Pi Gasu | Divine Sinner
Pairing - jungkook x reader
Genre - smut, angst, E2L, vampire!jungkook
Word Count - 4.5k
It doesn’t take long for you to realise that vampires are just assholes with fangs. Warnings: swearing, mentions of blood, violence, drugs, sex and insecurity
SERIES COLLECTION | VISUALS
“Name?”
“Y/N.”
“What’s the reason you’re applying to be a donor?” The man’s voice down the phone is low and absent, as though he’s done this countless times before and you’re just another part of his mundane day.
Pausing, you ponder. What is the reason you’re applying to be a donor? Everybody in their right mind knows that vampires are dangerous, they’re born killers. Well bitten killers, since their species were once human until they were turned. Truthfully you’ve been considering doing this for a while now, a girl at college casually threw into conversation how much money she makes in this secret business hidden behind the ruse of a strip club. Actually, you haven’t seen her in a while…
It’s genius really, whoever came up with that idea is one smart cookie. Strip clubs are shady at the best of times, it’s almost too obvious to have an underground business there. Nobody would ever think to check. The truth is you just need the money. But as you’ve come to learn, it’s very exclusive and difficult to get into.
You sigh, tapping fingernails against your phone that’s pressed against your ear. “I… I need the money.”
“Are you taking any blood thinning medications?”
The question leaves a sour taste on your tongue, winning you to bite back a grimace. “No.”
“Do you take any illegal substances?” The man sounds bored, you can’t help but notice. You wonder how many applicants they must receive and speak with, since not many people know about this place as far as you’re aware.
“No.”
“Any history of sexually transmitted diseases or HIV?”
You frown, “No.”
“When was the last time you were screened for such diseases?”
Tonguing your cheek you can’t ignore the disgust lingering in your veins, “This year, I’m clean. I don’t see how that’s relevant though since I’m not applying to have sex with anyone.”
A deep throaty chuckle fills the silence down the line, “Have you ever donated before?”
“No.” You roll your eyes, growing impatient.
There’s a brief pause when the man clicks his tongue, he sounds much more invested in this conversation than he did twenty seconds ago. “So have you ever been bitten?”
“No, never.”
It’s no secret that there are good vampires and bad vampires in the world, much like there are good people and bad people. The good vampires will go to the hospital once a month for a supply of blood bags, doing everything by the book as a way to avoid being executed.
The bad vampires however, though they’re pretty rare these days, will attack humans as they please. Killing some, maiming others, maybe even turning a couple of humans here and there. All of which is illegal. But vampire attacks do happen, and statistically speaking young women are usually their bread and butter, a categoric blanket that covers both your gender and age group. At least six girls at college have had their own nightmarish experience with a vampire that you know of.
Thankfully you’ve never encountered such horrors.
Maybe that’s why you’re willing to consent to giving blood fresh from your veins to one of their kind, because you don’t know the reality of what it’s like to be bitten. But you do know the harsh reality of humanity and all the hardships it brings, which is precisely why you’ll do just about anything for cash right now. You need to, before it’s too late.
“So… How much does this pay exactly?” You gnaw your lip nervously, dragging yourself from your own depressing train of thought.
The man clears his throat, “Once we receive proof that you’re not lying about your medical history you’ll get an upfront payment of one thousand. Think of it like an honesty bonus. Then depending how in demand you are at the club when you start, you can earn anything from one thousand per client. If you’re really in demand you can charge as much as you’d like.”
“So do you need me to send my medical records—”
“We’ll take care of it from our end. Once that’s done I’ll be in touch.” The way his voice threateningly lowers an octave makes every hair on your body stand to attention, but you find a way to push through the anxiety. “It’s safer for you to keep this to yourself by the way. Trust me.”
“Of course.” You exhale nervously. “And what’s your name please?”
“Namjoon. Speak soon love.”
Just like that the conversation is over as quickly as it began.
It’s Friday morning the next time you hear from Namjoon, he sends you a small text message that makes your blood run cold as soon as you read it.
Namjoon: Everything is in order, we’ll pick you up at nine. Welcome to Euphoria
Concentration isn’t something you’re capable of for the rest of the day. Your mind solely fixated on what could possibly happen tonight. You’ve never seen a vampire in the flesh before, much less allowed one to drink from you. Will it hurt? What if they lose control and kill you? You’re a mess, simultaneously regretting this decision and knowing you’d be a fool to turn down that kind of money right now.
Thankfully you live alone in a small apartment thirty minutes away from campus, meaning you’re free to rush around your bedroom as noisily as possible while you find something to wear. It’s a strip club. Something slutty would be the obvious choice. But then what if vampires don’t like that… You scoff, kicking your head back with a frustrated groan while raking through the depths of your wardrobe. What do they like? And where do vampires even drink from? The neck? The wrist? The thigh? Anywhere? You swallow uncomfortably.
What the fuck have you gotten yourself into.
After settling on a little black dress that’s proven to be popular amongst your male peers at frat parties, you sigh and lock your door. To say you’re anxious would be the understatement of the century. The tallest stilettos you own pinch your feet as you make your way down to the front of the building. It’s nine pm on the dot when a large black car with blacked out windows pulls up to where you’re standing.
The drivers window rolls down, revealing… exactly what you expected. It’s a man who looks to be in his mid-twenties, the tanned skin of his youthful face glows beautifully beneath the moonlight. It’s his teeth and smile that win your attention first, you don’t see any obvious fangs but he looks… sinister. The black turtleneck he wears draws attention to his angled jawline. His hair is smoky grey, parted in the middle exposing his thick brows which draw your focus to his hooded crescent moon-like eyes that are already stuck on you.
“Are you Y/N?” He sounds equally as malevolent as he appears, your heart already thumping hard in your chest with fear.
You nod, and his grin widens.
“Get in.”
Another man walks round the car, having just slid out of the passenger side. He pulls the back door open for you and you don’t miss the way his Adam’s apple bobs in his thick neck when he watches you clamber into the vehicle. Albeit not very elegantly, pulling your dress down to cover what little dignity remains.
“Nice to see you’ve dressed up for the occasion love.” The man, who from his voice and eerie pet name you recognise as Namjoon chuckles. Locking you inside.
Namjoon looks to be around the same age as the designated driver, perhaps a year or two older at most. His hair is also dyed you notice, mousy brown and pushed back at the hairline with shaved short sides above the ears which gives him a smart, almost sexy businessman-like appeal. If it wasn’t for the soft dimples piercing his cheeks when he spoke and smiled you’d find him equally as threatening as the other man. Maybe more so, since he’s wearing a full suit and you get the feeling he’s… important.
The driver’s brows furrow when he turns to watch you in the backseat, nostrils flared and eyes darkening with something that intimidates you further. When Namjoon clicks himself into the passenger side in front of you he does the self and same thing. Slowly craning his neck to get a better look at you, intrigued. Both men are staring at you intensely, earning you to awkwardly clear your throat which thankfully snaps them out of whatever the hell just happened.
Namjoon’s tongue clicks the roof of his mouth with curious features when the driver finally starts the engine. “I’m Namjoon, we spoke on the phone… This-“ He plants a firm hand on the other man’s shoulder, “Is Jimin.”
“Hi.” Is all you manage to choke out, since the windows are stained black you’ve no idea where you’re going – which only increases your growing concern. It feels as though moths are eating their way thought your stomach lining with each moment that passes.
“Hi.” Jimin grins, gaze briefly flickering to the rear-view mirror to watch you again.
“So…” You puff out your cheeks awkwardly, twiddling your thumbs, “Are you two—”
“Mhm.” Jimin hums rather smugly, “We are. Everybody you’ll meet tonight will be too, so if I were you I’d get used to it now while there’s only two of us here.”
“I see.”
Namjoon looks physically uncomfortable, rolling down his window some for fresh air. You don’t recognise what little road and city you can make out from the backseat, further amplifying your nerves. Perhaps you’ve made a mistake.
You’ve only met two vampires in your entire life and they happen to be driving you seemingly miles away, and they’re intense. Very intense. The atmosphere in the car is like nothing you’ve ever experienced before. How the fuck are you going to be able to donate to one of these… things, without getting yourself killed?
“Do you have any air freshener in here?” Namjoon asks while he’s already searching the glovebox with a tight set jaw.
Jimin snorts, flashing that sinister smile once again when his eyes catch yours in the mirror. “If I did don’t you think I would’ve used it by now?”
“Open your window then, I can’t fucking breathe in here.”
The driver rolls his eyes but obliges, until the wind is deep in your hair are the car speeds down another dimly lit street you don’t recognise. It’s freezing now, you don’t understand the sudden tension and need for fresh air but it’s making your bones shiver.
Jimin coughs before wetting his lips, turning the vehicle round a sharp corner. “You’ve never donated before, right?”
From the backseat you shake your head, feigning confidence when in reality you’re scared shitless of them. “That’s right. I’ve never been bitten either.”
Pained laughter rolls off the grey-haired man’s tongue, briefly squeezing his eyes shut as though he can’t believe what he’s hearing. “Hope you don’t have plans for the next few days, cause you’re gonna be sore as hell tomorrow.”
You swallow, “Sore…?”
Namjoon smiles, his once friendly looking dimples now feel nothing but menacing. “Our boss will go over everything with you soon. But he’s right, you should cancel any upcoming plans. You’ll thank us later.”
“Reckon Guk will give us a staff discount?” Jimin’s brow quirks when the car slows down, signalling you’ve arrived. Namjoon chuckles but doesn’t answer him, provoking the driver to speak up again, “Like you wouldn’t be interested if he said we could.”
“That’s if he even lets her donate… Something tells me we might be driving you home pretty soon Y/N.” He’s laughing and you get the impression the pair are mocking you right to your face.
“He’d be an idiot to send her home, think of the money she’ll make.”
“Does money outweigh the risks? I’ve never known... Well you know.”
“Mmm. Guess it’s up to the big guy himself from here, we’ve done our bit.”
Are you not good enough for them? Are you somehow different to their usual… donors? Your self-esteem takes a hit when Jimin parks the car, briefly glancing at the length of your dress before shaking his head with a mild smile. You press your legs together to shield yourself from his gaze but it’s too late, he’s chuckling to himself when he unclicks his seatbelt.
When you step out of the car it’s clear you’ve arrived. Euphoria. That’s the name of the strip club, it’s red neon sign looks almost… classy, in comparison to how you thought a strip club would look. And the interior is no different once you’re inside. Everything in here seems luxurious, expensive, elegantly eccentric and niche but it’s not too much. It all kind of makes perfect sense to you. You don’t have time to drink in your surroundings properly because soon Jimin’s harshly gripping your wrist and tugging you into his toned chest.
“I-, Sorry.” He exhales before wetting his plump lips, pushing you away with some force, chest noticeably heaving up and down with each ragged breath.
“Keep it together. You good?” Namjoon asks, concerned gaze flickering between you and Jimin who look equally as shocked as each other right now. What the fuck was that? Did he just blindside you? For what?
“I’m fine…” You mumble, though your increasing heartrate may prove otherwise.
“Jimin take her downstairs, I’m gonna warn Seokjin. Try not to kill her.”
Being vampires they must be able to sense you’re nervous, right? They must know you’re scared shitless, it’s blatantly obvious at this point. The money. That’s all you’re here for. Money. You’ll donate blood to however many vampires you can to get as much money as you need. And then this will be over. You’ll be here for a couple months tops, is what you convince yourself in that moment. It’ll be fine. You mentally repeat those words over and over like your own personal mantra.
Soon you’re being lead into a dimly lit room where you’re told the boss of this place will come down and go over everything with you as a group. You and the other new donors. There are five men here whose names you can’t remember already, your mind being somewhat occupied on the tensity of the situation you’ve put yourself in. There’s another girl too, she looks around your age and you think she said her name is Betty. Thankfully Namjoon seated you next to her when he came back, in the centre of the room that looks to be a private study.
Betty is wearing a short wine coloured PVC dress that screams equal parts 90’s Pamela Anderson and ‘I work at a strip club’. She looks amazing, her boobs are huge and pushed all the way up to her collarbones, choppy dark hair grazes her shoulders lightly when she plays with it. She’s the embodiment of female empowerment, she’s so sexy. You can’t help but feel a little self-conscious in her presence.
“Well well well, who do we have here?” A third vampire enters the room. You recognise he’s not human because he looks similar to Jimin and Namjoon. The flawless glowing skin, the darkness behind his eyes. That evil smile. Even his voice sounds sinister.
“I’m Betty!” The girl next to you grins, noticeably ogling the newcomer. And who could blame her? He’s… unreal.
The nameless vampire is blonde, which contrasts beautifully against his tanned skin. His eyes are feline-like and swimming with seduction when he drags them up and down your seated frame. It’s intense. He’s intense. His plump lips are ever so slightly ajar before they break into a somewhat bloodthirsty looking smirk. A black suit jacket with gold detailing clings to his tall frame when he leans against the door he’s just closed, pulling a cherry lollipop from his pocket and salaciously swirling his tongue around it before it winds up between his teeth.
After the longest minute of your life he peels his gaze away from you, turning his attention to the girl beside you. “Nice to meet you Betty, I’m Taehyung.” He audibly cracks his neck, taking the lollipop from his mouth and gesturing to you with it, “I this little dress of yours… You smell to die f—”
“Don’t.” Namjoon warns him from the corner of the room with folded arms and a hot-tempered expression.
At this the blonde vampire quickly raises his brows, making his way over to the dimpled man. “You’re telling me I’m the only one who can—”
“You’re not. Trust me, you’re not.” Jimin chuckles from the other side of the room while he adjusts the neckline of his sweater, though his features are crumpled with discomfort.
Nothing makes sense here. All you know is that this is the most confused and uncomfortable you’ve ever felt in your whole life. Every pair of eyes in the room are trained to you, making you feel smaller than small beneath their judgemental gazes. Even Betty is looking at you with something akin to disgust tugging her red glossy lips down. To say you feel self-conscious would be significantly dumbing it down. You feel… Like this was a mistake.
The door you initially entered opens slowly, revealing two more vampires.
They’re even more beautiful than the others, both of them have striking visuals that have sweat beading down the spans of your exposed back. They’re both stunning, like something straight from a romance novel where the male love interest is described to be perfect in every single way. They’re perfect. Actually perfect, it’s sickening. But one of them catches your eye more than the other, and he’s already staring back at you. Intensely, because apparently that’s the only way vampires look at you.
“You. What’s your name?” He barks, voice venomous and dripping with hatred.
Judging by his obvious dominance he’s the boss around here. All eyes are now trained on him as opposed to you, which you’re thankful for. His hair is long, coming down to his nose, it’s parted in the middle and black in colour, messily tickling his hooded eyes that continue to stare you down. The curve of his nose is the softest feature on his face, winning you to look there instead of directly in the fire of his unwavering gaze. His jaw looks tight enough to break, his lips are parted but reveal no trace of emotion. His shoulders are broad enough to have the material of his black shirt threaten to tear. He’s in great shape, he looks strong. A lot stronger than the others. And a hell of a lot stronger than you.
His line of vision drops to your frame, for a moment it looks as though he’s ogling your body beneath the coal fabric of your mini dress before he turns away from you. Thank god. You offer a small closed smile, hoping your shaky breaths don’t betray you and you’re able to speak without trembling. He looks terrifying, like he’d kill you in an instant without a second of hesitation. The way he makes you so nervous and frightened is a cold reminder of what this place is. And who he is.
What he is.
“Y/N.”
The boss wets his lips, earning you to notice the small silver lip ring to the right corner of his mouth. His neck, hands, actually all the exposed skin he’s displaying is littered with dark permanent artwork. Including the two tiny script face tattoos you can’t quite read that sit underneath each of his haunted eyes.
“Follow me.” He turns on his heel, facing the other eerily beautiful vampire he appeared with. You can’t help but notice anger still lingers in his words, he’s no closer to calming down. Unless he’s just always like that. “Go through everything with the donors, I’ll be back soon.”
The other man simply nods, and soon you’re being escorted up a stairwell that glows red from the crimson tube lights that lead the way. You make sure to keep your distance from the boss and ask him no questions, a fraction of reassurance that he won’t kill you if you don’t provoke him. This was definitely a mistake. Maybe you can find the money somewhere else? Perhaps you could go work in a normal strip club? Even McDonald’s sounds better than this place right now. And safer. Definitely safer.
“In here.” His voice is low and gruff, agitated, when he pushes open a door that seems to be the furthest away from the entrance to the building. He must be able to sense how scared you are, how on edge this entire situation makes you.
But you still don’t say a single word – simply head into the room that you quickly register is an office of some sorts. Though it looks more like a hidden library in a gentleman’s club, it’s huge, and the walls are adorned with books that look older than time itself. There’s a fireplace in here too, the crackling sounds are deafening in the otherwise silent room. Two mahogany leather sofas sit in front of the fire, facing each other a good few meters away from the desk. You turn and peer up at who you can only assume is the owner of this place, he’s so tall that he towers over you, even with your painful stilettos.
“Sit.” His stare manages to snap away from you for a split second to one of the sofas, and you don’t talk back despite the fact he’s just spoken to you how an owner would treat their pet. You sit down, tugging your dress as far down your legs as much as the material will allow.
And then he closes the door, trapping you both inside, the little optimism you had toward the situation quickly vanishing. The man makes his way over within a few resentful steps, until he’s sitting opposite you and you’re the only thing he’s focussed on. With flared nostrils and tightly balled inked fists he finally speaks, more than two words this time.
“Are you trying to get yourself killed?”
“W-what?” You blink, taken aback by his sudden interest in your safety when you don’t even know his name. “No… I came here—”
“To be a donor. I know.” He rubs his face hard enough to bruise. “You haven’t donated before?”
“No, this will be my first time… I’ve never even been bitten.”
The man inhales sharply, sinking back into the sofa with his eyes squeezed shut and features contorted with something akin to pain. He looks so angry, so hostile, so… inhumane. Yet so beautiful all at once. His eyes are still closed when his tongue clacks against the roof of his mouth, allowing you a moment of time to concentrate on the words tattooed underneath them.
Divine. Sinner.
A contradiction in itself. He doesn’t give you long to ponder it though because when his eyes snap open they’re already on you, and you look away.
“You don’t belong here.”
“I’m desperate for the money.” You say, almost argumentatively which seems to amuse him because he smirks.
“So desperate that you’d risk your life?”
“Yes…” Your exhale is shaky, but the impatience on your face is too noticeable for him to miss. “Do you interrogate all your donors?”
“Would it make you feel more comfortable if I said yes?”
You nod, “It would.”
“Well then I’m sorry to inform you that’s not the case.” He bares his white teeth for a split second, before resetting his features to his default brooding vampire mode.
“Why am I in here with you when the other donors are downstairs?”
He pauses, making a tsk sound between his teeth and tongue. “I told you, you don’t belong here. You being here is going to end up with you getting killed, or worse.”
“What could possibly be worse than death?” You swallow, nervously playing with the hem of your dress.
At this he watches you again, even closer, more intimately despite the fact there’s a significant distance and a roaring fire between you. It’s when he tongues the inside of his cheek with a quirked brow that you begin to feel self-conscious again. Are you seriously not up to his standards? Blood is just blood, right? You sigh irritatedly, making sure to look him dead in the eye when a surge of empowerment washes over you. Fuck these guys, assholes.
“Look if I’m not good enough for you that’s fine, you don’t need to beat around the bush,” You spit, which visibly surprises the man, “I’ll take my one thousand dollars for the medical record check and be on my way.”
He’s still smirking, and you hate yourself for how alluring you find it. “Fine.”
You scoff, quickly bringing yourself to your feet. Peering down at him with vengeful features. “Since you don’t want me here I’d like you to arrange for me to be taken home.” That and you have no idea where you are, you mentally add.
Within a millisecond he’s standing in front of you, your brain doesn’t register how he got there so fast but here he is – towering over you. Looking down at you with something indescribable darkening his eyes that display the faintest hint of scarlet. You can’t remember if they’d always been this colour, but when he opens his lips to speak you catch sight of sharp fangs that were definitely not there before. Dark veins and bruising frame his eye sockets and panic floods every sense you possess, until your own eyes are wide with fear and you take a step back.
“Don’t twist my words Y/N.” His voice comes out as a warning paired with his tense jawline, “I said you don’t belong here, not that I didn’t want you here.”
You nod when you attempt to make you way around him, but he doesn’t allow it. Gripping your elbow hard enough to shatter bones. He’s strong, a lot stronger than you anticipated earning you to wince in pain and he loosens his hold of you to something more… human.
“I’ll have someone drive you home.” His features relax, resembling the way he looked before he stood to attention a few moments ago. “It’s Jungkook by the way.”
You look at him expressionless and the faintest smile threatens to pull the corners of his mouth, “My name.”
When you find yourself in the familiar backseat of Jimin’s car in the quietest journey of your life you pray to every higher power that you never see any of them again. Not Jimin, not Namjoon, certainly not Taehyung and definitely, definitely not Jungkook.
But as fate would have it, you will see them again,
Jungkook is going to make sure of it.
x
