whole lives without really interacting with magic or magical people. Of course it’s there, but people with no relationship to magic tend to not notice - their minds explain away the magical. If you hadn’t been interested in Infracticus, you wouldn’t have learned about their magical abilities, wouldn’t have followed that interest into introductory courses on curses and curse-breaking that would end up shaping your life. 

It’s a shame, though. Like you, non-magical people can still use and manipulate the universe’s magic if they learn how. The skill is called borrowing - and while there’s theory and procedure behind it, anyone should be able to borrow once they know how. You’ve never understood why so many of your kind turn away from this possibility. It wasn’t easy for you to learn, necessarily, but it wasn’t impossible either. 

“We’ll be at the palace in about twenty minutes,” the remaining Infracti, the shorter of the two, tells you. “You’ll be entering through a lower-level entrance - not the main doors. From there, we’ll take you directly to your chambers.”

“Okay,” you say. “We understand. Then once we’re there - then what? Will we be meeting with the prince?”

“You’ll have some time to unpack and sleep more, if you wish,” he says, tilting his head as he considers this. “I was told that you have an audience with the royal family before the midday meal. You will be escorted there by your guards.”

You and Namjoon both murmur your understanding, and the Infracti reaches to open the carriage’s side door, indicating that you should enter. 

As you step closer, you find yourself freezing in place, eyes going wide as you notice what’s pulling the carriage. The hooves of their front two legs paw at the ground restlessly, as they toss their cerulean manes. Their eyes swirl black like the Infracti who domesticated them. Their muscular bodies taper to powerful, curled fishtails that float about a foot above the ground, held aloft by their own magic. 

“Are they… sea-goats?” Namjoon asks next to you, inching closer to get a better look.

“They’re called amarisca,” you whisper, so awed you can barely speak. Something else you’d only read about in books, something else that had felt like fairy tales, myths, not something that would ever appear in front of you, so close that you can smell their animal musk, the unpleasant tang of their saliva as they chomp at their bits. “They’re not half goat, they’re half horse - look at the faces.”

You’re mesmerized, eyes scanning the beautiful animals, examining their wild eyes, the hues of blue in their fur, the tough scales of their rippling tails. The Infracti holding the door open clears his throat impatiently. 

“Sorry,” you say, and Namjoon moves to the carriage. You stay one more second, entranced, before hurrying to follow him into the carriage. The Infracti closes the door behind you and moments later the carriage jerks into motion, carrying you towards the palace of Infracticus. 

–

You don’t speak in the carriage; you’re exhausted, you’re terrified, you’re exhilarated. It’s all too much, and none of it meshes well together. You don’t think you could carry on a rational conversation with Namjoon if your life depended on it. Luckily, he closes his eyes and leans his head back. You don’t know if he sleeps, but by the time the carriage finally comes to a stop, you haven’t spoken at all. 

The door is opened by the same man who closed it, and he holds out a hand to help you down, which strikes you as nice. 

“Thank you,” you murmur. It’s still very dark, and the taller Infracti hurries you through an opened stone door. The other Infracti follows, carrying the trunk holding yours and Namjoon’s belongings as if it weighs nothing.

To him, it must not. 

The two men lead you deeper into the palace, wordlessly stalking down corridors, around corners, down nondescript, stone stairways. 

After you’ve walked for what feels like quite a while - long enough that you are thoroughly lost - they stop before two decorated doors. The doors go from floor to ceiling, ornate patterns carved into the thick wood. The golden handles gleam in the low lighting. 

Two more Infracti - one a woman, one a man - stand guard, flanking the doorway, their backs ramrod straight, their black eyes fathomless. 

“You’ll have security at your doors at all times,” the shorter Infracti tells the two of you quietly. “This is Satuel and Dansoo.” He indicates the woman, then the man respectively as he says their names. “As well as keeping you safe in your quarters, they’ll also be your point of contact should you have any requests.”

“The concierge,” you joke, and you’re cowed into silence when four sets of emotionless black eyes turn to you, silently. Beside you, Namjoon shifts just slightly away, as if to distance himself from the embarrassment. Traitor. 

Satuel and Dansoo move to pull the doors open, and you enter, letting them fall closed behind Namjoon, who takes up the rear. The guards stay in the corridor, keeping the monsters out. Or, at least, the bad ones. 

You look around the main room. Everything drips in deep jewel tones and gold plating. Even the furniture seems too expensive to be real, too expensive to touch. Two couches and a wingback chair circle a low table, all of which sit beside a large heath with a roaring fire. Behind the couches is a high table with two wooden chairs - an eating area, you think. The far wall sports a water feature - water trickling down the wall and ending in a peaceful fountain, rich with floating plants.

You come back to yourself when Namjoon nudges your elbow, shooting you an apologetic look that seems to say, sorry, but I had to. 

“Your personal rooms are this way,” the Infracti is saying, in a tone like perhaps he is repeating himself. “You’ll find space for sleeping and bathing, as well as a small study.”

“Thank you,” you say, looking around. “This is beautiful.”

He bows his head at this, pleased. “If there’s anything you need, just inform one of your guards - they’ll see it done. For meals, if you have any particular preferences, you can tell the staff and it will be prepared for you, going forward.” 

This is wild, you think. This must be a fucking dream. It feels like you’re on a once-in-a-lifetime vacation, the kind you would never be able to afford in real life. The only catch is that everyone at this destination has the ability and natural instinct to want to eat you. 

“Thank you, that’s very considerate,” Namjoon says to your right, and once again you’re flooded with relief that he’s here with you, that one of you can be normal.

The two Infracti start to make their way towards the doors, prepared to leave you alone. “Someone will fetch you before your audience with the royal family,” the spokesperson tells you. He indicates what time you should be ready, and they slip from the doors, leaving you and Namjoon alone. 

Your wounded hand drips onto the floor. You’d forgotten about it - in the Ostium, in the carriage, in your new rooms. But now, in the quiet, you remember that you’d paid in blood to enter this dream.

“Do you think it’s hard for them?” Namjoon asks, eyeing his own bloody palm. “To resist?”

You leave your suitcase in the middle of the open room and start poking around for a bathroom. “It might not be hard,” you call over your shoulder to him. “If they’ve followed the protection laws, then they may have never hunted a human in their entire lives. But I’m sure they notice. I think it’d be like walking past a bakery and being like, damn, those rolls smell good, but you don’t break the window and murder the rolls, you know?”

Namjoon laughs. “I guess that’s true. If you want one bad enough, you go in and buy it.”

“Exactly,” you say, a bit of triumph in your voice as you find a bathroom. You wash your hand, letting the blood rinse down the drain, and then return to the main room, kicking over your suitcase and unzipping it, rummaging for a t-shirt you can use as a bandage. 

“Go wash that,” you instruct. “I’ll rip this and we can share it.”

“My hero,” he says dryly, and disappears into what you assume is a mirror-image of your own bedroom and bathroom. 

The Infracti who’d brought you here had recommended that you get some more sleep, and you know it’s a good idea after the barely-three-hours you’d logged last night. But you’re too anxious and keyed up to even hold still, let alone rest. Instead, you spend some time unpacking - putting your clothing and toiletries away, and then setting up books and paper in the small office. By the time it occurs to you that you might want to clean yourself up before being presented to the royal family, it’s too late. 

This time, your guards escort you. You walk in silence, full of nerves. You want to try to chat with the guards, pepper them with questions, but you get the idea that they aren’t meant to be too friendly with you. 

When you reach the throne room, the guards that are already in place move over, making room for yours. They stand, straight-backed and stoic, and the woman - Satuel - lifts a hand to show that you should enter. 

You take a shuddering breath and look sideways at Namjoon. His face has gone a funny color, and his jaw juts slightly as he clenches it.

“We’ll be fine,” you tell him quietly. “Shake off the nerves. Let’s go be professionals.”

He looks at you like you’re a little crazy. Maybe you are. “No one’s ever done this,” he says a bit hollowly. “You know that, right?”

“Which part?” you ask, cocking an eyebrow.

He laughs under his breath and starts to move forward through the decorated doorway and into the empty, echoing throne room. 

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thank you so much for reading!!! i promise taehyung is IN the next chapter lmaooo :') i hope you liked this one and you can expect things to start moving very soon!!

[harrowreads]

alright. it is time.

i have been foaming at the MOUTH for this series but i have not had the time/energy to sit down and do some reading. but that time is now!!! i got my water and my bowl of fruit let's goooooo!!!!!!!!

He was undeniably beautiful - or would have been, if it weren’t for the blood, black like ink in this light, running in rivulets from his mouth down to his chin. Could have been, if not for the inhuman growls and snarls that rippled from his chest like the start of an antique lawn mower, if not for the way his eyes were glossy black, no pupils or irises visible at all. Could have been, if not for the inhumanly long incisors ending below his curled upper lip.

OH MY GOD I AM HOOKED. everything about this passage is so beautiful and grotesque AHHHHHHH!!!!!!!!

(spoilers below!)

omg i am fascinated. i thought that the curse would be plain ol' human inflicted with vampirism but he's already not quite a normal human. what a fun twist on a classic trope!!! i also love how there is an ancient underground civilization beneath a modern landscape.

presenting the lore of these families through the rules of a children's game is so clever.

OH MY GOD, OKAY this is such a weird little walk down memory lane but did you ever watch Relic Hunter with Tia Carrere? it was like a late late night cable show in the early 2000s and they were like archelogy professors i think, who were sent around the world to find relics and hijinks always ensued lmaooooooo. the vibes are so so different but i thought of it during the scene where we meet Namjoon. 😅 this imdb blurb is killing me "Sydney Fox is a university professor and black belt who globe-trots after lost, stolen and rumored to exist artifacts and antiquities." ugh they don't make tv like they used to. 😂😂😂

OK I AM SO SORRY LMAO BACK TO THE FIC.

man. this is so interesting!!! i love the world you have created and i cannot wait for more!!! 💜💜💜 (since it's like 2am, i will queue these to post in the morning lolol.)

Of Ruin: Chapter 1 || KTH

(banner by @/itaeewon)

Of Ruin (Masterpost)

Rating: NSFW - minors dni Genre: vampire!au magic!au royalty!au, s2l, slow burn, eventual smut, angst and fluff

Summary: Taehyung of House Rune, Prince of Infracticus has been cursed. You’re the human world’s leading curse-breaker. It should be simple. But unraveling the curse becomes the least of your problems in the face of a world on the brink of civil war… and the love you start to feel for the prince.

A/N: Thank you endlessly to @/sailoryooons for betaing!!! 💕

//

Section Warnings: vampire hunting and killing, blood and gore in vampire attacks, language

WC: 5.7k

Maggie’s mother always told her nothing good happens after midnight. Maggie disagreed. Lots of good things happened after midnight. Usually in bars with loud music, her friends’ laughter ringing in her ears and a little too much alcohol singing in her bloodstream. 

That was the case tonight - and the night had been wonderful. She and Farrah had still been going strong at midnight, throwing back shots in tandem. The DJ had been stellar and they’d danced until their feet hurt. And, the piece de resistance, they’d run into that guy from their Econ class - the one with the dark eyes and killer smile. He’d stayed with them the whole tail end of the night - even offered to walk them home, back to their apartment building. 

He’d stayed with them, but his eyes had been on Maggie. And when, on the walk home, Farrah skipped ahead of them, buzzed and happy, he’d tugged on her hand and kissed her sweetly, right there on the sidewalk.

Nothing good happens after midnight, who? 

And then, something weird happened. The stretch of sidewalk seemed suddenly darker, as if there was something between them and the flickering streetlight - like netting, or mist. It seemed, suddenly, that the lack of light was an entity - alive, all around them, shifting and changing and wanting. 

“Farrah,” Maggie called, the hairs on her arms starting to stand. She’d only been a bit ahead of them, but somehow Maggie was having a hard time seeing her friend. Econ Guy put his arm around Maggie’s shoulders protectively, glancing around them.

But there was nothing to see except darkness that felt darker.

“What in the fuck?” he muttered, and then two things happened so quickly that to Maggie’s human eyes, it seemed to be at once: a bit of darkness moved much too fast just in front of her, and Farrah’s body slumped to the ground.

“Farrah!” Maggie screamed, her breath caught in her throat. She started towards her friend’s motionless body, but she was tugged back. Econ Guy was pointing at Farrah’s body, his mouth moving like he was trying to make a word, but couldn’t. Maggie looked again, closer. 

The darkness that had moved was bent over Farrah’s body, obscuring their view of her shoulder and face. Maggie’s heart beat so hard in her chest that it hurt, and a tingling she associated with panic started in her fingertips as her body pleaded with her to run.

“What is it?” Maggie whispered in horror. Beside her, Econ Guy made a choked sound and took a step backwards, his arm falling away from her, all pretenses of toughness vanishing. 

At the sound of her hushed question, it looked at them, head snapping up, the motion sharp and jerky. Then, it clambered to its feet, stepping over Farrah’s body and staggering towards them. As it approached, Maggie could see it - him - for the first time.

He was undeniably beautiful - or would have been, if it weren’t for the blood, black like ink in this light, running in rivulets from his mouth down to his chin. Could have been, if not for the inhuman growls and snarls that rippled from his chest like the start of an antique lawn mower, if not for the way his eyes were glossy black, no pupils or irises visible at all. Could have been, if not for the inhumanly long incisors ending below his curled upper lip.

“Infracti,” Maggie said hollowly. 

Beside her, Econ Guy found his voice again. “Hey,” he said sternly. “You can’t hunt here. It’s against the law.”

The Infracti stalked closer, unblinking, then stopped a few feet before them. Its upper lip was curled in what looked like disgust, displaying its most fearsome weapons clearly. Maggie’s entire body shook and she dropped to the ground, her legs refusing to hold her up - let alone to run. 

Not that she could outrun an Infracti. 

The beast looked at them evenly, then stuck out its tongue and languidly - as if putting on a show - licked its lips, sucking a few more drops of Farrah’s blood into its mouth. Maggie didn’t see the monster move, but suddenly Econ Guy was screaming, arms flailing as he tried and failed to shove the Infracti away from his body. The Infracti’s long fingers gripped his upper arms tightly, holding Econ Guy in place, its frightening face buried in the crook of his neck. 

The scream fizzled to a sob. The Infracti opened its hands - fingers splayed purposefully as it emptied them - and its victim’s body hit the pavement. The sound - a round, weighty thud - echoed through Maggie’s head as the Infracti turned to face her. Its all-black eyes seemed calculating, in their own way. Still on the ground, Maggie was almost face to face with Econ Guy’s corpse. His eyes were still wide and frightened, though unseeing. 

The Infracti stepped closer to her, gently, carefully, and then it crouched down, swirling black eyes meeting hers. The growls subsided, and Maggie thought wildly that it looked almost thoughtful. Her heart wasn’t beating anymore as much as vibrating. Her breaths were so shallow they barely counted, and the night swam around her. 

When Maggie was seven, her grandmother was mugged while they were walking together. In the moment, her grandmother had tossed her purse into the street, and grabbed Maggie’s hand to run when the thief lunged for the bag. When Maggie asked about it later, in that way that kids do, her grandmother had explained to her, “He wasn’t interested in you or me. He was interested in my money. I gave him what he wanted, so he left me alone.”

Now, eye to eye with a beast straight out of her nightmares, Maggie saw her grandmother’s face, heard her sweet voice. I gave him what he wanted, so he left me alone. Tentatively, she held out her wrist, veins up. The beast moved like liquid again, a shifting of darkness, until he was closer to her, her wrist clutched tight in his cool grasp. Then, gently, as if he were a gentleman kissing the back of her hand in greeting, he brought her wrist to his lips and let his fangs pierce the flesh.

Taehyung wakes to a shout; he becomes aware of the pain before anything else. His head throbs, his throat feels like there’s glass in it, his shoulders and back ache like he’s carried marble slabs all night. 

It’s a uniquely human curse to question, and Taehyung isn’t human, but he immediately tries to figure out why he hurts from head to toe. Especially since he hasn’t hurt in several centuries. 

He shoots a quick glance around to see what he can figure out without moving. Right away it’s clear that he is not in bed. He is on the floor, the stone cool beneath his palms. A servant is crouched near him, repeating his name but smart enough not to touch him.

He can tell, as his blurry vision clears bit by bit, that he’s definitely in the palace proper, though not in a wing he frequents. The floor beneath him is just stone - no marble, no thick carpeting - which indicates he’s not in a living-quarters wing. The walls, however, hang with vibrant tapestries and oil portraits, gilded sconces lighting the way every few feet. Most definitely still the palace.

“Why am I here?” he manages to croak.

The servant turns over his shoulder and shouts to someone, “Alert the King!”

This is the first moment that Taehyung feels alarm atop the pain. He struggles to sit up, takes stock of his surroundings. The same servant still hovers near, face pinched with something akin to fear. 

How did I end up on the floor? 

Not only that - he isn’t even entirely sure where in the sprawling palace he is.

When he hears approaching footsteps and recognizes the sharp, staccato clicks and clacks, he almost sags back to the floor in relief. Instead, he pushes himself to standing, a wave of dizziness sweeping over him and then ebbing just in time for him to incline his head and intone, “Mother.”

Despite the centuries that have passed since Taehyung was small, something affectionate and maternal remains in the Queen. She presses cool palms to Taehyung’s cheeks and looks him up and down. She winces at something she sees. “Darling,” she says, the word lilting in the strange accent she has, one that belongs to a language long-dead. “What were you thinking?”

It takes Taehyung a moment to articulate a response. He’s frightened - something quite new to him - and he isn’t sure the correct move to make in this situation. The fear toys with logic, makes the answer slippery, hard to grasp.

He settles on the truth. “I don’t know what happened,” he says. “I mean - I can’t remember. I don’t know how I got here.”

He doesn’t ask, did something happen. It’s obvious that something did. 

He hears his father, Sunjae of Rune, King of Infracticus, long before he enters the room, his authoritative voice barking questions and orders.

“How far has word spread?”

“There was only one witness. She’s in custody.”

“Handle her and send her back,” the King snaps. “As quickly as possible. Where is my son?”

This last question is roared as he finally enters the high-ceilinged corridor where his wife and son stand.

“I’m here,” Taehyung says, needlessly. 

The King sizes him up, eyes narrowed, chest puffed. “What do you have to say for yourself?” he spits finally. 

Taehyung clears his throat and then ventures, “For starters… I’d really like to know what happened.”

The King’s face slides from fury to something befuddled, his hands sinking to his sides like sails in the absence of wind.

–

Taehyung’s father leads them back to their private wing and closes them into a dimly lit room that houses floor to ceiling bookshelves full of tomes so old they’d crumble to dust if you dared to touch them. A fire roars in the hearth for aesthetics only - Taehyung’s kind can’t feel cold. 

He locks the door and turns to face them. Taehyung’s mother has sunk delicately onto a fainting couch, and she watches her son sharply. 

Taehyung feels itchy under her gaze. She’s the smartest of the three of them, and Taehyung knows it even if his father doesn’t.

“You’re telling me,” the King growls, low, “that you don’t remember any of it?”

“I was in my wing,” Taehyung promises. “Sometime near midnight. That’s the last thing I remember, until I woke up on the floor in a random hallway -”

The King and Queen exchange a look, an entire conversation in just a glance. Then, the King heaves a deep breath, pinching the bridge of his nose between his fingers. 

Then, the Queen ventures, “The Elders should see him.”

The King grumbles something under his breath.

She tries again. “He could be ill. He could be going mad. We need to know!”

“Will someone please tell me what’s happened?” Taehyung bursts out, finally unable to take it - the anxiety, the questions, the conversation about him but not involving him, all of it.

“You went rogue,” the King says dryly, his eyes on the dancing fire instead of his son.

Taehyung feels his stomach drop. “Meaning?”

“Exactly what he said,” the Queen says, something steely in her tone. “You went above, alone, and… hunted.”

Taehyung feels his legs turn to stone. His stomach twists and a wave of nausea rocks him. “I what?” he asks, but it comes out like a gasp. The sides of the room are starting to go black and he breathes slowly, one hand gripping the back of the couch.

Silence expands, filling the room. Taehyung’s stomach lurches, and he closes his eyes.

“Did… did I -?”

“You took two humans and left a third alive. We have teams cleaning up, up there, and we’ve got the spare here -”

Took two humans.

The spare.

Taehyung’s stomach twists again. The black creeping at the edge of his vision draws closer to the center. Taehyung loses sight of his father’s face in the encroaching darkness. 

“Darling, we’ve covered up incidents like this countless times. No one will know. We’ll make sure.” The Queen’s voice is soothing, bringing to Taehyung’s mind all the times when he was a child when she would hurry to calm him.

Taehyung shakes his head. “That’s not what I’m concerned about.”

“You didn’t know you were doing it,” the King muses - his next problem to solve, not a placation to reassure his guilt-stricken son. “We must uncover the cause.”

“The Elders,” the Queen says again, insistently. “At least let them give him a medical once-over.”

The King sighs in defeat. “I suppose we have no choice. Wait in your rooms, Taehyung. I’ll summon the Elders at once. The sooner we find out what came over you, the better.”

—

Taehyung is in his wing when Jimin comes – uncalled, unbidden, simply as if he sensed his best friend’s distress. And perhaps he had – the Infracti have shown stranger powers before.

“I heard you had a bit of an adventure,” he says carelessly, flopping sideways along Taehyung’s favorite leather couch, feet propped on the armrest, as he has millions of times over hundreds of years.

“News travels fast,” Taehyung says bitterly.

Jimin smiles indulgently, used to his moody friend. “Not so. But they called on Seokjin to help wipe the memory of the girl who survived before they sent her back.”

Taehyung blanches. “That’s illegal.”

Jimin gives him a dirty look and a scoff to accompany it. “Please,” he says dismissively. “You can’t be that naïve, not in your position.”

The Queen’s words run back through Taehyung’s mind. We’ve covered up incidents like this countless times.

He sulks. “They shouldn’t be breaking treaty laws over me,” he grumbles.

Jimin lets out a sigh. “If rules can be bent for anyone, shouldn’t they be for you? Besides…” He sits up, looks at Taehyung more seriously. “It’s not like one of us went up there willingly, like… on purpose. If someone decided to just fuck the protection laws and go hunting, I’d obviously object to a cover-up. But that isn’t the case here. Something happened to you. They’re not covering up a crime, they’re recovering from an accident.”

An accident. He’d killed two innocent people. Nearly killed a third.

Taehyung drops onto a chair near Jimin’s feet, covering his face with his hands. “Truly,” he says hollowly, the words muffled by his palms, “I have never in over six hundred years felt this deeply guilty about something. Jimin, I killed people. Me. I did that.”

It’s an understatement. There aren’t words – not in any language, dead or alive – to describe the deep, crawling self-hatred Taehyung feels. There’s no phrase for the twist and ache in his stomach when he pictures the scene above-ground – bodies limp on the ground, the echo of screams from the survivor floating away into the uncaring night, blood thick and metallic on his tongue, a wild flash in his eyes.

Jimin shakes his head, lips protruding in a pronounced pout. “It wasn’t you. We all know that.”

“Those people are dead and the fault is only my own,” Taehyung says firmly.

“You weren’t yourself,” Jimin insists. “What did the Elders say?”

The Elders are terrifying, is Taehyung’s take-away. His own father is thousands of years old, and looks like a child in comparison. Infracti are not immortal; rather, under the right circumstances - and often with the help of the magic they can control - they can live for tens of thousands of years. The oldest Infracti that Taehyung knows - not counting the Elders, as he doesn’t know them - is around thirty thousand years old, and weaker every day. The Elders, whose ages Taehyung doesn’t actually know, seem so fragile they might be made of dust, particles held together by magic and force of will. He’d showered three times after leaving them just to get the icky shudders to stop.

“That I’m not ill and I’m not mad,” Taehyung recites dryly, finally removing his hands from his face.

“Which leaves what possibilities?” Jimin asks with a frown.

Taehyung shrugs. “They’re meeting about it right now. I’ve been told to stay in my own wing.”

Jimin squawks. “For how long?”

“Until they’re sure it won’t happen again, I suppose,” Taehyung guesses with a small shrug. “Or until they’ve come up with an answer.”

“Lovely,” Jimin quips sarcastically, and moves to rise. “Well, I’ll check in on you later this evening. I’m sure you’ll be bored, cooped up in here.”

“I’d rather be bored than -”

“I know.” Something new creeps into Jimin’s voice – some kindness, some understanding. “It wasn’t your fault, Taehyung. You didn’t do it on purpose.”

Taehyung gives him a nod and sees him out, his stomach twisting and roiling. Only one of those things, he knows, is true.

Sunlight and fresh air assault you as you make your way slowly down the city block, the messenger bag around your body laden with thick books and hastily scribbled notes. The ache in your shoulder from carrying it has been part of your existence for so long that you barely notice it anymore.

You pass a bank and glance at the screen displaying today’s date and temperature, followed by the time. It indicates that you’ve somehow ended up here between buses. You’ll have to wait a bit for the next one.

At least it’s nice out, you think, and settle onto a bench just across from your bus stop. It backs up to a park, and you watch as people bustle by, most of them glued to their phone screens or carrying on conversations into their earpods. In the park, a group of kids is playing loudly, shouts and shrieks rising towards the cloudless blue sky.

“Songie’s team, you’re the Runes!” someone shouts, and it grabs your attention. You smile, watching them gather and form groups.

“It’s not Runes,” someone corrects snottily. “It’s Ruins.”

Actually, you think, hiding a little smile, the proper pronunciation of the powerful Infraci family falls somewhere between the two words. 

The ancient language of Infracticus has phonics that most modern people struggle with. As a result, there tends to be two schools of thought regarding pronunciation. Commonly, the families are called the Runes, the Cleaves, and the Scores. At the university that you’d attended, at which you now work, they’d taught you Ruins, Leaves, and Scorns.

But it’s all the same, really.

You watch the game for some time. It’s a lot like freeze tag, and you remember playing it in the schoolyard as a kid. Teams – one Runes and one Scores – try to cross a field past each other without getting tagged and frozen. Teams had elected members called Cleaves, who were the only players who could unfreeze another.

It’s funny, you’ve always thought, how the actual history of the three Infracti families translated into the rules of the children’s game. To be historically accurate, it should have been three teams – Cleaves wouldn’t be members of Runes or Scores but their own faction altogether.

However, you do wonder if their ability to unfreeze players is derived from the Cleaves’ ability to heal, something the other two bloodlines have never possessed.

And is it coincidence that the game became the Runes versus the Scores, when those two families had a particularly ugly blood feud, millennia ago? 

All three families have vied for power at one point or another – most known history of the Infacti includes this never-ending power struggle. But the Runes have managed to hold court since the time the protection laws were passed, the ones that both protect humans from being hunted and bans those same humans from doing the hunting. The ones that decree quarterly blood donations from every adult human to ensure there’s never a shortage that could lead to hunting. The ones that declare the monarchy follows only the Runes’ royal bloodline.

Hunting - both of and by Infracti - still happens, of course. There’s no such thing as utopia. But at least now there are consequences when an Infracti attacks a human, and consequences when humans turn to violence to drive Infracti out of their communities.

Questions like this, constant curiosity about the Infracti culture and history, had carried you through dual degrees studying the history and sociology of the Infracti. Now, after nearly a decade of your adult years spent in academics, you tote multiple degrees, including extensive experience with both curses and counter-curses.

Your family hates it - never understood it. Your mother has called it an obsession time and time again. But neither she nor your father can argue with the career opportunities in academia that you’ve been afforded, now that you’re full-time staff at the university.

And they don’t even know about the other opportunities that keep falling at your feet: more and more curse-breaking cases as the years pass. The more your reputation and success rate grow, the more your name seems to be passed around. You think your mother would faint on the spot if she knew that only two months ago your team had flown into deep Brazilian jungle and helped them to cast the counter-curse that freed an entire village from unending rain. 

When the bus finally pulls in, bringing with it a warm breeze and the smell of gasoline, you rise, hefting your bag higher on your shoulder and searching for a seat. It’s about twenty minutes to campus unless you catch an Express – and you have no such luck today.

Your phone rings in your pocket as you sit, and you shift in your seat until you can slide it free. Your boss’s name floats across the top of the screen and you answer it quickly. 

“Are you on campus yet?” he asks in lieu of hello. Dr. Kim - the department head at the university where you teach - is nearing seventy, but he’s the leading curse-breaker on the eastern coast and you find it unlikely that he’ll slow down anytime soon. He was one of your first professors when you showed up here as a bright-eyed undergrad, years ago.

“Twenty minutes out,” you report. “I’m on the bus.”

“Come directly to my office,” he requests, but you can hear the urgency dancing in his tone. You know what this means: he’s been contacted about a curse. 

“I have a class at ten thirty,” you warn him. “I don’t have a lot of time.”

“It won’t take long,” he promises, and you agree to stop by before ending the call and turning your attention back to the bus window. 

It’s somehow chillier when the bus drops you on campus, cloud cover removing the warmth of the sun as you hustle down one of the paved walkways towards the academic buildings, dodging students standing in groups talking, others riding bicycles and the rare electric scooter. 

You hurry into the building that houses most of the staff offices, bypassing the corridors the students frequent and taking the narrow back staircase that leads to Dr. Kim’s office.

He’s waiting for you, door open, a spread of papers on his desk. 

You greet him with a smile, dropping your heavy bag by his door as you have hundreds of times in your professional history. Dr. Kim was one of your first undergrad professors, years ago, and you’ve worked closely with him in all the years since: first, as a TA for his tougher classes, then co-teaching when the university took you on, and finally joining his team of curse-breakers, rapidly bypassing several team members who had more seniority but less knack. 

“We got a call?” you guess, drawing closer to the papers and peering at them for clues. That’s when you notice the young man already seated in one of the two chairs across from Dr. Kim’s desk. Embarrassed, you hurry to nod hello to him, murmuring an apology. He has dark hair, sculpted cheekbones, razor-sharp eyes, and - you notice when he smiles in greeting - a deep dimple on each side.

The expression on Dr. Kim’s face is a little strange - almost like he’s nervous to give you the news. You can’t imagine what might be giving him pause, considering your last meeting like this had landed you both in a literal rainforest. Could he have gotten a request for the team to go somewhere even more remote than that?

“We did,” he allows with a tight little nod. “It’s… a bit unorthodox, though. I’d like you to consider the situation carefully.”

You feel yourself frown. “What is it?”

He sighs, then nods towards his door. “Will you close that, please?”

You reach behind you and gently press the wooden door shut, feeling flutters of uncertainty for the first time in your career. The stranger shifts in his chair uneasily.

“Perhaps you should sit,” Dr. Kim suggests, holding a hand towards the empty chair opposite his desk. 

This isn’t how these meetings go. You’ve done this a dozen times or more - usually as soon as Dr. Kim can see your face he starts chattering excitedly about the details: who’s been cursed, what the effects are, the specifics of the location, the bits of travel itinerary he’s already worked out. 

You sit hesitantly, hands gripping the arms of the chair nervously. You try hard not to glance sideways at the man you don’t know. 

“Well?” you prompt, when Dr. Kim still doesn’t speak.

“This is Namjoon,” Dr. Kim says, belatedly realizing he hasn’t introduced you. “His degrees all focus on curses. A comparable background to yours, academically.”

“That’s not true,” Namjoon says, holding up a hand. “I didn’t study Infracticus. My magical knowledge is focused solely on curses and curse-breaking.”

Dr. Kim makes a noise like he doesn’t quite agree with this. “Anyway,” he says to you, “I personally asked Namjoon to make the trip and hear the request. I think he’ll be invaluable in picking this one apart.”

“Okay,” you agree easily. You trust Dr. Kim with your life - literally - and if he thinks someone will be an asset to the team, you’d never argue with that. You turn sideways just a bit and murmur an it’s nice to meet you before turning your attention back to your (normally) fearless leader. “So what are we in for?”

He sighs and runs a hand down his face, almost as if he’s unsure if he should tell you or not. “You need to know right from the start how very dangerous this could be,” he says, looking back and forth between the two of you, his voice more grave than you’ve ever heard it. 

“Because of the magic involved?” you ask. Curse-breaking is always dangerous, that’s the very nature of it. You always run the risk of making a fatal mistake; you could turn the curse back on yourself, or strengthen it, or simply end up creating side-effects you hadn’t intended. He’s never given you this warning before.

He shakes his head. “Not necessarily. Not more so than any other. It’s… well, my dear, it will involve a stay in Infracticus.”

You’re shocked into silence. You can’t help but meet Namjoon’s eyes, sideways, and find him looking just as surprised as you. You utter, quietly, “What?” even though you heard and understood him perfectly well. It’s more than you need help processing, facing the reality of the words. “An Infracti has been cursed?”

He shakes his head, though the answer isn’t no. “Not just any Infracti,” he corrects. “The Prince of Ruin.”

Your jaw literally drops. “Someone cursed the crown prince?” you gasp in disbelief. “Who would dare?”

“The Scorns, I imagine,” Namjoon murmurs, almost to himself.

Dr. Kim gives you two a wan smile. “Luckily, we aren’t tasked with solving that. Just finding and casting the counter-curse.”

You sit back in your chair in a daze, blinking slowly, cogs in your mind whirring fast. “Okay,” you say finally. “We’d be protected, though, right? They’re inviting the team, so they’d make sure we were safe?”

Dr. Kim seems to look far-away for a moment, contemplating his answer. You shift nervously, glancing sideways at Namjoon. You would have been reassured by a quick answer - the fact that he needs to formulate a response does nothing to quell your unease. 

“I trust we are being invited there for the reasons they say,” he allows. “And so, I do believe the royal family will want us to be safe, yes. But the fact still remains that we will be humans walking around Infracticus. I’m sure we will be given guards - the question becomes, can we trust those guards completely? I fear I cannot say for sure.”

“It’s like walking into the lions’ den,” Namjoon murmurs beside you.

“Quite,” Dr. Kim agrees, nodding. 

“Except there’s an injured lion and only we can fix it,” you point out. 

“We can’t rely on that to ensure our safety,” Dr. Kim says, frowning more deeply. “It’s a delicate situation. The royal family cannot let it get out that the prince’s well-being has been… compromised.”

Namjoon frowns in confusion. “Why not?”

You think you understand. You venture, “To admit weakness, to admit to having been successfully attacked, to admit that the crown prince is cursed - it would be an open invitation for rebellion.”

“Yes,” Dr. Kim confirms, inclining his head, his white tufts of hair moving breezily. “The Infracti respect the laws that are currently in place, but the crown prince is the last member of the Ruin bloodline. If he were to die, or to be unfit to lead…”

“There’s nothing in the laws about who would rule next,” you finish for him, eyes wide. “It would be…”

“A war for the throne, I imagine.”

You sit in silence for a moment under the weight of this. Then, Namjoon says carefully, “I’m sorry, but can we circle back? The prince’s curse has to be secret, I got that - but how does that affect the safety of our team?”

“We’ll be hosted in the palace as honored guests,” Dr. Kim tells you both. “But no one beyond the royal family will know why. They don’t know that if they slipped up and harmed us, it would harm the prince, too. We can’t assume our purpose will serve as protection. Any Infracti beyond the royal family should be considered a threat.”

You let out a disbelieving laugh, turning to face Namjoon. He looks just as bamboozled as you feel, validating your reaction. 

“This is wild,” you utter, mostly to yourself. “This is absolutely bonkers.”

“This is why I said you need to consider carefully,” Dr. Kim insists. “There is much at stake. You’re in danger every moment you’re down there, even with the promised protection. The curse itself must be complicated, or they’d have solved it themselves. If your reason for being there is uncovered due to a fault of our own, we’ll be facing the wrath of the royal family. And I… I’m afraid I won't be able to join you.”

“What? No - you have to,” you blurt, panicked. “I can’t do it without you - you’ve decades of experience over me - I’ve never led a case before!”

“They don’t want me,” he tries to explain. “They don’t want any possibility that someone will figure out who I am and put the pieces together. A simple inquiry of my name blows the whole thing - the first thing they’d find is curse-breaker. As I said - the secrecy of the prince’s condition is vital.”

You scoff. “So they want me because I’m nobody.”

He looks at you kindly, used to your moods. “They want you because you have a high success rate. Your ability to stay… lowkey, as the kids say -”

Namjoon makes a choked sound like he’s fighting a laugh.

“- you should see it as an asset.”

“I don’t want to go without you,” you say, because it’s true. Because it feels safer to have someone older, wiser, with more experience. Because it feels like less responsibility to not be the person in charge. Because it’s what you’re used to, and you cling to the familiar. 

He shakes his head sadly. “The royal family will not allow it. I’m sorry.”

You lapse into silence again. 

Namjoon speaks slowly, as if a new thought is dawning on him, and he doesn’t like it. “If they suspect the Scorns…” 

Your stomach sinks. 

Dr. Kim nods. “I imagine you may see the beginnings of some political unrest if an accusation is made.”

“Forget the accusation,” Namjoon says hollowly. “If we uncover that it was a Scorn attack… we’ll be walking into Infracti civil war.”

“Will it be that bad?” you ask, frowning, pulse quickening. 

Namjoon shrugs. “The Ruins and the Scorns would each love a reason to point the finger at the other. If we do happen across the cause of the curse as we try to break it… it’s likely there will be political ramifications.”

“God,” you mutter. 

“As I said,” Dr. Kim repeats. “I won’t accept an answer today. I want you both to sleep on it. Discuss with your families.” (You snort at this. As if you ever would.) “Talk to me tomorrow about how you’re feeling.”

He dismisses you then, shepherding you both towards his door, leaving it open now that you’re done discussing the equivalent of vampire state secrets. 

Halfway down the stairs, Namjoon calls your name. Ahead of him, you pause, turn, and let him catch up to you. 

“Can we exchange information?” he asks, digging in his wallet. He finally hands you a business card, and you do the same, hoping you have one tucked behind a credit card or something. 

“I’d like to talk to you about this, later, if you have time,” he says, a bit sheepishly. “I’m… not feeling very sure about it.”

“Okay,” you say easily, glancing at the time - you’ve got seven minutes to get across campus to teach your first class. “Do you want to grab a bite later? Your number’s on here?” You wiggle the business card, and he nods. “I’ll text you,” you promise, and start down the steps again, mind racing.

Next ->

thank you for reading! i hope you liked this first installment! chapter 2 will go up next friday!!! <3

[harrowreads]

❥ LIST OF AUTHORS ❣

Below is a list of each author I have reviewed, linking to the reviews that I have tagged with their username. This list is extensive and covers literally everything that has been shared to this blog.

#

7deadlysinsfics

A

anotherbtswriter apotatomashedbybts

B

beahae bangtanintotheroom bluewhale52 blog-name-idk borahae-k btsrunmylife

C

colormepurplex2

D

daechwitatamic

E

echotoyou eoieopda

F

fallingwater703* ffion451

G

gimmethatagustd

H

here2bbtstrash here4kpopfics hobidreams

J

jjkeverlast jminssiii

K

kithtaehyung

L

luaspersona

M

madbutgloriouspond matchy9393 miscelunaaa minisugakoobies moccahobi moonleeai

O

orphaned* (no known author)

P

park-jimin-isnt-real

S

sailoryooons sweetestofchaos

* authors whose work is on ao3

Do you see yourself on this list but your name has changed? Please let me know! There is a chance that older fics may appear on this blog even after a blog has been deactivated or a post has been deleted. if you would like for a blog/fic of your own to be excluded, shoot me a dm and I will take it down.

[harrowreads]

i love this little fic 🥰 it’s so soft and comforting, and it makes me both nostalgic and homesick for snow. 💜

thank you for sharing this with us!!! (and for letting me beta!!!)

Merry Mememas; First Snow -> PJM

You've just moved to a city where it snows for the first time and your once long distance boyfriend is helplessly endeared by your excitement at the first snowfall

Park Jimin x Reader word count: 884 genre: fluff, established relationship warnings: none! prompt: the first snow of the season and the joy that comes with it a/n: in celebration of my birthday week and the upcoming holiday i've written a few drabbles <3 beta'ed by the wonderful @theharrowing and written with @here2bbtstrash in mind

You had never lived in a place where it snowed. 

You’d been teased by the promise of it once, when there was a soft layer of frost that covered the grass outside your old house, but it hadn’t amounted to anything more than that. You could still remember how it felt to be elated and then quickly disappointed as the sun rose and stole away the tiny bits of winter. Your smile faded as quickly as the warmth returned to the tip of your nose and cheeks. 

This year was going to be different. 

You had packed up your whole life and made a cross-country move in a daring moment to follow the tug in your chest that told you it was time to take life in your hands and go after everything you thought you wanted. Fortunately, the place you had chosen had more than a vibe you enjoyed. 

It had friends that filled the longing in your heart and your long-distance partner. 

You still had to get used to the fact that you were now short-distance and that neither of you had to go out of your way to be able to spend the night together. 

No longer were the days filled with I wish you were closer texts or trying to arrange your schedules so that you could work in a call for sexy times. Nor did you have to deal with the minor inconvenience of different time zones. You didn’t have to schedule a block of time to visit each other and hope that it would soothe the ache in your heart long enough to keep you sated until next time. 

Now you had the privilege of taking a short walk to your boyfriend’s place or vice versa. 

If you wanted to see him, you could ask him to come over and if he wasn’t actively in the middle of something, he would be there in a few minutes' time. If you wished to fall asleep wrapped up in each other all you had to do was stay the night knowing you could head home easily and do it all over again the next day. 

Change was scary, but you were so fulfilled in the aftermath. 

Waking up beside Jimin was a privilege you thought you might never get used to even as you stared at his sleeping face when you woke before him. The chill of the morning made you want to linger in bed, snuggle up, and doze off again. Your bladder, however, had different plans. 

Returning to bed after finishing your business sounded like a bad idea, as tempting as it was. Instead, you made your way into the kitchen to start a pot of coffee, hoping the warmth of the liquid would shake the rest of the lingering cold from you. Puttering around the kitchen, at least, was helping you warm up and resist the siren’s call of your mattress. 

You had just begun pouring coffee into a mug when you saw it. 

A squeal escaped and both the pot and cup were slammed down on the island counter before you were skittering across your apartment until you reached your balcony doors. They were thrown open, you stepping across the threshold and stuffing your feet into your lined outdoor slippers hurriedly. 

You let out a happy giggle when you tipped your head back and reached a hand out, palm up, to watch as snowflakes fluttered down from the sky and stuck to your skin. Behind you, your boyfriend had surfaced from his slumber and was meandering over. His hair was mussed, sticking up this way and that, and he was yawning while he slipped on a t-shirt.

“Babe?” 

Enraptured with the snow, you ignored him. 

Jimin took a moment to be amused before shuffling his way into the kitchen to finish the task you had started. You were still outside, giggling as snowflakes melted on your cheeks, when he joined you. 

Loosely draped across his shoulders was the blanket you kept on the couch and in his hands was your warm cup of coffee, a light brown color because he’d finished fixing it the way you liked. His elbow nudged yours, finally garnering your attention and your already broad smile widened at the sight of him. 

“Hey,” he cooed, voice low and thick with adoration. His lips were warm against your cheek when he kissed it, offering you the mug that you accepted graciously. You drew it close to your chest, grateful for the heat that spread through your fingers, then took a sip. 

“It’s too cold,” he tried to chide but you shook your head. 

“It’s snowing, Jimin,” you protested. 

He laughed, shifting the blanket on his shoulders until he had the corners curled into his palms and the length of it stretched securely across his shoulders. Stepping up behind you, he draped himself across your back, nose nuzzling against the sensitive skin of your throat. 

“I forget that you’re not used to snow,” Jimin mused as he placed a kiss on your neck before settling his chin on your shoulder. “Okay…five minutes, then back inside.” 

Leaning back into your boyfriend you nodded, humming before taking another drink. “Deal.” 

This was your first snow of the next chapter of your life and it was perfect.

[harrowreads]

OH MY GOD IT JUST OCCURRED TO ME THAT I HAVE NOT BEEN READING THIS FIC!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!! AHHHHHHHHHHHHHHH!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!

i am not even joking, i spent howeverlongithasbeensincechapter3 checking your profile from time to time to see if it was ready bc i was so eager but also didn't want to bother you because i know you're a busy bee with a life and a family and a career. so to think that it has taken me almost a fucking MONTH!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!! i blame it on my school semester. it has been hell on my mind body and soul.

BUT NOW MY MIND BODY AND SOUL IS HERE!!!! AHHHHH!!! 

spoilers and way too many gifs under the cut!

“I was so scared,” you say. “I knew you would come for me, but I was so scared.”

"I want you."

💀💀💀 bye lmaoooo. I AM DEAD!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!! AHHHHH IS IT HAPPENING OH MY GODDDDDDDDDDDDD!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!

i have fucking goosebumps. i want you to know that. YOONGI GOES FROM ZERO TO 100 VERY FAST AND WE LOVE THAT FOR HIM.

LIKE. why is it that in fic a man being possessive is just 😙✨ fucking chef's kiss AHHHHHHHHHHHH.

“Never cover yourself from me. You’re beautiful, and you’re mine.”

i'm not joking like i will blackout lmao.

G--!!!!! GOOD GIRL!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!

the last of my sanity:

He laughs, and you will never get over that sound of his happiness.

i love them.

OMGGGGGGGGGGGGGGGGGGGGGGGGGGGGGGGGGGGGGGGGGGGGGGGGGGGGGGGGGGGGGGGGGGG!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!

ughhhhh i love this. i love how this ends for both of them. excellent, excellent job. the way you write Yoongi feels so believable and i am obsessed with their bond and chemistry.

(and your authors note at the end is so sweet and so truuueeee!!!)

i'm so happy to have finally read this!!! 😍😍😍 thank you for this gift!!!!!!

Best Served Cold | MYG | 4

pairing: Yoongi x afab!reader

au: mafia!au, arranged marriage!au, Yoongi is at the bottom of the organization just trying to stay alive when the story starts.

tags: SLOW BURN, eventual violence, eventual hurt/comfort, eventual smut, reformed bad boy Yoongi, he is lethal in this fic - literally, and he has neck tattoos. Reader is self conscious about her looks, so that gets mentioned occasionally, but is not a focus of the fic. (She works through it by the end.) (Part IV tags: light dom/sub, penetrative m/f sex, oral sex (m receiving and f receiving) mc gets off on yoongi being violent to someone who threatens her)

Words: 7k

a/n: @vyduan you are the best for betareading this! Thank you! @caelesjjk the banner is amazing, and it looks like I didn't credit you when I made the other posts. I'm sorry! This was stupid dumb of me. I will go back and edit them.

I hope you all like the final chapter! Thanks for all your patience this year with this story.

Part I, Part II, Part III, Part IV

___

Yoongi’s hands shake, and he can’t quiet them. You’re safe at home, but he’s still fearful, still wants to look over his shoulder. He lifts his hand to your face and gently wipes the blood from your split lip. In the harsh overhead light of the kitchen, the dark circles under your eyes look demonic. Your eyes are open, but unseeing. Even at your worst, even in the face of your asshole father, he’s never seen you this blank, this disassociated from the present. Your injuries exist where he can’t reach them. If your arm was broken, he could call a doctor. If someone needed killing, he could take them out as easy as breathing. This, though, is worse. He isn’t sure he can care for you. What does he know of care?

x

x

x

“Is it over?” you ask in a voice so frightened Yoongi’s throat closes before he can answer.

“It’s over.”

You grip his wrist, fingers digging into his skin. “Jungkook? Hoseok?”

“Everyone’s safe.” Jimin had taken a bullet to the shoulder, but he doesn’t need to go into that now. He can’t give you any reason not to believe in him.

Without warning, your shoulders shake. He thinks you’re crying again until he realizes you’re laughing.

“I spit on one of them.”

“Of course, you did.”

“Of course, I did?” Finally, you meet his eyes.

“I would never underestimate you.” He did at the beginning, but he won’t again.

There would never be anyone else for him, even if you decide to leave like he knows you should. But he’s selfish. He wants you to stay.

Your heaving shoulders turn from laughter to sobs. You bring your hands to cover your face. Scars on wrist confront Yoongi with his failure.

“I was so scared,” you say. “I knew you would come for me, but I was so scared.”

You repeat the words over and over again. There is nothing he could do to stop them, and he doesn’t try. Amid your pain, the words ‘I knew you would come for me’ are the only thing that keep him from falling apart. He wants to beg your forgiveness, but it's selfish to want absolution when he doesn’t deserve it. You sway on your feet, eyes shutting.

What the fuck is he doing? He helps you to his bedroom. He doesn’t think you’ve been in here during the duration of your marriage, but he’s not letting you alone tonight.

You sink to the bed, your eyes closing before he can think of what to say, what to do. He covers you with the blanket at the foot of the bed. You frantically reach for his hand.

“Don’t leave.”

“I’m not,” he stammers. “I won’t.”

He goes to the other side of the bed and lays down. He moves as close to you as he dares. Part of him wants to hold you in his arms. The other part of him isn’t sure you would want that from him, especially after everything you’ve been through. He stays awake long after you fall asleep. The nightmares will come eventually.

&&&

When you wake, even though Yoongi is gone from the bed, his warmth lingers. He hasn’t been gone long. You don’t know how you could know such a thing, but you know him as well as breathing.

The door opens slowly. Yoongi enters carrying a tray. He’s still wearing his blood-stained suit, and you wonder if he slept. He places a steaming bowl of soup on the table next to you. You can’t help the small smile on your face. The most feared man in the city is carrying trays and making you soup.

“Do you…?” He runs a hand through his hair. “Uh, do you want to change? I’ve set out some clothes.”

Your most comfortable lounge pants and top are tossed on a chair nearby.

You nod.

“Eat.” He pauses, as if he wants to say something more. “Get some more rest.”

Before you can tell him the same, he leaves you alone.

Gingerly, you remove your dress. You want to burn it. Taking everything off, you take a hot shower and slip on the clothes he brought you. You aren’t injured, but your body is sore from the night spent shivering in the shipping container. Shuddering, you force the memories from your mind and focus on the present. You eat, and sleep overtakes you, even as you want to see him, hear him, before you close your eyes.

This time, when you wake, you feel better. The covers are warm. The food he brought was comforting. He must’ve taken care of you while you slept, because your wrists are bandages. You open your eyes, realizing you aren’t alone.

Yoongi sits in the chair across from you. He’s wearing a thin, white t-shirt and faded jeans, bare feet. His head rests in his hands, and it almost sounds like he’s crying.

“What happened?”

“Huh?” He looks up at you.

“Why do you look like that?”

His eyes are red, and it’s heartbreaking to see him so distraught.

“They took you.”

You’re relieved to know that nothing worse has happened.

“I knew you would come for me. I never doubted you.” You get up from the bed, wrapping the blanket around yourself. You settle on your knees in front of him. “I’m fine.”

He huffs a breath. “I bandaged your wounds. You aren’t fine.”

“I will be. Everything’s going to be okay.”

He shakes his head as if words are too much.

You scoot closer, willing him to understand. “In a few years, we'll be so powerful, Namjoon and Seokjin will beg you to stay in their organization. You’re so loyal, I know you will. I'll make sure we have enough money that no one can touch us.”

“You will?” he asks, looking at you in a daze. “But you want out?”

“I want you.”

It’s very simple, really. His eyes search your face, and he reaches down, pushing your hair back. Before you lose your courage, you let the blankets fall and stand in front of him. He rises from the chair.

His hand cups your cheek. “Are you sure you want this? Want me?”

He asks, as if you don’t know your own mind. There’s only one thing to do.

The kiss catches him off-guard, but not for long. He responds by wrapping his arms around your shoulders. He pulls you toward him until you’re pressed up against his broad chest, kissing you back like he needs you to breathe. You feel the way he seems to want to possess you with his touch. It’s all you want, too. There’s nothing between you, and you feel more than hear the moan he doesn’t hold back. The sensations of lips on yours, his tongue teasing and tasting are enough to make your legs weak.

When he pulls back, before you can think or speak or do anything, he kisses your neck and mumbles the most delicious words you’ve ever heard. You drink them in like wine, and soon you're drunk on his voice.

“You’re mine, yeah?” His hands tangle through your hair, pulling just a little too hard, just to make you understand. “Gonna make you feel so fucking good you never leave.”

He’s an idiot if he thinks you’re ever leaving now, but that can wait. He just keeps going, humming against your skin. You’re dizzy from his mouth on your neck, his hands on your body.

“All this belongs to me,” he says, as he moves his hand from your waist to squeeze your ass. You moan at the sensation.

You aren’t sure how long he kisses you, your lips are swollen and you’re panting for breath when he pauses. He pushes up your top, lifting it over your head to lean down and take a sensitive nipple between his lips, playing with you and enjoying the sounds you make.

On and on, he takes his time creating a reaction in you that you didn’t think possible. He is drawing out your desire, and it’s his patience, his dedication to making you feel good that steals your breath from you. Your prior experience was limited and disappointing. Partners took as much interest in your pleasure as they would a blow-up doll. You’re going to come from just the thought of him going on like this, like you matter, like what you feel is more important than anything.

Yoongi pushes down your lounge pants, and he hums when he sees you have nothing on underneath. Soon you’re standing in front of him, exposed. You stare at the floor and make a move to cross your arms in front of your chest, but he won’t let you.

“Never cover yourself from me. You’re beautiful, and you’re mine.”

Slowly, your raise your eyes to his. It takes courage for you to be this vulnerable. One thing about your husband, though, he doesn’t lie. You whisper his name, and he smiles. It’s full of promise, and you wonder if you’re going to survive. But, really, if you don’t, it’s worth it.

His hand trails down, caressing your skin of your stomach and you try not the laugh–it tickles. He reaches the apex of your thighs, fingers gently stroking your mound. He still won’t let you look away, and you hold his gaze, even as he pushes a finger inside your slick cunt.

“Oh, fuck, this for me?”

The question doesn’t really need an answer. You resist rolling your eyes even in your delirium of lust, but your thoughts must register on your face, because he chuckles. “Don’t worry, baby. I’ll make you feel good.”

He kisses you again, not hesitating in his need to make sure you understand how he feels.

Slowly, he pushes you backwards to the bed. You lift his shirt, but he makes it easy by fisting it in one hand and pulling it over his head. He pushes down his jeans. You fall back to the bed, and Yoongi is naked in front of you. It’s glorious, really.

“Come here,” he says, pulling your legs down the bed so he has better access to what he needs. He kneels in front of you, starting with small kisses on the skin of your legs, your thighs. His shoulders nudge your legs apart, and before you can even be worried about being exposed in front of him, you can feel his hot breath against you. He’s greedy for you, and you’re about to beg when Yoongi licks a long stripe over your spread sex, and you buck on the bed. You grab the sheets in your hands. He chuckles as his hands press your thighs to the bed and the feeling of being under his control makes it that much better. You don’t think there is anything better than the thought of the bruises on your body marking you as his.

Yoongi’s tongue curls around your clit, slow and deliberate. You cry out at the sensation, unable to hold anything back. This spurs him on. Not to get you off, of course, but to continue his delicious torture as you hang there on the edge of coming, stars exploding behind your eyes. He’s so restrained, like he could do this all fucking day. He continues his exploration of the swollen bud. You want to grip his hair, push your pussy in his face and grind against him, but you grip the sheets tighter instead.

“So impatient,” he murmurs against your skin, stroking two fingers over and around your swollen sex.

You want to scream that you’ve waiting more than long enough, but before you can think he’s pushing a finger inside of you doing absolutely nothing to cure the problem he’s created, only making it worse by make you more turned on than you’ve been in your life. He places his tongue on the firm underside of your clit, and he curls his figures just enough to get right up against that bundle of nerves inside you, and the two things combined are fucking insane. You’re reaching heights you didn’t know existed.

“Yoongi,” you say, barely able to form the word.

“Who does this sweet cunt belong to, baby?”

“You,” you breathe.

“Good girl.”

Only then does his incessant teasing turn to focused attention on your clit.

You hear your mumbling gasps. I’m coming, you’re saying over and over, trying to gain some kind of purchase on reality, but you’re lost. You come to the sounds of Yoongi’s humming satisfaction. It’s a fizzing, bright and surging pleasure. It just won’t stop, and the pleasure is strung out like the last note of a song you don’t want to end. You realize it doesn’t have to, not really. He’s yours now.

Yoongi stands, running his thumb over his lip, not like he needs to get rid of the taste of you, but that he’s satisfied with a job well done. Eleven out of ten, you think.

He’s stroking himself, and you take in the sight of him. His hard cock in his hand, standing above you, possessive and demanding. He pauses, and he looks like he’s going to start some conversation. But you don’t need a gentleman right now.

“What do you want, Yoongi?”

“That should be pretty fucking obvious.”

“Then why are you standing there?”

“Oh, that’s how it is?” he says, as the bed dips under his weight and you scoot back up, giving him room.

You shrug, trying to look innocent, but it’s hard with your legs spread, pussy slick and body flushed from the best orgasm you’ve had in your life. He laughs, and you will never get over that sound of his happiness.

It arouses you to get lost in something like this, in someone. There’s no worrying or thinking.

“You sure you can handle this?” He asks, as he lowers to kiss your lips, covering your body with his, finally the full weight of him rests on you.

“If you’ll promise to teach me if I can’t.”

“Jesus, fucking, Christ—”

But you arch up to kiss him before he can be exasperated with you. His hard cock presses against your lower belly and Jesus fucking Christ is right. You need him to fuck you.

Before you can beg, he finally lifts up to hold his dick, rubbing against your wet sex.

“Gonna make sure you feel every inch.”

Before you can complain to get the fuck on with it, he pushes into you, stretching your sex. You gasp at the pleasure mixed with the subtle pain of his thick cock.

“You okay, baby?” He’s straining under the control of holding himself back.

There’s nothing more beautiful than this man making sure you’re okay before he rearranges your guts.

You nod.

“That’s right. You’re my good girl, aren’t you?” He leans down to kiss you. You’re completely lost in the sensation, and he whispers in your ear. “Take my cock so well. Made for me.”

Soon, you’re lost in the rhythm of him fucking you, working up to deep and hard strokes. Sweat drips from his body, and you want to lick it from his skin. As your pussy clenches around him, and you’re about to come, he pulls out and chuckles when you whine.

He flips your body over, pulling at your waist until your ass is in the air and your face is pushed down to the bed.

There’s a litany of filth coming out of his mouth, and it’s unclear what’s going to make you come first, his dick or his words. “This is my cunt, yeah? Who do you belong to?” All that he says is leaving you delirious. His hands grip your waist. Again, you think of the marks on your skin. The way this first time is just the beginning.

He’s pounding into you, and your head lazily bumps against the pillow at the head of the bed, and you love just being his plaything, being whatever he needs in that moment. You give yourself over to sensation and the feeling of the way he is fucking you, like he might not get another chance. He pulls out again, and this time when he flips you back on your back, he raises your leg, pushing back against your body. Oh fuck, this is something. He’s even deeper, hitting that spot that you thought was unreachable.

Your breath hitches, and the pleasure that was previously unobtainable is yours now.

You’re panting his name now, and you can’t stop yourself. He’s so close now.

“Come inside me,” you say. “Let me feel you.”

He exhales, and this time when he pounds into you, he comes painting your walls white with his cum. Your orgasm doesn’t slow, you just keep coming as he fills you up.

When he stills, he drops your leg, and you let it fall to the bed as he crawls above you, kissing any skin he can reach. Until he’s kissing your mouth, his body covering yours, and the only thing in the world is the feeling of the weight of him.

Gradually, his breath slows, and he rolls to his side, but not without pulling you so you’re laying on the bed, side by side, facing each other. For a few minutes, there is no sound but your panting breaths as he pushes your hair out of your face.

“What are you thinking about?” he asks softly, like he knows it’s hard for you to talk about.

Self-doubt isn’t sexy, but it’s coming in waves as your breathing slows, as you take in what just happened. “I just… I wanna be what you want.”

“The fuck you talking about? You are what I want.”

“I’m not…” Not sure how to explain, I’m not experienced, you think. I’m plain.

“Baby, going to prove it to you every day of our lives, if you’ll have me.” He puts his hands to your face. “You might belong to me, but I’m your servant, understand?”

You nod, afraid that if you try to speak, you might cry. He pulls you to him like he understands, like words aren’t necessary. You stay there, clinging to him until your tears stop falling.

&&&

Yoongi glances at the man guarding Kim Namjoon’s private suite. The guy is a huge, muscle toned bruiser. As the two of you approach the door, he makes a move to pat you down.

“No one touches her.”

You glance back, and he recognizes the look on your face–a mix of pride with blush rising to your cheeks, as if you still can’t believe that he would care for you in such a way.

Yoongi decides to make is feelings clear. “You should know that I’m carrying, and this meeting is off if you ask me to leave the weapon out here.”

The guard doesn’t respond. He’s probably heard worse in his line of work.

“It’s alright,” someone says. “This meeting is important enough.”

Kim Seokjin opens the door and ushers you both inside. He’s got a sardonic smile on his face, but Yoongi doesn’t mind. Seokjin and Namjoon need you more than you need them at this point.

The bruiser makes a move to follow. “That’s alright,” Seokjin insists. “I’m sure we can handle Min Yoongi and an accountant.”

He doesn’t like the way he says accountant as if it isn’t your skills that are keeping the operation running smoothly, but he could give a fuck. He’s going to be in that meeting, regardless.

Seokjin gestures to a chair and you sit, crossing your legs, folding your hands like this is any other business meeting. Yoongi enjoys seeing the ring he bought you on your finger. His grandmother’s ring is worn on a gold chain around your neck. Nothing would convince you to give it up. The ring he bought you makes a statement, though, and he wants it made. The dress he bought you looks good, too. He’s looking forward to stripping it off you later. Yoongi stands behind your chair, waving off Namjoon when he offers him a drink. You refuse as well. This is not a social call.

“Well, let’s get down to business.” Namjoon says, sitting on the couch opposite.

An hour later and you’re shaking hands with Namjoon, asking Seokjin about his bride, as if you didn’t just drive a bargain to launder their proceeds for them and your take is better than you dreamed. You’re eternally underestimated. He did at one time, but he’ll never make that mistake again.

Your natural kindness can’t help but come out, and he realizes the two of you will be invited to dinner soon. You’re important enough to the organization to keep close, to make sure you and Yoongi are happy.

He appraises the two men in front of him. They aren’t a bad sort. Kim Seokjin is as smart as he is handsome, but Kim Namjoon needs to learn how to take a day off now and again. He’s so eager for recognition he’s going to burn out. The four of you exchange pleasantries, saying goodbye and leaving without a word from the bruiser.

Yoongi’s so fucking proud of you. It isn’t until you’re in the car, doors locked, that you allow yourself to lean your head back.

“Fuck,” you exhale.

“I told you. Did I not fucking tell you?”

“You fucking told me.”

“I told you to ask for double what you expected.”

“It’s so much money.”

“It’s yours, now.”

“It’s ours.”

You smile at him, the smile he loves.

“But let’s get back to the important thing,” he says. “I was right.”

“You were right.”

He starts the engine and puts a hand on your neck, pulling you in for a kiss. After he’s ruthlessly uses your mouth, he slides a hand down to your thigh, pushing up your skirt as he pulls out of the private drive.

“Here? Now?” You ask, but he can tell you’re excited from the breathy note in your voice. Your legs slide open just a little more.

“I always collect on a bet, sweetheart.”

&&&

You shut the car door behind you, looking up at the apartment cut into the side of the mountain. The complex was far from the district where you and Yoongi had just bought a new penthouse. It was far from the three clubs he now owns. Hoseok and Jungkook now each managed one, with Yoongi taking the newest. They kept their operation small for now. Yoongi didn’t trust anyone else yet, and you trust Yoongi. You had the simple part as far as you could tell. It was just spreadsheets and numbers. Yoongi, though, remained fascinated.

“How do you do it?” he had said earlier that week. He kissed you senseless in his office, bending you over the desk. The door was locked. He might fuck you in his office, but he was going to make sure you weren’t interrupted.

“Yoongi, no one gets excited about this stuff,” you said, but then you said nothing else for a while because words escaped you.

Now, standing outside your car, you look up at the small apartment, forlorn and grey from the windy weather where it sits on the exposed cliff. You straighten your skirt, clutch your purse, and cross the street. Best to get this over with.

There is a long pause after your knock, and you hear the chain unlatch. Your sister stares at you.

“What do you want?”

“I just want to have a conversation.”

She turns around and you follow. Your stiletto heels dig into the cheap carpet.

“You’re up early. I’m surprised Yoongi let you out of the house.”

Yoongi’s possessiveness since you were taken was not what you expected, but you couldn’t say that it bothered you. You don’t respond to your sister, though. It’s none of her fucking business. In fact, you had left Yoongi asleep in bed this morning, and you need to get back there before you’re gone too long.

“I’m not going to stay long.”

“I’m sure you’ve got too much money to spend. What did he buy you this week?”

“A gown for Kim Seokjin’s wedding.”

Your sister scoffs. “Must be nice.”

Your father’s resources have dwindled recently. He had already betrayed anyone who might help him, so he was left with nothing. Your sister had less. You and Yoongi had turned down your family’s requests for money. She had this lonely apartment and a dwindling stash of designer handbags. She’s about to have less.

You pull a wad of cash from your purse. Funnily enough, you pulled it from the vents this morning. You really needed to find a new hiding place.

Your sister stares at the money. She tries to feign disinterest, but you know her too well.

She looks up at you. “What do you want? I’m not going to work for you.”

“I wouldn’t hire you.”

“Then what do you want?”

“I want you to leave this city and never come back.”

“Not a fucking chance.” She laughs. “You need to pay me a lot more than that–everyone says you and Yoongi are rolling in it.”

You were, but again, none of her fucking business.

“I know you tipped off Lee to my location.”

She pushes her hair back from her face. “I don’t know what you’re talking about.”

“It took me some time to figure it out. I was talking to you when I was taken. Yoongi and I used burners. No one knew where I was.” Your voice almost breaks, but you keep it together. “I know it was you.”

“I don’t know what the fuck you’re talking about.”

“How much did they pay you?”

She stares at you. The shock and hurt on her face quickly transform to annoyance.

“It wasn’t enough.”

“I knew it was you.”

“All I did was give them your location. They said they were just going to talk to you.”

“You believed them.”

“It wasn’t my fucking fault his men got out of hand.”

“They were going to leave me there to die.”

“Stop being so dramatic. I knew Yoongi would find you.”

You think of the number of nights he’s woken in a cold sweat, the number of times he checks on you, even in the office at the club. He will never be the same, and it’s your sister’s fault.

“He blames himself.”

“It isn’t my fucking fault you married some low—"

Your sister doesn’t expect the slap. “Speak about him like that again, and I will end you.”

“I’m not leaving unless you pay me a hell of a lot more money.”

“You will take the money and you will leave.”

“Not a chance in hell. I want a lot more, and I know you’ve got it.”

“That’s none of your fucking business.” You stand. There is no reason to continue this. “Yoongi will kill you when he figures it out. Take my offer. He won’t give you one.”

“I can convince your husband of anything.”

You laugh in her face. “I didn’t believe that lie when you first tried to tell me, and there is no way in hell I would believe it now.”

Your sister trembles now. She attempts to regain her composure. “Lee’s family will protect me.”

“Anyone left in that family doesn’t give a shit about you. I don’t give a shit about you. Take the money and leave, or stay until Yoongi figures out what you did. He’ll make it quick out of respect for me.”

“Who the fuck do you think you are to talk to me this way?”

You turn and walk down the hallway. “Like I said. Make your choice.”

“I was supposed to get married first.” She calls out. “I was the one who was supposed to get the money and the cars and the designer clothes. Me,” she shouts.

You shut the door behind you, get in the [car] and drive away.

Yoongi is finishing a phone call when you arrive. He’s in bed, and you join him.

“Where you’ve been?” he asks, throwing down the phone.

“Just running errands,” you answer, kicking off your shoes.

“Leave those on,” he says, but he says nothing else. He’s too busy kissing you.

&&&

You enter the club, nodding to Jungkook behind the bar. It’s still early, so the place isn’t crowded. The tables are mostly empty. You look up to see Yoongi gesture for you to join him. He’s got someone, clearly an idiot, in a vice grip. Yoongi’s hand clenches the man’s shoulder. The weaker man winces from the pain. You raise an eyebrow at Yoongi, but he doesn’t give you any clue what’s going on.

“Hi, baby,” he says, kissing your cheek and not letting up his grip.

“This gentleman had a few things to say about you.”

“So, not very smart, then.”

Yoongi shook his head in mock sadness. “Not at all. I’m sorry to say he called you a bitch.”

You laugh. This is something you’ve heard before and you will again. But Yoongi takes defending you seriously, and you let him.

“What are you going to do with him?”

“Well, the problem is, baby, then he called you my secretary.”

“The hell?” You cross your arms across your chest and stare the man down. You felt sorry for him for a moment ago, but not anymore.

Yoongi laughs. “What do you want me to do with him?”

Yoongi rarely lets you decide. It’s heady, and it feels sort of wonderful to know that Yoongi will take whatever action you want to make sure this guy understands insults aren’t taken lightly.

You smile and the guy relaxes, thinking this means he’s safe.

He’s apologizing when you interrupt, turning to Yoongi.

“Give me your jacket first. I like that suit, and I don’t want you to get blood on it.”

Yoongi smiles, and he removes his jacket. Then he rolls up his sleeves. He won’t do anything too terrible. Just enough to teach this man a lesson.

“Don’t take long,” you say. “We have business to discuss.”

You weave through the room to your office.

A short time later, you look up from the laptop you are barely focusing on to see Yoongi enter the room. His shirt has blood on it, and his knuckles look injured.

“He hurt you?” you ask, rising from the chair and rushing to meet him.

Yoongi shakes his head. “It wasn’t much. Just made sure he won’t talk about you again.”

You stare down at the blood on his shirt, the way sweat clings to his neck from the beating he gave the other man, and the way his knuckles are red and raw. There is something seriously wrong with you because it only makes you want him more.

You put a hand to his cheek. “Yoongi?”

“Yeah,” he says absently, trying to pour a drink.

“What would you have done if I said something else?”

“Look, I would’ve let him go as much as I don’t like showing leniency in these situations—”

“No, what would you have done if I wanted something more?”

He takes a moment to figure out what you’re asking, and when he does, he doesn’t hesitate.

“I’ll do anything you ask, baby. You know that.” He shrugs.

But you can’t believe it, you can’t believe this man who has the city shaking with fear will put himself in your hands.

You kiss him, and you pour everything into the kiss that you can’t quite say yet, can’t admit to yourself.

“You like that?” he teases. He kisses you, nipping at your lips. Your husband even has the gall to pull back, take a sip of whiskey like he has all the time in the fucking world for this conversation. When he kisses you again, the alcohol on his tongue makes you feel drunk. One hand comes up to hold your neck. He knows what he’s doing when he sips again, rubbing his thumb over your cheek. “Oh, you really like that.”

You moan and pull him back to his chair where you push him into it.

“All you have to do is ask,” he says.

He’s a fucking menace.

The sight of someone else’s blood on his shirt is doing things go you. All he had to do to see how wet you’d gotten was lift your skirt. You could feel it soaking through your pantie.

He settles himself into the chair, holding his glass and taking a drink, watching you while you kneel before him.

You reach up to unbuckle his belt and he sets his glass on the desk. Yoongi doesn’t exactly, uh, he’s not exactly a passive participant. It’s taken you a while, but he’s taught you well what he likes. He’s hard from the kissing, seeing you in this position, and probably from you admitting how much you like it when he takes matters into his own hands.

His grip from his cock slips as you take over, replacing his hand with yours, wrapping your hand around his thick girth. You are so greedy for a taste of him. You wonder if he’ll deny you the opportunity. He has in the past, just to prove a point, just to make sure by the time you get your mouth on him you’re desperate and sloppy for him. You ghost your lips over the slick head of his cock. When you lick long and wet over the slit at the top, he doesn’t hide his moan. It spurs you on to hear him, to know he wants you and no one else. You lap all around the swollen head until he bucks into your mouth. This isn’t a time for teasing. You suck as much as you can into your mouth, so greedy and frantic that you barely feel the strain on your jaw. You push yourself to take more, and you choke a little. He groans, putting a hand on your hair. He definitely likes it when you push yourself. You’ve always been a dedicated student. With his hand in your hair, he regulates the speed of your mouth on him. Slow on the downslide, quick on the up, getting steadily faster. He gives you a reprieve, letting you breathe, before pushing in again. He holds you there, and you can feel the tears welling in your eyes. You think about the way your throat will be sore, the way your knees will look red and bruised when this is over. The thought makes you moan. You look up at Yoongi as he watches you on his dick, a dark look in his eye.

Your pussy is wet and it’s slick between your thighs. You feel so filthy on this floor, his cock in your mouth, willing to do whatever he asks. A tear slides down your cheek, and he groans, “Fuck, what you do to me.”

You continue to work yourself over his cock, sloppy and greedy, spit running down your chin, the salty taste of him spurring you on. “I’m close,” he says. His words make you want to give in immediately. Give him exactly what he wants, but a new wicked part of you wants to tease, wants to hear him beg in the lust choked voice. His grip on your hair tightens. So that’s not happening tonight. The hand you have on the thick base of him tightens and tugs, rather than a stroke. He lifts his hips, forcing you to take him deeper, and he floods your mouth with spurt after spurt of cum, hot and thick. He whispers your name as he comes down from his high until he looks as flushed and fucked out as you feel.

His breath comes in short pants and licks his lips, just looking at the state you’re in. You rub your legs together, wishing that you could give yourself some kind of release. It would take so little for you to come. He can’t leave you like this, can he?

“Come here,” he says.

You rise, trying to gather yourself, unable to think about anything other than getting off.

“You’re so sweet, you know that?” He stands from the chair, and you lean against the desk for support. One hand grips your throat, so perfectly your breath hitches.

He smiles. “I know what you like. No one else.”

“No one else.”

“I’m the only one who gets to see you like this.”

“Yoongi, please I wanna, I need …”

He rudely pushes a hand up your thigh and reaches for your panties. He just rubs the slick material, feeling your stiff clit, just aching for his touch or for his mouth.

But he’s as slow as he was fast forcing you down his cock, and it’s a pleasant torture to be strung out like this. Existing only to be played by him.

Finally, when you think you might scream in frustration. He gives you the attention you need.

“That’s it, baby, come for me.”

When you do your pleasure bursts so bright it almost hurts. The release is intense. You slump over and he catches you, pulling you into the chair with him.

You curl around him, catching your breath as he puts his arms around you.

Biting your lip, you look up at him. “You think... maybe, there’s something wrong with me that I’m so…”

“Ready to suck my dick because I just made sure a man who insulted you is on the ground in a bloody heap,” he finishes.

“Well, yeah.”

“Nah, you were made for me. That’s all.”

He doesn’t think twice. There is no weighing the sides, no thoughtful discussion of what it all means, the world you two inhabit, the violence that is an inherent part of it. He’ll die before anyone hurts you again. This is all that really matters, you realize. The world comprises the two of you. Anyone else is on the outside. Maybe in another life you would’ve met, been something different to each other, but it doesn't matter. This is what you got, a man who loves you and will do anything he can to protect you. You will deal with judgment if it comes for you both, but before then, you’ll make sure he knows exactly what you’ll do for him.

“I told you, we’re perfect together. You don’t have to worry about anything now.”

You believe him. It’s a long time before you move from the way he holds you. The way he makes sure you have what you need. He doesn’t lie, and you don’t hide yourself from him. That’s the deal.

x

x

x

a/n Thanks for reading! I'm working on some new stories, but as usual, don't know when I will post. Today is Thanksgiving in the US, and if you are with family this week, and you need some positive energy - remember that they don't define you, and you will find a path of your own, even if it takes more time and work than you hoped.

Tag list.

@raplinenoona, @september-husband, @purest-expressionofgrief

@katieraven @titty-ambulance @bangtannie7 @lunaria88 @savgogh @scuzmunkie

[harrowreads]

OKAY, WELL. YOU KNOW I AM SO FUCKING INNNNN!!!!!!!!!!!!!!

this is so fun and exciting and MYSTERIOUS!!! i took a break from my homework to read this short chapter and i am so glad i did!!! 😍 what a treat. (tiny spoiler under the cut)

i love how this is more or less a one-sided conversation with only your thoughts/feelings and his ego responding to him. Taehyung as a vampire feels like a dangerously delicious combination and i'm so looking forward to more!!!

Run From Me - One | K.TH

p. vampire!taehyung x vampire hunter!reader

g. soulmates - enemies to lovers - reincarnation

r. 18+

w. mentions of blood - hints to murder - mentions of torture - hints to a past life - verbal threats

wc. 782

an. divider and support banner made by @benkeibear

previous | next

Taehyung licked at the blood that bubbled to the surface of his split lip.

He had forgotten how much of a fight you liked to put up. He chuckled as he wiped his mouth with his thumb. The digit, soon wrapped within his lips as he sucked the blood back into his body. You backed away panting. Your chest heaved up and down, your pulse, even as faint as it was, drummed rapidly. Taehyung smiled as the broken skin on his lip started to heal.

"Run from me again and again. I will find you. Every. Single. Time. You are mine. You were mine then as much as you are mine now, my dear."

It was an unspoken truth. You belonged to him. You belonged by his side. You belonged in his bed. It was a tale as old as time.

"So, run. Flee from my arms and take shelter from my eyes. I will grant you this wish, but know this dear one." He stared right at you unblinking. His brown eyes were nearly black as he stepped forward and you took a step back. You didn't want the distance between you to lessen. Not if you could help it. He flashed a wicked grin.

"If anyone else so much as looks at you, I will rip their throats out. I will serve you their blood in the finest of glasses whilst filling a pool. I will burn this world and all those who stand in my way to hold you in my arms once more."

You shook your head in disbelief. Your face twisted in disgust as you looked for a way out.

"Do you think I'm joking, dear one? Do you want me to act upon my words?"

Your eyes snapped to Taehyung's face at the question. How could he be so cruel? Was this nothing more than a game to him? It angered you like never before. Who was he to torment your very soul?

"No?"

You blinked and he stood in front of you. The toes of your shoes touched, your chest raised with each breath and touched the fabric of his red blouse. "Hmmm, how much I have missed this. Missed you."

Taehyung's voice was so warm as he stared at you. He spoke with such honesty that it scared you. Your breath froze in your throat as his hand cupped your cheek; his thumb brushed against the soft skin under your eye.

"Come now, there is no need for tears." he whispered to you. "You can run if you would like. I will not stop you. I would never stop you...the chase is just as fun as the catch."

That mocking smile was back on his lips and you felt your heart squeeze painfully in your chest. What did Taehyung mean? Why did he speak to you as if-

"Be a good little hunter and make it a challenge this time, yes?" 

The hand on your cheek slipped down to the back of your neck. His thumb stroked the curled hair as he spoke. "I wouldn't want to spoil the fun too soon."

Horrible images of dead bodies with their throats torn out came to mind. Streets painted in red, the blood of millions.

"Don't give me that look, dear one. You know what those eyes do to me." The grip on your neck tightened and Taehyung pulled you closer, your chests now touching. You tried to move your face away but he held you firmly, forcing your cheek to rest on his shoulder. He inhaled your scent, creamy sandalwood and cardamom spice with a hint of green citrus.

"Mmmm, maybe I shouldn't let you go?" He nuzzled his nose into the throbbing vein of your throat. His lips ghosted over the tender skin.

"Should I lock you away? Chain you to our bed? Run a stake through your heart while you sleep, so peacefully beside me?"

Your body shook as he listed all the way he could and most likely would kill you. You found yourself asking as much. Wondering if the vampire would be merciful enough to do it quickly.

"Kill you? No, no. I would never kill you, dear one. I cannot live without you. A stake would insure your place by my side, that is all."

You felt sick..A place by his side? He was insane!

"Oh, forgive me. It seems my words have frightened you. Apologies, dear one. I am just rambling. I would never act on such foolish ideas." He inhaled once more before he stepped away from you and licked his lips.

"Now, will you run or will you stay? The choice is yours, of course."

previous | next

[harrowreads]

"Devil Town is tricky, and those who are here are trickier. Whatever it is you are running from, it won't catch you here. It can't. But that doesn't mean you're safe. Don't trust anyone, not even me, and especially not yourself."

> this is chapter 1 of the Devil Town series! peep the master list here. <

i had the pleasure of beta reading the available chapters but it wasn't until now that i have had a chance to review them!!!

i love this story. the way Jay weaves these characters into this world is masterful and there is always a looming hint of curiosity and discomfort as we try to figure out where we are and what we are doing.

> light spoilers under the cut, including which member is which character. <

although we are not given government names throughout the fic, it is clear who is playing each roll. Yoongi as the Guide is so good, and i absolutely love his character. he has the kind impatience one would expect from our favorite sleepy but well-informed Pisces.

He didn't respond immediately this time. Instead, he opened and closed his mouth, the look on his face growing increasingly more frustrated. You glanced down, a movement in his coat pockets capturing your attention. It looked like his hands were shaking, or maybe he was clenching and unclenching his fists. "I can't tell you that," he finally said, his voice less soft and comforting, carrying a bit of that frustration in its tone. "Why not?" "I can't tell you that either," he huffed. You opened your mouth again, but he continued, "And before you ask why again, know that I want to. I always want to. But I can't get the words out of my mouth. I'm not allowed to."

ugh. so good!!!!!

and the descriptions are beautiful. the scene is so vividly laid out yet so ominous and it really adds to a sense of dread that carries us through the universe.

and Namjoon as The Fool ahhhhhhh. he is so perfect for that role (for what we have seen so far) and i am very excited for more!!!

🍂 pairing: yoongi x reader (platonic) 🍂 rating: pg 🍂 au: "over the garden wall"-esque 🍂 genre: autumn?? a lil spooky, a lil whimsy, a lil mystery; not quite angst, not quite fluff 🍂 this part: you wake up on a bench in a forest, with no memory before then of recollection of how you got there. the person greeting you gives you three options: going into the Great Unknown (never to be seen again), wandering the woods (until you become an Edelwood tree), or spending a month in Devil Town. 🍂 tw: none for this part 🍂 wc: ~3.5k 🍂 track: Devil Town ~ Cavetown: "Life's alright in Devil Town, yeah, right, no one's gonna catch us now." (subtrack, Come Little Children ~ Adriana Figueroa, FamilyJules) 🍂 devil town masterlist 🍂 main masterlist 🍂 an: ahhh i can't believe it's finally here!! super special thanks and shout-out to @theharrowing for being the catalyst, inspo, and beta for this little project. i really hope you guys enjoy this and please let me know what you think!

"Led thru the mist, by the milk-light of moon..."

A warm forest canopy greeted you when you opened your eyes, the vibrant reds and oranges of the leaves dense enough you couldn't see the sky. The surface beneath you was hard and cold, with uncomfortable ridges digging into your back. The air was a little chilly, a little misty. You looked around, trying to get your bearings.

The tree trunks were thicker than you'd ever seen before, the bark on them nearly black, with strange holes and creases that almost looked like faces. Slowly, you sat up, carefully moving your limbs to stretch them out. You were lying on a bench, you discovered, in a small clearing next to a well-worn path.

Why did you wake up on a bench?

How did you get here?

"Hey." The voice was quiet and calm, but it still startled you. You thought you were alone out here. "How are you feeling?" You turned towards the sound and watched as a person came into view, almost like he was materializing from the mist between the trees itself.

"Who are you?" You asked as you moved backwards on the bench, hoping to keep some kind of distance between him and yourself. If you had a better idea of where you were, you would've run.

"I am the Guide," he answered, coming further out of the shadows. His hair was light and windswept, his face soft, his cat-like eyes deep and sharp. He kept his hands in the pockets of his coat. You weren't sure if that was comforting or not.

He also didn't really answer your question. "What does that mean?"

"It's pretty straight forward," he responded, "I guide. And I know you have plenty of questions, so just get them out now."

For right now, at least, he didn't seem to be a danger to you. If he was, he would've done something by now. Or maybe he was luring you into a false sense of security, getting you to drop your guard, and then he would strike. Still, he was offering answers of some kind, and you were in desperate need of those, however you could get them.

"Where am I?" You asked as you looked around again, hoping for greater understanding of the woods you had awoken in.

"You are in the Unknown."

Your gaze shot back to him, the Guide. "What does that mean??" You snapped more than asked, because while that was technically an answer, it still didn't tell you anything.

The Guide only shrugged, "If anyone knew, it wouldn't be called 'the Unknown', now would it?"

You could only blink at him, at his non-answers that he probably believed to be helpful. It took you a moment to regather your thoughts and move on to the next most pressing question. "Okay, so, what am I doing here?"

He didn't respond immediately this time. Instead, he opened and closed his mouth, the look on his face growing increasingly more frustrated. You glanced down, a movement in his coat pockets capturing your attention. It looked like his hands were shaking, or maybe he was clenching and unclenching his fists.

"I can't tell you that," he finally said, his voice less soft and comforting, carrying a bit of that frustration in its tone.

"Why not?"

"I can't tell you that either," he huffed. You opened your mouth again, but he continued, "And before you ask why again, know that I want to. I always want to. But I can't get the words out of my mouth. I'm not allowed to."

You felt just as frustrated as he looked. "So what can you do?"

That question seemed to relax him again, his body returning to its odd stillness as he continued to stand there. "I can tell you about the options you have now that you're here."

"Options?" You repeated. "Like what?"

The Guide finally pulled one of his hands out of his pockets, holding a single finger up. "Well, option one: you can walk off in that general direction," he gestured to your right, "towards the light, and enter into the Great Unknown." You turned to look where he indicated.

The path that the bench was next to led either left or right, and the way right was significantly brighter than its opposite. Despite the friendly glow, you felt unnerved.

"But don't people always say 'don't go into the light'?" Because going into the light often meant death.

"And you could listen to them," he said. "Those who choose to go into the Great Unknown are never seen or heard from again. But ultimately, that choice is up to you."

So that way was definitely death.

You looked back at him, hoping for something better. "And option two?"

"Option two is wandering around the woods here," the guide looked around at the trees, "until you eventually and inevitably turn into an Edelwood tree, whose wood—according to legend—is then harvested and turned into oil to be used in some ancient lantern that harbors the soul of the Beast that also wanders the wood."

Now you looked at him like he was crazy. "I'm sorry, what??" He didn't miss a beat or bat an eye, his voice stayed the same even, monotonous tone, he said all of that like it was just another day here, wherever you really were.

"According to legend," he repeated, then shrugging, added, "again, no one really knows. Supposedly, a couple of kids arrived in the Unknown a while back, and they defeated the Beast before taking their leave." He looked away from you again, turning his gaze to the closest tree and slowly looking up. "But if the Beast were truly gone, then why are people still turning into Edelwood trees?"

You paid closer attention to the trees surrounding you now, with their nearly black bark and face-like holes and creases, and felt hundreds of empty eyes fall on you in return. How many people had wandered through the woods here for the forest to become this dense? How many ghosts of screams could you hear echoing on the breeze?

How long would it take the same fate to befall you?

"Is there a third option?" You asked, much more subdued than your recent questions. Part of you wondered if the trees could hear you as well.

"Of course," the Guide answered, and you felt your shoulders relax just a bit at that. "Your third and last option is to spend a month in Devil Town."

You had to close your eyes and take a moment to breathe, to tell yourself to remain calm. "Devil Town."

"Yes. It's not an actual town of devils, that's just its name."

"And no one knows why?" You guessed, opening your eyes to glare at him again.

He merely shrugged, "If we did, it wouldn't be in the Unknown."

You forced yourself to breathe slower, counting to ten in your mind. Yes, the Guide had answered every question you asked, but every answer was a non-answer. They didn't satisfy any of the curiosity you possessed, they simply led to more questions and even more non-answers.

"So my options are, one: definitely death; two: becoming a tree; or three: going to someplace called Devil Town?"

"For a month."

"Huh?"

"If you choose to go to Devil Town, you can only stay for a month," he explained.

"What happens after a month?"

"You get kicked out and you have to make an official choice. Either the Great Unknown, or the woods."

"So if death and tree are my only options in the end, then why bother with Devil Town at all?"

"Well," he started, but then paused. He looked frustrated again, like there were things he wanted to say but wasn't allowed to. Finally, he sighed. "They're your only options in the end right now. Depending on how things go in Devil Town, when your month is up you could have some other, more rare options opened up to you."

That was the first bit of good news you had heard since you woke up. "Like what?"

"Like..." he paused again, still struggling against whatever force was trying to keep him silent. When he spoke again, this time he sounded strained. "Like staying in Devil Town permanently, or, even more unlikely, going home."

You almost stood up in excitement. "If I spend a month in Devil Town, I can go home?"

"Maybe. Again, it depends. There's a lot of things that factor into that becoming an option, and very few have ever achieved it."

"But there's a chance," you insisted.

"Yes," he conceded, starting to relax again.

Part of you wanted to jump up and start heading to the ill-named town, whatever direction it was in, but the other part of yourself held back. "Is that chance worth it?" You dared to ask.

"That's up to you," he responded, yet another non-answer.

You rolled your eyes, wondering when this cycle of questions and non-answers was going to end. "Well, you're the guide! Guide me!"

The Guide shook his head, "I can only guide you towards the Great Unknown or to Devil Town, but you have to choose first."

Something about that made you curious. "Did you choose Devil Town?"

"I did," he nodded, "and then I chose to stay."

"What's it like there?" If this was your best option, you at least wanted to know as much about it as you could before you officially chose it.

He shrugged, "Life's alright in Devil Town. There's not really much to do there, but plenty of people to talk to."

"When does the month start?"

"Once you set foot in the town limits. After that, you have to stay within those limits, or things start getting… messy."

"Messy how?"

"I can't talk about it," he almost snapped, probably getting annoyed at your ability to ask questions he can't answer the way he wanted to. You wanted to ask about that, but figured he wouldn't be able to tell you about that either. "Now, is Devil Town your choice?"

You took one last look to your right, towards where the Great Unknown lied, and then looked up at the trees around you. Death and tree would not give you a chance to get home. You took a deep breath, relishing the cool air, and stood up. "Yes. I'll go to Devil Town."

The Guide nodded, then turned towards your left and started down the path. "Follow me."

You walked behind him in silence. He didn't seem to be much for conversation now that you had made your choice. You looked around as you walked, trying to take in and appreciate your new surroundings, but the trees all looked like they were watching you and you couldn't hear any animals hiding up in the branches. The only sounds you could make out were your combined footsteps on the dirt and the wind rustling through the leaves.

You weren't sure how long had passed before you finally cracked and broke the silence yourself. "Do you have a name?"

"I am the Guide," he responded, rather curtly in comparison to your earlier questions.

"That's a title," you shot back. "Do you have a name? Something people call you when they're talking about you or they're trying to get your attention?"

He didn't answer you right away, and you thought he wasn't going to, that you would go back to walking in silence. After a bit more walking, however, he sighed and said, "I did once. Now I am the Guide, and that's how people refer to me."

"Just, the Guide? There's nothing else?"

"Yes." He stopped walking to turn and look at you, and you nearly ran into him. "Whoever we came to Devil Town as, that's not who we are anymore, so we don't have these 'names'." The Guide turned around again and continued on his way. "You'll understand more after some time there."

You didn't move for a moment, lost in thought wondering what he meant. How did someone just not have a name anymore? And why did he sound a little sad when he said it?

You shook yourself from your ponderings and ran a bit to catch up with him. The last thing you wanted was to get left behind, in fear that you'd end up lost and then turn into a tree anyway. You didn't ask him any more questions, instead letting him guide you in peace.

Soon, you could see a break in the trees ahead of you, and through the mist you could make out the silhouettes of buildings. You started to feel anticipation crawl up your spine as you grew closer, and you wondered at what point you crossed the town limits. Had your month started already?

You could practically feel the mist on your skin as you came out of the tree line, moist and sticky and cold. You wrapped your arms around yourself and walked a bit closer to the Guide, not wanting to lose him. In front of you, Devil Town came fully into view.

The streets were made of cobblestone, with not a sidewalk or stoplight in sight. People loitered around the sides of buildings made of brick, or by lampposts that flickered as if their light was from a candle instead of a lightbulb. Everyone was dressed similarly, in coats that looked fuzzy and warm, with plaid scarves wrapped tightly around their necks. Many of the adults wore formal hats, while children had beanies or earmuffs.

It was like you stumbled into a ghost town that someone had decided to bring back to life, albeit unsuccessfully, and the remnants had yet to fade away again.

As the Guide led you further into Devil Town, an important question came to mind. "Where will I stay?" There were so many small buildings and even smaller shops, but you had yet to see anything that resembled a house or apartment complex.

"With the Fool," he answered, though it didn't give you any more confidence. "He has a book shop with a spare room. That's where most people like you stay until the month is up."

"How do I unlock the option to go home?" You whispered this question, not wanting anyone to overhear you. Home must be a touchy subject for those who were still here. "Is there something specific I need to do?"

The Guide only sighed in frustration, a sound you were starting to get used to. "I can't tell you that." It didn't deter you this time, you simply changed your question.

"What can you tell me?"

He took his time answering you again, this time waiting until the two of you were standing in front of a wooden door. With one hand on the doorknob, the Guide turned to look at you. The intensity of his gaze—locked dead onto yours—forced you back a step.

When he spoke, that intensity was carried through his voice, quiet but pointed. "Devil Town is tricky, and those who are here are trickier. Whatever it is you are running from, it won't catch you here. It can't. But that doesn't mean you're safe. Don't trust anyone, not even me, and especially not yourself."

He didn't give you a moment to recover, to process his words, before turning the knob and pushing inside the building, leaving you to follow after hesitantly.

"Ah, the Guide!" A new, deeper, cheerier voice said. "What brings you here? Another lost soul to harbor?"

You didn't like the term lost soul.

You looked around as they spoke, at the shelves and shelves of books. Or, book. Maybe you were tired or maybe you had become too confused, but it looked like every book was an exact copy of the one next to it: same height, same thickness, same color, same title.

What kind of bookshop only sold one book?

"Yes," came the response from the only person you had met so far. "Is your spare room empty?"

"Of course!" You finally looked at the new person, the Fool, the Guide had said. He was much taller, and was actually smiling at you, with deep dimples in his cheeks. He seemed much kinder than the Guide had when you first met him, but his words outside the shop still reverberated around in your head. "It's right this way," he gestured behind him, "please follow me, miss…?" He trailed off, waiting for you to introduce yourself.

That was when you realized, the Guide had never asked for your name. He never wondered who you were, beyond "another lost soul" to guide through the Unknown.

Don't trust anyone, not even me, especially not yourself.

What scared you the most, however, was that you couldn't answer his question.

"I don't remember," you told them, your voice small and shaky in a way it hadn't been since you woke up on that bench. You were confused, you were concerned, but you hadn't necessarily been scared. "I don't remember my name." You looked back and forth between them, hoping for some kind of help, though you weren't sure what either could offer you.

The Guide merely blinked at your words, probably having heard them before, countless times from countless others he's had to do this with since he chose to stay here. The Fool continued smiling at you, also not concerned but seeming to offer you more comfort.

"That's alright," the Fool shrugged, "you can pick out who you are later. I'll help you, if you like." You wanted his offer to be kind and generous, but it only reminded you of the conversation you had with the Guide on the way here and it only added to the fear that now had a solid grip around your throat.

Still, you walked towards the Fool, wanting to lay down and rest and get a proper moment to think and process everything that had happened. You did try to keep your distance from the bookshelves, still put off by the repeating book.

"Take care of her," the Guide said, taking his own steps towards the door.

"You know I will."

"I know you will try," the Guide sighed, "we'll see what happens. And for you."

You looked back at him, "Yes?"

"Your time has started. Be careful with what you do with it." The Guide turned away, his hand on the doorknob. He didn't turn it, though, instead his knuckles were turning white with how hard he was grasping it. "And whatever you do, stay away from the Loner."

The Guide sounded strained again, like he was specifically trying to get those words out, like it was something he wasn't supposed to be telling you but managed to anyway.. With that final warning, he pulled the door open and exited the bookshop, leaving you alone with the Fool.

"Don't mind him so much," the Fool tried again to comfort you as he led you down a small hallway and up a short staircase. "He tries to act all intense but he's practically harmless." You didn't respond, still worried about too many things, still trying to process everything that was happening.

He stopped outside a simple wooden door and gently pushed it open for you. "Here is your room," he said, "get yourself situated, rest if you like. I'll be downstairs."

You stepped into the space, cozy but still void of any life. A single bed, a chair in a corner, a wardrobe in the opposite one. The window was thin and didn't have much of a view, but it didn't let the cold in.

"Thank you, um..." you trailed off, still unused to the strange naming system. You felt especially uncomfortable calling him the Fool.

"The Fool," he said for you, still smiling. A strange and silly part of you wanted to poke his dimples, just to see if they were real. "And you're welcome. Don't worry too much about forgetting your name. Like I said, we can pick one out for you."

With that, the Fool left you alone, closing the door but not all the way, giving you space but letting you know if you needed something you could go to him.

You went over to the wardrobe, gently tugging on the vintage-looking knobs, worried they would pop out if you pulled too hard. The doors creaked open, showing you clothes similar in fashion to what the people in town were wearing, all dark tones with simple patterns, somewhere between vintage pioneer and modern school uniforms. You shrugged off your current coat, the long, dark brown one you didn't remember how you had gotten, and hung it up on an empty hanger.

Then you tenderly sat on the bed, testing out the mattress before putting your full weight on it. It wasn't the most comfortable thing in the world, but it was better than the bench you woke up on.

Why did you wake up on a bench?

How did you get here?

What had you gotten yourself into?

🍂 thanks for reading!! 🍂 tagging: @secfir

[harrowreads]

CHELL, GOOD GOLLY, WHERE DO I BEGIN????

at the beginning, probably. let's be real.

THIS FIC IS SO FUN AHHHHH!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!! i don't read summaries or warnings so i had no idea what to expect, and i had such a fun time. beta reading this took me way too long because i was also typing up my little thoughts and notes for you, which are under the cut because spoilieeeees.

for those who have not read yet, i will say above the cut, that i encourage you to do so!!! this story is just as fun as it is sexy, and you get a rare treat of Chell writing a reader insert hehe. Jungkook is as adorable as he is sexy, and tbh, the whiplash before that one scene is somewhat astounding (and fitting, giving the circumstances.)

ok let's get it!!!

already we have adorable flirting between jungkook and mc. i love it hehe. NOT LITTLE RED TO MY BIG BAD WOLF LMAOOOOO. oh man.

omg i love Wooyoung. i don't write Ateez members enough, but if i did, he would also be the sassy best friend (which works bc i always slot Jimin into that spot haha. iyk,yk.)

omg is she dressing like a wolf or a cat hahahaha. and putting on cute pink lingerie. is she TRYING TO get jk to undress her tonight??? 😈😈😈

AWEEEE TINY BIG CATSSSS. i love mc haha and i love that we're having a pallas cat here for reasons you are fully aware of hehe.

oooh, Dionysus is fun. sounds like the kind of place my Collateral family needs to own. is it for sale???

awe, i had a feeling that poor little Tisha would come dressed as Little Red lolol.

OH GOOD Taehyung is a menace in every universe. i love him so much. if he's a singer, then i am guessing JK is also part of the band hehehe. excitinggg.

"and Jimin is our manager" stop lashfasklfljasf idk why that's so funny.

oh god JK is immediately flirting i might go die. "I'm still pretty big" STOPPPPPPPPPPPP!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!

OHHHHHHH INTRIGUE!!!!! talk of making mc part of the pack but humans can't join, hmmmmmmmm????? i sense foreshadowingggggg.

ooohhhhh some Tisha pov!!!!!!

"she knows that isn't Jungkook" standing and talking to Taehyung lmao girlie are you sure of that???

"some wannabe rockstar" damnnnn Tisha is rude as hell lmaooo.

ARE YOU GOOD AT BANGING THINGS. TISHA STOP. i'm so embarrassed for her lolololol.

whoa sirens nooo!!! i feel like there has to be laws against someone singing you into their bed lmaoooo. idk how we would regulate for something like that, tho, like....then you're trying to form laws against all species and where does it end??? IT'S A SLIPPERY SLOPE!!!!

omg "are your pack romantically together" i cannot with this girl haha.

ohhhh Tisha is a witch, huh???

OHHHH SHE TURNED EVERYONE INSIDE THE BUILDING INTO THEIR COSTUMES, DIDNT SHE????? would the werewolves still be werewolves tho or are they just humans who know how to play instruments??? lolol.

oh boy, is mc an omega cat hybrid?!!?!? (is she only wearing her cute lingerie set on top or beneath her cat suit??? SO MANY QUESTIONS!!!)(OK YOU ANSWERED MY QUESTIONS THANK YOU HAHAHHAHA.)

man, i love how everyone is able to keep it chill until there are alpha and omega dynamics and they both are like BRAIN EMPTY MUST FUCK.

OK OKOKOKOKOK HOLD ON. why has it never occurred to me before to have an alpha mark a room by PEEING AT THE DOOR. i am just. i love it hahahha. i screamed and then ran to tell you immediately because i could not hold my thoughts in asflajsfjlasfasflafa.

okay well, i assume that the earlier conversation about the pack invite being open means jk has already discussed you with them, because the MATING MARK LOLOL. it's fun how he immediately panics and is like SHIT I AM SORRY bc yeah bro, you just !!!?!!?!!?! dude, come on hahahahhhaaha.

AHHHHHHHH this was so cute. i had no idea what was going on bc you know i never read a summary or warnings to save my life, and i was not sure how the title would come into play until Wooyoung was a literal vampire lmaoooo. this was a blast, and so perfect for Halloween!!!! 😍😍😍 excellent work, my friend!!!

Blessed With A Curse | J.JK

☾ Pairing: Werewolf!Jungkook x Hybrid!Reader

☾ Summary: When your company throws a mandatory Halloween party, you aren’t thrilled. You’re even less thrilled when a delusional coworker ruins the party and places a curse on everyone because her crush, the resident werewolf, Jeon Jungkook, rejected them.

OR

When a coworker gets rejected at the company Halloween party, things get crazy.

☾ Genre/AU: Smut, Werewolf AU, Hybrid AU, Modern Magic AU

☾ Rating: NC-17

☾ Warnings: | alcohol | piss marking (not on a person) | spanking | scenting | shifting | use of magic | cursing | misunderstandings | unrequited love| mating bite | some blood | knotting | a/b/o vibes | licking | spit play | cum eating | fingering | crying | pack!BTS | rockstar!jungkook | semi-public sex | mirror sex | interspecies relationship | open ending

☾ Word Count: 12.7K

☾ 𝖯𝖺𝗋𝗍 𝗈𝖿 𝗍𝗁𝖾 𝖡𝖳𝖲 𝖥𝖺𝗇𝗍𝖺𝗌𝗒 𝖺𝗇𝖽 𝖥𝖺𝗇𝗀𝗌 𝖳𝗋𝗂𝖼𝗄 𝗈𝗋 𝖳𝗋𝖾𝖺𝗍𝗂𝗇𝗀 𝖼𝗈𝗅𝗅𝖺𝖻, 𝗁𝗈𝗌𝗍𝖾𝖽 𝖻𝗒 @sailoryooons 𝖺𝗇𝖽 @theharrowing

a/n: for the wonderful @jessikahathaway! i hope you enjoy this bad boy 'cause it had me on my ass a few times. once i was able to get over myself, this wrote itself and i had fun with it. banner/diver made by the wonderful @itaeewon. betaed by the kickass @theharrowing

song credit: werewolf by montionless in white | wolf by woosung

You are typing away on your keyboard, lost in your own little world. It feels like the day is dragging and you would like for it to be over. At least that is what you were thinking until you noticed that the workplace background noise started to fade away. Gazing up from your computer screen, you see your office manager standing near the main door. He clears his throat and claps his hands three times to get everyone’s attention. What could he possibly want at this hour? Two of the other managers step through the door and you squint trying to figure out why the three of them are here. You don’t recall any email about a meeting.

“Okay everyone! Listen up, please?” The office manager looks around to make sure all eyes are on him before he continues. “As you know our Halloween party is tonight. I expect to see you all there, dressed appropriately!” The office manager stands with his back facing the main door with the HR and Marketing managers on either side of him. The three of them together strongly remind you of Ed, Edd, and Eddy, but you keep that thought to yourself. 

“Everyone will receive a text message with the address, as well as an email. Please make sure to give the company name at the door and enjoy yourselves.”

“I am looking forward to seeing everyone’s costumes tonight. See you all later and until then enjoy your time off!”

The three managers all leave with smiles on their faces and you roll your eyes as you turn your attention back to your computer. Honestly, you forgot all about the Halloween party tonight. It’s not like you have much of a choice, it is mandatory fun. You still have a few more emails to finish up, as well as two more documents to review before you can even think of leaving for the day. A shadow looms over your desk and you sigh knowing that shape right away.

“Jungkook, I swear to God if you try a jump scare I will slam your face through this screen.”

A startled whine comes from behind followed by a deep sigh before Jungkook comes to stand in your line of sight by the side of your desk. His chocolate brown doe eyes are even wider than normal as he stares at you with a pout on his lips, making the clear spacers in his piercings more noticeable.

“You’re no fun. You know that, right?”

You suck your teeth and raise an eyebrow as Jungkook parks his ass on the edge of your desk. His black dress pants strain against his thighs and when you glance up, the white button down he is wearing, pulls at the muscles of his flexed biceps. As the resident werewolf in the office, Jungkook’s muscles are a common topic of conversation…and his impeccable sense of smell. Though Jungkook isn’t the only creature that works with you. There are vampires, goblins, fairies, wyrm, dragons and even mermaids in the office. It is a mixing pot of species which always offers some kind of entertainment for yourself.

“Can I help you, wolfie?” 

Jungkook’s eyes flash a bright red before they shift back to their brown color making you smirk.

“One of these days I’m going to bite you,” Jungkook threatens as he curls his upper lip to show off his elongated canines.

“So I can be stuck with you for the rest of my life?” You grimace and shake your head. “No, thanks.”  

“Like you don’t wanna be part of my pack.” Jungkook licks his lips and runs a hand through his dark hair, a few of the curls tangling around his fingers making his bicep flex once again from the sudden snag. His hair is styled out of his eyes, swooped upwards and back; not a single hair out of place…until now. One lone curl hangs from Jungkook’s head and kisses his temple. You resist the urge to tuck it behind his ear.

“Pretty sure it’s Taehyung’s pack and I would only join for Seokjin’s cooking and a good cuddle with Yoongi.”

Jungkook growls and you laugh knowing that you struck a nerve. You have met Jungkook’s pack mates many times and they are all a bunch of chill guys. They all work on different floors, in different departments. Yoongi is the pack alpha and from what you know, Seokjin, Namjoon and Taehyung are the only omegas in the pack. Taehyung, Yoongi, Namjoon and Jungkook are werewolves, Jimin and Hoseok are demons and sweet Seokjin is an oncilla hybrid. Which blew your mind when you found out because Seokjin is not a little guy by any means, the man is massive.

“Jungkook?” 

A voice calls his name, cutting through your laughter and you smile at your coworker, Tisha. She is a cute little thing. Doesn’t have much height on her, maybe five-one or five-two at best with long black hair and doll-like green eyes. 

“What’s up, Tisha?” Jungkook asks and you turn your attention back to your computer screen, happy for the distraction. You really would like to finish this before it’s time to leave. You would settle for a little overtime, but since tonight is the company wide Halloween party, overtime has been banned. 

“My computer is acting up again. Can you take a look at it?” 

“Have you emailed tech?”

You bite your lip to keep from laughing. Clearly Tisha hasn’t called tech or else she wouldn’t be asking for Jungkook’s help. 

“I thought it would be faster with your help. I know they get busy around this time.”

Jungkook sighs and pushes himself off your desk, “See you at the party tonight?”

You glance at Jungkook and frown, “You sound way too excited.”

Jungkook grins and shrugs his shoulders, “Who doesn’t love a Halloween party?” Jungkook’s smile is blinding as he leans towards you, wiggling his eyebrows. “You gonna be the Little Red to my Big Bad Wolf?”

“Isn’t that a little cliche?” Tisha asks and Jungkook waves off her comment.

“I mean, I am a werewolf, so…” 

Jungkook scrunches his nose and you roll your eyes as you mutter, “More like an overgrown lap dog-”

“I heard that,” Jungkook growls and you smile up at him, widening your eyes to seem more innocent. Jungkook glares at you with no real anger and huffs. “Such a fucking brat,” he grumbles and leaves your space with Tisha right behind him chatting his ear off.

You giggle to yourself and shake your head. Jungkook is something else, that’s for sure. He is your workplace bestie and the biggest pain in your ass all at the same time. Little does he know that your Halloween costume is already picked out. You think Jungkook will get a kick out of it and you might be a little excited to show him.

Standing in your bathroom with a towel wrapped tightly around your body, you wipe the steam from the mirror and sigh. You fell asleep when you got home and slept past your alarm, so now you have forty minutes to get ready if you don’t want to be hella late to the party. Music plays from your bluetooth speaker, filling the air with Jackson Wang’s ‘Cheetah’ and it makes you smile. 

The first thing you get started on is your makeup, a nude smokey cat eye with grey accents is the first half of the look. Followed by painting the lower part of your nose a soft pink and upper lip black. Your lower lip is the same grey from your eyes to pull the whole look together. Removing the towel from around your head, you click your tongue. You quickly twist the hair into two braids that go straight back, secure the ends with bobby pins and pull a wig cap on. 

A set of stencils are on your countertop and you hold one of them up to your forehead. The shape looks weird and you don’t have faith that you will be able to make it look right. Using black eyeshadow and a little eyeliner, you fill in the stencil slowly. A handful of black spots are now on your forehead, they look out of place and you frown. 

Your phone goes off, cutting off the tunes and you glance over to see that Wooyoung, another work friend is calling. You answer the call and put him on speaker as you continue to get ready.

“Bitch! Where are you??”

“I’m getting ready. Where are you?”

“I just left the house, did you want me to pick you up?”

You think it over. You really would love to be able to drink and not have to worry about driving home.

“Can you drive slow?”

“The fuck kinda question-”

“I’m still getting ready, damn. Just text me when you’re out front.”

You hang up the phone and head into your bedroom. Walking over to your closet, you step inside and look at the grey wig you purchased just for this stupid party. Grabbing the wig and the styrofoam head that came with it, you carry everything to the bathroom and set it on the sink. Pulling out your styling products and a pair of hair scissors, you section the wig into parts while singing along to whatever song is playing. For your costume, you think a wolf cut would look cute and match the overall vibe…so, with the scissors in your hands, you get to work. The final product isn’t bad, a nice mix between a shag and mullet. It is roughly sexy and once you place it on your head, you can’t help but grin.

Grabbing a makeup brush, you spend some time on your eyebrows, making them look fluffy and slightly overgrown before you grab the unopened pack of fake canine teeth. Carefully, you glue them onto your own canines and smile at your reflection. It’s all coming together. The last thing you need are the hazel contacts that sit on the counter. You struggle with them, but after a solid five minutes, you have them both in. You look at yourself in the mirror and blow yourself a kiss, this was a wonderful idea!

Leaving the bathroom for the time being, you look at the outfit that is laid out on your bed. A grey bodysuit with black heels, a set of fluffy grey and beige triangle ears and a matching tail. Your phone chimes with a notification and you know that Wooyoung is outside waiting for you. Dropping your towel, you skip over to your dresser and pull open your underwear drawer. 

Looking at the different colors and material, you settle on a baby pink lingerie set that still has the tags on it. It’s a mesh thong with small and medium sized flowers on the sides with an open underwire bra that has the same flowers covering your nipples in a diagonal line. Looking at the set you smile to yourself because you are sure you have a pink choker from your wild days that matches. 

Putting the set on, you slip into the bodysuit and double check that the flower impressions of the lingerie aren’t visible before you search for the choker. Your phone chimes again and you roll your eyes.

“Yes, yes. I’m coming,” you grumble to yourself as you quickly fasten the pink leather choker around your neck. It even has a tiny silver hoop that hangs from which looks cute as opposed to badass. You clip the tail to your outfit, set the ears on top of your head and look at yourself in the mirror one last time.

“Damn, I look good!”

Grabbing your shoes, phone and purse, you head to the front door and text Wooyoung that you are coming outside now. You shove your feet into your black heels and hurry out of your apartment, more than a little excited to see Jungkook’s reaction to your costume. Taking the elevator, you hum to yourself and wait until you reach the first floor. You wonder what Wooyoung is dressed as. You know for a fact that the man is dressed up, he will never pass up a chance to show off his beauty.

Outside of your apartment complex you look around for Wooyoung’s car and spot it across the street. He spots you at the same time and climbs out of his car, whistling as he does so. Wooyoung is stunning in his white ruffled shirt. The loose sleeves cuff around his wrist, the collar is lined with lace, with a keyhole opening on his chest that he pairs with a black leather corset harness. His black dress pants hug him nicely and his freshly dyed black hair hangs just below his eyebrows. 

“Ooooooooh! Look at this sexy lil kitten. Hello, beautiful!” 

You roll your eyes and grin, stepping into Wooyoung’s arms as he hugs you tightly. Pulling away, you tuck a strand of your hair behind your ear and stare at Wooyoung’s hair.

“You look good. Black might just be your color.”

“Please,” Wooyoung pushes towards the other side of the car as he opens his door. “Any color is my color.” 

Once in the car, you buckle up and fiddle with your phone, “Can I DJ?” Wooyoung gives you permission and you giggle to yourself. You have yet to listen to Mark Tuan’s new EP ‘Fallen’, so what a perfect time to do it now. Syncing with the radio, you hit play and ‘Your World’ starts to play. 

“I don’t recognize the voice,” Wooyoung comments and you shake your head.

“Cause your taste in music is shit. This is Mark Tuan’s new EP.” 

“I’m going to pretend you didn’t say that. Would be a real shame if your door just magically opened, huh?”

You laugh and Wooyoung sucks his teeth, coming to a stop at a red light. Looking out the window, you notice that the clouds above are a pale grey color that carries the promise of a light shower later on.

“Who do you think is going to out their office romance this year?” Wooyoung’s voice pulls you from your thoughts and you shrug your shoulders. 

You remember from last year that your office manager and one of the newer interns wore matching Halloween costumes. They were the only workers dressed as Team Rocket from Pokemon. You haven’t really heard any dating rooms going around in your office but that doesn’t mean the rest of the office is innocent. 

“I heard Jungkook was going to be the Big Bad Wolf…not much creativity there.”

“Oh, you think?”

“If I was a fucking werewolf, I would pick something else-”

“Like what?”

“I don’t know…maybe a dog catcher?” 

You whip your head to the side to look at Wooyoung and he glances at you from the corner of his eye. 

“What? That’s pretty fucking clever!”

“I-I can’t believe you just said that.”

There is a small beat of silence before you and Wooyoung both start to laugh.

“Jungkook would rip you a new one if he heard that,” you wheeze, thankful that you used waterproof makeup since your eyes are tearing up.

“I mean, come on. That would be fucking iconic!”

You shake your head in disbelief and Wooyoung giggles. 

“So, I get that you’re a cat, but like, I have no idea what kind.”

“You really can’t tell what breed I am?” 

“I just said that.” Wooyoung shots you an unimpressed look and you sigh.

“Damn, I thought it was obvious. I’m a pallas cat!”

“A what?” 

“Oh come on, Woo! It’s my favorite animal of all time! It’s one of the tiny big cats.”

Wooyoung raises an eyebrow and shrugs his shoulders, “I’ll take your word for it, kitten.” 

Based on the company-wide email, the club is called Dionysus and the music rattles the windows of Wooyoung’s car as he finds a parking space. Outside there is a slight chill in the air, the scent of fried foods and sweat riding the current that creeps from the open door that leads into the club. With Wooyoung by your side, you make your way to the front of the line. People glare at the two of you but Wooyoung grabs your hand and gives it a firm squeeze. 

“Don’t worry about them. We have people inside waiting.” 

At the front of the line, a woman with startling electric blue eyes raises an eyebrow as Wooyoung walks up to her. There are a pair of black rounded ears on top of her head and you know that she is some kind of hybrid, but you aren’t sure what breed. Maybe a rodent of some short, you think she could be an opossum. She is dressed all back, with the club’s name written in silver cursive across her chest.

“You don’t see the line?” Her voice is sharp and Wooyoung shakes his head.

“We’re not trying to be late, our boss is expecting us. Blue & Grey Enterprise.” 

The woman nods her head and looks down at the clipboard in her hands, “Names?”

Wooyoung rattles off your names and she asks for ID before the two of you can enter the club. The club looks more like an opera house. It’s a large glass and iron building with beautiful ash-white archways, spicy grey pepper LVP flooring and an endless supply of natural light. Simple tracking light fixtures are placed through the club, spaced together in groups of two with elegant grey and white pendant lights hanging at tasteful intervals. There are two floors to the club and the moment you step through the doors, you feel like you have been transported to another world. 

It feels like the scene of a high budget movie. All around you, people are dancing with drinks in their hands. The lighting is a mix of blue, purple and red with smoke snaking around on the floor. The walls seemingly reflect the lighting, creating a mirror like effect that shimmers and glows. The air is warm but you can feel that the air conditioning is on somewhere, most likely on the second floor since heat rises. Large floor to ceiling silk curtains hang from up high, sheer and light in soft shades of cream that drink in the colors of the lights. 

“Come on, let’s find our group.” 

Wooyoung moves to the far edge of the dance floor, closer to the wall as he pulls you along behind him. In the corner elevated above the crowd, a large DJ box is suspended with hanging black ivy, fairy lights and a floating staircase. The DJ wears an oversized head piece that resembles a Greek statue with a gold and emerald circlet on top. The place is impressive and you wonder why the company chose such an extravagant place. Many people are dressed in costumes as you walk past and from the amount of skin shown you know that none of the people on the lower level are from your company. 

A set of steps leading to the upper level catch your eye and as you get closer, you notice that there is a guard dressed much like the woman from out front. The security guard stands with his arms crossed over his chest and he looks completely unphased by the strangers around him. Upon seeing you and Wooyoung, he narrows his eyes and Wooyoung shows his work ID. Following his lead, you do the same and the man nods his head before he unlatches the green and gold ivy rope that blocks off the upper floor.

“Enjoy yourselves tonight.”

Wooyoung releases your hand and motions for you to walk up before him. He blocks anyone’s eyes from staring at your butt and you giggle to yourself. Wooyoung is such a gentleman, you love him dearly. 

If you thought the lower level was something out of a movie then the upper level is pulled straight from the dreams of an elite designer. Dark wooden furniture with plush white and black setting, vines of ivy clung to the walls, golden ring lights are pressed into the ceiling with more of the white pendant lights hung in small clusters. A single bar top that runs the entire length of the room, is pressed against the wall. The counter is too far away to see but you wouldn’t doubt if it was marble.

You spot a few familiar faces and point out the coworkers to Wooyoung. The two of you head over to say hello before you search for your friends. 

“Oh my God, you made it!!!” 

Arms wrapped around your waist tightly, squeezing the breath from your lungs and when you look down, a bright red hood is all you see.

“Your costume is so cute! Are you a hybrid?” 

The body pulls away and those striking green eyes spark up at you. You take in the woman’s sultry makeup, the soft curls in her hair and the spillage of boob from the white ruffled blouse that has a black corset pushing everything upwards. 

“Tisha! You look…wait, are you Little Red?” 

You stare down at your coworker and you can feel the pride spilling off her as she grins and nods her head. Her curls bounce around her shoulders and you can’t help but laugh. Of course she would want to match with Jungkook.

“It suits you.” You look around and you don’t see Jungkook at all.

“Right! I just know Jungkook will love it!” Tisha smooths her hands over the red skirt of her dress and cocks an eyebrow. “So, what kind of hybrid are you?”

“A cat.”

“That’s so cute! You and Jungkookie always but heads, so it works too!”

“Huh?” 

Tisha waves her hand around and shrugs her shoulders, “You know what I mean, right? Like the two of you are always bickering.” You hum in agreement and she pulls at your arm as another smile takes over her face. “Let’s get a drink!”

Together, you head over to the bar and sure enough, the bar top is white and black marble. To your left you notice a familiar face, “Taehyung?”

The man turns at the sound of his name and mismatched brown eyes find yours. A boxy smile pulls at a set of lips and you find yourself smiling as well. If Taehyung is here then you know Jungkook isn’t too far behind. Taehyung’s eyes drink you in from head to toe and he nods his head, “A cat hybrid? Cute.”

“You think so?” You twirl around for Taehyung and he chuckles at the sight of your tail.

“You really put some effort into it.”

“Do you like my costume?” Tisha jumps into your conversation with Taehyung and his eyes slide over to her.

He raises an eyebrow and clicks his tongue, “Little Red…how original.”

You bite the inside of your cheek to keep from laughing at Taehyung’s unimpressed tone but Tisha is clueless. 

“I know Jungkook said he needed a Little Red to his Big Bad, so yeah. I thought it would work out.” Tisha gushes and Taehyung’s head tilts in confusion.

“Big Bad…like-like the wolf?” 

“Yeah, duh! What else would he be?”

Taehyung looks down at his outfit and you take the time to figure out what he could be. His usual dark brown hair is dyed a soft honey brown and cut into a mullet. His warm brown eyes are underlined in thick black liner with a black smudged smokey look and there is a tinted balm on his lips. A double chained necklace hugs his throat a little looser than the choker that you wear and it’s paired with a white tank top that hangs loosely around his frame. A leather jacket with silver studded sleeves really pulls the whole look together with simple black leather pants and chunky black boots. 

“Are you in a band?” You question and Taehyung grins.

“I’m the lead singer, pretty.”

“That doesn’t make any sense,” Tisha pouts and Taehyung takes a sip of his drink before he looks at Tisha.

“Oh really? And why is that?”

“Jungkook is the Big Bad Wolf. Why would you be a singer of a band?”

“I wonder?” Taehyung muses with a knowing look and you roll your eyes. “Can I get you a drink?” Taehyung offers and you laugh.

“It’s a company party, Tae. The drinks are free.”

Taehyung puts his hands up with a laugh, “Worth a shot.” Taehyung raises his hand to get one of the bar tender’s attention and when the young guy comes over, you order a whiskey sour while Tisha orders a tequila sunrise. The three of you chat for a while and Tisha looks bored.

“Where is Jungkook?” She asks for the umpteenth time and Taehyung ignores the question.

“Why don’t you go look for him, hmm? I’m sure he’s around here somewhere,” you offer seeing the way Taehyung’s jaw ticks.

Tisha scans the room and nods her head with a sigh, “Better than being here all night.”

When Tisha is out of sight Taehyung downs the rest of his drink and slams the glass down on the bar top.

“Thank fuck, she’s gone. Holy shit! How can she not take a hint? Damn!” Taehyung curses as he runs a hand through his hair. “Does she really think Jungkook likes her? I’ll kick his ass outta the pack, I swear to Luna!”

You laugh and slap Taehyung’s shoulder, “Shut up, you will not!” You shake your head and sip at your drink. “Besides, I’m sure that Jungkook is reaching his limit…assuming that this band you speak of, is with the whole pack?”

Taehyung ducks his head, trying to hide his smirk but you know him better by now. 

“What’s everyone’s role?”

“I’m the singer, Hoseok is lead guitar, Namjoon is bass, Jungkook is drums, Yoongi is keyboard, Seokjin is rhythm guitar and Jimin is our manager.”

You giggle and try to imagine the pack as full fledged rock stars.

“Can Hoseok even play the guitar?” 

Taehyung laughs as he shakes his head, “Nope, but he looks good holding one.”

“Who looks good?” 

That all too familiar voice creeps up behind you and you feel an arm being thrown around your shoulders. 

“Get off me, wolf boy!” 

Warm musk, with a slightly fresh and clean scent engulfs you as you are pulled into a tight embrace. 

“Oh, cat ears? Cute!” 

You push at the chest that is in front of you and when you can see light again, you glare up at Jungkook as he smirks down at you. You notice right away that Jungkook has two silver hoops in his lower lip and you swallow thickly. Jungkook’s eyes seem to darken as he looks down at you and before you can say anything he boops your nose with his index finger.

“Are you a pallas cat?” He steps closer and you feel his hand slide down the length of your spine, stopping at the small of your back, where your tail is clipped. “You even have a cute little tail. Such a cute little kitten…”

“S-Shut up! What happened to the big bad wolf, huh?” You poke at his chest and Jungkook pretends to be wounded as he backs away and stands by Taehyung’s side. 

At this distance you can take in his full costume, and honestly he looks good. His hair has been dyed black and style messily with wisps and spikes while a fringe hangs in his eyes. You assume that he is wearing clip-in to give himself a little more length in the back for his shorter mullet. Jungkook’s ears are completely adored in many silver hoops that are mismatched in size and style, along with a chunky chain necklace. 

He’s wearing a white graphic t-shirt tucked into a pair of plaid pants that have different shades of blue and red; with fabric straps buckled around each of his thighs. A matching jacket is worn over top and large black boots with five thick buckles complete his outfit. Taehyung said that Jungkook was the supposed drummer and he definitely looks the part.

“What? I’m still pretty big-”

“Shut up!” You snap as heat attacks your face and Jungkook just smirks while Taehyung laughs.

“Have you seen Tisha yet?” Taehyung asks and Jungkook raises an eyebrow.

“No…should I have?”

“For fuck shakes….” You whine and Taehyung chuckles.

“You’ll find out sooner or later.”

Wooyoung emerges from the crowd and throws himself at the bar. Sweat is beading along his forehead and his hair is now sticking to his face as he pants to catch his breath. You look at your friend and pat his back soothingly while raising your hand to order him a glass of water.

“So many people…and it’s not even just our company. There is another one here too.”

“I thought I didn’t recognize a lot of people,” Jungkook sighs and Wooyoung licks his lips.

“I don’t know how many times I’ve been hit on but someone grabbed my ass and I was done.”

“That fucking sucks.”

Everyone stares at Jungkook and his face heats up as he holds up his hands and shakes his head. “Oh my God! N-No, that’s not like…shit! That’s not what I meant. I wasn’t trying to be funny.” Jungkook stammers seeing that Wooyoung is dressed like a vampire.

“You’re so fucking stupid,” You laugh and Jungkook pouts while Taehyung just sips his new drink.

A piano playing a well known beat catches your ears and you perk up.

“I love this song!” You rush off to the dance floor without looking back and Jungkook growls seeing the different set of eyes following after you.

“Down, boy,” Taehyung teases and Wooyoung chokes on his water. “You can go if you want but Jimin and Hoseok are out there. The three of them together will be safe.”

Wooyoung nods in agreement and clears his throat, “When are you gonna drop the invite into the pack?” 

“It’s open-”

“Never.” Jungkook’s voice is flat as he glares at Taehyung and Taehyung just huffs with an eye roll. “A human can’t be in the pack. It isn’t safe.”

Weaving in and out of people, Tisha searches for Jungkook. She has not found a single man dressed as the Big Bad Wolf and she is starting to wonder if maybe Jungkook hasn’t arrived to the party yet. She met Taehyung at the bar and while walking around she sees Jimin and Hoseok on the dance floor. Seokjin, Namjoon and Yoongi are sitting at one of the booths with drinks in front of them, just chatting it up, but no Jungkook. 

Another thing that is bothering her is that the members of Jungkook’s pack are all dressed in a similar fashion. Eyeliner, smokey eyeshadows, leather and chains with black boots. She always thought that packs tended to do group costumes as part of their culture. It is in their blood to want to match or at least coordinate with each other.

Feeling thirsty, Tisha moves through the bodies around her and heads towards the bar. She spots Taehyung in the same spot that she left him but this time he is talking to another man. She cannot tell who it is from the back, but she knows that it isn’t Jungkook. Sighing, Tisha stands in front of the bar and ignores Taehyung and the other man as she orders a double shot of tequila with a long island iced tea as a chaser. 

“You okay, Tisha? You’re looking a little down.” 

Tisha’s eyes slide to the side and she sees Wooyoung looking at her with concern in his brown eyes. 

“I can’t find Jungkook anywhere!” Tisha whines and Taehyung sips his drink. This has nothing to do with him. “His whole pack is here but he is-”

Tisha spots movement in her peripheral coming towards Taehyung and then there is a brief pause. She turns her head and sure enough Jungkook is standing a few feet away looking at the phone in his hand. A smile starts to tug at Tisha’s lips as she takes a step towards Jungkook but she stops and looks at him. He isn’t dressed as the big bad wolf at all. If anything he’s dressed as some wannabe rockstar from the 80’s. 

“Hey…Jungkook?” Tisha calls out to him and Jungkook looks up from his phone. His eyes widen when he sees that Tisha is wearing a Little Red Riding Hood costume. “I-I thought you were gonna be a wolf?” 

“Oh, um…yeah. I was just joking around.”

Tisha bites her bottom lip and tilts her head to the side, “You look good. This is a different look. It’s very…different.”

“Thanks! I’m the drummer in the pack,” Jungkook winks and Tisha giggles.

“Yeah? Are you good at banging things?” 

Jungkook opens his mouth and quickly closes it before he rubs the back of his neck and Tisha’s eyes widen.

“Um, so-sorry, that came out wrong.”

Taehyung and Wooyoung share a look and before Taehyung can take pity on his pack mate, Jimin and Hoseok bust through the crowd of people with you right behind them. Jimin’s face is flushed and his eyes are ink black. Taehyung jumps to his feet and Jungkook is pulling you out of Hoseok’s grasp, pushing you behind himself.

“What happened?” Taehyung demands as he pulls Jimin into his arms. Jimin’s body melts, legs go weak and Taehyung helps him over to the bar. He sits Jimin in his chair and smooths the black hair from Jimin’s face. 

Hoseok runs a hand through his own shaggy brown hair that is also cut into a mullet as well. “Some asshole siren tried to corner her-” Hoseok points in your direction, “into leaving with him.”

“What?” Jungkook whips around to face you and grabs your arms, turning you every which way to make sure you are unharmed. “Are you okay? Did he touch you?”

“I’m fine, Jungkook.” You cup Jungkook’s face in between your hands, seeing that his eyes are now ruby red. “I promise. Jimin defended my honor.”

“I should have ripped that asshole’s head off!” Jimin hisses and Hoseok rubs his back as he nods his head in agreement.

“Why didn’t you?” Jungkook snaps and Hoseok clears his throat.

“We’re at a work event, Kook. Wouldn’t be a good look for our very human bosses to see us covered in blood.”

Jungkook grumbles under his breath and nuzzles into the palm of your hand. You smile and coo at him, scratching right behind his ear.

“Who’s a good boy?”

“Fuck off,” Jungkook laughs as he pushes you away from him and you notice Tisha standing at the bar for the first time.

“I need a drink,” Jimin mutters and Taehyung waves over the bartender.

“Anything you in the mood for?” Taehyung questions and Jimin shakes his head. “Shots for everyone?”

“Yes!”

“Bring it!”

Taehyung orders two rounds of shots and you all gather around Jimin. Holding a glass in your hand you stand beside Jungkook and grin as you all clink your glasses together. Downing your shot you curse as it spills out of your mouth a little and dribbles down your chin.

“Did you fucking miss your mouth?” Jungkook laughs and wipes at the corner of your mouth with his thumb. “Such a messy kitten, huh?” 

“Shut up!” You pout and your whole body shivers as the liquid makes its way through your body and warms your chest.

Jungkook brings his thumb to his mouth and sucks the extra liquor from his finger making your eyes widen, and before you can comment, Tisha speaks up.

“Are you two dating?” She asks, looking between you and Jungkook with narrowed eyes.

“What?”

“Excuse me?” 

You and Jungkook take a step away from each other while shaking your heads.

“Wolfie isn’t my type.” You lie through your teeth. Jungkook is every bit your type, but he doesn’t date humans.

“Yeah, not really feeling the whole easily killed bit,” Jungkook points out and Tisha’s whole face lights up.

“Jungkook?” Tisha calls his name and sets her glass on the bar top. “Can I talk to you for a moment please?”

Jungkook looks at Taehyung for help but he is ordering another round while Hoseok is making sure Jimin is okay. Wooyoung is watching it all unfold and you are ignoring Jungkook now since Tisha’s question. Jungkook sighs and steps to the side, making room for Tisha to walk past. 

“Lead the way,” Jungkook relents and follows Tisha in silence. 

“You think she’s gonna drop the bomb?” Wooyoung wonders as he knocks back a shot and your face scrunches up.

Tisha and Jungkook…yeah that won’t go over well with the pack. The pack is a family and it is hard to leave, so when a member starts to court someone, the pack has a huge say in the matter. None of Jungkook’s packmates like Tisha and Jungkook has voiced his grievances about Tisha to you many times. Overall you think Tisha is okay, but she is a bit spoiled and wants things her way. You glance up at the glass ceiling of the club and the clouds above are a little darker but you can still see some of the stars in the sky.

“I think Jungkook is fucking clueless about her feelings and might break her heart,” Taehyung voices and you suck your teeth. You hope he doesn’t make her cry, that would be embarrassing for everyone.

Outside on a balcony tucked behind large white and gold curtains, Tisha stands with Jungkook hidden in the dark of the night. The air is cool enough for goosebumps to appear on Tisha’s arms and Jungkook frowns. 

“We should get back inside quickly. You could get sick out here.”

Tisha smiles at Jungkook’s thoughtfulness and grabs the end of her cape before she hugs an arm around her body, underneath her breasts; surrounding herself in a little bit of warmth. Her free hand plays with a strand of hair and she looks up at the sky. Inhaling deeply before she lets it out, Tisha thinks of how she can start the conversation.

“It’s beautiful out tonight, right?” Her eyes fall to Jungkook and she watches in silence as Jungkook glances up at the stars, nodding his head in agreement. “I’ve always loved the night time, it’s so much more peaceful.”

Jungkook bites the inside of his lip, nibbling on the back of his lip ring as he listens to Tisha talk. He really doesn’t understand what she is trying to say but he’ll let her ramble if it makes her feel better.

“Jungkook can I…” Tisha sighs and tucks the strand of hair in her hand behind her ear. “Can I ask you a personal question?”

Jungkook’s brows raise and he stares at Tisha unsure if he wants to hear the question.

“Um, yeah…I guess.”

“Your pack. A-Are you together?”

“Huh?”

“Like romantically, are you together?” 

Jungkook’s mouth drops open and his eyes widen, “What? Nooooo! No, no, no-” He laughs and shakes his head, “Luna, no! They are more like my brothers than anything.”

“Really? You guys seem close.”

Jungkook tugs at his earlobe and fiddles with one of the earrings. “I mean that’s what a pack is. They know me better than anyone in the whole world. They look out for me and make sure I’m okay. And I do the same for them. It’s hard to explain to a human, but think of wolves as-” Jungkook hums as he thinks of the right term to use, “Soulmates. That’s pack. We all found each other in this crazy fucking world and we make each other better, as brothers.”

“And if you want to date outside of the pack?”

“Date? Yeah, that’s an option too. Just because we live together doesn’t mean that we can’t date or have a normal love life. Our partners become part of the pack and that’s really it.”

Tisha nods her head at the information and Jungkook rubs the back of his neck, not sure what else to say.

“Jungkook?”

“That’s me!” Jungkook tries to joke and Tisha smiles.

“I um, I-I really like you and I want to…well-” Tisha sighs and shakes her head before she steadies her nerves. “Would you like to go out with me?”

Jungkook stares at Tisha unblinking. He looks down at his shoes, over to the plant in the corner and back to Tisha’s shoes before he looks up into her face. She is staring with wide eyes, her mouth pressed into a weary smile as she waits for an answer.

Jungkook’s mouth opens and closes a few times before he clears his throat and huffs out a dry laugh. “That’s um, well you see-”

“You can pick the time and place. I don’t care where it is as long as I’m with you.” Tisha quickly interrupts and Jungkook licks his lips, fighting to figure out how to break her heart nicely. 

“Yeah, that’s not the issue, Tisha.”

“Do you want me to pick the place?” Tisha’s eyes seem to sparkle in the low lighting of the stars and artificial candle flames that sit in old iron lanterns. 

“You’re not understanding me.” Jungkook sighs and licks his lips before he kicks at the ground with the toe of his boot. “I’m not going to date you…ever.”

“Wh-What? B-But, why? You’re single and I’m single.”

“Yeah, but I’m not attracted to you. I never was and I’m sorry if I ever gave you that impression but-”

“Is it someone at work? Do you like someone else?”

“What?”

Jungkook’s eyes double in size and Tisha laughs something hollow and cold. In the green of her iris, small wisps of smoke start to swirl around in her eyes as the wind around them picks up.

“Who is it, Jungkook? Who can’t let you go? You belong with me!” Tisha shouts above the wind as it starts to moan and groan. Leaves and debris from the street are whisked into the air and thrown about. “Who?!” Tisha demands and Jungkook shakes his head.

“What are you doing, Tisha? Stop it! You’re going to hurt someone!” Jungkook takes a step forward and Tisha shoves her arm out. A strong gust of wind knocks Jungkook back onto his ass and his eyes glow red as he glares at the woman before him.

“If you won’t tell me who it is then everyone shall suffer!”

“What?!” 

Jungkook watches in horror as the clouds above darken into a deep grey, almost black and circle over the club. A sudden bolt of lightning strikes the building and the whole place is plunged into darkness before the clouds start to thicken and drop down into a cyclone with the club being in the eye of the storm.

“I can’t date you, Tisha!” Jungkook yells as he forces himself to half shift, his nails elongating enough to dig into the concrete beneath him. “You’re human. Witch or not, it wouldn’t work!”

“That’s a lie!” Tisha shouts and another bolt of lightning strikes the building, this time a deep emerald green color. Green smoke falls from the cycling and there are sudden screams from inside. Jungkook’s eyes dart towards the doors and his heart pounds in his chest, he can feel his pack mate’s fear through their bond. Suddenly everything inside goes quiet. The screams, the music, everything is deathly still and Jungkook’s eyes shift to red.

“What did you do?” Jungkook demands. He can’t feel his packmates anymore. Tisha grins and it’s wrong. Twisted and crazed as she licks her lips.

“This is your punishment, Jeon Jungkook! Suffer with everyone else!” Tisha hisses and crackles something wicked before she disappears in a green poof of smoke. The clouds lighten and thin out and shortly after like the play button on a remote had been pressed the lights in the club come back on.

“Jungkook?!”

“Kookie!?” 

Namjoon and Seokjin’s voice call his name over the music, closer to the door. Jungkook glances at where Tisha stood, scared that she will harm his packmates even when he cannot smell her. 

“Jungkook?!”

Arms wrap around Jungkook, the scent of pack, his pack floods his senses and his body slowly untenses from the unease that grips his heart. He is stuck staring at the spot where Tisha was standing and Namjoon waves his hand in front of his face.

“Jungkook, what the fuck happened? We felt your fear from inside…are-are you okay?” Seokjin looks over Jungkook’s body while Namjoon searches the balcony for anything unnatural. 

There is a scent in the air, heartache, longing and such ire. Namjoon rubs his nose and sneezes, shaking his head as he walks back over to Seokjin who is helping Jungkook stand on his own two feet. 

“What happened?” Seokjin asks once more and Jungkook shakes his head. He doesn’t believe it himself.

“Hyung…Tisha is a witch. I-I think she put a curse on me?”

“What?!” Namjoon and Seokjin both shout and stare at Jungkook in disbelief; he is just as shocked. Witches aren’t rare but they tend to work and live within their coven. To have a lone witch…Tisha must be very powerful.

“We need to contact Hyunwoo and-”

Someone screams from inside the club and the sound of glass shattering fills the air before growls, hisses and more screams pour out into the night air.

The three of them share a look and rush inside, scared for the rest of their packmates. Inside the club, a million different scents assault their noses. Strong scents of fear, confusion and bloodlust are hard to ignore.

“What the fuck is happening?” Seokjin gasps as he sees creatures being held down out all over the place. 

The sharp scent of death catches Namjoon’s attention and he growls low in his chest, “Pack!” 

Seokjin and Jungkook rush after him as Namjoon barrels through the bodies, pushing everyone out of his way. At the bar, Jimin, Taehyung, and Yoongi are acting as a living barricade around Hoseok who is holding your unconscious body as Wooyoung hisses, his eyes are black with red spider veins pulling at his pale skin, and there are razor sharp fangs dripping venom in his mouth.

Jungkook blinks a few times and rubs at his eyes. No, there’s no way. Wooyoung isn’t a vampire, he’s human like you…Jungkook looks past his packmates and his breath catches in his throat. The grey ears on top of your head twitch and flicker in his direction before Hoseok’s red eyes find him.

“What the fuck?!” Jungkook growls under his breath and Hoseok is just as confused.

“We need to get out of here, now!” Yoongi growls as he shoves Wooyoung back, sending the fledgling into the nearest table.

Wooyoung picks himself up and snarls, his teeth dripping venom and before he can attack, another vampire, much older and more powerful (Jungkook thinks his name is San) grabs him and uses his own power to put him under.

“Thank you.” Yoongi gives the vampire a firm nod and they all turn to your unconscious form in Hoseok’s arms.

“We leave now.” Taehyung leaves no room for debate and they all form a barrier around you and Hoseok.

“Oh my God! It’s BTS!!” Someone’s voice shouts over all the chaos and all at once, all eyes in the place are focused on Jungkook and his pack.

“Huh?” Hoseok looks around confused, he isn’t sure what is going on. BTS? Yeah, that’s what they decided to call their little band for the night. It’s short for Bangtan Sonyeondan, something Namjoon and Yoongi came up with on the fly.

“Jungkook, marry me!”

“Yoongi, marry me!”

All over everyone is screaming their names, shouting for their attention and are forcefully restrained by security guards. One guard comes up to them and others clear a path for the group to be led down the steps and onto the first floor.

The pack looks at Taehyung and he nods his head, his face void of any emotion. Hoseok tightens his hold around you and together, BTS walk through the cleared path and down the steps. The DJ from before is completely marble and stands frozen in time. Jungkook’s eyes widen as he follows the group and notices that they are being led to a stage that he didn’t notice in the midst of everyone dancing before.

As Taehyung steps onto the stage, the others follow suit. Hoseok silently hands you over to Jimin and pats his shoulder. 

“Keep her safe…” 

Jimin shifts you in his arms while the rest of the pack go up on stage and his nose wrinkles as lime zest and cane sugar tickle his senses. A faint milky undertone sits at the base of the scent and Jimin growls low. Omega. 

On stage, Taehyung steps up to the mic and clears his throat.

“Uh…yeah. So, we’re BTS and I honestly have no fucking clue what is going on. But, whatever! We’re here and it would be a waste to pass up such a nice stage.”

Jimin snorts at Taehyung’s words. Something has happened and while he isn’t sure what, Jimin can smell the ever subtle trace of magic in the air. The pack all look at each other and take their positions, Jungkook sits behind a drum set, Hoseok and Seokjin grab guitars, Namjoon picks up a bass and Yoongi stands behind a keyboard. 

Taehyung howls into the mic and Jungkook comes behind him on the drums. Namjoon’s fingers pluck at the strings of his bass while Seokjin starts the rhythm and soon the whole band is playing as Taehyung sings.

I can feel you, I can hear you, howling in my bones

There’s an evil lurking in the dark (there’s an evil lurkin’ in the dark)

Ever shifting, skin is ripping, as you take control

I can’t tell where you end and where I start (there’s an evil lurkin’ in the dark)

Namjoon and Jungkook act as the backing vocals, giving the song an added layer of dark mystery.

A ferocious diagnosis, under moonlit hands, will

The man become the monster or the monster become man?

Seokjin sings in a higher register than Taehyung and the crowd is eating it up.

I could be up all night, but I’m paralyzed when the creature comes alive

'Cause it’s fight or fright, in the full moonlight

You can run but you can’t hide

I could be honest, I could be human

I could become the silver bullet in your head

But no one can break my heart like I can

(Werewolf)

As Yoongi howls and the band continues to play, you start to stir in Jimin’s arms. Your eyes open, squinted and blinking rapidly as you try to adjust to the lighting. Jimin coos down at you, nuzzling his nose against yours with a pensive smile on his face.

“Hey, welcome back.”

You groan in response and Jimin carefully lowers you to the floor, keeping an arm around your waist as strength comes back to your legs. Everything is loud, so, very loud. The lighting is making you feel sick as well and the top of your head feels like it’s on fire. You reach up to scratch at your scalp and Jimin quickly grabs your hand.

“Wait…j-just wait a minute.” 

“It itches! This headband needs to go.” You whine and Jimin nods his head in understanding.

“Right…the headband.” 

Jimin lets go of your hand and you eye him weary as you reach up to snatch the headband from your head. You touch something soft and your whole body shivers, your stomach twisting into knots.

Bleed the neon from the bite marks, ever bittersweet

Smile for the camera but don’t flash your teeth (everybody loves a mystery)

Let the bodies hit the dance floor to this heartbreak beat

I feel like somebody’s watchin’ me (feels like everybody’s watchin’ me)

Seductively destructive, we are true romance

Does the man become the monster or the monster become man?

Your head snaps to the side and your eyes widen at the sight of Jungkook and his pack performing on stage. You remember Taehyung telling you that Hoseok could not play the guitar, but you can’t tell from how he is shredding away. Your eyes jump from member to member and they are each playing the instrument that Taehyung has told you about. You never knew that Jungkook could even play the drums.

“What is even going on?” You whisper, feeling like this has to be some kind of dream. 

You look at Jimin to ask a question and gasp, flinching when you feel a sharp pain in your lower back. A hiss spills from your lips and Jimin eyes you critically. Your eyes start to water and you don’t understand why you are in pain. Jimin’s eyes soften in understanding and he moves you to stand in front of him.

“One moment, kitten.” 

Jimin forces his nails to grow and pinches the fabric of your bodysuit between his fingers. Carefully he rips the fabric at the base of your spin and you shiver as his fingers wrap around something that wasn’t there before. You feel Jimin pull something out of your bodysuit and the pain is gone.

“Feel better, kitten?” 

“Um…yeah. W-What did you do? What did you pull-” You jump at the feeling of Jimin’s hands on your…it’s not your butt but it’s pretty close. Turning your head to look over your shoulders, your hazel cat eyes double in size at the sight of a grey tail. “Is that-”

“You’ve got a tail to match your pretty ears…”

“I-I…what is happening to me?”

Jimin wraps his arms around your waist and holds you as you slowly start to fall apart. Your thoughts are running a mile a minute, you don’t understand what has happened. One minute you were joking with Wooyoung and the next everything was pitch black and you suddenly had the worst headache of your life. Wooyoung dropped to the floor unconscious and when you checked for a pulse there wasn’t one. 

Your head still hurts and when you go to rub it once more, you feel soft fur as it tickles your fingertips. Ears…you have real animal ears on top of your head where your headband should be.

Jimin nuzzles his nose into your neck and you purr, your body feeling lax as you lean against his chest. Jimin hums deep in his chest and inhales a lungful of your new scent.

“Mmmmm. You’re a hybrid from the smell of it, kitten…and you smell wonderful.”

“A-A hybrid? But, how? This has to be a dream.”

“That we’re all in and aware of?” Jimin muses and you gulp. He has a point there. Maybe this is more like a nightmare. “Let’s just roll with it for now and we can figure out what the fuck is going on after. Right now no one is trying to kill, attack or fuck anyone, so I’ll take that small victory.”

“What are the guys going to do?”

“What do you think? We’re BTS, the world famous rock band!”

The name rings a small bell deep in your subconscious and slowly, song after song plays in your mind. BTS, Bangtan Sonyeondan. Yes, you remember now. BTS is a band that you work with…no. No, that can’t be right. It doesn’t make sense. Why would BTS work at your company? Your mind is starting to feel hazy, molasses slow as the memories of the pack start to shift into fleeting meetings and longing stares shared through a screen. What are you even doing here by their manager’s side?

The song changes and Namjoon howls. It makes your ears twitch and your eyes focus on the drummer, Jungkook as he starts to move around.

보름달 아래서

허벅지를 꼬집고

참아야 하는 거야 no

옆에 누워있는

살짝 비춰지는

널 어떻게 해야 돼

Taehyung growls the word “wolf” low into the mic and your tail wraps around your waist as Jungkook howls. On the second “wolf” the whole band howls along with the other werewolves in the club. Beside you, Jimin smirks and throws his arm over your shoulder.

“Shall we get a drink? The others will come up when they are done.”

“S-Sure…” You struggle to find your footing as Jimin grabs your hand and pulls you through the mass of bodies with two members of security tagging along. As you walk up the steps to the second floor, you feel the haze of your mind lifting. You shake your head trying to clear the lingering effects of whatever was going on downstairs and Jimin helps you sit at the bar. He keeps a hand on your lower back, just above your tail and tells you to sit forward on the stool, so that your tail isn’t squished. You take his advice and Jimin nods, proud of himself as he sits beside you.

“Water?” Jimin offers and you hum in agreement. Water sounds like the safest choice since you still have no idea what is going on. 

“How long will this-” You motion to your ears and wiggle your tail behind you, “Last? I don’t know if I can take the amount of smells coming at me.”

Jimin coos with a frown and places a hand on your knee, “We’ll figure something out. As a demon, my nose is better attuned to curses and there is magic in the air. It’s faint but there.”

“A curse did this?!” You stare at Jimin in disbelief. “Who would even want to do this?”

“You’d be surprised.” Jimin laughs and runs a hand through his ink black hair. “It has been quite a while since I’ve seen a spell of this caliber. To affect everyone, both human and mystic alike…I hate to say it but I’m impressed.”

“Says the demon that just became the manager of a famous band,” You frown and Jimin chuckles. 

“What can I say? I’m blessed!” 

Jungkook is panting by the time he walks off the stage with the rest of his pack. His hair is plastered to his forehead by sweat and the jacket he had on is now draped over one of his arms. He knows his graphic t-shirt is soaked, he can feel it stick to his chest, abs and back. It’s a gross feeling but the cheering from everyone in the club is worth it. As he heads up the steps that lead to the second floor, Jungkook feels his inner wolf pace around. The animal is uneasy and Jungkook cannot remember why.

Reaching the second floor, Jungkook easily spots Jimin and sees that he is talking to what looks to be a hybrid. Needing a bottle of water, Jungkook makes his way to the bar and the scent of freshly zested limes dusted in cane sugar smacks him in the face. The wolf inside purrs in content and presses at the forefront of his mind. Jungkook’s eyes shift to red and Jimin’s gaze meets his own. The demon grins, his teeth gleaming in the lighten as he licks his lips and says something to the hybrid before him.

The hybrid turns in their seat and piercing hazel cat eyes stare into Jungkook’s very soul. The ears on top of your head twitch and your tail quivers, your chest rumbles with a loud purr and Jungkook is standing in front of you in the blink of an eye. 

“Kitten…wow.” Jungkook’s eyes glance up at your ears and heat creeps up the back of your neck and runs fire hot under your cheeks. 

You duck your head to gather your thoughts, unable to think straight with Jungkook looking right at you but he isn’t having that. Lifting your chin with his index and middle finger, Jungkook growls in warning and narrows his eyes.

“Eyes on me-”

The faintest hint of sweetened milk invades Jungkook’s olfactory and he leans forward, grazing his nose along the pink leather of the choker around your throat. Your breath catches in your throat as Jungkook inhales deeply and you whine, your tail flicking around behind you. 

Jimin slides off his bar stool and disappears into the bodies that are on the second floor. He knows when he isn’t needed. 

A hot dampness, pressed against your neck, the choker in the way, guarding most of the skin as Jungkook samples your new scent gland. You shiver and Jungkook’s inner wolf howls.

“Omega.”

Jungkook’s nose presses against the choker and he inhales again, your scent creating a warmth deep in his stomach that makes all the blood rush to the knot in his pants. 

“A-Alpha?”

The title is a high pitched whine, a mix between a purr and cry. Jungkook growls as your sent spikes, the cane sugar now much sweeter and it makes his mouth water.

“What do you want, Omega?” Jungkook flicks his tongue against your choker and nips at the leather with his teeth. You can feel the warmth of his breath as he breathes against the moist skin. Jungkook hums in question as you remain silent, your scent becoming sweeter and sweeter as the seconds pass. “Tell, Alpha, pretty kitten. Tell Alpha what you want.”

“K-Knot. Want A-Alpha’s knot!”

Jungkook’s wolf claws to the surface, determined to answer his sweet omega’s call as your body trembles in front of him. Jungkook grabs hold of your hand and tugs you towards the restrooms. Kicking the door open to the women, Jungkook shoves you inside and snarls at an older bird hybrid that is coming out of the men’s room. He slams the door shut and clicks the lock in place before unbuttoning and unzipping his pants. 

Your senses are in overdrive, your body feels too hot and you feel a gush of liquid spill from between your legs. You whine at the feeling, not used to the heady scent coming off of Jungkook or the wetness between your legs. 

“I know, ‘mega.” Jungkook huffs with a chuckle as he pulls his dick free from his black Calvin Klein boxer briefs. Keeping his back towards you, Jungkook bites his lip as his groin tingles and he starts to pee on the floor by the door, the liquid seeping under the crack of the door and spilling out into the hallway. Jungkook grumbles as his wolf yips in delight. Now, no one will try to come into the bathroom. He gave them a clear warning that this place is his and soon he will show everyone that the omega is his as well.

“Wolfie!” 

Jungkook tucks himself back into his pants and spins on the heel of his boots. There you are looking like sin. Your chest is heaving, sweat is beaded on your forehead and your hazel cat eyes are blown wide. What a pretty sight, his pretty little kitten. Jungkook walks over to you, his boots landing heavily against the floor before he is standing in front of you. Jungkook’s large hand wraps around your throat and you whimper, widen your legs as he steps closer. You can feel the heat of his body through your clothing, you can feel the stiffness of his dick and it makes your mouth water.

“Messy kitten,” Jungkook coos and licks at the corner of your mouth. You didn’t even realize that you were drooling. You part your lips and turn your head slightly, as best you can with his grip on your throat. You greet his tongue with yours and Jungkook groans at the taste of you. He licks into your mouth, exploring every crevasse as he devores your moans, swallowing them down like a sweet treat. Fingers dig into your hip and you gasp as he pulls you flush against him, his thigh pressing right into your clothed clit. 

Grinding his thigh against you, Jungkook relishes in the soft wet squishing sound your pussy makes as the fabric becomes soaked. The light grey fabric darkens in one spot and Jungkook groans as you nip at his pierced lip with your newly sharpened teeth. 

“Easy, kitten.”

“K-Knot me Alpha! Want your knot!” You beg, your hips starting to jerk against his thick and corded thigh. 

“Make it messy for me, kitten.” Jungkook mummers as he trails his lips up your jaw to the lobe of your ear. “Ruin these pants and I’ll knot your pretty pussy.” Jungkook takes your lobe between his teeth and tugs it lightly. “Can you do that?”

“Y-Yes! Yes, Alpha!” 

You grab at Jungkook’s t-shirt, fisting the material in your hands as you start to grind down on his thigh harder. Jungkook looks down his nose at you, watching you get yourself off with little to nothing but the promise of his knot. The wolf inside is happily wagging its tail and howls. Your scent is maddening, Jungkook wishes he would have told you to ride his face and not his thigh. You start to pant more, soft moans and fevered ‘ah, ah, ahs’ fill the air as you reach closer and closer to your release. 

Jungkook takes pity on you, he reaches between your bodies and presses his thumb right against your clit adding more pressure. Your back bows and you yowl in pleasure as your stomach tightens forcing more liquid to spill from you. Your walls tighten around nothing but that’s okay. The promise of Jungkook’s chock eases the ache and as you shiver from the afterglow of your release, Jungkook removes his thigh and rips your bodysuit right down the middle.

You yelp from sudden display of strength and Jungkook chuckles as your scent grows even sweeter. Grabbing your hips, Jungkook spins you around and pushes your outfit off your shoulders. It gathers at your hips and catches on your tail which makes Jungkook growl as he rips the suit once more. It falls to ribbons at your feet but you don’t care about that. What you care about are the set of red eyes drinking in the baby pink lingerie that does very little to hide your body in the bathroom mirror.

“Fuck…” Jungkook’s hand rakes up your sides and slides forward, cupping your breasts and squeezing them before he licks at the side of your neck. “Look at you, so fucking sexy. So fucking-” Jungkook tweaks your nipples between his fingers and chuckles as your tail swats at his side.

“Fucking perfect for me.” Jungkook pulls the bra down, letting your breasts spill out over the fabric before he slides a hand down the front of your body and teases the apex of your thighs.

“I can smell you from here kitten.” Jungkook slaps your thigh twice and you part your legs, giving him access to your dripping core. Cupping your sex, Jungkook pushes the thong to the side and teases two of his fingers between your lips. You shiver at the warmth and your eyes flutter closed. “Eyes on me!” Jungkook demands with a quick slap to your thigh. 

Opening your eyes, you watch as Jungkook drags his hand from between your legs and lifts it up to eye level. You can see your arousal coating his fingers in a clear fluid that is sticky as he separates his fingers creating a thin spider-like web between them. You watch, mouth dropping open as Jungkook licks his index finger with the flat of his tongue before he sucks his middle finger into his mouth. His eyes never leave yours as he releases his fingers and trails them down the length of your body. It disappears behind you and you can feel Jungkook shifting around before the warmth of his bare thighs grazes your ass and tail.

You lean forward, back arched with your ass poking out, chest nearly spilling into the cool white porcelain of the sink. Biting his lip, Jungkook purrs in approval and grabs your ass in his hands. He squeezes the globes of flesh tightly, his eyes falling to the smooth-looking skin. He glances at your reflection in the mirror to make sure that you are still looking at him. He smirks and delivers a quick slap to your right cheek. You whine at the slight pain, but it makes your walls clench, more of your arousal seeping from between your legs. Jungkook giggles, fucking giggles as he soothes the sore spot with his hand and nibbles on his lip piercing.

“Gonna make sure you’re fucking always full, kitten. Can’t wait to cream this pussy and plug you with my fat knot.”

Before you can even beg, the heat from Jungkook’s cock shuts you up as the tip slides between your folds and kisses your entrance. One single push and Jungkook bottoms out, your walls stretching with a dull pain that makes you whimper in delight.

“Shhhiiiit!” Jungkook groans, his head falling forward as he starts to thrust his hips shallowly. The warmth of your pussy is addicting, the smooth endless glide of your slick is everything and more that Jungkook has ever imagined. Looking at the way your pussy stretches around his cock, Jungkook tightens a hand on your hip; his fingers digging into the flesh as he picks up speed.

Skin on skin, wet and loud. Squashling, squeezing, dripping, and warm, so fucking warm. Jungkook’s eyes zone in on the tail at the small of your back and licks his lips. Running a hand down your spine, he grabs the base of your tail and gives it an experimental tug. Your walls wrap around him in a vice, daring him to move as a full body orgasm is ripped out of you. Your toes curl, your eyes slam shut and you scream, your hazel eyes now a vibrant blue as your canines grow double in size.

“F-fuck!” Jungkook smacks his lips as he continues to fuck into your pussy. “That’s in ‘mega. Make it creamy, baby.” Jungkook’s voice is deeper, more of a hiss as the thin white translucent slick from your pussy circles the base of his dick, covering his half-formed knot.

Jungkook’s eyes shift to red and his words slowly fade away, giving room for more growls and snarls as his wolf takes over. Another wave of pleasure washes over your body. Your back arches and your tail wraps around Jungkook’s wrist as you plead for his knot, begging him to plug your needy hole. 

Slamming into you, Jungkook feels the way your womb opens up to him, the way it craves his seed and that spurs him on. Gripping your hair, Jungkook pulls you upward and groans as your walls pulse around his dick. His teeth ache, feeling too big for his mouth, just the right size for the empty spot over your scent glade.

“Mine!” Jungkook growls as his knot starts to swell to the size of a softball. “Mine…mine!” The round base pushes against your entrance and your legs shake as your pussy is stretched even more to accommodate his size. Licking his lips, Jungkook howls as his knot pops into you with a loud squish and you scream as his teeth sink into the meat of your neck. Wetness sprays from around Jungkook’s knot, your walls squeeze, push and pull, trying to force him out and keep him in. It’s a painful mixture of pleasure that has you seeing stars, and when the hotness of Jungkook’s seed fills your womb, you shiver.

Your neck stings, burns something awful before a cooling numbness spreads and seeps deep into your veins.

Love. 

Want. 

Need. 

Mine. 

Mine. 

Mine. 

Blue eyes meet red ones in the mirror and your inner cat curls into a little ball of soft, soft warmth. Tears blur your vision as Jungkook releases your neck. His tongue is rougher as it licks at the open wound and he shushes you, rubbing his hands up and down your back before he gathers you in his arms as best he can with his knot still locking the two of you together. 

“Shhh, kitten. It’s okay, I got ya. I’m here.” Jungkook tilts your head and licks your tears away, pressing his lips to your cheek and inhaling the scent of you and him. The wound on your neck has closed over, no longer bleeding but it isn’t fully healed. It’s an ugly shade that you know will take some time to go away but you will wear it with pride.

Tears spill over your eyes and Jungkook’s scent changes as he starts to panic. “I’m sorry, fuck! I’m sorry…I didn’t ask!”

You don’t care about that, not really. You have loved Jungkook for so long, and you pray that this isn’t some stick and twisted nightmare. Jungkook always says that he will never date a human because they are too fragile and he cannot always control his wolf. You understood that you had no place beside Jungkook other than as his friend… But now?

“W-What happens now?” You cry, gripping onto Jungkook’s forearm as he holds you up right. “I’m…I’m not a real hybrid-”

“Hey, hey! No, none of that kitten.” Jungkook presses a million kisses to your cheek and hugs you tightly.

“You won’t want me when I change back.”

“I will always want you…” Jungkook drops his forehead to your shoulder and kisses your new mating mark. “I love you.”

“W-what?” 

Hot tears stream down your naked back and Jungkook sniffles.

“I love you. I-I don’t care if this is temporary.” 

Your lower lip wobbles and you shake your head unable to understand. Jungkook loves you…but-

“Jimin and Hoseok will figure it out. They’re demons, this is their shit.”

“And if they can turn me back?” You ponder and Jungkook picks his head to look into your eyes through the mirror.

“It is your call, kitten. I will love you either way. The mating mark will not go away…we can figure it all out.”

Jungkook’s knot starts to deflate and he carefully pulls away from you before he spins you around and tugs you into his arms. His lips are soft as he kisses you breathless. Love, so much love is poured into the kiss and you melt into his body.

“I love you, Jungkook.” You whisper against his lips and Jungkook smiles, his nose scrunching up as he nuzzles against your mating mark.

A knock at the door makes both of you jump and Jungkook growls loudly.

“Are you done yet?” Yoongi’s voice comes from the other side of the door. “The Ward of Magic is here!” He informs you and your eyes widen. The Ward of Magic? They only come when a serious crime has been committed. 

“Do you have my jacket?” Jungkook calls out and Yoongi rolls his eyes.

“Right here, Kookie.”

Jungkook steps away and pulls his shirt off over his head. He eyes your body and looks down at his shirt…Ripping the shirt a few times and making a couple of knots, Jungkook holds out what is now a cute and edgy skirt. You quickly put it on, pull your tail through a rip and keep your back towards the door while Jungkook grabs his jacket from Yoongi.

“For fucksake, Kook! Put your dick away!” The pack alpha scolds and Jungkook slams the door in his face. You giggle upon turning around and seeing that Jungkook’s ears are tinted in embarrassment. 

Jungkook holds out his jacket and you slip your arms into it. Carefully, you remove your shoes and Jungkook snickers as you step out of your destroyed body suit. Shoving your feet back into your shoes, you head into the stall and quickly clean yourself up while Jungkook does the same. 

“Ready?” Jungkook questions, his large boba eyes filled with fierce determination.

“Ready.” 

Hand in hand, you and Jungkook exit the bathroom and Yoongi is waiting against the wall with a small smile on his lips.

“Welcome to the pack, kitten.” He giggles, seeing the mating mark on your neck, and Jungkook licks his lips. He knew that his whole pack would feel it the moment he bit you, but having the pack alpha’s approval makes a weight in his chest lift. Jungkook nudges you to head out first, so that he can speak with Yoongi alone. Yoongi raises an eyebrow and quickly scruffs Jungkook on the neck gently. “Guess you were blessed with a curse huh?”

[harrowreads]

AHHHH OH MY GOD IT'S HEREEEEE!!!

*kicks down the door* HAPPY HALLOWEEEEENNNN 🎃👻🍂😈

i have been so so so so excited waiting to see who has me and i am stoked that it's YOUUUUU!!!! WHAT A JOYOUS DAYYYY!!!!

right off the bat, this is so fucking fun. your formatting, sense of humor -- it's so so good. this fic is overall so tender and funny and sweet and i am over the moon wow wow wow.

spoilers/keyboard smashes under le cut:

i shout-laughed at Yankee Candles and it scared my kitten lmao. he jumped straight into the air.

just shy of his two-hundredth birthday dkhfkhfkfhkfh

SPONGEBOB SQUAREPANTS BAND-AIDS HAHA OMG WE SHARED A BRAINCELL BUT LIKE DAYS (WEEKS?) APART.

cat hybrid jimin is amazing.

“Why, hello, little witch.” 

stop. idk why this has affected me but it has. idk if i am ready for the chaos of these two.

OH MY GOD I CANNOT HANDLE THIS Taehyung is such a ... well, demon 💀💀💀

It feels strange to tuck a demon in for bed

afhakfksfhaks lmaoooo

the fact that the scenes are given titles like an advice column is so clever.

"Is my form too human for you, Yoongi?” 

alklkfnskljaslfjaslkfjaslfkjalsfjasna LMAOOO

Taehyung is giving me such Power vibes, from Chainsaw Man

“You Earthlings are stupid. She gave her name immediately without knowing who we are, and is offering items without a price?” Taehyung leans forward with a dark look in his eyes. “What if she is of the fae? You mustn’t accept gifts nor food and drink from the fae, Yoongi.” 

STOP THIS IS SO FUNNY AFAJSLFASJLFJASLFJALSFJ

DEMONS ARE LIKE ONIONS

i know you wrote this with you heart and brain and interests and ideas but it truly feels like you wrote it FOR ME with my heart and brain and interests and that makes me so fucking giddy.

TELL ME WHAT YOU WANT FOR FREE LIKE THE WATER ALJASFJAKFJASLFJALSFJ,ASNA,FJAWOUA HAHAHAHAHAHAA

this is so playful and softttttt. even for a fic revolving around a sex demon, the smut is so sweet. 🥺🥺🥺

AHHHHHHHHHHHHHHHHHH THE ENDINGGGG. oh, i love this fic. thank you so much, Jai!!!! it was so funny and so sweet and perfect. 😍🥰💜 i adore you so very much!!!!!!

the love witch | kth + myg

Despite being a popular romance blogger, Yoongi isn’t interested in finding love. He only summons a demon boyfriend to prove to his followers that it’s possible. He’ll send Taehyung right back to Hell once he’s done with him, obviously.

↳ pairing: incubus!taehyung x witch!yoongi

↳ rating/genre: BTS | 18+ | strangers to lovers | modern fantasy | (kinda) fake dating | smut | fluff | angst (like, barely there) | an attempt at humor

↳ written for the BTS Fantasy and Fangs Halloween collab for @theharrowing

↳ wc/date: 12.8k | October 2023

↳ warnings: blood, yoongi cuts himself for a ritual, it's hinted that taehyung must perform sexual acts against his will when he's summoned (not by yoongi), alcohol, first kiss, yoongi has a size kink, taehyung's got a Big Dick (what else is new?), very little foreplay, anal fingering, unprotected anal sex, bulging, aftercare, getting high from sex, somewhat open ending but it's happy and hopeful cuz i'm apparently in my feelings??

↳ notes: happy halloween harrow! i hope you enjoy your gift! i had a lot of fun writing it 🥹 initially, i was gonna write something Spooky for you, but then these characters really had a mind of their own lmfaooo you know how that goes 💜 witchy yoongi and incubus taetae really stole my heart. like, the ending?? crazy. didn't even plan it. no idea where it came from. i wrote this in like a crazy fury so if you see any errors, no you didn't 😭

↳ credits: thanks @sailoryooons for the clever banner 💜

↳ masterlist / taglist

↳ what was jai listening to? ride or die - kai

Dear Love Witch, 

My best friend is getting married next month. I feel really insecure about attending her wedding without a plus-one. I broke up with my boyfriend recently, and it seems like everyone is in a relationship except for me. I’m a bit shy, so it’s hard for me to meet new people. How can I find someone in time for her wedding? What should I do? 

Thanks for the help, 

Table For One

Table For One, 

First, let me be clear that there is absolutely NO shame in attending a friend’s wedding – or any event for that matter – without a partner. While companionship is beautiful to share with another, be it through a spouse, covenmate, familiar, or the like, our society places too strong of an emphasis on finding companionship. Remember that you are whole all on your own. 

That said, it’s frustrating to constantly dodge questions about your love life shot at you by well-meaning friends and family. Lest we resort to hexing our too-persistent friends, I have a relatively hassle-free solution to your problem: demon evocation. 

With the correct ingredients, spell pronunciation, and conviction, even the least magically-inclined mortals can conjure the confidence to summon their own demon companion – for a price. 

Merry Part, 

The Love Witch

Continue reading for a complete list of ingredients and a step-by-step tutorial on evocation. Interested in learning more? Follow my blog for updates.

How To Summon A Demon Boyfriend

In the middle of Yoongi’s living room is a large, inverted pentagram drawn in white chalk against the dark hardwood floor. Each of the pentagram’s points holds a lit candle. Most of them are, regrettably, Yankee Candles. The other half are handmade, the products of one of Yoongi and Jimin’s impromptu (non-witch)craft nights. They make Yoongi’s apartment reek of sandalwood, Christmas sugar cookies, and lavender—the conflicting scents cause his head to spin. 

The candle in the middle is Yoongi’s favorite: light pink with a dusting of orange; the fruity, citrus scent is good for a cozy night with a book during a thunderstorm. He doesn't have time to read these days, but he wishes to. 

Surprisingly, Yoongi has never summoned a demon before. It certainly isn’t due to a lack of ability; to say Yoongi is an excellent witch is a humble understatement. Despite being a young witch – just shy of his two-hundredth birthday – there is no doubt that Yoongi can master any magical feat he sets his cunning little mind to. 

Thus, it all comes down to a straightforward explanation. What would Yoongi even need a demon for?

Unlike Table For One, Yoongi feels no shame in being alone. He quite enjoys his solitude. If he had a partner breathing down his neck all the time, he wouldn’t be able to summon a demon for his job, now would he? 

It’s bad enough to have Jimin prowling around every corner like he owns the place. Typical feline behavior, though the familiar has been milking it more than usual these days, in Yoongi’s opinion. Just the other day, the annoying little thing knocked Yoongi’s favorite mug off the kitchen counter. The fact that Yoongi can easily conjure a spell to fix the broken ceramic doesn’t make it any less frustrating to have it broken! 

As for making deals and asking favors, Yoongi is far too dignified and self-sufficient for such an arrangement with a demon. Still, this will be great content for his blog, and he hasn’t gotten such an interesting request for his advice column in a long time. 

Now, all he has to do is put his great mind to work and document the process for his followers and sweet Table For One. 

Salt is next—a ring of it, circling the pentagram. 

Yoongi is careful not to break the salt trail as he kneels on the floor with the rest of his supplies: a small kitchen knife, a Ziploc bag of rose petals, and an old tin box of Spongebob Squarepants Band-Aids he’d found shoved into the corner in the cabinet beneath his bathroom sink. 

The supplies are a bit unconventional, but so is Yoongi, and that’s why his followers adore him—that and the fact that he gives excellent advice. 

Meticulous notes and photos documenting the evocation ritual fill the storage on Yoongi’s cellphone. He’ll edit it all in the morning once he’s gotten everything he needs from the demon. 

Taking a deep breath, Yoongi holds the kitchen knife in his right hand and presses the tip against his left palm, only hard enough to leave a slight indentation but not break the skin. He isn’t queasy, per se, but his heart thuds loudly in his ears as he counts, five… four… three… two…

“Oh, fuck me!” The knife clatters to the floor, spraying salt everywhere when it lands. Yoongi falls back onto his butt, lungs spasming, as he stares at the lithe figure lurking in the doorway to the living room. 

“Don’t mind me,” Jimin purrs with a lick of his lips. “I was just about to leave.”  

Jimin’s bright eyes glow in the room’s dim lighting. The flick of his long black tail gliding like a phantom behind him suggests his curiosity as he takes in Yoongi’s glare. 

Yoongi hadn’t realized Jimin was still home and especially hadn’t expected to see him in his human form. Well, human, if one could ignore the cat ears and tail. 

With a scowl, Yoongi gets on his hands and knees to start brushing the stray grains of salt back into position. “Why do you always do that to me?” 

“Do what?” Jimin’s baby fangs poke his plush bottom lip. 

“Scare the shit outta me.” 

“Hmm,” Jimin doesn’t complete his thought until he’s halfway to the front door, “I’m a black cat; it’s in my nature. But anyway, have fun, hyung! Don’t let your new boyfriend scare you too badly!”

Yoongi scoffs at the sound of the front door clicking shut. Him? Scared? Of a lower-level demon? Jimin is ridiculous. 

Returning to fixing the salt ring, Yoongi brushes aside Jimin’s teasing remarks. He knows they’re part of a mask. Inside, Jimin feels terrible for leaving Yoongi to do the summoning alone. It isn’t Jimin’s fault, though. Thousands of years speak to the uneasy relationship between cats and demons. Until the demon business is taken care of, it’s better if Jimin stays with Namjoon. 

With a long sigh, Yoongi quits fussing over the salt. The circle is good enough; he isn’t concerned. The ritual he has chosen will only summon a lower-level demon, one a witch like Yoongi can easily defend himself against long enough to banish it back to Hell. Yoongi is confident enough that he doesn’t even bother to wear his iron cross. It’ll be fine. 

The kitchen knife’s blade doesn’t hurt when Yoongi presses it into the meaty part of his palm. It slides past his skin easily, sharp enough to slice through the muscle for a good inch or two and then lift up in one clean swoop. Blood immediately trickles from the thin cut. 

Before blood can get all over the floor, Yoongi shoves his hand into the Ziploc bag. He mixes up the rose petals to smear his blood on them. This part hurts; squeezing the petals in his injured hand takes a few slow breaths. 

When the petals are sufficiently bloodied, Yoongi stands over the inverted pentagram and sprinkles the petals evenly within the circle. He’s careful not to drop any into the candles. If he burns down his apartment, that’ll be an entirely different blog article. 

Setting the bloody knife and empty Ziploc bag onto the coffee table, Yoongi fumbles with his phone, pulling up his digital notebook application where he keeps all of his spells. Spellbooks are so twentieth-century, tough to lug around with frail spines and dogeared corners threatening to rip. Phones are much easier. 

“Ah, here we go,” Yoongi mutters to himself when he finds the evocation’s incantations. 

Clearing his throat, he focuses on getting his pronunciation correct. After nearly two hundred years, the roll of his tongue over the ancient language is no longer clumsy. 

Not having Jimin by his side weighs more heavily on Yoongi than anticipated, having grown accustomed to the comforting sensation of their magic merging when he performs high-intensity magic. 

By now, the sun has fallen into the horizon, allowing the night to paint the city black. Yoongi’s living room lights are dimmed, and he considers pausing the evocation to quickly turn them on fully. 

Before he has a chance to, the lights begin to flicker. Yoongi’s voice wavers as he finishes speaking the spell, becoming nearly a whisper by the time he reaches the final word. 

A gust of hot air smacks Yoongi in the face, sending his blonde hair flying like a mane around his head. The middle candle erupts into flames, shooting out deep orange sparks like a fireworks show in the middle of Yoongi’s apartment. It hurts to breathe as thick smoke fills his lungs. Tears stream down his flushed cheeks, but Yoongi keeps his eyes on the fire that doesn’t burn anything it touches. 

From the flames grows a man with beautiful ebony wings, a dark phoenix rising from ember and ash, dressed in tight leather pants and a black tunic. The v-cut of his shirt exposes a warm, toned chest that glows in the firelight. When the flames die down, translucent grey eyes peer at Yoongi through shaggy black bangs.

The demon appraises Yoongi with a lazy stare. His head tilts to the side, and his messy bangs fall like waves in his eyes. Licking his lips, the most sinfully beautiful voice Yoongi has ever heard flows from the creature’s sharp mouth. 

“Why, hello, little witch.” 

Yoongi is of average height for a male witch, actually. Not that it matters. 

At least the evocation ritual worked. 

Yoongi clears his throat, nerves suddenly spiking despite knowing he is more than capable of handling himself right now. 

“My name is Yoongi of the Bang coven,” he offers his name and affiliation with a small bow as what he hopes is a sign of goodwill. Giving away a name establishes trust, though Yoongi has no reason to trust a demon. Perhaps his confidence is evolving into cockiness. 

“Yoongi,” the demon tests out his name in a warm and seductive voice, low enough to vibrate the air around them with a powerful energy Yoongi can feel deep in his bone marrow. The corner of the demon’s mouth twitches while the rest of him is so still that it’s unnerving. 

“While I appreciate the pleasantries, there is a reason why I am here, in this circle, and you there.” 

Long fingers flick an elegant gesture toward where Yoongi stands beside his coffee table. The movement reminds Yoongi that his hand is still bleeding. 

“Ah, yes, well,” Yoongi mumbles as he opens the Band-Aids tin with trembling fingers. Suddenly, the entire situation feels silly, even a bit embarrassing. “You never told me your name.”

The demon grins so widely that he shows all his teeth. They aren’t pointy or disgusting, as the common myths regarding demons claim. Instead, they’re bright white and perfectly aligned, which somehow makes his grin even more uncanny. 

Yoongi doesn’t understand the misconception that demons are ugly. They are fallen angels and the spawn of Satan, the most beautiful angel of them all. Why wouldn’t they be breathtaking, even if it’s unnatural? 

“What will you do for me if I tell you?” 

Ah, and the bargaining begins. 

Yoongi wiggles his toes in his socks and barely thinks before he blurts, “I’ll let you out of the circle.”

The demon’s eyebrows raise until they disappear beneath his shaggy bangs, and Yoongi’s stomach drops. What was it about confidence evolving into cockiness? 

“It’s a deal, Yoongi,” the demon speaks his name like a dirty secret, whispered, and laced with troubling amusement. 

This is for science, Yoongi thinks as he inches his foot out toward the edge of the salt circle. If he’s supposed to show his followers that they can summon a partner to attend events with them, he has to prove that a lower-level demon can survive outside the circle – and that a lower-level demon is easily controlled in case anything goes wrong. 

Yeah, this is for science and not because Yoongi’s brain fills with static when the demon looks into his eyes. 

In hindsight, Yoongi should have made the demon hold up his end of the deal before swiping a break in the circle with his toe. He isn’t thinking clearly and wonders if the demon has done something to his brain when he blinks and reason still doesn’t return to him. 

“Wow,” the demon says with a deep, lethargic exhale. “That was much easier than anticipated. Thank you, Yoongi.” 

“Excuse me?”

“I simply mean that no witch has been so willing.”

The demon’s wings flutter slightly once he steps out of the circle. They’re too large to open fully without knocking furniture over. Yoongi gets the sudden urge to reach out and touch them, but he stamps it down. Nothing would be more inappropriate, he’s sure. 

Eying the demon warily, Yoongi stands his ground as the demon gives him a once-over, clearly sizing him up. Or checking him out; it’s hard to tell with a face like that. 

“Have I made a mistake?” Yoongi asks quietly, fingers still fumbling with the Spongebob Band-Aids but eyes locked on the demon. 

The demon’s silver eyes roam Yoongi’s living room, taking in the mismatched decor, old books, and odd paintings lining the walls. Yoongi’s interest in the gothic never quite meshed well with Jimin’s proclivity for modernization. It’s a disaster, but it’s their disaster. 

“That depends.” The demon smiles with all his teeth. “What is it you need me for, little witch?”

“Love.” Yoongi stares at the demon with widening eyes and throws his hands out in a panic as if to stop him, though the demon hasn’t moved. “I mean, I write about love! I’m the Love Witch! I’m writing a blog. It’s about love. Someone needed help with love.” 

Heat creeps up the back of Yoongi’s neck. The prickling sensation feels worse than the knife he’d used to slice into his palm. 

The demon’s eyebrows arch. “You need me to help you teach others how to make love?” 

“No!” Yoongi drops the Band-Aids tin with a rackety clatter on the floor. He can’t drag his eyes away from the demon long enough to see where the tin lands. 

“Ah, do not worry,” the demon reassures with a quirk to his lips that makes Yoongi’s stomach flip. “It is nothing to be ashamed of. You performed the carnal ritual, did you not? There is no point in lying to me, little Yoongi. I am a sex demon, after all. I believe you mortals use the term incubus, yes?” 

“You’re a, you’re a…” 

Yoongi babbles, but the demon has seemingly lost interest in his inability to speak. The demon wanders out of the living room with his wings tucked close to his body. He leaves light touches on every knickknack he comes across, fingers delicate but curious. At every door, the demon peeks inside the room until he finds the one he must be looking for. 

“Is this where you want me?” the demon asks with a sly grin. He plops onto the edge of Yoongi’s bed and sits back on his palms with his long legs spread. 

With more room to spread out, the demon’s wings flutter slightly and stretch out a bit more. They look soft and inviting, though it could be the steady inviting energy that rolls off the creature. So overwhelmed by the demon’s presence, Yoongi hadn’t noticed the aura until now. 

“How?” Yoongi looks back and forth between his digital spellbook and the literal demon lounging in the most intimate spot in his apartment. “I followed all the instructions and specifically summoned a demon fit for love.” 

The demon fluffs up a pillow to lean back on. “Love, sex, is it not all the same?” 

Yoongi knows it isn’t, even if he has never been in love. 

Sighing, Yoongi resists the urge to call Namjoon for help and pockets his phone. He can handle this on his own; there is no need to bring his covenmate into this, regardless of how knowledgeable he is. Besides, Jimin would worry. 

“You still have yet to tell me your name,” Yoongi says with another deep sigh. This is more complicated than he anticipated. 

“Keeping track of our arrangements? Many forget,” the demon muses. “I am Taehyung.” 

Prosperity– fitting for a demon whose existence is to fulfill the wishes of those who are lacking, Yoongi thinks. For some reason, the name makes his chest tighten. 

“I will not be having sex with you, Taehyung.” Yoongi wishes he didn’t sound so petulant as he makes his intentions clear, as though he’s throwing a fit to hide the truth of his desires – desires he doesn’t have, of course, because he is not interested in the carnal wishes an incubus can grant. 

“No?” Taehyung looks smug and unconvinced. 

“I am merely doing research to see how you behave in the mortal world. You have never visited Earth outside the circle, correct?” 

Taehyung nods as he picks up one of Yoongi’s plushies. It’s his favorite, a tiny Bulbasaur. 

“Most witches summon me for sex magic,” Taehyung explains further. “There is no point in leaving the circle. The power radiates from the pentagram.” 

Yoongi knows nothing about sex magic. It’s dark magic, sinister and difficult to wield. He can only imagine what type of witches have summoned Taehyung in the past and what they’ve made him do. 

And what Taehyung has asked of them in return. 

With a shiver, Yoongi pushes the thought away. He needs to stay focused on the task at hand and figure out what to do with the sex demon in his bed. 

“Alright, well, I have a few deals to make.” Yoongi waits for Taehyung’s attention before continuing. “For the time being, I’m going to place a grounding spell on you so you can’t leave my apartment.” Taehyung scowls at this, but Yoongi ignores him. “Ethically, I can’t have a demon roaming the streets of Seoul unsupervised.” 

Taehyung rolls his eyes. “Fair enough.” 

“I’ll figure out what we need to do in the morning. I’m too tired right now.” 

Demons don’t need to sleep, but Yoongi gives Taehyung a pillow and blanket for the couch anyway. It feels strange to tuck a demon in for bed. It’s a fucked up sleepover that makes Yoongi realize he may not have thought this plan through. He was so focused on if he could summon a demon that he didn’t stop to consider if he truly should. 

“Please don’t try to kill me,” Yoongi asks of the beautiful man curled on the couch. Although he’s confident that he can defend himself against Taehyung, sleeping across the hall from a demon feels dangerous. 

“I am bound to you until you banish me. I cannot kill you,” Taehyung says offhandedly, distracted by one of Yoongi’s battered books in his hands.  His wings wrap around his shoulders like a blanket. 

“Right.” 

Taehyung’s answer is only somewhat reassuring. 

What Not To Do When Taking Your Demon Boyfriend Out To Brunch

Yoongi wakes up alive, so the day's first battle is won. Logic tells him that if Taehyung wanted to hurt him, he would have already done so. Experience makes Yoongi wary of strangers regardless. 

Pulling a thick sweater over his t-shirt and pajama shorts, Yoongi peeks around the corner from his bedroom. Aside from the sound of early morning traffic from outside, the apartment is silent. It’s mornings like this that make Yoongi thankful he can work remotely. He can’t imagine what he would do if he had to go into the office with a demon alone at his apartment. Or worse, bringing the demon with him to work. 

That would be a funny article, Yoongi thinks as he tiptoes down the hallway. “Bring Your Demon Boyfriend To Work Day” – he can see it now. It won’t be an article he’ll write; no, thank you. Table For One can write it after they summon their own demon boyfriend. 

Hell, Yoongi doesn’t even have a demon boyfriend. He has a demon. 

No, no, Taehyung isn’t even his demon. Yoongi’s mind is getting away from him. 

In the living room, Taehyung is curled up in the same position he was when Yoongi went to bed the night before. The only evidence that the demon had moved at all during the night are the small piles of books stacked around him. There’s a stack on the couch cushion beside him, a few on the floor, and more on the coffee table. Some books are ones Yoongi has flipped through the pages thousands of times; others are ones he bought and added to the shelf without a second glance. He means to read them eventually. Like his mind, time seems to get away from him easily. 

“Good morning, Yoongi,” Taehyung greets with quirked lips but doesn’t look up from the book cradled in his large hands. 

It’s a romance novel, one of the raunchier ones Yoongi owns, with a human man embracing his werewolf lover on the front. Gifted to him by Jimin as a joke, Yoongi wonders why he still has it tucked away with the other more scholarly books. Of course, Taehyung would manage to find it. He can likely sniff out smut like a hound in search of fallen game. 

“Is my form too human for you, Yoongi?” 

Yoongi is in the middle of muttering a spell to clean up the dozens of books Taehyung has disturbed. 

“What does that mean?” he asks absentmindedly, focusing on watching the books float into place. 

“This novel, is it an indication that you prefer wolf boys, Yoongi?” Taehyung’s grin is boxy and wide. He tilts his head slightly to the side in a way that would seem innocent if it weren’t for the glint of his teeth and the intensity of his eyes. “Would you wish to perform your sex magic with me if I were a wolf boy? 

Yoongi scoffs, scandalized by the repeated mention of such unnatural magic. “I don’t wish to perform sex magic with you in any form.” 

“Then why am I here?” 

“I already told you!”

Taehyung pouts. 

Ignoring the surge of endearment for the bratty demon that nearly overwhelms Yoongi’s senses, he turns to his phone to check his blog notifications. Nothing is endearing about this situation; Yoongi doesn’t know what’s wrong with him. 

Taehyung leaves the cursed book on the couch and follows Yoongi into the kitchen. The air around Taehyung seems to waver and warp, as though the Earth knows he isn’t meant to be here, uncontained. It reminds Yoongi of heatwaves rippling above the asphalt on a scorching summer day. 

“What are you doing?”

“Checking out what people have to say about you. See,” Yoongi twists so Taehyung can look over his shoulder at his phone. “I posted a photo of you and wrote an article about how to summon a lower-level demon like you.”

“An incubus.” 

“Well, no, just, ugh, just go on to the comments.” 

Taehyung’s eyebrows furrow as he concentrates on using the phone the way he’d seen Yoongi use it, his fingers delicate as they glide across the screen. 

“I look pretty,” Taehyung speaks curiously, not with the smugness he’d carried the day before. 

Yoongi wonders if he’s ever had his photo taken before. There’s amazement in Taehyung’s wide eyes that almost make him appear youthful. Like this, absorbed by his interest in the blog, Taehyung doesn’t look intimidating or devilish. His cheeks round out, and his eyebrows furrow. His pretty lips move silently to mouth the words he reads on the screen. 

“These people have many questions,” Taehyung says at last, handing Yoongi his phone. “They want to know if I work for Satan, if I can go to church, if I can fly – a stupid question, if I can turn red, if I eat people, if I–” 

“Alright, yes, there are a lot of questions.” None that Yoongi has time for, so he tries to shoo Taehyung away. 

His presence is overwhelming the longer he stands at Yoongi’s side. His breath is hot against Yoongi’s profile, and the air is overcome with the smell of smoky incense, cedar, and labdanum, which makes Yoongi’s skin tingle. 

Finally giving Yoongi a reprieve, Taehyung steps away to hop onto the kitchen counter. His legs swing, the back of his boots lightly thudding against the side. 

“Will we answer their questions?” 

“Not all of them,” Yoongi admits with a shrug and a raised eyebrow. He’d been under the assumption that Taehyung would be uninterested in his research. 

Taehyung pouts again. “Why not?” 

Turning his back on Taehyung, Yoongi flings open the refrigerator door to stare at empty white shelves. Grocery shopping hadn’t been high on his to-do list while he prepped for the evocation ritual, and Yoongi has learned the hard way that Jimin is an unreliable roommate when it comes to sharing household responsibilities like grocery shopping and cleaning. 

“I summoned you to help one of my followers, so their needs take priority over whatever foolishness the general public is commenting on.” 

“Lovemaking,” Taehyung snickers. 

“Attendance at an event,” Yoongi corrects with a glare. Letting the refrigerator door close, he spins around to face Taehyung, where he still sits perched on the counter. Wearing the tight leather pants, his legs look impossibly long, and his thighs–

Yoongi’s eyes shoot up to see that Taehyung is staring at him, watching him with a look that isn’t far from predatory. The smug confidence makes Yoongi’s stomach flutter. 

“Can you eat human food?” Table For One never specified if they’re a human, but Yoongi has a hunch they are – or at least something adjacent, like a witch. 

Taehyung shrugs, but that’s enough of an answer. 

With pursed lips, Yoongi eyes Taehyung and does his best not to think about how the demon is doing the same. If a demon attends a wedding, food will surely be involved. It’s worth the research, and not only because Yoongi’s stomach grumbles in the silence of the kitchen, and his refrigerator is embarrassingly empty. 

Mind settled, Yoongi waves for Taehyung to follow him into his bedroom. 

“You need proper clothes, not whatever… costume this is,” Yoongi explains with his head ducked into his closet. With legs like Taehyung’s, none of Yoongi’s tighter pants will fit. “Do you want shorts,” Yoongi holds up the clothing, “or sweats?” 

Taehyung’s nose wrinkles when he scowls, part of his upper lip lifting to show sharpened canines Yoongi hadn’t noticed before. “Shorts, if I must.”

Ignoring the attitude, Yoongi hands Taehyung the shorts and a forest green button-up his mother bought him that’s far too big around the shoulders. 

“You’ll have to get rid of those,” Yoongi gestures to Taehyung’s wings. “Can you glamour them away or something?” 

Taehyung rolls his eyes hard enough that it looks like it hurts. His wings flutter lightly, their iridescent glow catching on the bedroom lights with a bright flash that makes Yoongi’s eyes burn. When Yoongi blinks back tears, the wings are gone. Their absence makes Taehyung look smaller and more human, though his demeanor is nothing short of mystical. 

“Should I get rid of these, too?” 

Taehyung’s nimble fingers comb through his floppy mess of curls. Remembering his height, he bows just enough for Yoongi to see the top of his head where his fingers part his hair to reveal two small horns. 

They’re… cute, small enough for Yoongi to wrap his hand around, and short enough to blend in well with Taehyung’s unruly hair. Intricate etchings that remind Yoongi of fingerprints line the surface, and the horns end in blunt tips. 

Suddenly flustered, though he isn’t sure why, Yoongi manages to choke out, “Oh, um. Yes?”

It shouldn’t be a question; Yoongi can’t have Taehyung walking around with horns sticking out of his head. But something feels intimate about how Taehyung showed off this part of himself, and Yoongi can’t shake the tingling sensation in his fingers from wanting to touch them. 

Taehyung nods obediently, and his hair falls back into place, no horns poking through the mess like black dahlias in bloom. 

It’s going to be a long day. 

A proper brunch with Yoongi includes bottomless mimosa pitchers, but today, he chooses to skip the luxury when the waitress approaches their table to take their orders. It’s at an inconvenient time since Taehyung has finally become chatty. Speaking to him on the subway ride to Yoongi’s favorite brunch spot was like pulling teeth. Yoongi should have anticipated the overstimulation a subway ride would cause a demon with no understanding of Earth beyond a salt circle. 

Pausing his incessant questions, Taehyung takes a long sip of the hot chocolate Yoongi ordered him at the counter before asking the question that’s likely been burning the back of his throat: 

“What is brunch?”

Yoongi forces himself not to laugh. He quickly brings his own drink to his lips, an iced americano nowhere as sweet as Taehyung’s drink, and swallows his laughter with the coffee. 

“The meal between breakfast and lunch. We slept in too late for breakfast, but it isn’t quite lunchtime yet. So, brunch.” 

Eyeing the pair strangely for a second longer, the waitress finally clears her throat. “Hi there, my name is Eunji, and I’ll be your server this morning! I see that you’ve already ordered drinks. Would you like water, as well?”

There’s something about the narrowing of Taehyung’s eyes that makes Yoongi nervous about what he’ll say next. He struggles against the part of him that’s curious and the responsible part that hopes to shut Taehyung up. 

Yoongi may be a strong witch, but he’s a weak man. 

“And what is the price?” Taehyung asks because Yoongi doesn’t interrupt him. 

“Oh, nothing! Water is free, and you can find the other beverage prices on the menu.” The waitress gestures toward the laminated sheet. 

“You are mistaken,” Taehyung speaks lowly. “Nothing is free, Eunji. There is a price for everything.” 

Yoongi chokes on his next sip of coffee and lets the burn in his chest motivate him to finally speak up. He tries to wave away the waitress when she pulls out a few napkins to mop up the little puddle he spilled on the table. 

“Can you give us some time?” he manages to croak, and the waitress gives him a small smile when she leaves. 

Taehyung tuts his tongue against the rough of his mouth disapprovingly. 

“You Earthlings are stupid. She gave her name immediately without knowing who we are, and is offering items without a price?” Taehyung leans forward with a dark look in his eyes. “What if she is of the fae? You mustn’t accept gifts nor food and drink from the fae, Yoongi.” 

Taehyung sits back in his seat with a shake of his head, still in disbelief at the many shortcomings of Earthlings. He looks so human like this, dark eyes scanning the menu of food he knows nothing about, in Yoongi’s clothes that don’t fit his long arms. 

“She isn’t ‘of the fae,’” Yoongi snorts. “You would know if she was.” 

Taehyung watches Yoongi over the rim of his mug as if to silently say, whatever. Stupid Earthlings. Yoongi tries not to smile. 

“Write all this down later. Tell your lovemaking followers not to give out their names so flippantly,” Taehyung demands in between asking Yoongi about various food items on the menu. “And tell them to make their demons hot chocolate. This is more delicious than virgin souls.” 

Yoongi’s fork clatters onto the ground. They’re seated at the cafe’s outdoor patio with many other patrons, so his clumsiness goes unnoticed – aside from the demon across the table who grins at him with too many teeth. Even with the glamour that keeps his eyes a normal dark brown and his face a bit less… sharp, Taehyung still looks dangerous. 

“I can taste your embarrassment,” Taehyung is almost giddy as he speaks. He runs his index finger along the rim of his mug and bites his bottom lip between his teeth. 

The diversion is easy, though Yoongi knows Taehyung doesn’t miss the change in topic. “You can taste emotions?” 

“Mmm,” Taehyung hums and doesn’t explain because the waitress returns to take their orders. 

Yoongi has his phone out with his notebook app open, but he only realizes hours later, when he and Taehyung are sharing space in the living room – Taehyung to read and Yoongi to write – that he forgot to take notes.   

5 Devilish Date Ideas For Your Demon Boyfriend

Yoongi doesn’t take Taehyung out on dates, despite what his articles and social media posts may make it seem. Yoongi and Taehyung go on outings, and there is a definite difference between a date and an outing. Outings don’t have the romantic baggage that comes with a date, which is perfect since Yoongi is not romantically interested in Taehyung. At all. 

Just, maybe, a little endeared. 

“I can’t feel my lips.”

Taehyung’s eyes are glassy and rimmed-red, but he stares at Yoongi with startling clarity. He runs his tongue against his bottom lip, pulling his lip between his teeth and wiggling it back and forth. When he releases it, it’s deep pink and slightly swollen from being teased.

Yoongi forces himself to look Taehyung in the eyes. “What do you mean?”

“I can’t feel them. They’re all tingly,” Taehyung giggles sweetly. Yoongi thinks Taehyung’s laughter is just as dangerous as a siren’s song. 

“You’re just drunk.” 

“Drunk,” Taehyung repeats after he swallows another sip of his amaretto sour. “I like it.”

Taehyung is a demon, a conniving creature from the depths of Hell who would eat Yoongi’s soul without a second thought if given the chance. No amount of eyelash-batting and boxy grins could trick Yoongi into letting his guard down, even when Taehyung swears their souls are bound together until Yoongi banishes him. 

Being bound together is already unnerving enough without the possibility of getting his soul eaten. 

So it doesn’t matter that Yoongi brings Taehyung to an art museum and gets to see the way his eyes sparkle as he gazes upon hundreds of art pieces. The tug Yoongi feels in his gut when Taehyung lights up at a name he recognizes doesn’t mean anything. When Taehyung dives into a slew of stories about the artists whose souls he’s met in Hell and expresses how ecstatic he is to see what all the fuss has been over them finally, Yoongi ignores his heart palpitations. 

Taking Taehyung shopping is a trivial experience as well. The little twinge of discomfort when Yoongi buys Taehyung his own clothes rather than have Taehyung continue wearing Yoongi’s isn’t disappointment or, even worse, weirdly placed jealousy. It’s only clothes. There certainly isn’t some strange possessiveness that digs its claws into Yoongi’s heart when Taehyung wears his t-shirts and sweatpants to bed. 

And the fancy dinner? Whatever flutter Yoongi felt when he dressed Taehyung in a fitted suit and took him to the nicest restaurant in Seoul, well, that was probably indigestion. 

Each outing is research. The more outings Yoongi goes on with Taehyung, the better prepared his followers will be when they summon their own demons. It’s as simple as that.

“I’ll admit, I’m shocked the alcohol has any effect on you.” 

A paint-and-sip outing wasn’t Yoongi’s idea. Taehyung insisted on letting their followers (because apparently they’re Taehyung’s followers, too) choose the next activity. Considering Taehyung’s affinity for the arts, a painting class fit perfectly. 

Yoongi is just here for the alcohol. 

He takes sips of his red wine more often than he lifts his paintbrush. The painting the class is working on shouldn’t be as difficult as it is: a simple sunset over the ocean. Taehyung has never even seen the ocean before, and somehow his painting looks better than the instructor’s. 

“You assume too much,” Taehyung scolds Yoongi with a point of his red paint-dipped brush. A small glob of paint drips from the tip and falls onto the apron Taehyung wears to protect his clothes. “We demons aren’t all the same, you know. We are like onions.” 

With a groan, Yoongi reaches out to press his palm against Taehyung’s cheek and tries to force his face away and back on the easel in front of him. 

“Whoever voted for Shrek on the movie poll should be banned from my blog,” Yoongi grumbles. 

“Let’s do another poll.” Taehyung reaches for Yoongi’s phone and nearly knocks his glass over. “Ask the lovemaking followers about, um, something fun.” 

“No.” 

“Yoongi, I am commanding you to do another poll. I want ice cream.” 

“That’s not how this arrangement works. I do the commanding.” 

It’s only a little menacing how Taehyung stabs his paintbrush into the water cup to clean the bristles. He glares at Yoongi while he swirls the brush around, stabbing the bottom of the cup a few more times for good measure. 

“What would you like me to do for you then, Yoongi?” Taehyung purrs as he leans forward in his seat. His tongue has found his bottom lip once again, and Yoongi struggles to keep his eyes away from the wet movement. 

“Stop being so difficult.” 

It’s a tease, not something to bargain for seriously. They both know this, but Taehyung’s grin makes Yoongi’s skin crawl. 

“I can be good for you, little witch.” Taehyung’s bloodshot eyes glide over Yoongi, lazy but with a hunger in them that Yoongi hasn’t seen before. “For a price.” 

Desire is unfamiliar to Yoongi, a man who prefers his virtual spell notebook over the company of lovers. He almost doesn’t realize that’s what burns in the pit of his stomach; it’s so easy to assume that the heat results from drinking too much wine. 

So far, Yoongi’s payments have been inconsequential. In return for participating in his “research,” Yoongi buys Taehyung gifts or takes him to do activities only available on Earth. It’s been intriguing to see what silly little deals Taehyung comes up with. Taehyung had been right about Yoongi being too quick to make assumptions. He would have never guessed Taehyung’s requests would end up being so… innocent. 

However, right now, Yoongi is questioning everything. 

The instructor saves Yoongi from scrambling for a response by announcing the session's conclusion. She walks the class through cleaning up their painting stations, rinsing out paintbrushes, and putting away their easels. 

Yoongi’s painting is only half-finished, but this outing has been for Taehyung anyway. The painting will probably end up in the bottom of a closet somewhere with the futile thought that one day Yoongi will try finishing it. 

“Come on,” Yoongi tugs on Taehyung’s ear to beckon him out of his seat. He’s not sure at what point in the past few weeks he’d become comfortable with touching Taehyung. 

“I’m drunk,” Taehyung repeats with a giggle, having dropped the menacing facade. “This is fun, but I think I’m broken.” 

Throwing his arms in the air, Taehyung stretches with a loud groan that makes multiple paint-and-sip participants whip their heads in his direction as they shuffle out of the building. He reminds Yoongi of Jimin on a particularly sleepy day, and Yoongi almost tells Taehyung as much, but something behind Taehyung catches his eye. 

“Taehyung!” Yoongi hisses, grabbing a fistful of Taehyung’s shirt and quickly dragging him out of the community art complex’s front doors. 

Taehyung fumbles over his own feet, leather boots splashing rain puddles once Yoongi has pulled him into the misty night. Alcohol looks good on him. His tan skin turns ruddy around his cheeks, and his lips are still swollen and poutier than normal. It seems wrong for a creature capable of such evil to look so soft. 

Before anyone can see them, Yoongi backs Taehyung into the narrow alley beside the complex. Dark and damp, no one spares them a glance as they disappear into the shadows. 

“What’s wrong?” Taehyung’s expression twists into something just as dark as the shadows that engulf them. “Whoever it is, I’ll kill them.” 

“What?” Yoongi’s eyes widen. “Fuck, no, we’re not killing anyone.” 

Taehyung’s shoulders sag with what Yoongi hopes is relief and not disappointment. “Who are we hiding from? You must know I can protect you, Yoongi. We are bound toge–” 

“Yes, bound together; if I die, you die, I know. We aren’t hiding from anyone; I’m hiding you. Your wings…” 

It’s rude, Yoongi’s sure of it. He doesn’t know much about the customs of demons, but he can’t imagine it’s anything but rude to touch someone’s wings without their consent. It seems intimate, much like Jimin hating when someone tugs on his tail or touches his ears without asking. 

Yoongi knows he shouldn’t do it, but the desire to run his fingers over the soft feathers is so strong that he burns with it. 

His eyes stay on his hand as he reaches out. Dragging his fingertips along the quilted layers, he lets out a quiet sigh when he finds that the feathers are just as soft and airy as he’d expected. They ripple and flutter beneath his touch as Taehyung shivers, the moisture in the air making the black glitter in the streetlights. Yoongi follows the curve until he gets to the tip, his fingers lingering on the edge. 

The whooshing sound of Taehyung inhaling sharply forces Yoongi out of his stupor. His eyes snap to Taehyung’s face as he snatches his hand back. 

“T-they,” Yoongi clears his throat and straightens his posture, “The alcohol likely made you lose control of the glamour.” 

Taehyung’s eyes are glazed over. When he looks at Yoongi, he looks through him with slow blinks and nothing behind his eyes. 

“Taehyung?” 

“You shouldn’t do that,” Taehyung whispers, his words quiet enough that they’re nearly swept away by the gust of wind that sends fallen leaves skittering across the sidewalk. 

Swallowing, Yoongi gives him a curt nod. 

Shame swirls in the pit of his stomach as he guides Taehyung on the short walk home. A spell of his own works to disguise Taehyung’s demon characteristics. Seoul is diverse in the species that reside there, but demons aren’t welcome in many spaces. 

Taehyung lets Yoongi guide him home by holding his wrist in silence. It’s far too quiet in his apartment, Yoongi now having grown used to Taehyung’s constant questions about Earth and his flirtatious bantering at all hours. Living with a demon should have been more difficult to get accustomed to, but everything with Taehyung feels easy. 

Except for tonight. 

Changed into his pajamas, Taehyung leans against the kitchen counter with a glass of water clutched in both hands. He sips on it periodically, a faraway look in his eyes while he stares at the opposite corner of the room. The glamour magic has long worn off, though Taehyung keeps his wings tucked close to his body, and his horns are naturally hidden away like usual. 

Yoongi shifts his weight from one foot to the other and can’t take his eyes off Taehyung’s empty expression. 

“Taehyung?” he blurts, anxiety building in him like a pop rocket.

A raised eyebrow is Taehyung’s only response, but Yoongi will take it. 

“I’m sorry I upset you. I should have asked first. No, I shouldn’t have done anything at all. I know the other witches who have summoned you may have felt entitled, but I would never do anything that–” 

Cut off by the press of Taehyung’s finger against his lips, Yoongi freezes. He watches Taehyung with a stuttering heart as the incubus traces the bow of Yoongi’s upper lip with the tip of his finger. 

“You did not upset me, witchling.” 

Taehyung’s voice is smooth and hypnotizing, the cadence a lullaby that’s everything terrifying about a monster who preys on its victims in their sleep. It’s gentle but sharp and precise in how it slices into Yoongi, filleting him until his most vulnerable parts are exposed. 

His finger drags down on Yoongi’s bottom lip, pulling it until his mouth parts slightly. 

“Okay,” Yoongi can barely breathe. His eyes flit between Taehyung’s dark irises and his pink lips, both terrifyingly inviting. 

Yoongi is an intelligent witch, but he’s a stupid man. 

Taehyung’s fingers curl around Yoongi’s chin. His hold is loose, the tilt a mere suggestion that Yoongi follows as he lifts his face. 

“Don’t,” Taehyung warns when Yoongi twists his fingers into the front of Taehyung’s shirt. Their noses brush against each other, and Yoongi can practically taste Taehyung from how close their lips are. The warning is easy to ignore when Taehyung lets go of Yoongi’s chin to cup the side of his face. 

“Don’t,” Taehyung repeats, and Yoongi feels the word against his lips. 

Static fills Yoongi’s head with fuzz and the crackle of hot desire. His eyes flutter close, lightheaded from breathing in Taehyung’s smokey scent. 

“Why not?” 

They’re so close. All it would take is the tilt of their heads to slot their lips together. Yoongi wants, more than he can ever remember wanting. He feels tightly wound, pressurized, a spring waiting to snap. 

“You’ll be mine.” 

Yoongi’s blood turns to ice. His eyes fly open when Taehyung pries his fingers from his shirt and gives him a small, closed-mouth smile. 

The Kiss of Death. 

How could Yoongi have forgotten what it means to kiss an incubus? The colloquial term is misleading, though surrendering one’s soul to a demon may as well be a form of death to those who wish to live on their own accord.

The eyes may be the windows to the soul, but incubi use a kiss to capture their victims, tethering them to the incubus as their personal energy source for eternity. The Kiss is rare; Yoongi doesn’t know anyone who has succumbed to such horrible seduction.

“Goodnight, witchling,” Taehyung murmurs and gently flicks the underside of Yoongi’s chin with his finger. He leaves Yoongi alone in the kitchen, the crackle of desire still wavering in the air and uncertainty stirring in his stomach. 

That night, Yoongi dreams of a voice whispering a one-word promise he knows he shouldn’t make. 

Mine. 

Nervous About Introducing Your Demon Boyfriend To Your Friends? Try One Of These Calming Potions

“What are you doing?” 

Taehyung hovers in the doorway of Yoongi’s office, his long fingers curling around the doorframe. Although Yoongi can’t sense emotions like an incubus can, the curiosity flowing from Taehyung is unmistakable. 

“Making a potion,” Yoongi replies, beckoning Taehyung into the room with a wave of his hand. “What are you, a vampire? If you’d like to watch, you may.” 

Looking particularly human today, Taehyung wears straight-leg jeans, a soft cotton t-shirt underneath a burgundy cardigan, and white sneakers that Yoongi smiles at when he realizes are his. Nevermind the fact that Taehyung is walking around the house with shoes on. In Taehyung’s defense, Yoongi had told him that they would only stop by the apartment for something briefly, but their stay has been anything but quick. 

The potion is technically finished. Yoongi swirls it around in an insulated tumbler to mix up a couple of drops of another elixir he’d forgotten to add to this new batch. Handing the tumbler to Taehyung, Yoongi finishes putting away his Tupperware containers of random ingredients in the mini-fridge in his office and tucks his mother’s old recipe book into yet another overcrowded bookshelf. 

Taehyung sniffs the lid of the tumbler and sneezes, the sound echoing loudly through the room. “What is it?” 

“Uhh,” Yoongi takes the potion from Taehyung and sips it as he leads the way to the front door. It’s been, what, a month since he summoned Taehyung? And the questions still come. “Just a potion for nerves.” 

A sly grin stretches across Taehyung’s face like Yoongi knew it would. With his free hand, he shoves Taehyung out of the door. 

“Are you nervous, little Yoongi?” Taehyung asks as if he can’t already tell. 

“Stop calling me little.” 

Taehyung drapes his arm around Yoongi’s shoulders while they wait for the elevator. The taxi Yoongi ordered is already waiting to take them to Namjoon’s house on the outskirts of town. 

“Ah, but you enjoy it,” Taehyung’s breath tickles the curve of Yoongi’s ear when he ducks down to speak against it. “I can smell it.” 

With a shiver, Yoongi steps away from Taehyung’s looming figure and maintains as much distance as possible between them on the elevator ride. Ever since the paint-and-sip night, things have changed between them. The flirtation hasn’t necessarily increased, but it feels weightier now, perhaps because Yoongi is more keenly aware of how easy it would be to become Taehyung’s prey. 

Before that night, his reservations about working with Taehyung had been about a possible attack. Now, he realizes there are more dangerous ways for Taehyung to endanger him than physically fighting him. 

“I’m not nervous,” Yoongi says as he takes a swig of the potion he’d specifically made because he’s nervous. “I’m just… worried.” 

Taehyung handles himself well during the taxi ride despite his disdain for being inside vehicles. His fidgeting is minimal, and he doesn’t make any suggestive comments to the driver. Although Yoongi knew being on Earth would be an adjustment, he’s surprised by the pride he feels swelling in his chest when Taehyung experiences little improvements like this. 

“I will not kill your friends if that is what you are concerned about.” 

The taxi driver coughs. Yoongi sees him reach over to increase the volume of the classical music he’s listening to. 

“Jimin isn’t particularly… fond of, of, well…” Yoongi raises his eyebrows at Taehyung to silently communicate what he's trying to get at. 

Taehyung hums in understanding. The blank expression he wears for the rest of the ride only makes Yoongi more concerned. Has he hurt Taehyung’s feelings? Why would Taehyung care about Jimin’s opinion of him anyway? 

Yoongi chugs the rest of the tumbler when they’re at Namjoon’s front door and hopes the potion’s effects kick in soon. He’s already starting to sweat in his button-up and regrets not dressing casually like Taehyung. The stereotypical witchy vibes have always been appealing to Yoongi. Slacks, pointy boots, large hats, clothing covered in tassels, and too many necklaces to count will likely be his aesthetic long after the dark academia and cottagecore trends are out of style. 

“Hyung!” The door flies open to reveal Namjoon sporting his usual hoodie and sweatpants combo. 

The epitome of comfort, the leader of the Bang coven steps to the side to let Yoongi and Taehyung through. Yoongi doesn’t miss the way Namjoon sizes Taehyung up, his gaze soft but intense even while holding a relaxed composure. 

“Hi, Joonie,” Yoongi greets with a small smile and an elbow to the arm. Hugs are a bit much, but the covenmates know how Yoongi is. “This is Taehyung. My, um, the demon helping me with my current work project.” 

Taehyung bows his head and uses jondaemal as Yoongi taught him when he says, “It is a pleasure to meet you, Namjoon-ssi.” 

“Welcome! And drop the formality; this is a relaxed space.” 

To Yoongi’s surprise, Taehyung eases into conversation with Namjoon with little difficulty as he leads them to the living room, where Hoseok and Jimin sit on the floor at the coffee table playing matgo.

This is the part that has Yoongi’s stomach twisted into knots despite his calming potion. As an excellent potionmaster, it’s discouraging to still struggle with his nerves. His eyes slide from Taehyung’s animated face as he talks about the various art pieces on Namjoon’s walls to Jimin’s rigid posture. 

“And this is Hoseok hyung and Jimin,” Namjoon gestures to the pair as he walks toward the mini bar in the corner of the room. “Would you like a drink?” 

“Joonie, it’s three in the afternoon,” Hoseok throws his head back in a laugh that’s too energetic for the situation, but that’s just Hoseok’s way. He lights up a room in the same way Taehyung makes one heavy. 

“Ah, don’t partake then.” Namjoon waves off Hoseok’s teasing criticism. 

With a roll of his eyes, Hoseok turns to where Taehyung and Yoongi now sit on the couch opposite the coffee table. “It’s nice to meet you, Taehyung. Our Yoongi hyung has been talking about you nonstop.” 

Far too smug for his own good, Taehyung twists in his seat to look at Yoongi. “Is that so?” 

“Mmm, it’s rather annoying,” Jimin’s sweet voice chimes in. He adjusts his position at the coffee table so he can look at all three men. “You are even more handsome than he described.” 

“I never said–” 

Hoseok’s giggling interrupts Yoongi’s protests. “Yes, you did.” 

“Jimin-ah, I can’t take it anymore,” Jimin deepens his voice to mimic Yoongi’s. Yoongi doesn’t appreciate how whiny Jimin makes him sound. “He’s so hot! It’s overwhelming! I can’t think straight around him!” 

Yoongi digs his fingers into his thighs and squares his shoulders. He can practically feel Taehyung vibrating with pleasure beside him. 

“You think I’m hot, little Yoongi?” Taehyung’s voice wraps around Yoongi like a weighted blanket. 

“Little Yoongi! He lets you call him that?” Hoseok throws his head back so far that he tips over. Namjoon has to step over his body sprawled out on the floor to reach the armchair beside the couch. 

“No!” Yoongi finds himself pouting out of desperation, but his puppy eyes go unnoticed. 

His friends’ teasing is relentless, and Taehyung feeds into it too willingly. Namjoon ensures drinks flow amongst the five of them, even Hoseok eventually caving to have a shot or two of peach soju. With dazzling smiles and quick wit, Taehyung manages to charm even the intimidatingly skeptical Jimin. 

All Yoongi can do is sit back and watch the scene unfold. That swell of pride returns, and he stares at Taehyung’s side profile far too many times. There’s something about the shine in his eyes that lights up when he laughs and the way his cheeks puff up when he smiles – genuinely smiles, not just grins with his teeth in the predatory way he does. 

Jimin is right; Yoongi can’t think straight around Taehyung. He’s positive he’s never admitted that out loud, but perhaps his feelings are more obvious than he thought. 

Because, yes, the feelings are there. 

As the night progresses, Yoongi is forced to acknowledge and sit with those feelings. It’s too comforting sitting at Taehyung’s side. It’s too natural how Yoongi leans into Taehyung’s side when he slips his arm behind him to rest his hand on Yoongi’s waist. 

It’s too easy to watch Taehyung’s lips shape Yoongi’s name and want to kiss them until Taehyung swallows him whole. 

“Yoongi thought I would kill you all.” 

Taehyung’s confession pulls Yoongi out of another embarrassing episode of staring at Taehyung’s pretty eyes. Yoongi scowls and reaches for his glass of whiskey. 

“That’s a blatant lie. I never said such a thing.” 

“You were thinking it,” Taehyung challenges. “I could sense your nerves.”

With an exasperated sigh, Yoongi turns to his friends for help, and all he finds are amused expressions. 

“You know what I’m doing!” he whines too much like Jimin’s impersonation. “I wanted to see how he handled being in a social setting. To advise my follower about bringing a demon to a wedding.” 

It makes sense in his head, but it sounds like a reach when he says it out loud. It’s the truth, though, and Yoongi isn’t interested in exploring what his nerves mean any more than this. 

“I am good,” Taehyung asserts with a petulant cross of his arms against his chest. The action accentuates the muscles of his biceps and the plumpness of his chest. 

Yoongi has to force himself to look away and pretend Jimin can’t feel the thrum of energy flowing between them. Taehyung feels it, too. Part of Yoongi hates that his feelings aren’t his own, but another part hopes his energy can speak on his behalf. 

“You are,” Yoongi says quietly and means it. A blush spreads across his cheeks when Taehyung squeezes his waist in response. 

Not for the first time since meeting Taehyung, Yoongi wonders how he’ll survive the night with him. 

Demon Sex: Frequently Asked Questions

Taehyung doesn’t get drunk at Namjoon’s house, much to Yoongi’s relief. It isn’t that he’s concerned about Taehyung’s glamour failing him; if his friends were to see Taehyung’s horns and wings, they would be ecstatic. Taehyung is truly a beautiful creature in that form. What his true form looks like is a mystery to Yoongi, and something tells him that he’ll likely never see it, but that’s fine by him. Taehyung’s comfort is what matters. 

Yoongi is glad that Taehyung is sober when they leave Namjoon’s house late into the night because it means that Taehyung’s decision to sit flush against Yoongi in the back of the taxi and run his palm up the length of Yoongi’s thigh isn’t because he’s drunk.

His breath is warm against Yoongi’s already feverish skin when he leans down to speak low enough for the taxi driver not to hear. 

“I know you’re aroused, little witch. Have been ever since Jimin brought up your interest in me.” 

Yoongi bites his lip and keeps his eyes locked on the landscape blurring through the window. It’s drizzling again, and the raindrops distort Yoongi’s reflection. 

Taehyung’s fingertips press into the meat of Yoongi’s thigh. The touches are hardly anything exciting, but Yoongi’s already growing hard. Whipping his head to the side, Yoongi frowns at Taehyung’s hungry eyes.

“Are you doing this to me?” 

“What?” 

“Are you making me like you? With your powers?” 

It’s a valid question. The likelihood of Taehyung influencing Yoongi’s desire is very high, almost to the point that Yoongi would be shocked if he wasn’t. But the crushed look on Taehyung’s face drags Yoongi’s heart to the ground. 

“Why would you think I would do that?” Taehyung bites down on his molars and takes a moment to breathe deeply. “Our bond prevents me from using magic like that on you.” 

“Oh.” 

Taehyung removes his hand from Yoongi’s thigh. The lost contact makes Yoongi shiver, suddenly so much colder and… empty. 

Similarly to the night he touched Taehyung’s wings, Yoongi’s stomach is a mess of shame and nerves throughout their ride. The emotions likely suffocate Taehyung; Yoongi is convinced he doesn’t see him breathe the rest of the way home. 

Determined not to repeat the mistakes of that night, Yoongi doesn’t hide in his bedroom to sleep off the guilt and shame like he did before once they return to his apartment. Instead, he locks the front door and catches Taehyung’s wrist to keep him close. 

“I’m sorry,” he says with as much emotion as possible, “I shouldn’t have made such a prejudiced assumption about you solely based on your species.” 

Taehyung nods, his eyes roaming Yoongi’s face. Yoongi wonders what he sees there and if it even matters when Taehyung can sense the shame radiating from his soul. 

“I am not influencing your feelings or thoughts,” Taehyung speaks quietly, like he’s afraid of scaring Yoongi away. “And I am not pursuing you to feed, as I believe you are also wondering about that.” 

Yoongi blushes and lets his head fall. Chin pressing against his chest, he doesn’t dare look at Taehyung any longer. It’s embarrassing to be called out for such a terrible thought. Taehyung has been kind and respectful, even with his blatant flirting. Living with and getting to know Taehyung has changed everything Yoongi thought he knew about incubi. 

So why is he still judging Taehyung? 

“How have you been surviving?” Yoongi asks suddenly, even more shame wrecking his stomach when he realizes he hasn’t considered how long Taehyung can go without feeding from sexual energy. Human food can’t possibly be enough for a demon to live off of. 

A mischievous grin blooms on Taehyung’s face, and Yoongi’s stomach becomes a different kind of mess. 

“I can feed even if I am not engaging with the source,” Taehyung explains slowly. He presses his fingers underneath Yoongi’s chin to lift his head. “It is difficult not to notice how aroused you become at night. I could slip into your dreams to learn what you’re thinking about, but I never do.”

Yoongi wishes the ground would open and swallow him into it. 

Licking his lips, Taehyung pinches Yoongi’s chin between his fingers as he did when they nearly kissed in the kitchen. 

“What do you think about at night when your body hums with desire, my sweet witchling?” 

Taehyung claims he doesn’t influence Yoongi, but every shift of Taehyung’s body, his heat, his scent, the deepness of his eyes as he looks at Yoongi with such shameless longing – it’s impossible for Yoongi to resist, magic or not. 

“You,” the truth tumbles from Yoongi’s lips. 

This time, when Yoongi grabs the front of Taehyung’s shirt, he doesn’t stop him. Instead, Taehyung steps forward, backing Yoongi up until his back hits the front door. He dips his head down to bump their noses together with a grin made of excitement rather than mischief. 

“No kissing,” Taehyung commands, even as his lips brush against Yoongi’s. “Okay?” 

“Yes, okay.” 

Yoongi’s eyes flutter shut when he feels Taehyung’s lips latch onto the corner of his jaw. He sucks the skin hard enough to bruise, then inches his way down the length of Yoongi’s neck. The fingers at his chin tilt his head so Taehyung can gain more access to smooth, unblemished skin. 

“Tell me what you want,” Taehyung murmurs into the crook of Yoongi’s neck. The sensation tickles and Yoongi quickly reaches up to tangle his fingers in Taehyung’s hair. 

“I…” 

“For free.” Taehyung shifts his weight to slot his leg in between Yoongi’s and grinds his thigh against Yoongi’s hardening cock. “Like the water.” 

Pressing his hand to his mouth, Yoongi does his best to stop himself from audibly laughing. The bob of his shoulders throws Taehyung off, though, and he lifts his head to look at Yoongi with confusion. 

When Taehyung tilts his head, Yoongi’s fingertips brush against the base of one of his horns. It’s surprisingly warm, and the ribbed etchings feel nice. Curious, Yoongi drags his nails down the ridges. 

The whimpered moan Taehyung makes goes straight to Yoongi’s cock. 

“Fuck,” he groans and gently bites down on Yoongi’s shoulder. “Tell me, Yoongi.” 

Taehyung can’t give Yoongi anything for free, but this isn’t the time to think things through. 

“Fuck me, please.” Yoongi isn’t one to beg, but Taehyung doesn’t make him feel like he’s begging when he asks what Yoongi wants. Instead, Yoongi feels like he’s being given a gift. 

It’s clear from how responsive Taehyung is that this isn’t solely for his pleasure. His attention never leaves Yoongi, somehow managing to flick his tongue against every sensitive spot and nibble just hard enough to make his knees shake. 

“Yes,” Taehyung moans when Yoongi drags his nails down his other horn. Bending slightly, Taehyung squeezes the backs of Yoongi’s thighs and hoists him around his waist. 

The casual display of strength makes Yoongi’s head spin, and he hardly keeps himself together when Taehyung throws him onto his bed. All he can do is stare as Taehyung makes quick work of removing his clothes, wasting no time to get fully naked. There’s so much tan skin on display that Yoongi drowns in it. His chest tightens as he soaks in the sight of Taehyung’s massive form, such wide shoulders displaying his hauntingly beautiful wings and his heavy cock hanging between his legs. 

Yoongi supposes being an incubus makes Taehyung accustomed to nudity; there is no room for timidness in sex magic. He wishes he could say the same about himself. 

“Let me see you,” Taehyung asks as he runs a hand down his chest, letting out a quiet moan when his fingers brush against one of his nipples. 

Yoongi wants to follow the path Taehyung’s hand takes with his tongue. Perhaps later, if he builds up the courage. It takes too long for him to remove each layer of clothing, all the while watching Taehyung pump his cock with slow, loose movements. 

Taehyung reaches out to squeeze Yoongi’s naked waist. Like he did to himself, he feels up Yoongi’s chest, this time intentionally tweaking one of Yoongi’s perky nipples and grinning when Yoongi tips his head back with a small whimper. 

“You’re so pretty, Yoongi. So tiny.” 

Taehyung kneels on the bed and grips Yoongi’s face by his jaw. It’s an aggressive action, but Taehyung’s hold is gentle. 

“I wish I could kiss you,” Yoongi blurts when it seems Taehyung might just do it. But Taehyung’s lips fall on Yoongi’s forehead instead. 

“I know,” Taehyung whispers before letting Yoongi go. He leans back and eyes Yoongi’s body for a moment, so pliant and spread out for him on a bed of silky sheets. 

“Get on your knees,” Taehyung commands lowly. His large hands squeeze Yoongi’s hips as he adjusts his placement so that Yoongi is facing the wall up against the bed frame. 

“Hold on, my little witch,” he hooks his chin on Yoongi’s shoulder as he runs his hands down both arms. Grabbing Yoongi’s hands, he curls his fingers around the edge of the bed frame. “May I use some magic on you, little one?” 

Yoongi shivers at the pet name, so easily reminded of how Taehyung looms over him. He doesn’t care what that magic may be, merely nods because he realizes he truly trusts Taehyung. 

Taehyung murmurs something in Hell’s ancient language, and Yoongi immediately gasps at the cool feeling that spreads between his asscheeks. It’s wet and tingly, and Yoongi sags against the bed frame with the side of his face pressed against the wall when his legs turn to jelly. 

“Usually, I enjoy foreplay, but I am impatient tonight.” Without warning, Taehyung plunges two fingers into Yoongi’s hole. 

“Oh god,” Yoongi moans and arches his back to sink further onto Taehyung’s long fingers. 

“Not God,” Taehyung presses a grin against Yoongi’s shoulder. “The opposite, actually.” 

Taehyung is relentless as he fucks his fingers into Yoongi, quickly turning from two to four because his magic has made Yoongi wet and stretched with no effort at all. It’s messy, but it seems that Taehyung likes it from how hard his cock is pressed between Yoongi’s thighs. 

“Please,” Yoongi asks again when he’s afraid he might cum from Taehyung’s fingers alone. “I’ll give you anything, Tae.” 

Taehyung licks a fat stripe up Yoongi’s neck, starting at his shoulder until he can flick the tip of his tongue against his earlobe. “Just this, little one. This is all I need.” 

As thick as Taehyung’s cock is, the slide is easy as he slowly presses forward past Yoongi’s rim. Once he’s fully inside, he holds Yoongi steady with one hand on his hip and the other pressed against his abdomen. The first roll of his hips makes Yoongi shout, and his legs tremble so severely that he nearly buckles. 

“Tae, Tae, fuck, Tae,” Yoongi pants with his head hanging low as Taehyung rolls his hips a second and third time. “You’re so big.” 

“Shh, it’s okay. You’re doing so good.” 

Taehyung presses his fingers into Yoongi’s lower abdomen, and they both moan when they feel Taehyung’s cock move inside of him. It takes a few minutes before Yoongi is ready for more. Taehyung eases him into it, pulling back to gently thrust into him without jostling Yoongi’s body too much. 

When Yoongi’s gasps start turning into moans, Taehyung picks up the pace. He thrusts harder, angling his hips until he finds Yoongi’s prostate. It’s effortless, probably because Taehyung was made for this. He fucks into Yoongi with such accurate precision, hitting his prostate with every thrust. 

Yoongi’s head lolls as his body snaps forward. The bed frame slams into the wall, banging Yoongi’s knuckles, but he can’t bring himself to care. Taehyung has to grab his arms and pull Yoongi up against his chest to keep him from hurting himself. 

They lace their fingers together, and Taehyung keeps their hands pressed to Yoongi’s hips. The new angle forces Taehyung’s cock even deeper. 

“You taste divine,” Taehyung moans into Yoongi’s ear, low and warm. 

Something about the knowledge that Taehyung is being satisfied in more ways than one makes Yoongi swell with pride. He is feeding Taehyung. He is Taehyung’s source of life, his driving force. 

Yoongi arches his back and lets his head rest against Taehyung’s shoulder. “You make me feel so good, Tae.” 

“Fuck, yeah?” Taehyung turns his head to press his lips to Yoongi’s forehead after a particularly hard thrust. “Will you cum for me?” 

Yoongi lets out a little whimper when Taehyung lets go of one hand to roll his palm over the sticky head of Yoongi’s cock. He immediately cums, the muscles in his thighs and stomach spasming. The only thing that holds him up is Taehyung’s arm curled around his waist. 

“Goddess,” Taehyung swears as he wipes his messy hand on the bed sheets to avoid dirtying Yoongi more. “Hold on for me, Yoongi, just a little bit more.” 

His thrusts stutter and grow shallow until all he does is grind deep inside Yoongi for a few more minutes. 

Yoongi feels the moment Taehyung cums. It’s hot, too hot, a fire that ignites deep inside his belly and sweeps through his veins like a drug. He cries out and tries to wiggle away, but Taehyung keeps his arms wrapped around his body to hold him against his chest. 

“Wait,” Taehyung groans against his neck. “Your energy, calm down, or you’ll pass out.” 

Breathing in slowly, Yoongi forces himself to relax in Taehyung’s hold. The fire eventually subsides, leaving Yoongi to melt into a useless puddle that Taehyung has to let down gently. 

Yoongi collapses onto the bed with heavy eyelids and a tingling sensation in his body that feels like every nerve has been jumpstarted all at once. Despite his fatigue, his brain is buzzing, and his senses seem heightened. Yoongi rarely participates in recreational drug use, but he knows from what little experience he has that this is a better high than any psychedelic elixir or herb a witch has invented. 

“Roll over, please?” Taehyung’s warm hands nudge Yoongi’s hip until he’s flat on his stomach. 

He lets Taehyung use a washcloth to clean him and appreciates that Taehyung chose to do so manually when he could have used magic. It’s more intimate like this. Yoongi feels cared for as Taehyung cleans him and returns with the lotion he found in Yoongi’s bathroom to massage his tight muscles. 

“Is this okay?” Taehyung whispers against Yoongi’s back when he bends forward to kiss him between his shoulder blades. His hands drag over the inside of his thighs, pressing every tight spot like he already knows Yoongi’s body better than his own. 

“If you keep going, I might get hard again.” 

The rumble of Taehyung’s laugh vibrates the bed. Yoongi can’t help but smile into his arms, where his head is cradled. 

Turning onto his side, Yoongi beckons for Taehyung to lie down with him. They both rest facing each other, one of Yoongi’s legs draped over Taehyung’s, and one of Taehyung’s hands resting on Yoongi’s waist. 

“Do you need aftercare?” Yoongi asks curiously. 

Taehyung shrugs the shoulder that isn’t pressed into the mattress. “I don’t know. No one has ever given me any.” 

Yoongi frowns at that, but Taehyung reaches out to pull one corner of his mouth up. Tutting his tongue, Taehyung hums in displeasure. “None of that.” 

“You deserve more,” Yoongi insists. 

“I’m okay.” 

Yoongi doesn’t want to ruin the mood, but he can’t help but think that the list of articles he still needs to write for the evocation tutorial has dwindled.

After tonight, Taehyung will have fulfilled his duty as Yoongi’s demon. After tonight, Taehyung will return to Hell and eventually be summoned by some other witch, likely for more sex magic. 

The idea of Taehyung fucking someone else makes Yoongi’s stomach twist. 

“Yoongi,” Taehyung whispers. He presses his finger to the wrinkles that crease Yoongi’s brow. “Why are you sad?” 

With a deep breath, Yoongi stares into Taehyung’s eyes and admits, “I don’t want you to leave.”

How I Survived My Demon Boyfriend’s Kiss Of Death

“Are you sure you want to do this?” 

Yoongi brushes Taehyung’s bangs off his forehead so he can see his eyes. They glow in the darkness of Yoongi’s bedroom, bright and alert from the ecstasy of their second round of the night. Their second time was slow and less desperate and felt too much like mourning. 

Yoongi won’t have it. 

“Yes,” he repeats with more force this time. “It may seem like a rash decision, but I have been thinking about you… for a while.” 

Taehyung’s serious expression cracks to allow a smile to seep through. Maybe Yoongi is making the wrong decision. Maybe Yoongi will regret this later in life. Maybe Taehyung isn’t really the person he has shown himself to be in the few months Yoongi has gotten to know him. 

Maybe all of these things will be true, but what Yoongi knows for sure is true is that he is giving himself away to the only person who has ever made him feel.

And that should count for something. 

Taehyung’s breath hitches when Yoongi adjusts in his lap. They’re in their boxers, still lounging in Yoongi’s bed. Taehyung sits with his back against the bed frame, propped up by pillows and blankets to make sure his wings aren’t crushed against the frame. He looks comfortable with his chin tilted so he can look into Yoongi’s eyes. 

They’re silent as Yoongi leans forward. His heart beats erratically in his chest, but the only outward evidence of his nerves is how clammy his hands are when they squeeze Taehyung's broad shoulders. 

“Have you ever done this before?” 

Taehyung shakes his head, and something sad settles over Yoongi’s heart. It hurts knowing a person so sweet and beautiful as Taehyung has lived thousands of years without experiencing aftercare and the gentleness of a kiss. 

“Okay,” Yoongi says softly. “Are you ready?” 

“Yeah,” Taehyung breathes, and his voice wavers but his eyes never stray from Yoongi’s. 

Yoongi breathes in Taehyung’s smokey scent and settles with the knowledge that he is not the only one giving himself up. Taehyung will be agreeing to be tethered to him and to live the rest of their lives on Earth with Yoongi. From what he’s told Yoongi, it seems like he’s not leaving much behind in Hell, but it’s his home regardless. 

The Love Witch may advise his followers on how to find love and companionship in the modern era, but it always stemmed from his mind rather than his heart. 

Now, as Yoongi finally slots his lips with Taehyung’s, he thinks he understands why so many people come to him with such terrible longing. If he never got to taste Taehyung’s sweetness on his tongue or feel the gentle slide of his lips against his ever again, he’s not sure he would be able to move through life for another two hundred years. 

It’s ridiculous, but he feels like he’s on another plane, and he doesn’t give a fuck if he shouldn’t let this beautiful creature take part of him for himself. 

Taehyung moans, and his hand presses against the back of Yoongi’s head to deepen the kiss. Yoongi leads and doesn’t mind when Taehyung fumbles. He swallows everything Taehyung has to give him, even as Taehyung takes from him as well. 

“It might hurt,” Taehyung had admitted guiltily when they finally agreed that this was what they both wanted. 

Now, Yoongi can’t imagine a more freeing feeling. 

Taehyung is the one to break away. He breathes heavily, air rushing out of his nose as he searches Yoongi’s face for any discomfort. Finding none, he grins, boxy and wide, and holds Yoongi’s face in both hands. 

“Thank you, little witch,” Taehyung speaks against Yoongi’s lips. Yoongi chases his lips and doesn’t feel shame when Taehyung quietly laughs. 

“For what?” 

“For letting me out of the circle.” 

Yoongi’s eyes flutter open to lock with Taehyung’s. He presses a quick kiss to the freckle on the tip of Taehyung’s nose. 

“Thank you for telling me your name.”

all rights reserved © gimmethatagustd on tumblr & AO3

do not copy, repost, modify, or translate any of my work

[harrowreads]

Leah, oh my gosh, i loved this!!! so, very much!!!

i usually do unhinged reviews where i quote way too much, but i literally never stopped reading this for a moment. all of the descriptions are so rich! a feast for the senses!!! and i loved the way you wove in greek mythology. this Namjoon and Jimin are so perfect, and i fell in love with them as they fell for one another.

seriously, friends, do yourself a favor and read this fic!!!

Curse Of The Serpent | KNJ PJM

▻ Curse Of The Serpent ↳  Perseus!Namjoon x Medusa!Jimin ⤜ Gods & Monsters ⤜ Enemies to Fated Lovers | heavy angst, mild smut, light fluff ⤜ Rating: MA 🔞 ⤜ WC: 12,024 ⤜ Summary: Perseus, also known by his mortal name Namjoon, sets forth armed with godly weapons and a determination to do what others have failed-- find and slay the creature known only as Medusa, who is rumored to be in a sea cave at the edge of the world. Only things aren't always as they seem. Using his bronze shield as a mirror, Namjoon can see that there's more to the story and that perhaps his sword isn't the answer after all.

⚠️ Mentions of violence, intended murder, lies, deceit, angst, mild blood, confused feelings, self-discovery, kissing, body touching, mild hair tugging, tending to wounds, handjob Please check the beginning of each chapter for specific warnings.

Chapter 1: Godly Gifts & Deceptive Shadows

Chapter 2: Bitter Lies & A Honeyed Truth

Story is complete.

Written for @downbad4yoongi as part of the Bangtan Writers HQ Valentine's 2023 “Picture Perfect" Fic Exchange Event. 💜 A special thank you to @moonleeai and @hisunshiine for beta'ing and helping make this what it is!

Can also be found on: Ao3 | Wattpad

◅ Back to Master List ©️    2023-02-21    ColorMePurplex2  

[harrowreads]

i am always like....................if this man has shifted from a huge beast, how is he not returning to his original form in the nude?

so, with that being said, i am imagining him nude while standing in the forest and discussing the cub with Namjoon, Hoseok, and the doctor.

also HIIII HELLOOOO I AM BACK!!!!! let's get ittt!!!

i am emotional. i love Namjoon. poor, sweet guy.

“If you’re a good person, even after death your grave is loved.”

bro, wtf lolol it's 9am and i am in my feelings.

i love the idea of Keena having a little Jungkook cub. i don't really know why they think they can lie to her, tho.....it seems like she is already aware of what has happened.

ohhhhh i don't like Minho being involved with Yoongi and Keena leaving to the town.

OH, LITTLE MATCHA COOKIE 😩😩😩

ooohhhh, a Naga!!! how fun.

do i sense flirting between Wen and Kenigo???

dinner between Keena, Yoongi, and Agust is very fun hahaha. she is definitely messing that that dragon a little.

MAAAANNNNNNNN i knew Minho was up to no good (it has to be him at the end with Yongsun.) i hate that bitch.

this whole night market situation makes me so nervous.

Blackthorn Ch 12 | M.YG

Pairing: Crown Prince Dragon!Yoongi x Crown Princess Impundulu!Keena  Genre: Soulmate AU | Arranged Marriage AU | Fantasy AU | Fluff | Angst  Word Count: 7.9K  Warnings: Magic | Shifting | Mention of Dead Bodies | Blood | Hints to Murder | Mentions Main Character Death | Depictions of Greif | Talks of Reincarnation | Kissing | Teasing | Cliffhanger Rating: PG16

Ginkgo Spirit - The Prince returns to the palace with Namjoon safely but he is missing one person.

a/n: As always thanks to @sailoryooons for being my beta and making the banner. Character asks and the taglist for Blackthorn are always open! Minors do NOT interact with my work, please and thank you.

a/n 2: Shout out to @colormepurplex2 for the wonderful Namjoon edit!! Also, the taglist is still open as well.

Taglist: @thickemadame ​​

Series Masterlist | Masterlist

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Tears had long since stopped rolling down Namjoon’s face as he sat on the forest floor surrounded by dead bodies and blood. His robes were soaked, stained so badly he knew he wouldn’t be able to wash the blood out. Koya flew down from the trees and landed on Namjoon’s shoulders. The bird chirped and nudged at Namjoon’s temple before Namjoon sighed and looked down at the tiny sleeping ginkgo tiger in his lap.

“I’ll be okay, Koya. We’re fated after all. I’ll meet him again in another lifetime.”

The wind picked up and the air around Namjoon vibrated with power. He glanced upwards at the treetops and Koya flew off his shoulder. The bird went up above, high in the air and circled around until the black dragon in the distance roared. 

It was enormous, all back with two large matte black horns that sat atop its head, just above its long curved ears. Small, black spiked horns framed large golden eyes and ran down the sides of its jawline. Its nose was long and had two large, slitted nostrils and there were black crystal-like growths on its chin. Rows of sharp teeth poked out from the side of its mouth and showed a glimpse of the terror hiding inside.

Agust’s golden eyes locked onto the familiar bird that belonged to Namjoon and went off in that direction. On his back, doctor Hyungwon clung onto one of the black spikes that ran down the length of the dragon’s body, starting from the base of his long neck. The man’s face was slightly green and he kept his eyes squeezed shut tightly to keep from seeing the world so high above the ground. 

Hoseok was perched on Agust’s back as well. His eyes were rolling flames, orange and red that shifted in the light while his skin glowed with a blue-yellow tint. His black hair whipped around his face and steam rose from the very stands. As Agust got closer to Koya, Hoseok stood up and rolled his shoulders. He looked at Hyungwon and called out to the doctor.

“Let’s go. He’s going to shift!” Hoseok picked the man up by his armpits and wrapped his arms around Hyungwon’s chest. “Hold on.” 

Agust’s body rippled with a golden glow before it started to shrink and morph into a more human form. Hyungwon shouted as the solid body under his feet disappeared and he hung in the air. Hoseok would have laughed if he wasn’t so worried about Namjoon and Jungkook. Heat surrounded his body and mist-like wings carried him in the air as he descended towards the ground. 

Agust’s giant leathery wings were angular, the inside almost entirely see-through, especially when viewed from a distance. Curved talons grew from each wing, ending like giant scythes. They shrunk in size, but did not disappear as the treetops below got closer and closer. There was nowhere to land and as Agust opened his mouth to burn the trees, they started to sway and shift. Agust and Hoseok hovered in the air, the latter confused as they watched the trees move out of their way. Koya chirped from down below and Hoseok clicked his tongue.

“The God of the forest must be here…”

Agust grunted and continued his descent to the ground with Hoseok and Hyungwon right behind him. As his feet touched the forest floor, Agust felt a powerful presence. It was all around, in the air, under the ground, and protected every single organism in sight. Hyungwon’s legs gave out as he touched the ground and Agust huffed out a thick plume of black smoke.

“Where did the bird go?” Agust scanned the area and found no trace of Koya. A power not his own swirled in the back of his mind like a distant memory and Agust found his feet moving east.

“You feel it too?” Hoseok questioned as he lifted the doctor up by his armpits once again. He kept an arm around the man’s waist and helped him walk. “There is a very old and very powerful presence here with us.”

Agust inhaled and licked his lips.  His forked tongue flicked out quickly before he hummed, “Blood has been split.”

“We need to hurry.” Hoseok tugged on Hyungwon and the doctor picked up his pace. He knew that lives were on the line and he was there to save them.

As they walked farther in the forest, the scent of blood and flowers mingled together thickly. The green grass started to darken, and as Agust took another step forward, the squish of mud underfoot made him pause. His eyes zoned in on a gathering of red spider lilies and he growled lowly.

“When did the gardener become a God?”

“What?” Hoseok stood by Agust’s side and looked at the red spider lilies. There was a haze that surrounded the area, something hidden in plain sight with old magic. “Namjoon isn’t a Go-” Hoseok’s word died on his tongue as the haze started to clear and there in the center of red spider lilies sat Namjoon, only his appearance had changed. 

His standard robes were replaced with flowing white that had green and blue flowers stitched into the fabric. The white was now soaked a deep red, his hands were tinted from the blood that he wiped off on his chest and his face was flawless. His subtle imperfections were gone, replaced with smooth skin that glowed from within, a soft green color. 

“N-Namjoon?” Hoseok’s voice was just above a whisper and carried on the wind.

Namjoon’s head turned and they could see the dried tears on his face, his brown eyes now completely green and Hoseok felt the sorrow seep into his bones.

“I-I couldn’t save him…I was too late,” Namjoon spoke and smiled sadly. “Jungkook had such a beautiful and pure soul. He tried to save a tiger that was being hunted.”

Agust watched as Hoseok and Hyungwon walked over to Namjoon. Hyungwon crouched down and carefully checked Namjoon’s face to make sure he wasn’t hurt.

“Were you injured at all, Namjoon?” Hyungwon stared at the man in front of him, knowing that it wasn’t the Namjoon that he knew. “May I see your hands?”

Namjoon looked down at his blood-tinted hands and swallowed thickly. “Do you know what a ginkgo spirit is, Hyungwon?”

“A ginkgo spirit?” Hyungwon thought over the question and a lesson from his childhood came to the forefront of his mind. “It is when an animal is wrongfully killed and its spirit is led to a ginkgo tree by the wind, correct?”

Namjoon nodded his head and smiled but it was anything but happy. “You are partly correct. The spirit of the animal is led to the tree of rebirth, a ginkgo tree, by the guardian of the forest. Power from the leaves grants the spirit the chance at a new life with the tree’s blessing.”

“I never heard that version before,” Hyungwon admitted and Namjoon looked at him. His green eyes were dark and murky, like the seaweed that washed up on shore. “Namjoon…where is Jungkook?”

“Jungkook?” Namjoon looked down at his lap and carefully unfolded his arms before he placed them at his side. There in Namjoon’s lap, a tiny gingko tiger cub slept peacefully. 

Hyungwon stared down at the tiger cub and Hoseok dropped to the ground beside him. Namjoon’s lower lip quivered and Hoseok’s eyes started to burn. Namjoon didn’t have to speak anymore, everyone understood that Jungkook had given his life to protect the tiger and in the end, he was granted rebirth through Namjoon.

“Is-” Hyungwon cleared his throat and took a deep breath before he spoke again. “Is there anyone still alive?” 

Namjoon scoffed and shook his head. “Those who clung to life, I snuffed out. Souls with such malice are not given any mercy.”

Hoseok’s hair no longer smoked, his skin no longer glowed, and his eyes were a sparkling amber once more. The adrenaline in his blood no longer ran red-hot, and as he stared at the sleeping tiger cub, he frowned.

“What are you going to do with the cub?” 

“I was unsure of what to do with him,” Namjoon sighed and he looked behind Hoseok to Agust, who had watched them silently. “I think the Princess would accept him as my engagement gift, don’t you agree, Agust?”

Agust narrowed his eyes and clicked his tongue. “If you wish to grant the Princess such a little beast as a gift…” Agust glanced at the sleeping cub and crossed his arms over his chest. “I suppose it’s as good a gift as any.”

“You would really have the Princess raise him? Why not keep him yourself?” Hyungwon wondered and Namjoon shook his head.

“Our time together in this world has passed. Jungkook will do well to keep the Princess safe.”

“I fear that the Princess will not accept the cub once she learns that it was born from Jungkook’s soul,” Hoseok voiced and Namjoon picked himself up from the ground.

“No one is to tell the Princess the truth…well the whole truth.”

“You wish to lie?” Hoseok stared at Namjoon with wide eyes.

“Not lie. We will tell a half-truth.”

Hyungwon and Hoseok glanced at the sleeping cub and sighed. “Do you think that is wise?”

“For the sake of the cub and to spare the Princess from any feelings of guilt, yes. It is our best option.” 

“Agust?” Agust narrowed his eyes as Namjoon called his name and stared unblinking. “I need to speak to the Prince.”

As gold shifted to black, scales melted away and the wings that sprouted from Agust’s back flattened once more into their correct space like they were never there. Prince Yoongi stared at his friend with watery eyes. He knew Jungkook well. The young man was extremely talented and funny. However, he could not ignore the question that Agust didn’t ask.

“Namjoon.”

“Your Highness.”

“I think we need to have a nice conversation with drinks? Don’t you agree, Hoseok?” 

Hoseok wiped at his damp eyes and cleared his throat. “Drinks sound wonderful, Your Highness. Doctor?”

Hyungwon nodded his head with a sigh and looked around at the blood soaked ground. “A drink would be much appreciated.”

“Let’s head to the nearest river to wash. Namjoon I packed new robes for you.” Hoseok motioned to the bag that Hyungwon carried and Namjoon nodded his head in thanks.

It was early the next morning when Byulyi woke the Princess and hurried her into a thick spearmint green robe and slippers. Wheein quickly wrapped her hair into a neat high bun before they led her to Aga and Mingi, who waited outside of the Prince’s chambers. The Princess was confused but the look on Mingi’s face let her know that something had happened. Their footsteps were quick. Silver started to spill into the Princess’ eyes, and before she could start to worry about what was wrong, she saw Prince Yoongi, Hoseok and Namjoon all standing out in the courtyard. The palace gates had slammed shut behind them and the Princess’ ears rang.

She chirped loudly and all three men’s heads snapped in her direction. Her eyes flooded with tears and she sprinted across the stone pathway. As she slammed into the Prince’s chest, she cried and he held her tightly in his arms. The Prince whispered soft words and squeezed her body tightly to his. Their hearts beat together frantically ,and when the Prince pulled away, he smiled.

“Sorry, we kept you waiting.”

The Princess shook her head as the Princes wiped at her tears with his thumbs. Their faces grew closer and closer until their lips touched. Namjoon quickly turned his back while Hoseok sighed and rolled his eyes.

“We weren’t gone that long, Princess.” Hoseok’s voice was teasing with the warmth of understanding laced in. He had felt the same way when he thought Namjoon was hurt.

"Sa ase," Aga spoke up and the Princess pulled away. She bit her lip as heat warmed her face while the Prince simply licked his lips and smiled.

“I believe Namjoon has something to tell you.” He stepped out of the way and Namjoon stood before the Princess with his hands and arms tucked away in his sleeves.

“Are you well, Namjoon?” The Princess searched his eyes and then slowly counted the men in front of her, there were only three. “Where is Jungkook?”

Namjoon frowned and shook his head. “You will have to forgive him, Princess. Jungkook is a free spirit. Good, warm and pure…”

The Princess saw the way Namjoon’s brows pulled together, the way his eyes misted and his face flushed. She reached out and placed a gentle hand on his bicep. 

“Jungkook will not be joining us. He um-” Namjoon cleared his throat and blinked his eyes quickly. “He stumbled upon a group of poachers that were hunting a tiger. He fought well but there were too many of them.”

“Oh, Joon…”

Namjoon slowly pulled his arms from his sleeves and held a tiny tiger cub in his hands. “This is a ginkgo tiger. He is what came of Jungkook’s sacrifice and I wish for you to have him.”

The Princess stared at the tiny cub. The cub had green and yellow ombre fur, starting from the head and going all the way down to its tail. It had pale yellow whiskers and its tail fanned out at the end like a large ginkgo leaf. The Princess found herself smiling sadly. She knew how ginkgo spirits were created and she sent a silent prayer to Jungkook for his valiant sacrifice. 

“I-I think you should keep him..her?”

Namjoon smiled and stretched out his arms. “Jungkook would have wanted you to have him. He knows I’m not the best with animals.” 

As the Princess started to disagree, the tiger cub opened its eyes and stared right at her. She was surprised to see that the cub had heterochromia; one eye was pale yellow and the other was a deep brown. The cub whined as it wiggled in Namjoon’s arms and before it could fall to the ground, it leaped into the Princess’ arms.

“Oh!” She hugged the cub to her chest and giggled as it licked at her chin. "Ki jan ou dous, ti bebe a." She cooed at the cub and nuzzled into the fur at the top of its head. Prince Yoongi stepped beside Namjoon and patted his shoulder before he walked over to the Princess’ side.

“I will talk with the head builder and have an outdoor-”

“You will do no such thing!” The Princess hugged the cub closer to her chest and glared at the Prince. “He will stay in my room. There is ample space for him.”

“My gem.” The Prince placed a hand on the Princess’ lower back and kissed her temple. The Princess stared up at him through her lashes and he sighed. “As you wish, Princess.”

She turned her attention to Namjoon who watched them with a fond smile on his face. Princess Keena stepped up to him and rested her forehead against his chest. Namjoon chuckled and wrapped his arms around her lightly.

"Si ou se yon bon moun menm apre lanmò ou renmen tonm."

“What does that mean?” Namjoon questioned as the Princess pulled away and stared up at him. The cub started to purr as she stroked the top of its head and Namjoon watched.

"If you're a good person, even after death your grave is loved."

Namjoon closed his eyes and tears silently streamed down his face. “He was one of the best people…he is very loved, even now.” Namjoon whispered as he thought about the rock and flower grave he made in Jungkook’s honor in the middle of the red spider lilies where his and the tiger’s body were reborn. Namjoon scratched under the cub’s chin and sniffled before he opened his eyes. “What will you name him?”

“I’m sure he will tell me in due time.”

“Tell you?” Namjoon raised an eyebrow and the Princess grinned.

“As the guardian of the forest, you should know that everything in the world has its proper name. Animals are no different and this cub will tell me his, in time.”

Namjoon looked at the cub and he saw that teasing fire behind the multicolored eyes. Namjoon laughed- he knew that look anywhere. “Take good care of him, Princess.”

“You can visit him whenever you would like, Namjoon.”

“We should head inside, Princess,” Aga cut into the conversation as attendants started to mill around the outside. The Princess wasn’t dressed properly and he refused to have anyone stare at her. The Prince removed his outer robe and placed it on top of the Princess, even though she wore a robe already. 

She bowed her head as the Prince tucked her underneath his arm and they headed back to his chambers. Hoseok crossed his arms over his chest as he watched the young royals leave and he sighed.

“Do you get the feeling that she knows?”

Namjoon looked after the Princess and shrugged his shoulders. “The impundulu is old and holds a lot of power. She may only understand birds but animals talk to each other regardless of species. Jungkook’s spirit is a part of the tiger, so I wouldn’t put it past him to show his true self every now and again.”

“What are you going to do about the butterfly house?” Hoseok dared to ask and Namjoon tugged at his ear lobe in thought. 

“Hyunjin is a skilled painter.”

“The carpenter’s son?”

“Mmmhmm. He hides it from his father but I’ve seen his work. I had planned on having him help Jungkook…but I’m sure Hyunjin will be fine on his own.”

“Very well. I support your decision. Let me know if there is anything I can do to help out.”

In the Prince’s chambers, Princess Keena sat on a plush rug while the cub scampered around, sniffing at everything. The Prince disappeared into the bathing water to wash the grime from his body and Aga sat on the settee with his elbows resting on his knees as he watched the cub.

“When will you leave His Highness’ chambers? You cannot stay here forever.”

“I am aware of that Aga, thank you.” The Princess giggled as the cub found the tie of her robe and started to swat at it. She waved it around for him to play with and glanced over her shoulder at Aga who sat with a frown on his face. “I will speak with the builder today and inquire about a bed and playpen for the cub. I would think that such a project would not take too long. I will resume my lessons tomorrow, now that Yoongi is back.”

Aga stared at the Princess as she played with the cub. He had not missed the way she called the Prince by his first name. “And the cub?” Aga inquired, choosing not to comment on the Princess’ familiarity with the Prince.

The Princess thought about what to do with the cub and she grinned. “He will join me!”

Aga grunted and rubbed a hand down his face. "Poukisa ou teste m konsa?"

The Princess’ laughter filled the air and Aga fought the smile that wanted to settle on his lips, “All the best guards are tested daily.”

As the day went on, the Princess spent her hours with the head builder to discuss a proper living habitat for the cub. While the Prince had the time, he sent Hoseok away under the guise of needing something from the Emperor and the stable hands. He had not forgotten what he had worked on before he left to help Namjoon and he wanted to bring his focus back to his surprise. While Hoseok was away, the Prince left a message for him with the guards at his door. He found his way to the butterfly house with no issues. Kai and Wonho bowed low at the sight of him. 

“Where is the kitsune?” Prince Yoongi questioned and Kai informed him that San was stationed at the main entrance of the butterfly house inside. The Prince turned his attention to Wonho, who had yet to speak. “If anyone asks, this one went to relieve himself.” Before Wonho could respond, the Prince grabbed Kai’s arm and pulled him inside of the main gate. He walked briskly to the main entrance of the home and San bowed low.

“The both of you will come with myself and the Princess at sundown in a fortnight.”

“Your Highness-”

“Tell no one and make sure you both fall ill.” Prince Yoongi looked between the two guards. “Do I make myself clear?” His eyes flashed golden and they both nodded. “Splendid. Now, here is a list of items that you need to get before then.” The Prince shoved a folded paper into Kai's hand and took a step back. He smoothed out his robes and looked around.

The green haired guard unfolded the paper and read over it quietly with the kitsune beside him. Kai’s eyes widened and he looked at the Prince. “Y-Your Highness-”

“We’re going over the wall?” San was excited and a little worried. How did the Prince know that they often snuck out before they became the Princess’ guards?

“If there is anything that I missed, do not hesitate to acquire it.” Prince Yoongi pulled a blue, black and gold duru-jumeoni from his robes and handed it to San.

The two guards shared a look before the kitsune spoke up, “Your Highness…if I may?” The Prince nodded his head and San continued. “I may know how to pass through unnoticed but I know nothing of the town.”

“Likewise, Your Highness.”

Prince Yoongi frowned. “Where do you go when you leave the palace walls?” Both San and Kai’s faces heated up at the question and the Prince sighed. “The Vine…” Prince Yoongi was at a loss. He remembered visiting the town when he was younger but quite some time had passed since then. He didn’t want to take the Princess out and risk getting lost. If Kai and San could not help him in town then who could?

“I have seen Minho in town,” Kai spoke up and the kitsune nodded his head in agreement.

Minho? The Prince didn’t recall ever hearing that the older man left the palace. 

“I have never seen him in-” San cleared his throat and Prince Yoongi rolled his eyes. “The Vine, but it seems like he knows his way around the town.”

“Three is more than I would like to have,” Prince Yoongi muttered to himself and Kai handed the paper to San.

“I will stay back and make sure that no one suspects a thing while San and Minho act as escorts.”

“Very well.” The Prince nodded his head in agreement. “Have Minho enter the fifth garden, there will be instructions for him to follow. He will know what to look for once he is there.”

“Yes, Your Highness!” The guards both bowed and Prince Yoongi walked away with his head held high. Kai followed behind him, five steps back and the Prince bit his tongue. He was excited for his engagement announcement now, since some time together at the night market would be his gift to the Princess.

As the Prince entered his chambers, he found the Princess on the settee fast asleep with the cub curled into her side. He smiled and dragged the back of his knuckles down the Princess’ cheek before he leaned down and kissed her temple. As he pulled away he noticed that the cub had woken up and watched his every move. Not wanting to have the Princess wake up from her nap, he scooped the cub into his arm and walked over to his desk. He placed the small fur ball on the desk and sat down. “What will she call you, hmm?”

A knock at the door made the Prince frown and the door opened shortly after. A maid entered with a covered tray. When they noticed the Prince, they bowed low and he motioned for them to place the tray on his desk. The maid bowed once more as they set the tray down and hurried out of the room. Prince Yoongi glanced at the Princess’ sleeping form and sighed. It seemed she always requested snacks. He lifted the lid and small butter cookies were stacked neatly on a plate along with two dragon fruit jelly mooncakes and a nice selection of flavored croissants. 

Beside him, the cub whined as it looked at the food and the Prince scratched his nose between his thumb and index finger. He picked up a butter cookie and held it out for the cub. The cub sniffed at the sweet treat and nibbled at it quickly.

“Slow down, little one. You will give yourself a stomach ache,” he warned with a fond smile on his face. The cub gobbled down three more cookies before the Prince covered them back up. “If you eat anymore, you will turn into a cookie and my gem will be very irate with me.”

The cub looked at the Prince with wide, wet eyes and nuzzled into his hand. “Hummm…cookie? That’s not a bad name. What do you think?” The cub was a nice shade of green that reminded the Prince of matcha cookies and it just so happened to be one of Jungkook’s favorite snacks. He picked the cub up and held it up to his face. “Cookie?” The Prince tried the name on the cub and it looked right at him. He smiled and nodded his head. “Very well, from here on out you will be called Cookie.”

When the Princess woke up, it was to voices whispering and when she sat up, the Prince was sitting with a woman that she had never seen before. The woman was older, with a wrinkled face framed in thick, grey ringlet curls. She wore a simple pleated grey skirt with a bright green ruffle blouse tucked in at the waist. The Prince caught the Princess’ eyes and he smiled before he motioned for the woman to pause the conversation.

“My gem, come. Join us.” 

Princess Keena stood from the settee and smoothed down the skirt of her cognac colored boubou before she walked over to the desk. The woman bowed low in her seat and the Princess bowed her head.

“This is Duttu. She has worked with the royal family for generations.”

“It is an honor to work on your request, Your Highness.” 

The Princess was confused. What request had she made? The Prince rested his hand on the back of Princess’ upper thighs as she stood by his side and she noticed that the cub was sound asleep in the Prince’s lap.

“I called for Duttu to design a collar and name plate for your little one.”

“Oh, thank you, Duttu.” Princess Keena bowed her head once more and Duttu smiled as she nodded her head. “But, I have not figured out a name-”

“Ah,” the Prince chimed in as he pointed to the tray on his desk. “It would seem that the cub is quite fond of cookies. He nearly ate them all and would have left only crumbs had I not stopped him.”

The Princess giggled and noticed that the cub had tiny cookie crumbs on his mouth and some had fallen into the Prince’s lap.

“I thought it was only right to name him, Cookie.”

“Cookie?” The Princess repeated the name and the cub in the Prince’s lap peeked its eyes open. “I think that is a very handsome name for such a grand being.”

“Would you like to see the design?” Duttu asked and the Princess shook her head.

“I will leave this matter in your hands, Duttu. I trust His Highness’ judgment.” Princess Keena picked Cookie up from the Prince’s lap  and brushed off the crumbs from his snout. She bit her lip when the Prince squeezed the back of her upper thigh. “I will take Cookie outside for some air. Please, excuse me.” She walked away from the Prince quickly and once outside of the chambers, she smiled at Chan and Jooheon.

“You seem happy, Princess,” Chan raised an eyebrow at the cub in her arms.

“He has a name! Would you like to guess?”

“Matcha?” Jooheon offered and Chan stared at him confused. “What? It’s a ginkgo tiger, he’s green!”

“No, but you are close.”

“Jade?”

The Princess laughed and shook her head. “He wasn’t named for his color.” Chan and Jooheon shrugged their shoulders and the Princess smiled. “Cookie! His name is Cookie.”

“Cookie?”

Jooheon reached out and scratched under Cookie’s chin making the small cub purr in delight.

“It’s a fine name, Princess.”

“Are you going out?” Chan wondered and the Princess nodded her head. “We will escort you.”

She nodded her head and started to walk off. Two guards that the Princess didn’t know took up the post in front of the Prince’s doors and she wondered where they had been before. Once outside, she placed Cookie on the ground and the little cub ran and leaped from place to place as he chased butterflies and got lost in the tall flowers. 

“Chan?”

“Yes, Princess?”

“Where is Aga?”

“He is with Lieutenant Jung at another war council.” 

“And my maids?”

“At the butterfly house preparing for Hyunjin to paint.”

“Hyunjin?”

“Yes, Princess. He is the royal carpenter’s eldest son.” 

Princess Keena nodded her head and squatted down as Cookie ran back to her. The little cub climbed into her arms and she stood up right with a smile on her face. 

“I want to show Cookie my garden. I think he will like the flowers.”

Chan and Jooheon followed the Princess to the seventh garden and they stood guard while the Princess sat underneath one of the blackthorn trees and Cookie ran around. It was a peaceful lull in their busy day of training and standing guard. It was a break that they always enjoyed when in charge of the Princess’ wellbeing, and with Cookie now by her side, the two of them were sure that their days as the Princess’ guards would become filled with a lot more excitement.  

In the morning, it was announced that Lady Zarrin was out for the time being due to a sudden emergency that needed to be handled. With that news, the Princess’ lessons were put on hold for the day. The lessons were to be taken over by another tutor and the Princess was curious as to who would stand in Lady Zarrin’s place. 

The lesson schedule was altered since the new instructor was a teacher for younger noble women and the school was unable to find a suitable replacement. The Empress understood and the other tutors were flexible with their time. The schedule for the following month was to be followed in order: species studies with Kenigo, language arts with Wen and civics with Saina before the Princess had her lunch with the Prince. Afterwards, the lessons would resume with history taught by Tempus, etiquette with the new tutor and the day would end with Kwangseon and Ellarian who taught music and dance.

The morning of the lessons, the Princess was dressed in a kaba for the day, which was made of an orange blouse with a carmen neckline that hung slightly off the shoulders. The blouse was patterned with pale yellow and green diamond shapes with two-inch white lace that hung from the bottom of the blouse. A matching mermaid skirt that had four inch slits up the side with white lace stitched inside completed the outfit. The Princess didn’t want her hair styled much today, so Hyejin kept it simple as she pulled the Princess’ braids back into a large bun that sat at the base of her neck and attached diamond encrusted gold clips to the braids that were spaced out neatly and evenly.

The lesson room was filled with fresh flowers from the garden and Cookie napped on a blue cushion in the warmth of a sun spot on the floor. The Princess waited for Kenigo, the naga, to enter the room. Kenigo was from a smaller tribe that sat on the border of two neighboring towns and he was a proud creature. The naga were known for their strength and quick reflexes as well as their ever present snake bodies. Kenigo was not like most of his kind from what he had told the Princess. He was soft spoken and had the kindest yellow eyes with rounded pupils instead of slits with thick black and blocky eyebrows. Red scales under his eyes and on his cheek bones framed his face along with his short wavy black hair that always seemed to be in his eyes. 

Kenigo had four black antennae with teal tips at the back of his head, that laid down but rose when angered or threatened. He was over six feet in length. From the top of his head to the tip of his tail, he was ten feet long. He had wide upper shoulders, four muscular arms (two came out on either side of his ribs) and a red underbelly that complemented his black and teal tail that had red scales going down its length in large circles. Kenigo’s lower body was beautiful in the Princess’ eyes. She liked that when Kenigo wore his open kimono, she could see the black and teal scales that went along the side of his ribs; plus his abs were hard to ignore. 

The Princess had thought that Kenigo would be strict and stern but he was easy going and answered all her questions without any trace of judgment. The door of the room slid open and Kenigo slithered into the room with a smile on his face. He bowed and Princess Keena bowed her head in greeting.

“Good morning, Princess.”

“Good morning, Kenigo.”

“I have spoken with Wen and we would like to have our lesson together today, outside.” 

Kenigo’s black and grey kimono swished around as he motioned to the door and the Princess rose to her feet. The weather was inviting enough and she had been itching to spend the day outdoors. “Since Wen is an Oni and we are discussing the demon species, he offered to give a more personal insist on the topic.”

“That is very kind of him. I wish not to keep Wen waiting much longer…will you both be okay if Cookie joins us?” The Princess motioned towards the sleeping tiger cub and Kenigo’s laugh was soft as he nodded his head. She lifted the cub carefully into her arms and kissed the top of his head before she followed Jooheon out the room with Kenigo behind her.

The three stepped outside and Kenigo kept to the Princess’ side as they made their way to where Wen was waiting in the bamboo rock garden that was a mid way point between the butterfly house and the palace. Wen was dressed in his usually flamboyant and colorful hanfu. Bright greens, red and pinks made the Princess smile because Wen resembled a rose bush. Kenigo lowered himself closer to the ground which made his normally eight foot height drop to seven and again the Princess smiled.

She watched how Wen’s hazy orange-red eyes brightened at the sight of Kenigo and he tucked his hair behind his ear before he took a step closer. Kenigo was no better in the Princess’ eyes as the half serpent inched his way in front of Wen and lowered himself to the ground even farther so that he was only about half a foot taller. 

“These colors suit you, Wen.”

Wen’s eyes darted to the Princess and he was quick to bow before he offered a smile. “Princess, Good morning. Oh! We have a new guest with us today?”

“Good morning, Wen, this is Cookie!” The Princess handed the sleeping cub to Jooheon and turned her attention back to the Oni. “I didn’t know you and Kenigo were close.”

Kenigo crossed his lower arms across his chest while one of his upper arms scratched the back of his neck, “We’re not t-that close,” Kenigo stumbled over his words and Wen just smiled.

“Shall we get started on today's lesson, Princess?” Wen moved the conversation to a more important topic and the Princess let it go.

The Princess’ lessons moved quickly one by one and soon it was time for lunch. Jooheon led the Princess to the seventh garden with Cookie, where she had started to have lunch with the Prince daily. Today was no different, however. The Prince was dressed in a black cross collared robe that had gold beadwork stitched along the thick collar. A black leather belt was wrapped around his waist with gold buckles and he wore a black silk robe over top with wide sleeves that had a gold dragon on the ends of the sleeves with red ink clouds. His hair was pulled away from his face in a half updo that had the top half twisted into a single neat braid with a golden clip attached to the end.

He stood upon the Princess’ arrival and watched as Jooheon pulled the seat closest to him away from the table. Once the Princess was seated, Prince Yoongi dismissed Jooheon along with ordering him to take Cookie away and sat in his seat with a smile on his face. 

The table was filled with seafood today, since at their last meal the Princess had expressed how she missed the fresh fish from her homeland. Garlic lemon shrimp with broccoli, blackened salmon with avocado salsa and a spinach salad topped with fresh strawberries, raspberries and  blueberries, feta cheese crumbles and a sweet poppy seed dressing acted as the main course. To round out the meal, medium rare steak bites with roasted potatoes and baby carrots were on the side in case the Prince wasn’t satisfied with the seafood. 

“I hope you enjoy today’s meal. I spoke with Aga to find out a few of your favorite dishes.”

The smile on the Princess’ face was worth it. Before she could decide what to start with, the Prince grabbed her empty plate and put an equal amount of the salmon and shrimp in the center before he filled the sides with broccoli and salad. The plate was set before her and she watched as the Prince zoned in on the steak and potatoes. Other dishes such as rice, enoki mushrooms with garlic and scallion sauce, beef noodle soup and jukkumi bokkeum were within the Princess’ sight and her eyes flashed silver. The Princess wanted the stir fried octopus more than anything on a bed of rice with the enoki mushrooms on the side.

The plate before her was removed and replaced with the jukkumi bokkeum. She looked over and saw that the Prince had her original plate in front of him and he was already digging into the salmon. Princess Keena picked up her chopsticks and carefully pinched a piece of steak between them before she held her hand out to the blonde beside her. The Prince said nothing as his face heated and he took the offered food. He chewed slowly, savoring the flavor of the meat that was suddenly doused in deep affection from the Princess. As he swallowed, he licked his lips and smiled as the warmth in his stomach slowly spread towards his heart.

“Gamsahabnida.”

“Cheonman-eyo." 

The Princess responded, knowing that the Prince had thanked her in old Laibic language. Prince Yoongi’s eyes widened slightly. He knew that the Princess was learning proper Laibic, but he hadn’t thought Wen would teach her the old language as well. He was impressed and proud of her.

“Are you enjoying your lessons today?”

“I always enjoy my lessons.”

The Prince rolled his eyes and the Princess narrowed hers as she popped an octopus into her mouth.

“Mother tells me you will have a new tutor for etiquette. Are you excited?”

Princess Keena shook her head softly. “I fear that Lady Zarrin went easy on me. I have heard that the new tutor is older.”

Prince Yoongi huffed, “I doubt Lady Zarrin went easy on you. She points out mistakes and works with you to correct them. There is no need to berate or belittle someone if they make a mistake. As a royal, it is our duty to move with grace and show no flaws before the people that we lead.” The Prince took a sip of his wine and cleared his throat lightly. “However, the only thing that separates us from the masses is the title our blood grants us. Outside of that, we are the same and we make mistakes.”

“You are full of wisdom today, my Prince.”

A smile tugged at the Prince’s lips and his gaze dropped down to the plate in front of him. He picked at the shrimp and lifted one to his mouth before he glanced at the Princess beside him. “I do share the soul of a very, very old dragon.”

The Princess giggled and nodded in agreement. “Should I give thanks to him?” 

The Princess’ words were teasing but Agust stirred deep within the Prince’s being. His eyes melted into golden orbs and Yoongi clicked his tongue.

“Be careful Treasure…”

The words were low and rumbled like a storm at sea, it made goosebumps cover the Princess’ skin and hair rise on her arms. A warning within such a jest was a warning still and the Princess took a slow sip of water from her cup. 

“My thanks would have you-”

“The food is going to waste,” the Princess had interrupted Agust’s words and the blond beside her narrowed his eyes. “Have some, steak. You seemed to like that just fine.” Again, she pinched a piece with her chopsticks and held her hand outward towards the man who had started to lose the battle with his dragon inside. “Come now my Prince, it’s getting cold.”

Golden eyes glanced down at the meat and when he licked his lips, the Princess noticed that the tip of his tongue had become a deep indigo color. The man before her wasn’t just the Prince but Agust and she knew to take the warnings that surrounded him seriously even if he acted softer in her presence. 

“Ahhhh.” She smiled and twisted her wrist around, the steak at the end of her chopsticks moved this way and that.

A plume of smoke fell from Agust’s nose as he huffed and he was quick to snap his teeth around the end of the chopsticks and close his lips. Golden eyes locked with brown and as he pulled back, his tongue flicked the ends of the chopsticks. He sat back in his seat, crossed his arms over his chest and chewed silently. Slowly, gold gave way to inky black and the Prince was once again before the Princess.

“Did he cause distress?”

The Princess shook her head and smiled once again. “It seems he was more interested in the meal than me.” 

The rest of the lunch went by without further incident and the two royals walked back to the butterfly house, arm in arm while Cookie darted around their feet. At the gate, Chan and Minho both bowed before the royals and opened the doors. Cookie scampered off ahead and as the Princess had started to walk away, the blond reached out and grabbed her wrist. His hand fell to her palm and their fingers laced together. The Princess turned to face him and smiled as she squeezed his hand lightly.

“Don’t fret, Princess. Have faith in your abilities and everything will go smoothly.”

“Was that your dragon or-”

Prince Yoongi growled and pulled the Princess into his arms, their entwined fingers pressed between their chests. “You enjoy stoking the flames, Princess?”

She stared at the man before her, wide eyed and quiet before she tilted her face upwards and pressed her lips to the underside of his jaw. Black scales, firm and slightly cool, caught the warmth that seeped from her lips. Before the Prince could respond, the Princess pulled away, slipping through his fingers like sand and disappeared behind her gates like smoke in the wind. He stood outside of the butterfly house, frozen. Jooheon cleared his throat from behind the Prince and that pulled him back to Earth.

“K-Keep up the good work,” Prince Yoongi grumbled and walked off in the direction of the palace. He had a meeting with Duttu about Cookie’s collar and he planned to surprise the Princess with the finished product.

In the late night when the moon was at its highest and smothered by clouds, two figures cloaked in darkness sat in the farthest corner of the Marmota tavern. It was a hole in the wall, filled with unknown patrons that made deals with devils and sold their souls for a moment of happiness at the expense of someone else’s life. Smoke hung in the air like a veil while drinks slushed and spilled onto the floors from careless cheers and fists slammed against table tops.

A barmaid carried over to pints of eastern blaze mead and set them on the table as she smiled at the two cloaked figures. The taller of the two nodded his head and the barmaid dashed off to deal with another table.

“W-Why did you ask me to come here?”

“You chose to come here.”

“There was a note folded in with my belongings with no signature…”

The man grabbed his cup and raised it to his mouth before he took a long sip and set it down. “You were wrongfully dismissed. Banished from the palace for what? Trying to save that woman’s reputation.”

The woman across the table pulled the hood of her cloak down. Brown eyes were bloodshot, dark bags sat under eyes and a deep frown rested on her face. Thick white bandages were wrapped around her throat and tightened as she talked. “I did everything Her Majesty asked of me and she threw me aside like common waste!”

“You served Her Majesty well.”

“It’s the Prince’s fault! He…he’s a monster!” The woman touched her neck tenderly and flinched as she remembered the way the Prince’s nails dug into her skin.

“And that is the future ruler of the Empire, how horrid.” 

The man pulled a small scroll of paper from his robes and slid it to the middle of the table. The woman looked at the scroll and reached out, her fingers touched the man’s and she gulped. As the man pulled his hand away, the woman wrapped her fingers around the scroll and tucked it into her own robes. 

“What is this?”

“The young Prince wishes to sneak out of the palace to the night market…do what you will with that information.” He downed the rest of his drink and stood. “The future of the empire is in your hands…Yongsun.”

Before the man could walk away, Yongsun grabbed his robes. “Who are you? Why are you helping me?” She tried to see under the hood of the man’s cloak but all she saw was the start of a mask that covered the man’s nose and upper face.

“I am no one. Just following orders.” As he spoke, the man pushed Yongsun’s hands off his robes and disappeared from sight.

[harrowreads]

MY CHELLLLL!!!!!! 😍🐚

hello, my love!!! i am on a quest to catch up with everything that i have been behind on. i am such a silly goose and i fell asleep mid-read yesterday because taking a nap when it's too hot outside is my favorite past time, apparently. but my laptop also fell asleep and deleted everything i had said, and did not save a full draft. 😩😭😭 i will do my best to recreate what i said.

(and please don't take it as an insult that i fell asleep while reading your fic. i am the sleepiest of sleepy heads and i can fall asleep doing any and everything haha. in fact, i get very tired, in general, when i read, which is such a burden!!!!)

ok let's goooo!!!! spoilies under the cut!!!

man, i get like........royals have a responsibility to the crown whatever whatever, and i am sure that having Yoongi and Keena marry is going to play into the war/politics, but 90 days??? damn, dad!!!

awe, i love Aga. of course, he had to have known, but of course, he is apologetic. and i love how Keena is taking it all in stride. i never would have seen her as the type to be genuinely mad at him, anyway.

Minho is sus. 🤨

Youngjae let's goooo!!!! also lol Seokjin is such a flirt. i still don't fully know what his deal is, but i am not distrusting of him.

sneaking out to the night market feels like a......maybe bad idea.......but i am also very interesting in how it could play out hehe.

ugh i love the descriptions used when the princess enters Yoongi's room and Agust begins to take over. and their little back-and-forth of man and dragon. so goooodddd.

i love Agust getting hot and bothered and Keena being like "down, boy, i want to eat" hahaha.

(also lol at the two of us writing a Yoongi tickling the mc scene probably around the same time. what was in the water that caused the two of us to do that???? lolololol.)

man, Yongsun fucked up.

it is concerning that Yoongi does not seem to remember what happens when Agust is in full control. (i can't remember if that was the case when Ceyeh was in full control of Keena before, but i assume so?) like...................what destruction could this dragon cause, and how could that affect the prince???

i do like that Yoongi is listening to Agust's concern tho, and insisting Keena stay with him. is it irrational? yeah, like.......the problem has been solved. but it's also cute (and we love it when a fictional man is a little possessive idk. 🤪🤪🤪)

i do love the Empress but she also scares the hell out of me haha. i suppose that is the point. and she has every right to react the way she did to Yongsun's suggestion.

ugh, Yoongi is so dreamy. literally, too, since he put Keena right to sleep hahahaha.

oh maaaannnnnnnnn.

okay, there is a lot to unpack, but.......i noticed it when the princess came into the room, saw Yoongi shifting to Agust and smiled. but at the end, she also seems to bring Agust out in him? or maybe she is just not surprised to see him, anymore. KEENA, WHICH ONE OF THEM ARE YOU MOST INTERESTED IN??? tbh i would want them both, but that's just meeeee.

she is very bold. i love princess Keena.

i love that we got to see more of the prince and princess together. but i am also very curious how this will unfold. Yoongi is sweet, but almost too sweet, if he is putting her to sleep with his actions and words. Agust, though..........hmmmm.....

Blackthorn Chapter 11 | M.YG

Pairing: Crown Prince Dragon!Yoongi x Crown Princess Impundulu!Keena  Genre: Soulmate AU | Arranged Marriage AU | Fantasy AU | Fluff | Angst  Word Count: 12.5K  Warnings: Kissing | Scenting | Pet Names | Shifting | Mild Violence | Blood | Mentions and Debates of Abortions | Attempt of Abortion Without Consent | Threats of Execution | Betrayal | Daechwita Yoongi’s Outfit Rating: NC17

Distraction - As Namjoon leaves to meet with Jungkook, Princess Keena takes it upon herself to distract Prince Yoongi from his friend's absence.

a/n: As always thanks to @sailoryooons for being my beta and making the banner. Character asks and the taglist for Blackthorn are always open! Minors do NOT interact with my work, please and thank you.

a/n 2: The chapter itself isn't smuty. There are a few steamy moments, but that's really it. I rated this nc17 because of the topics that are talked about.

Taglist: @thickemadame ​​

Series Masterlist | Masterlist

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The audience with the Emperor and Empress Min wasn’t as long as the Princess had thought it would be. The Emperor apologized for deceiving both Keena and the Prince, as well as not making it known sooner what his intentions were. Empress Min sympathized with their feelings but made it clear that the wedding would happen no matter what. Prince Yoongi had informed his parents that he and the Princess had talked on their own, and that they were open to the idea of their marriage. However, they wanted to be married on their own time.

Emperor Min had quickly put that idea to rest and let both the young royals know that they were to be wed within ninety days. The Prince had tried to argue but the Emperor refused to speak any more on the matter. 

Princess Keena inquired about the living arrangements since she had stayed at the butterfly house and Empress Min’s answer was simple: the butterfly house was a wedding gift from the Emperor and her gift would arrive at the palace within a month. The fear of Agust acting out from the news had passed and the Princess was allowed to return to her room within the palace, if she wished. The Empress also made it clear that an official wedding announcement would be made in a fortnight. Other minor details were discussed and the Princess’ mind was put at ease as the Prince held her hand throughout the whole ordeal. 

When the young royals left the throne room, they retreated to their respective chambers and changed into casual clothing before they met in the library and ignored their responsibilities for the rest of the day. 

At the end of the week, Namjoon announced that he would leave the palace to receive his friend, Jungkook in person, since the young artist informed him of his coming arrival. He also wanted to leave so that he could return during the day before the night market. At the mention of the night market, the Prince was struck with an idea and he filed it away for a later time. For now he bid his dear friend goodbye and wished for a safe trip. It would take Namjoon two days to reach Jungkook and the Princess was looking forward to meeting the young man who stole the gardener's heart.

Prince Yoongi pressed a fleeting kiss to the Princess’ cheek right after he bid Namjoon farewell and promised that they would have their daily meal together before he hurried off with Hoseok right behind him. The Princess didn’t question the Prince’s actions. She understood that beyond the palace walls the world was dangerous. She was sure that Namjoon would be fine, but who was she to push aside the Prince’s worries?

It was getting late. The sky was a mix of fresh blue and winter white clouds that were slowly shifting to mellow yellow, pale pink and gleaming wine. The air was fragrant with azaleas and camellias. White petals from the dogwood trees nearby carried on the wind and littered the ground as Princess Keena walked along the path. She wore a kaftan that was dyed orange and black with black sapphire embroidered along the v-neckline. 

Her hair was piled high on top of her head in a neatly twisted bun. A thin, gold metal ring the size of an apple rested at the base of the bun. Wrapped around it were pea-sized persimmon fruit and flowers made from orange topaz, fire opal and mother of pearl. The hair ornament was secured by a single gold hair pin that had tiny jade persimmon fruit leaves that dangled from the end.

Aga walked beside the Princess, arm in arm, silently. His hair that was usually styled up and out of his face was pulled back into a half bun with some of his braids hanging around his shoulders. The Princess had nowhere in mind to go, it was a nice evening and she did not want to go inside just yet. 

“Aga?”

“Princess?”

She smiled as her title passed from Aga’s lips in her same tone of voice.

“Once I marry His Highness…what happens to you?”

“What do you mean, Princess?”

“Will you return to Escistan? You have a wife, remember?”

Aga’s lips quirked as he fought a laugh and he inhaled deeply as he thought over the Princess’ words. 

“Izaso and I agreed that I would return home once you were fully settled into your new role.”

“Did everyone know that I would not be returning to Escistan when they left that day?” Aga kissed his teeth and the young woman beside him laughed. “I’m not upset…not anymore. I understand why everyone kept it from me.”

"Se te nan pi bon enterè ou.” Aga stopped walking and lowered himself to his knees before the Princess as he asked for her forgiveness. “Padonnen m, Princess." 

Princess Keena smiled and crossed her arms over her chest as she bowed her head."Nou pa rete sou moun ki kapab genyen yo."

Aga rose to his feet, once the Princess lowered her arms and he nodded his head. “You are correct. The past is the past and that cannot be changed.” Aga smiled as he felt his heart drum with pride. “You will make a wise Empress, one day.”

Footsteps caught Aga’s attention and he looked ahead to see Minho coming their way. Aga stood tall and emotionless as the man approached the pair silently. 

“Princess,” Minho bowed low in her direction and she bowed her head. He turned his attention to Aga and bowed his head before he spoke up. “I saw a few soldiers at the training grounds. They are relentless in their training. However, I fear that they may overexert themselves if they keep up with the extra lessons.” Minho shook his head as he frowned. 

“I tried to intervene and have them cease for the evening but they were insistent on honing their skills. I cannot blame them, for I was once like that at their age.”

“How many?” Aga questioned as he felt a headache slowly start to build behind his eyes.

“A little over two dozen from what I could see. I didn’t count them.”

“Very well.” 

Aga turned his attention to the Princess and bowed his head. "Sifle ak mwen pral vini si ou bezwen mwen. Sa pa ta dwe pran twò lontan, men sòlda sa yo fè tèt di."

The Princess laughed at Aga’s words. She would have to agree with him, the soldiers of this Empire were indeed very stubborn.

Aga faced Minho once more and stood tall. “You will escort the Princess back to the butterfly house. Make no other stops along the way unless it is His Highness.” Aga stared at Minho, unblinking. “Do I make myself clear?”

Minho bowed and Aga grunted before he walked off. Minho rose to his full height and Princess Keena smiled at the older guard. Since her time in the palace, she had not had the chance to spend much time with him. 

“Shall we head back, Minho? I am sure Yongsun is worried sick over my whereabouts.” 

As the two started to walk back down the path, Minho kept his distance, five steps behind the Princess and laughed internally. The other guards were so friendly and often walked beside her, so it was odd to have Minho right behind her.

“Minho?”

“Yes, Princess?”

She looked over her shoulder and smiled. “Can you walk by my side? I would feel more at ease with you in my line of sight.” Minho bowed his head and took large steps until he was beside the Princess. “I apologize if this is uncomfortable for you.”

“Not at all, Princess. It is my duty to serve you well.”

“You are one of my very first guards from when I came.” Her voice was light as she spoke, a faint warmth to her words that burned Minho’s heart. “Thank you for always protecting me. I know it must not be easy.”

“Nonsense, Princess.” Minho shook his head as he spoke. “Protecting you is an honor. I could not think of anything else I would like to do.”

“Spoken like a true member of the royal guard.” The Princess glanced at Minho’s side profile and caught sight of Seokjin in the distance. “Forgive me, Minho, but I would like a moment with Seokjin.”

The Princess swiftly changed her steps and Minho allowed her to do so. He remembered Aga’s words, but the Princess had the final say. 

Seokjin looked as handsome as ever. He wore a black open cross collar robe that reached just below his ankles with flowing sleeves that melted into a soft brown and covered his hands. A white outer robe with short sleeves was worn over top with a thick pale green collar. The image of two cranes in tan, brown, black and gold was embroidered on the right shoulder with reeds and feathers. The same pale green from his collar matched the belt around his waist that kept his robes closed. A thin twisted belt of leather was placed over top of the belt and it had a beautiful tan and white norigae hanging from it. 

Seokjin was sitting with a man that the Princess had never seen before and she noticed that he was dressed in similar garb as Seokjin, only the colors were reversed. As she approached, Seokjin grinned. He rose to his feet and bowed low as the other man followed his lead.

“Princess Keena, it is good to see you in good health.”

“Same to you, Seokjin. Forgive me for not visiting you sooner.”

Seokjin waved off the Princess' comment and shook his head. “You are hard at work with your studies. It would be asinine of me to think so highly of myself.” Princess Keena raised an eyebrow and Seokjin laughed as he motioned to the man beside him. “Princess, allow me to introduce you to my underling, Choi Youngjae.”

Youngjae was as cute as he was handsome. His face was youthful with kind, black eyes and a button nose. The more she looked at him, the Princess was reminded of a sea otter. Youngjae bowed deeply and on top of his head, covered mostly by his silky dark brown hair, were a set of little round brown and tan ears. 

“It is a pleasure to meet you Princess Keena.” Youngjae rose to his full height after the Princess bowed. “I hope you are enjoying your stay here in the Min Empire?”

“I am learning so much and everyday is a new lesson. It is very much a never ending feeling of gratefulness.”

“Ah, I see. That is wonderful to hear.” Youngjae grinned, all teeth and squinty eyes which in turn made Seokjin and the Princess both laugh. 

“How are you so cute, Youngjae?” Seokjin teased as he threw an arm around the younger’s shoulders. “You shouldn’t be cuter than me!”

“Seokjin, please,” Youngjae begged as he glanced over at the young royal. “Not in front of the Princess!”

“Oh, do not mind me. I just came over to say hello.” Once again the Princess bowed her head. “Please, enjoy the rest of your evening. It was a pleasure meeting, Youngjae.”

Youngjae wiggled out of Seokjin’s hold that had turned into a headlock and he quickly smoothed down his hair around his ears.

“N-Nice meeting you, Princess! Enjoy your evening.” Youngjae bowed deeply and Princess Keena smiled before she turned on her heel and headed on her way back to the butterfly house. 

Once at the butterfly house, the Princess wished Minho a good night and disappeared into the home where Wheein and Hyejin were waiting. They had a light meal ordered for the Princess and helped her into the bathing waters where they washed the day away. 

“Where is Yongsun?”

The Princess was bathed and patted dry before she stood nude to have oils rubbed into her skin.

“Her Royal Majesty called for her.”

“And Byulyi?” She asked softly as she was dressed for bed.

“She is bringing your meal.”

“Are you okay, Princess?” 

“Do you think Yongsun will return soon?” Princess Keena looked at her attendants and they both shook their heads. 

The Princess grinned and looked down at the dusty rose sleep gown that she wore. The sleeves were short but covered her shoulders in full and flowed down into a sweetheart neckline. The skirt of the gown was pleated with cream and coral colored flowers that lined the hem of the gown. It reached towards the floor, almost covering her feet and was the same length all around.

“Have my meal doubled and send it to His Highness’ chambers.”

“...It is getting late, Princess. I would advise against-”

“I will be sure to make it known that you both tried to stop me.” Princess Keena smiled at the two attendants. “You will not be punished, I promise you that. Now-” she looked around the room and wiggled her toes as she sat on the edge of her bed. “I need my shoes and a robe.”

She understood that it was late and she risked the chance of an improper rumor, but she did not want to leave the Prince alone tonight. When they had dinner earlier, he seemed lost in his thoughts and the Princess worried that he was upset over Namjoon’s safety. 

In his chambers, the young Prince sat at his desk with scrolls and scrolls of paper stacked high. He had Seokjin bring him all the important documents on the night market. Ever since Namjoon had mentioned it, an idea had wormed its way into the Prince’s mind and he could not ignore it. He would whisk the Princess away and disappear over the wall for one single night. At the night market, they wouldn’t be royals, but a simple couple newly engaged. Needless to say, the idea wouldn’t leave the Prince’s mind and he started to plan the moment Namjoon disappeared from sight. 

He explained to the older man that he should start to take an interest in the goods that are sold now because once the news of his engagement is announced, those sales will go up and he would like to support the people any way he can. Seokjin was none the wiser and sent a good amount of scrolls. 

In the light provided by the candles and fresh out of the bathing waters, the Prince’s scales glimmered along his jaw as he tapped his nails against the surface of the desk while he read over another scroll. This one explained in detail the baked goods that one vendor sold. They were a sweet shop, with homemade candies and sweet breads as their main attraction. He made a note to visit the stall when he escaped with the Princess for that night.

A knock at the door pulled the Prince from his mental list and he cleared his throat. “Enter!” He had called out and continued to read over the scroll. The door opened a few moments later and crisp citrus flooded his senses. A warmth, soft and inviting, circled around the Prince’s mind. He closed his eyes for a second and inhaled through his mouth. “Entering my chambers at such an hour? What would the servants think, hmmm, Princess?”

When the young royal looked up from his papers, the Princess had already crossed more than half the room. She was stunning as she seemingly flouted closer and closer to the Prince. She was dressed in delicate tones and smelled like the sweetest of treats. 

The Prince sat up in his chair, his back ramrod straight against the wooden back of the seat. Her hair was pulled into a low braided ponytail that rested over her left shoulder. There were no jewels - except for the gifted rings - or makeup in sight, and he felt Agust stir deep in his gut.

As their eyes locked, the Prince licked his lips and brought his arms up so that he was raised on his elbows. He interlocked his fingers and rested his chin on top. “Do your attendants know you are here, Princess?”

The Princess placed her hands flat against the desk and leaned forward, her eyes bright and playful as she smiled coyly. “And if they do not?”

A low rumble vibrated in the Prince’s chest and his eyes started to quiver as onyx and gold folded into the other. The smile on the Princess’ face grew wider and she straightened up before she started to walk around the Prince’s desk. Her fingertips glided across the surface. A deep black plum of smoke fell from the Prince’s nose as the Princess’ fingers caressed the edge of his right elbow and ghosted up the length of his arm. The heat from her touch seeped into the silk material of his light blue robe and caused him to shiver as goosebumps raised on his bare chest. 

Up. Up. Up.

Her touches were feather light, soothing and disarming. A patch of warm sunlight on a cool winter’s eve. The Prince found himself leaning back in his seat as he straightened up once more and pushed away from his desk. There was now a space big enough for the Princess to sit in his lap if she so wished and he leaned into her touch as fingertips skimmed the collar of his robe. The heat was teasing as the Princess avoided touching his skin directly. 

“Thisss is a dangerousss game to be playing, Treasssure…you might not come out the victor.”

The Prince’s voice was low and slurred, the words strung together by a repetitive sss as his tongue started to darken and split in his mouth. Her fingers dipped low on either side of his shoulders and the Princess’ scent was all around him. It filled his lungs like water and wrapped his heart in a thick fog that was so dense, he knew only her. Only sharp, sweet tangerines and gooey, syrupy honey dripped in his mind. Orange and gold. Sweet and sweeter, yet. 

His. She was his.

Fingers gathered his damp hair off his face, pushed it from his shoulders and tucked it behind his ears. A subtle weight, still warm, pressed against his temple and smoothed down his cheek to his jaw.

Mine. She is mine.

A startled yelp fell from the Princess’ lips as clawed fingers gripped her hips and lifted her from the ground. She landed in the Prince’s lap, her arms thrown over his strong and sure shoulders that were now on clear display since his robe had slipped down. 

“I thought you could use some company, my Prince.”

A single eyebrow quirked and the Princess held her breath as clawed fingers gripped her chin. Those expressive eyes were torn, a battle between black and gold that seemed to never end, and yet the Princess felt no fear in her heart. Her fingers lightly pulled at the hair that was at the nape of the Prince’s neck. It was a gesture that her mother used to do to calm her when she was younger. Ink black grew more and more as the gold faded and the Princess stared into those mesmerizing eyes.

“You seem one edge, my Prince.”

“I wonder why?”

The Princess smiled as the grip on her chin loosed and the large hand fell to her throat. Her pulse was hummingbird fast under the gentle pressure of the Prince’s hand. His blunt nails dragged down the column of her throat and her head tilted to expose more of her skin. A gulp, loud and telling. More truthful than any words spoken out loud filled the air and the Princess refused to break eye contact with the Prince. He licked his lips, his tongue pink and whole once more as he lightly tapped his nails against the skin.

“May I, Princess?” 

“If you so wish, my Prince.”

Her voice was but a whisper in the growing night, lost by the time it reached his ears but it was enough. He tightened his hold on her neck just a little before his nose pressed into the hollow of her throat. He inhaled deep, needy breaths over and over. His tongue slipped past his lips, wet and searing. The Princess’ body felt like it was on fire as he licked and licked and licked at her skin. Small sections of her flesh were sampled, nipped at softly to not inflict any pain. Sweet. So very, very sweet.

His hands trailed down to the Princess’ waist, and he frowned at their position. She was in his lap sideways and that wasn’t good enough. He wanted to - needed to - be closer. Growling, he stood up and set the Princess on his desk. Her arms fell from around his shoulders and she held herself up as she leaned back on the desk.

“M-My Prince.” Her pupils were blown and her voice was crooning. Her chest rose and fell quickly and her heart beat loudly in the Prince’s ears. 

He watched as she pushed the robe from her shoulder and pulled her arms free. Her legs spread just a little, wide enough for a leg to fit in between and the Prince felt Agust claw at his insides. So very, very sweet. He reached out and cupped her cheek in his hand, his thumb rested at the corner of her mouth and he bit his lower lip. His fangs poked out and he watched with unblinking eyes as the Princess grabbed his wrist in her hands. She pulled his hand closer to her mouth and kissed his fingertips. He smirked as the pink of her tongue poked out and wrapped around his thumb.

“What do you need of me, Princess?” His voice was raspy, smoke and glass as he allowed for the Princess to lose herself with the taste of himself on her tongue. “Ask for anything and it shall be yours.” He stepped forward and made a space for himself between the Princess’ legs that opened wider for him so easily. “What is it that you desire?”

The Prince removed his thumb from the Princess’ mouth, tugged at her lower lip and trailed her spit down the length of her throat before he rested his hand on the back of her neck. They stared into each other’s eyes and he leaned forward, foreheads pressed together as they breathed each other in. Her lips parted as she tried to speak and a sudden knock at the door made the hair on the Prince’s neck rise. Gold, sure and strong, blinded the Princess for only a moment before her face was tucked into his chest and he wrapped his arms around her.

“Who disturbs my rest?” Shattered glass and running rivers of fire, the Earth burned ten times over. His voice was no longer his own, patches of black scales had scattered across his body and the Princess was pulled from her scent intoxicated state of mind.

“A late night meal, sire.”

“Go aw-”

“Enter!” The Princess’ voice was light but strong as she pushed the Prince away and slipped off his desk. As her feet touched the floor, the Prince removed his robe and swung it over her body. The scent of sage and ginger, potent and all consuming wrapped around the Princess and she sat in the Prince’s chair while he stood beside her, nude from the waist up for all to see.

The door to the Prince’s chambers opened and the servants stepped in with trays of food. They all kept their eyes on the table in front of them as they set down the trays and hurried out the room with low bows. The thunk of the closed doors echoed in the silence and the Princess hugged the robe over her shoulders tighter to her body.

“We should eat.” She rose to her feet and the Prince grabbed her arm. “My, Prin-”

“Now, now Treasure. Let us continue what we-”

She looked up into golden eyes and pulled her arm free. “Sit down and eat, Agust. I will not repeat myself again.”

Agust clicked his tongue and offered the Princess his hand. His nails were ombre black and pointed, no longer pale and blunt. A patch of black scales spread along his wrist and caught the light of the candle. As the Princess looked at him, she could see the clear differences between her Prince and the dragon within. Agust was blade-like, razor sharp in both mind and body. Smooth, cold…deadly. Whereas the Prince was more well…like a pallas cat. Fierce and silent with looks to die for but oh, so soft…if you got close enough.

As she placed her hand in Agust’s, she shivered. Ceyeh fluttered deep in her heart, called to the Princess to watch herself, and screamed that danger was too close. Silver, a shade that rivaled the moon, started to leak into the Princess’ eyes. Danger. Danger. Danger.

“Are you afraid of me, Treasure?”

“Should I be?”

A low rumble sound from his chest and he led the Princess to the settee in the sitting room. They sat beside each other with three feet between them and Agust kept his eyes on the Princess. She ignored him, focused on making a plate that she knew the Prince would enjoy.

“Eat.” She held the plate out towards Agust and he stared at the small pile of food. The food was nothing that he did not have before but the way it was placed caught his eye. Agust flicked his eyes from the plate to the Princess’ face and stared into her silvery brown orbs. 

“What is the name of your spirit, Treasure?”

“Eat.” 

The Princess refused to answer the question because Ceyeh told her not to give her name. Something about Agust put the bird spirit on edge and that worried the Princess. 

Agust took the plate and sat back against the arm of the settee. He kept his eyes on the Princess the whole time she made her own plate and they ate in silence. Little by little the patches of black scales faded and gold gave way to onyx. By the time the plates were clear, the Prince was once again himself and he laid on the settee with the Princess in his arms.

Her head rested on his chest, her ear right above his heart as he unbraided the Princess’ hair and coiled the smaller braids around his fingers. Seeing the Princess in his robe while he only wore a pair of dark blue sleep pants made him inhale deeply. Tangerine and sage, honey and ginger…a mixture he had come to love in such a short amount of time.

“Forgive me, Princess?” His voice broke the silence and the Princess’ breath froze. “Forgive me for I am not strong enough to keep such a monster at bay. I think that Agust would not harm you but even I cannot predict his thoughts.”

“You have nothing to be forgiven for, my Prince.” Princess Keena lifted her head and rested a hand over the Prince’s heart before she placed her chin on top. “I entered your chambers of my own free will. I knew what a late night visit would suggest and yet here I am.” Her eyes sparkled in the dim lighting of the room as she walked her fingers up the Prince’s chest, neck, jaw and tapped his nose playfully. “I am here and I am safe with you.”

The Prince grabbed her wrist gently and slid his fingers upward until he was able to lace their fingers together. He stared at their entwined hands thoughtfully before he spoke,“Aga will have my head for this.”

“For what? A late night meal?”

He huffed a laugh at the Princess’ words and shook his head. “For this.” He flipped their bodies easily. Now that he hovered over the Princess, settled between her legs, he leaned forward and inhaled their mingled breath. His eyes asked a silent question and the Princess nodded her head. “Words, Princess.”

“Words.” The Princess’ voice was playful and teasing as she stared up at the blond above her with a smile on her lips. 

Prince Yoongi’s hair dropped from over his shoulder and untucked from behind his ear. The long locks created a blond curtain that hid them from view and as he leaned down, he growled deep within his chest.

“Amusing.”

His lips pressed down, soft and sure. Fermented fruit lingered on his tongue and as he licked at the seam of her lips, he wondered what she would taste like. Faint traces of buttercream made him sink into the kiss. Smooth, sweet, delicious. Their lips pressed harder and harder, hands touching and searching for more and more skin. The robe that covered the Princess was pushed away and exposed so much skin. It wasn’t enough, he wanted to drink her in, swallow her whole.

His lungs hurt, begged and pleaded for oxygen and yet he couldn’t find it in himself to break away. Warm hands pressed against his chest and their lips parted for a moment. The rush of air that swooshed down his throat was dizzying and the Prince found himself staring down at the Princess. 

Her chest heaved, veins pulsing under her skin and she stared at him like he held the very stars in his eyes. Two tiny moons and a galaxy of stars that were made for each other. As their foreheads pressed together, their noses squished and they panted, not once looking away from the other. 

“It is quite late,” the Prince muttered and his lips brushed against the Princess’.

“It is.”

He inhaled her sweet scent and nuzzled their noses together. “Stay with me?”

The question was whispered, a mix of air and desire as their lips touched again and again with each spoken word.

“What would everyone say?”

“To hell with everyone.”

The Princess giggled and pecked the spit slicked lips above her. The Prince leaned down and captured her lips in a deeper kiss, delicate in nature with a bold lick of tongue and nip of teeth.

“Stay with me?” his twinkling eyes were sincere and the Prince pulled away, heaving the Princess up in his arms. “Please?” His lips fell down and poked outward with a mind of their own and the Princess pecked his full, pouty lips.

“If I agree, will you put the pallas away?”

The blond narrowed his eyes and snarled as he started to tickle the Princess’ sides. She fell backwards onto the settee once more and the Prince pounced. Her laughter was masked by screams as she tried to get away but it was no use. Prince Yoongi kept her locked under his weight as he tickled her mercilessly. 

“Do you yield?” 

She couldn’t stop, the shrieks of laughter, now soft giggles as tears rolled down her temples and disappeared into her hairline.

“Do you yield?” He asked once more as he pinned her hands above her head and the Princess nodded.

“Y-Yes! I y-yield.”

“Will you stay with me?”

She heaved a great sigh as her heart started to beat normally in her chest once more. Brown eyes stared into black and again the Princess nodded her head. “I will stay with you, my Prince.”

The Prince lifted himself off the settee and offered his hand to the Princess to help her up. “Head in without me. I will be there shortly.”

“What are you plotting? The hour is late, my Prince. I am sure you will have a busy day tomorrow.” The Princess grabbed hold of his hand and stood up. The sleeve of her nightgown had slipped off her right shoulder and the Prince licked his lips.

“That I do,” he reached up and pulled the sleeve back into place before he cupped the Princess’ cheek and pressed a ghost of a kiss to her forehead. “I will be in shortly. I must clean up first and speak with the guards.”

“Do not linger, my Prince. I wish not to sleep alone, now that I am here.”

“As you wish, Princess.” 

Prince Yoongi pecked the Princess’ lips and removed himself from her body. He watched as the Princess turned her back and his eyes locked onto dark markings that weren’t covered by the nightgown. The marks resembled ice crystals and as she disappeared farther into his chambers, he felt Agust claw at his very soul. He inhaled a deep breath and released it slowly. He licked his lips and groaned, the taste of the Princess was still on his lips and his mind started to spiral. 

“No. No,” he shook his head and cleared his throat. He could not allow himself to think of the Princess in such a sinful state if he was to get a proper rest for the night.

Quickly the Prince informed the guards that no one was to disturb his rest, not even Hoseok or Aga. He also requested that someone come to collect the food and dishes from his late night meal. With that, the Prince went over to the desk and tidied up the scrolls before he blew out the candle and made his way to his sleeping chamber. The room was dark, the faint glow of the night spilled in from the window, and bathed the bed in the middle of the room in its otherworldly glow. In the center of the bed, hidden beneath the red and gold blankets was the Princess’ body.

As the Prince walked over to the bed, he noticed that the robe he gave to the Princess was hung over a chair. Her braids were once again braided into a single braid and the Princess couldn’t stop the smile that pulled at his lips. How lucky was he? He carefully lifted the blanket and slid into the bed. He shifted until he was beside the Princess and she scooted into his arms as he laid on his back. Her head found his chest and she threw a leg over his hip. Prince Yoongi wrapped his arms around the Princess and kissed her forehead.

“Goodnight, my gem.”

Night shifted into day and as the sun slowly lightened the sky, the palace started to buzz with gossip. Aga and Hoseok both opted out of training for the morning and waited outside of the Prince’s chambers. Aga’s eyes were ablaze and Hoseok wasn’t much better. Steam vapor rose from his skin and his body emitted a dim glow that resembled a flame.

“Your charge is daring.”

“...This is a first for him.”

Aga scoffed at Hoseok’s words. If Aga was to believe that the young Prince had not taken others to his chambers, Hoseok would have to try harder.

“His Highness does not allow for anyone to enter his bed chambers.” 

Hoseok felt the need to clarify and Aga grunted as he crossed his arms over his chest.

“I think His Highness has requested for another spar.”

Hoseok chuckled and nodded his head., “I think I remember him speaking on that too.”

Rushed footsteps caught the guard’s attention and Yongsun had set her sights on them with the other maidens in tow. 

“Damnit,” Hoseok cursed with a sigh and he slapped a smile on his face as Yongsun got closer. “Good morning, Yongsun! Ladies.” Hoseok bowed his head and Aga followed along silently. “To what do we owe the pleasure so early in the-”

“Has the Princess risen yet?” Yongsun cut Hoseok off and ignored him completely as she looked at Aga.

“His and Her Highness are still slumbering.” Aga kept his tone neutral as he spoke and Yongsun frowned.

“The whole palace is talking about this. It is indecent!”

“They are young and in love,” Hoseok started. “Surely you can understand that.”

Yongsun’s face flushed at Hoseok words and she shook her head vehemently. “It is indecent!”

“Yes, yes. We know.” Hoseok waved off the woman’s claims and rolled his shoulders. “Have one of your maids request breakfast for two. Her Majesty was already informed that the Princess would not join her this morning.”

Yongsun’s eyes narrowed. “This is not something that should be condoned, Hoseok!”

“The matter has already happened, Yongsun. What good would come of it if we treated them like children?”

“I agree with Hoseok,” Aga sighed with hard eyes. “Both of them are old enough to know the consequences of their actions. They will deal with said consequences once they have risen and had a proper breakfast.” Aga leveled Yongsun with a steady glare that left no room for argument. 

“Byulyi, placed an order for His and Her Highness. Make sure you make a fresh pot of puchisia tea.”

A deep growl, followed by the main doors of the Prince’s chambers being ripped open fills the hall and before anyone can fathom what happened, Yongsun was pinned to the wall by her throat by the Prince. 

“Yoongi!” Hoseok stepped forward to pull the Prince off the maid but golden eyes narrowed and the Prince snarled as he tried to get closer. Yongsun winced and whimpered as black nails dug into the tender flesh of her neck. Drops of blood bubbled to the surface and streamed down in steady lines, ruining the yellow blouse she wore. 

Black scales were splotchy over the Prince’s chest, back and arms, he clearly wasn’t himself. Hoseok and Aga shared a look as they watched Agust glare at the woman in his clutches.

“Agust let her go.” Hoseok held his arms up in front of him, palms outwards to show that he ment no harm.

“Let this wench go?” Agust tightened his hold on Yongsun’s throat and the other women started to cry. “Puchisssia was it? That’s what you wanted my Treasssure to drink?”

“Agust, it was a slip of the tongue. The Prince is a royal and so is the Princess. No one would wish to harm-”

“Liesss! She wanted to harm my Treasssure! My, my egg!”

“What is puchisia?” Aga dared ask once Agust mentioned an egg.

Hoseok shook his head and licked his lips. “It's a drink used to terminate pregnancies. Her Majesty used it when Hyungwon detected no heartbeats from her eggs before His Highness was born.”

Aga stared at Hoseok in silence before he turned his eyes to Yongsun. They kept such a thing in the palace? It was simply unheard of in the Escistan nation. Royals would have their offspring, no matter what. It was by the god’s will if the child and parent survived or not. Even still, the Princess had no use of such tea, she was untouched. And if she so happened to lose herself to the Prince’s charms, rezon tea would be the given choice as a formal contraceptive. Aga felt himself bristle at the implications of Yongsun’s words.

“My Prince?”

A voice, soft and gentle like a summer’s breeze carried on the air and caressed Agust’s ears. He growled as he heard bedding rustle and he released the foul woman from his grasp. He stepped away and glared as the woman dropped to the ground, coughing and holding her bleeding neck.

“You are dismissed from your duties. Should I find you near my Treasssure's side once more, I will not give you a sssecond chance at your miserable life!” Agust turned on his heel and walked to the main doors just as the Princess was about to step out. 

“Agust?” Princess Keena’s view was blocked but she was able to see Aga and Hoseok over Agust’s shoulders. They both looked upset and before she could question what had taken place in her absence, Agust scooped her into his arms and buried his nose in the crook of her neck as the doors to the chamber were pulled closed. “What has upset you so?” She ran her fingers through Agust’s hair and allowed him to carry her back into the bedchamber. 

Agust said nothing as he lowered her onto the bed and crawled on top. His hands grabbed at her hips and he started to lick at the side of her neck. Nimble fingers gently tugged at the hair on the nape of Agust’s neck and the Princess started to sing quietly. It was the same lullaby that she had first sung to the Prince after he had been injured by Aga. Scales scraped against her skin, cool and firm as she ran a hand up and down Agust’s spin and shoulders. His nails  pinched at her skin and dirtied the nightgown, the blood from Yongsun now embedded in the fabric.

Agust’s fangs skimmed her collarbone and he pulled his face away from her neck and chest. Inky black fought with blinding gold and the Princess cupped Agust’s face with one hand. “I am right here. I am safe.” Those words seemed to ease Agust and more of that familiar ink black bleed into his eyes. “Rest, Agust.”

“My Treasure…my-”

“Rest.” The Princess kissed Agust’s forehead and pulled him back into her arms. She tucked his head under her chin and continued to sing as she played with his hair. The black scales started to fade, black nails became clear and blunt and soon black completely covered the Prince’s iris’. The Prince mumbled something against the Princess’ neck and he pulled away, eyes dark and confused. A smile pulled at the Princess’ lips and as the Prince sat up, she followed him. “Welcome back, my Prince.”

Again she cupped his face in her hands and nuzzled their noses together before she started to nuzzle into his neck. Prince Yoongi closed his eyes and inhaled the mixture of their scents, his own hands cupped the Princess’ face and he pulled her away from his neck.

“Good morning, Princess.”

He smiled and slotted his lips against hers. The kiss was warm, wet and tasted of morning breath. As they pulled away, the Prince noticed blood underneath his fingernails. Princess Keena pulled his hands from her face and lanced their fingers together.

“Wash up first, my Prince. I will talk with Aga and Hoseok who are waiting outside.”

Prince Yoongi blinked slowly. His mind was muddled, filled with emotions that weren’t his and none of them were good. Protect. His. He wanted to keep the Princess in his bed and he couldn't understand why. 

The Princess smiled and pecked his lips. “Oh, Pallus!”

He huffed a laugh and shook his head., “Cancel your lessons.”

“My Prince?”

“Cancel your lessons. Spend the day with me.” Prince Yoongi squeezed the Princess’ hands and pulled them up to his lips. “Agust is uneasy and that rarely happens. It is an uncomfortable feeling and every fiber of my being renounces the idea of you leaving my chambers.”

“Do you think that is a wise decision, my Prince?”

“Having you here, in my sight is the only thing I care about, Princess…will you grant me this selfish request?”

Princess Keena sighed and looked out the window before she looked at the Prince with a smile. “Very well, but you better keep me entertained.”

When the doors of the Prince’s chambers reopened, the Prince stood before everyone with black eyes. His clothing had been changed but he was still dressed down in a pair of cream balloon trousers that stopped just below his knees with a sleeveless navy halter top that had a high collar around his neck with gold trim along the hemming of the arms and neck. Gold, blue and black fabric with a hexagon pattern was wrapped around his waist like a belt that hung loosely and reached mid thigh. Hoseok and Aga both eyed him wearily and the Prince sighed.

“Come in and explain what happened. Agust is not pleased but he refused to speak on the matter.” He turned his attention to the Princess’ handmaidens. “Cancel the Princess’ schedule today, she will stay under my care. I will only require two of you, I do not care which two. Pick and follow us inside.”

“Your Highness-”

The Prince shot Hoseok a firm look, his mind would not be changed and he would not entertain the idea. Hoseok sighed and followed the Prince into his chambers with Aga behind him. Aga glanced around and noticed that the Princess wasn’t present in the sitting room. The door closed behind them and Wheein and Hyejin stood with their heads bowed.

“The Princess is in my bed chamber. I have already sent for clothing to be brought in, bathe her and see to it that she is well taken care of until I can see to her myself.”

“Yes, Your Highness.” They both bowed and hurried into the Prince’s bed chamber where sure enough the Princess was sleeping once again in the middle of the bed.

The Prince motioned for Aga and Hoseok to have a set while he sat across from them on the settee. He threw his arms across the back of the settee and spread his legs, as he waited for one of the men to explain what happened. Hoseok cleared his throat and crossed his ankles before he scratched at the back of his head.

“Am I to assume that you have no memory of a few moments ago?” Hoseok questioned and the Prince nodded his head once. “Do you recall waking up this morning?”

“Yes. I woke up to relieve myself and everything after that was blank until I woke up in bed with the Princess.”

The men all froze as the Princess was led from the bed to the washing chambers and they waited until the door closed to continue their conversation. 

“Yongsun was worried about the reputation of the Princess being tarnished since the two of you are not yet wed.”

“I was the perfect gentleman.”

“I’m sure you were, Your Highness.” Hoseok’s comment was ignored as the Prince smirked and Aga grunted as his eyes narrowed. “Anyway…I advised Yongsun to have a meal prepared for both you and Her Highness. She agreed in the end, however she thought it best to have puchisia tea prepared.”

Hoseok stared at the Prince as the words left his mouth and was meant with a tense silence. 

Aga clicked his tongue and spoke up. “Did you dishonor-”

“No.” The Prince’s eyes snapped to Aga and he stared at him unblinking as he sat up. “When the Princess came to me last night, it was to keep me company. I believe she worried about me due to Namjoon’s departure.” He honestly felt no need to defend himself to Aga or anyone for that matter but he owed it to the Princess to protect her honor in place of his pride. “We shared a late night meal and chatted. It was so late in the hour that I did not feel comfortable sending the Princess away. I offered her my bed and we retired for the night.”

Prince Yoongi folded his hands in his lap and ran his tongue over his fangs. “Yongsun speaks out of turn for suggesting puchisia tea for the Princess. That is dishonoring and placing an unfavorable label on her based on what? Speculation…” The laugh that left the Prince’s mouth was anything but humorous. His eyes flashed gold for a moment before he huffed out a plume of black smoke from his nose. “Would not rezon tea be more in favor?

“I agree, Your Highness.” Aga and Hoseok shared his view, after all rezon tea was a less severe contraceptive.

 Hoseok continued. “I would think that on your way back from the washroom, you heard our voices and came to investigate. At the mention of puchisia tea, Agust took over in order to protect the Princess-”

“He said we would harm his egg.” Aga narrowed his eyes at the Prince and the Prince felt his skin heat up.

“Wishful thinking at best, I assure you.” Prince Yoongi scratched at his nose with his thumb and index finger before he sighed. “I did not touch the Princess last night nor any other time spent alone..”

“So, Agust is protective of the Princess? That is…unexpected.” Hoseok was surprised and worried. If Agust was protective, did that mean he accepted the Princess as the Prince’s wife to be or did he see a mate for himself?

A knock sounded at the main door and Hoseok called for whomever to enter. A small group of handmaids led by Byulyi entered followed by other servants that carried trays of food. Byulyi instructed the handmaids to set everything in the Prince’s bed chamber so that the Princess would have everything ready for her. Byulyi, herself carried a medium sized box into the bathing waters and soon left afterwards with the other handmaids. Prince Yoongi watched as covered trays were placed on the table before him as well as a table that was carried in. Two smaller trays were placed on the settee and the Prince waited until everyone left before he continued his conversation. 

“There was blood under my nails…is Yongsun still breathing?”

“She is,” Hoseok reassured. “You can thank the Princess for that, she woke up in time. However, Agust dismissed her and threatened to kill her if she is seen in the Palace again.”

“I will stand by Agust’s decision on Yongsun. Puchisia tea is not something to be taken lightly and the mere fact that she was willing to use such drastic measures without the Princess’ consent…she should have her head removed from her shoulders.”

“Yoongi!”

“Your Highness!”

Hoseok and Aga both speak over each other and the Prince waves them off. “I do not understand why puchisia and rezon tea were not banned from the palace. Father abolished the concubines and they were the only ones that used them to my knowledge.”

Hoseok nodded his head in agreement. “I understand, Your Highness…however, puchisia tea is used as a medical remedy.” 

“What would be medically necessary-”

“Stillbirths, Your Highness…it saves the mother the heartbreak of going through with the delivery.” Hoseok rubbed the back of his neck and jiggled his leg up and down. This is a topic that he would much rather never speak of, but the Prince needed to understand that the puchisia tea was kept in the palace for his mother’s sake. “Rezon tea is the safest day after contraceptive and it is optional.” 

Prince Yoongi took in Hoseok’s words and rubbed his temples. He remembers overhearing maids talk about his mother’s stillbirths when he was a child. He didn’t understand but as he got older it made more sense. To save his mother from the heartbreak of delivering babies that would never take a breath, she drank puchisia tea and delivered the eggs. The Prince chewed on the inside of his cheek and scratched the tip of his nose with his thumb and index finger, there would always be a need for puchisia tea.

“I understand, Hoseok. It is necessary for the wellbeing of the parents. See to it that Yongsun is dismissed from the palace for her own safety and make sure no rumor of such a degree starts in or out of the palace.”

“As you wish, Your Highness.”

Hoseok and Aga both bowed their heads and left before the Princess came out of the bathing chamber. The Prince sighed and pinched the bridge of his nose in annoyance. Kim Yongsun was a name he refused to forget for she was the woman who put the Princess’ reputation on the line with careless words. 

In the bathing waters, Princess Keena questioned Wheein and Hyejin on how their night went without her. She knew that Yongsun would have thrown a fit but she had enjoyed her time spent by the Prince’s side. Wheein informed the Princess that it was an uneventful night for the most part. The guards and the maids got together and enjoyed a few drinks before they all turned in for the night. Hyejin was honest and confirmed Yongsun’s displeasure and spoke of the events that took place outside of the Prince’s chambers. The Princess was shocked. Not only had Yongsun thought so poorly of her but she would have given puchisia tea to her and said nothing. The Princess felt violated, she wished for Yongsun to be dismissed from her side right away.

“Princess…you do not have to worry about that. His Highness dismissed Yongsun the moment she suggested the tea.” Hyejin’s voice was reassuring as she spoke and Wheein nodded in agreement.

“She was dismissed?” The Princess stared at the older women with wide eyes. 

“It is okay, Princess. Byulyi will become the head attendant and if we need to bring in another hand, there are options.”

“She was your friend, was she not? How can you still be so kind to me?”

Wheein and Hyejin smiled at the Princess with warm eyes and tender touches as they helped her out of the bathing waters. 

“We will miss Yongsun, please do not misunderstand our feelings-” Hyejin started as she patted the water from the Princess’ body with a light blue towel.

“But in our line of work, people have been dismissed for less. Youngsun is our friend but she is solely responsible for her words and actions.” Wheein explained as she slipped a cream and yellow silk dressing robe onto the Princess’ shoulders. She quickly tied a knot around her waist and placed slippers down on the floor. Once the Princess had her slippers on, she was led out of the bathing chambers and hurried into the Prince’s to get dressed. The sun had risen a bit more, the sky was more blue as the early morning sherbet slowly faded.

A wooden mannequin stood dressed in an olive buba - blouse - that had short bell sleeves with white scalloped lace on the ends. The iro - wrapper skirt - was a mix of peach, sand, white and olive and the Princess loved the colors. The outfit was dressed down, it wasn’t a complete iro ati buba and gave the Princess more freedom to lounge around. The Princess was led towards the vanity and she shook her head.

“I will wear my hair down for today.”

Hyejin smiled and nodded her head. “As you wish, Princess.”

The Princess stood behind the partition and unknotted her robe while Wheein and Hyejin gathered the clothing from the mannequin. She rolled her shoulders back and the robe fell to the floor in a small pile at her feet. Wheein excused herself to grab body oils and creams quickly to rub into the Princess’ skin and while she did that Hyejin fussed with which shoes the Princess should wear. Once the oils and creams were smoothed into her skin, the Princess was dressed and stepped into a simple pair of cranberry sandals left her toes exposed. As she was about to leave the Prince’s sleeping chamber, Hyejin held up a cranberry red ribbon and motioned to the Princess’ hair.

“To keep it out of your face while you eat, Princess.” Hyejin pulled the Princess’ braids over her shoulders and wrapped the ribbon around them, low at the base of the Princess’ neck before she tied it semi-tightly in a cute bow. “All set, Princess!”

In the palace, Empress Min frowned as Yongsun cried in front of her. Guards led the woman to the Empress’ sitting room the moment the Prince dismissed her and now she was crying in front of the only woman in the palace who would protect her. Empress Min took a sip of her tea and sighed as she placed the cup on the table in front of her.

“Please stop crying, Yongsun, it isn’t becoming of a woman.” Empress Min tapped her nails on the table top and thought over the situation. “You have angered my son’s animal spirit, do you understand the meaning of that, Yongsun?”

“Please your Majesty! I didn’t not mean to offend his Highness!” Yongsun sobbed and the Empress clicked her tongue.

“There are multiple witnesses stating that you threatened the life of an unborn royal…regardless if there is an egg or not, your words are high treason.”

“No! Your Majesty, that is not what I meant! I only wished to maintain-”

“Do you understand the gravity of your actions? What your actions imply about the relationship between the Prince and Princess...do you understand nothing?” The Empress raised an eyebrow as she stared at Yongsun. “Was the Princess aware of your intentions? Did she give consent to drinking the tea? Did she request the tea herself?”

“Your Majesty?”

Empress Min’s eyes flash gold as she glared at the head maid. So, Yongsun had never spoken with the Princess about the puchisia tea? Empress Min felt her own dragon curl deep in her stomach and dig its claws into her womb. “You thought it acceptable to forgo the consent of the Princess for what reason? Who are you to control that outcome?” The Empress’ words were growled as grey scales started to spread up the length of her neck. “On whose authority did you act upon? Clearly not mine!”

“N-No, Your Majesty! N-Never, I n-never acted-”

“You did not think!” The Empress’ word echoed in the room, loud and harsh as she placed a hand protectively over her stomach. “It has and always will be the Princess’ choice if she were to ever require the use of puchisia tea. You have shamed the crown!” 

The Empress started to list off the transgressions that Yungsun committed. “You acted without the Princess’ consent.” She held up one finger. “You implied that the Princess conceived a child out of wedlock. You implied that the Princess was impure and you implied that they wished to terminate an heir…do you understand what you have done?!”

Yungsun glanced at the four fingers and bowed low as sobbed, “Forgive me, Your Majesty. It was a hasty decision!”

“Kim Yongsun.” Empress Min’s frown deepened as she stared at the young woman before her. “You have served me well in your time here within the palace. You carried out your orders and kept me informed of the Princess’ whereabouts and doings while she was here but for your crime against the Princess, I cannot ignore the crown Prince’s decision.”

Yongsun cried harder, her face blotchy as she bowed lower on the ground, her forehead touched the ground as she begged for forgiveness. 

“You are hereby stripped of your title as lead attendant and banished from the palace. For all your efforts and time spent serving the crown, I will not have you executed and you will be sent to Blencalgo to live out the rest of your days in peace with compensation.”

“Your Majesty!” Yongsun cried and Empress Min nodded her head at the guards nearby.

“You will do well to remember that I have eyes and ears everywhere. If you so much as think of  tarnishing the Princess’ good name, I will send you to hell myself.” The Empress’ eyes flashed a stunning gold and narrowed as Yongsun was dragged away kicking and screaming. Empress Min turned her attention to one of her guards and he bowed his head. “Inform the guards of the butterfly house of Yongsun’s dismissal. Make sure they watch her pack, so that she doesn’t take anything that doesn’t belong to her.”

“Yes, Your Majesty.” 

Prince Yoongi and Princess Keena spent the whole day together, locked away in the Prince’s living chambers. They lounged on the settee, wrapped in each other’s arms, sat by the window and enjoyed the sunbeams that warmed their skin, read out loud from different books, shared stories of their childhoods and the Princess even twisted together a few braids into the Prince’s hair and decorated them with jewels and beads. Later in the evening, as the Princess started to prepare herself to leave, Prince Yoongi dismissed her handmaids into the sitting room. 

Alone in his bed chambers, the Princess sat in front of the vanity and the Prince stood behind her with shining eyes. His hands were gentle as he caressed the Princess’ neck and threaded his fingers into the braids that hung from her low ponytail. He tugged lightly at the thick braids and the Princess’ head tilted back. Their eyes locked and the Prince pouted as he traced over the Princess’ face with his eyes.

“Pallas?”

He chuckled at the name which he knew was the Princess’ own term of endearment and leaned down. His lips pressed to the Princess’. The kiss was slow and precious, a candy-coated promise of better tomorrows and a loving forever. As his lips lingered, the Prince smiled against the Princess’ lips and he nipped at the tender flesh.

“I wish to keep you here by my side. It unsettles me knowing you are not within my arm’s reach.”

“Would you have me locked away forever, my Prince? Hidden for all to see?”

He pulled away from the Princess’ face and released his grip of her hair before he untied the bow around her braids.

“As tempting as that sounds,” his words were a low hum, a growl that tapered off into a pleased purr. “I would much rather have the pleasure of knowing it is my arms and my arms only that hold you at night.”

His fingers gathered the Princess’ hair all in one hand and the Princess was impressed. She knew that his hands were large but it was this simple show of just how large they were that made the Princess bite her lip and break eye contact. 

“Will you come back to the palace while Jungkook paints the butterfly house?”

“I had not given it much thought.”

The Prince slowly twisted the ribbon around his hand and tied a neat bow around the Princess’ hair. The ponytail sat high on the Princess’ head but Prince Yoongi wasn’t finished. Carefully, he twined the loose braids together into a single twist and wrapped it into a bun, where he tucked the ends into the ribbon and placed his hands on the Princess’ shoulders. His hands were covered by the Princess’ and he stared down at the golden rings that shone on her right index finger.

“You have a new room here in the palace. It is in this wing, three doors down from here.”

“And when was that change made?”

The Prince felt his neck and face heat up as his eyes meant the Princess in the mirror. “After the audience with my parents…”

The Princess laughed as she squeezed his hands and slowly stood from her seat in front of the vanity. Turning around, the Princess wrapped her arms around the Prince’s shoulders and he easily pulled her into his arms.

“Should I stay one more night, my Prince? Give everyone enough time to move a few of my things into my new room?” Her fingers tugged gently at the hair on the nape of his neck and the Prince nodded his head as his fingers squeezed the Princess’ waist. 

“If that is your wish, I will grant it.” A smirk pulled at the Prince’s lips and the Princess sighed as she rested her forehead against his chest. 

“How can I refuse such words?”

As night fell, the young royals were stripped of their loungewear and dressed in their sleep attire. Prince Yoongi sighed as he was dressed in a flowing white hanfu. The main robe was a white silk cross collar with light blue water strokes and large silver water lilies with red centers along the skirt. The outer robe was pure white with faint blue and silver water strokes along the sleeves. The Prince’s hair was piled high on his head, pulled from his face and held in place by a silver donggot that had a white dragon with golden eyes on the end. This was not the Prince’s normal sleep attire and he cursed the attendants that dressed him. He fought to wear a simple pair of sleep trousers but they refused his request as per the old customs. It was an insane notion to the Prince. He was not yet wed to the Princess, yet it seemed like the whole palace wished for them to consummate ahead of time.

The Prince rested in the sitting room with a book clutched in his hand as he waited for the Princess to join him. He was sure that her attendants had dressed her in something outrageous, much like his own attire, and he hoped that she wouldn’t be upset with him. 

As the Prince tried to focus on the words of the book, light footfalls caught his attention and he felt all the air leave his lungs. There by his desk, the Princess stood bathed in the ever warm light of a few sunstones. Her hair was styled into five bantu knots in front with the back birds twisted into intricate loops that connected to each knot. Small gold clips with four inch ropes of diamonds were fastened to the center of each loop and dangled freely.

Her face was free of makeup, neck and decolletage fully exposed in the strapless nightgown that adorned her body. It was two toned chiffon, the bust a pale white with small pink and pure white flowers embroidered on the front while the skirt started just under the bust, a pale sugar cookie that reached the tips of her toes. A silk robe was placed over top, pale white in color with brown vines and leaves all over the fabric. The sleeves were wide and had a thick pink band wrapped around the ends of the sleeves with small pure white flowers that matched those on the nightgown.

“You will catch a fly if your mouth opens any farther,” the Princess spoke with a teasing tone as she smiled and the Prince’s mouth snapped closed. He sat up from where he laid and placed the book down on the table top. He slowly stood from his seat and met the Princess half way across the room.

“You truly are a vision, a goddess indeed-”

“Hush, you speak too much.” The Princess raised a hand and placed a finger against the Prince’s lips.

He kissed her finger and carefully wrapped his own fingers around her hand before he pulled it down to rest against his chest, above his heart.

“I want to worship you.”

“My Prince…” She had no words. No way to tell the Prince that she was no goddess, only a simple human blessed by the blood in her veins.

“Now you hush, my gem. Allow me to worship you, like the stars worship the moon.”

The Princess yelped and giggled in surprise as the Prince scooped her into his arms and carried her over to the settee. The maids hurried out of his chambers and shut the door behind them as the Prince lowered the Princess down. He sat with her feet in his lap and removed her slippers before he started to knead her left foot in his hands. The Princess whined and melted into the arm of the settee. The Prince’s touch was strong, he added just the right amount of pressure to her foot. As the Princess started to turn to mush in his hands, he smirked to himself and slid his hands upwards to her calves. The Princess jumped at the touch but groaned as the tender muscles were rubbed and squeezed so perfectly. 

“Are you feeling less worried?”

It took a moment for the Princess to realize that the Prince had asked her question and she blinked at him confused which made him laugh.

“I will take your silence as a yes.”

The Princess hummed in content and wiggled down farther into the settee. Her knees now rested in the Prince’s lap and he drew invisible shapes on the skin of her lower legs as they peeked out from the folds of her skirt. 

“I wanted to thank you, Princess.” He glanced at her tired face and continued to speak softly. “You risked your reputation to appease Agust and my own selfish desire to keep you by my side…I cannot fathom the storm Aga and Hoseok are creating for me.” His hands squeezed at the legs in his lap and he started to massage the Princess’ feet once more.

“Here in the palace, I was lonely. I had Hoseok, Namjoon and Seokjin but once we came of age, there was a subtle shift in our friendship. It was to be expected but still…I do miss the old days when we had more freedom.” His fingers worked with a mind of their own as he spoke. “Your letters showed me that I wasn’t truly alone. I had someone who understood my worries and pain. You told me that I felt, was valid and it made me think differently.”

The Prince glanced at the Princess and he noticed that her eyes were closed, her breath was shallow and he clicked his tongue. Carefully, the Prince stood from the settee and lifted the Princess into his arms. With her cradled to his chest, the Prince made his way to his bed and laid her down. As he stared down at her, his heart clenched with more love than he had ever felt before. He reached out and slowly removed the tiny pins from the Princess’ hair and set them on the vanity before he removed his own hair accessories. Once his hair fell down his back, the Prince crawled into bed and laid beside the Princess. His eyes drank in her sleeping form, she was beautiful. The silver glow of the moon painted her brown skin in an ethereal halo that seemed to somehow come from outside as well as within.

It was a sight that the Prince would never forget and always be thankful for. His gem, glowing and at peace…a dream that he would surely recreate over and over while he slept. He pressed a faint kiss to her lips and settled beside her.

“Goodnight, my gem.”

The sound of the main doors of the Prince’s chambers bounded off the walls and woke the Prince and Princess up. Gold and silver eyes narrowed at the door that granted access to his room and voices were shouting.

“Yoongi!”

“Yoongi!”

Gold eyes faded to black as the sounds of his friend’s distressed shouts filled the air. The Prince scrambled out of bed and he shot the Princess a quick glance before he hurried out of the room, his slippers still at the side of his bed. Princess Keena pulled herself from the bed and before her feet touched the ground, the Prince had stormed back into the room, his outer robe no longer on his shoulders. His eyes were wild, gold and black fading in and out like a tide as he started to strip himself of his clothing.

“What happened? What is wrong?” Princess Keena’s voice was worried as she watched the Prince quickly throw on a black robe with a large golden three toed dragon on the front. 

“N-Namjoon needs help.” 

The Prince’s words were rushed as he hurriedly dressed himself as maids ran into the room ready to dress him. He waved them off and pulled his hair into a messy bun before he looked over at the Princess who was frozen by the side of the bed. His face dropped and he walked over to her before he pulled the Princess into his arms. He smoothed his hands down her back and kissed her temple.

“I will bring Namjoon home safely. I promise…” He held the Princess’s arms in his hands and stared into her brown eyes that had a hint of silver around the edges. “Stay here. Do not come up until I return, okay?” The Prince growled and narrowed his eyes at the Princess’ silence. “Keena! Do you understand? Stay here.”

The Princess seemed to pull out of whatever hell she had created in her mind and she stared at the Prince with wide eyes. “Y-Yes, my Prince. I’ll wait for your return…go, please! Help Namjoon!” She hugged the Prince tightly and he squeezed her just as tightly before he pulled back and crashed his lips into hers.

“Aga will stay with you as well as your maids until my return.”

“Go! Go, my Prince!” She pushed him away and before the Prince could leave his room, Hoseok came in with a handful of attendants behind him.

“Your Highness, I understand the urgency of this situation. However-”

“Get out of the way, Lieutenant!”

“You cannot go outside like this. You need to be fully dressed and your hair is a mess.” Hoseok moved so that the attendants could enter the bed chambers and the Prince growled. “They will be quick. You are halfway dressed as is.” Hoseok turned his attention to the Princess and extended his hand. “Why don’t you eat something light this morning, Princess? I am sure with such news your stomach must be in knots.” Hoseok easily led the Princess from the Prince’s bed chambers and sat her down on the settee where a spread of light food was laid out on the table. 

In the Prince’s room, he grumbled and hissed at the attendants as they dressed him properly in his black and gold hanbok. His hair was brushed neatly into a bun and the golden sangtugwan that was placed over top was covered with beautiful quartz stone while a golden dragon with emerald eyes was carved into the donggot. He was a picture of power, dark and brooding with golden black eyes. As he stepped out of his chambers, the Prince eyed the Princess as she picked at the fruit in front of her.

“Make sure to eat well, my gem.” His voice carried across the room and as he closed the distance, the Princess stood from the settee. “We will be back soon.” 

He pressed his lips to her forehead and the Princess chipped sadly. Her tangerine scent was rotten and honey burnt, a sign of distress. Prince Yoongi nuzzled their noses together and kissed a wet path from her jaw to her neck where the scent was stronger. Without a second thought for anyone in the room, he licked at the scent gland five times. On the sixth lick, the Princess’ scent sweetened again and he purred low in his throat. 

“Stay well, Princess.” A quick peck to her lips and before he could step away the Princess grabbed at his robes and pulled him closer.

The kiss was rushed, more spit than anything as the young royals tried to commit each other's taste to memory.

Hoseok cleared his throat loudly and the Prince pulled away. His eyes fully golden and patches of black scales started to form under his robes. The Princess stared into Agust’s eyes and cupped his face.

“You keep him safe, Agust and bring everyone home.”

Agust huffed at the order but nodded his head once. “As you wish, Treasure.”