#vampire ff

Being cursed for death doesn’t seem too far afield from what’s written for everybody in this world. People breathe, sleep, eat, breed and eventually they wither and die. Of course there are vices that consume humanity between its beginning and end. Drugs, alcohol, lying, cheating, stealing, fucking everything with a pulse in a three hundred mile radius. And that’s only to name a few.

Death is inevitable for every living, breathing thing. One way or another life ends. No matter how beautifully written the book, or in spite of the end being premature, or even how peaceful the final chapter may be. That’s exactly what it is – a finale. Everything else is irrelevant in that moment. The sins, the celebrations, all the regrets and false promises truly mean nothing when it’s time to close the book.

We’re all born to die.

But to die before you’ve really lived? It’s pitiful. You don’t have a vice, there’s no morally grey area that intrigues you. Well maybe there is one. It’s tall, dark and sinisterly handsome with a knack for taking your breath away whenever it speaks in romance riddles. Whenever it embraces you you’re left wordless, and on the rare occasion it’s lips have moulded against yours it’s enough to consume every fibre of your being.

Unfortunately for you, it’s the same vice you’ve been staying with for almost three weeks now.

The curse of the Pi Gasu has plagued your thoughts ever since Jungkook told you about it. How you and your twin brother Eddie are cursed. How your biological father was a vampire. How Eddie’s terminal illness is nothing more than a transition into immortality. And how his transition will only be completed the moment you die. So it’s all real, the scary monsters and spooky tales. The vampires, werewolves and demons. The witchcraft, the potions and curses. It’s been a rough couple of weeks for you hiding out in Jungkook’s house that’s for damn sure.

Which leaves the question: why are you hiding out in his house?

It was something the monster in question deemed necessary, now that he knows the truth of your linage he wants to protect you from vampires. As Eddie’s transition painfully drags itself to almost completion, your scent has only grown all the more enticing to the undead.

The Pi Gasu curse births a born predator, a powerful vampire, and when the DNA splits itself in the womb the other twin, the human twin, is cursed for a short-lived life plagued with the unwanted art of seduction. Everything about you mesmerises a vampire, securing your death and completing Eddie’s transition into eternal darkness. Restoring the balance in the world, one death for immortal life.

It’s been unbearable for both you and Jungkook to be around each other as your scent flourishes, drowning him, so much so that you’re staying in a small spare bedroom on the highest floor away from his choice of bedroom – the basement.

It's decorated nicely, the bedroom you’re staying in, as is the rest of his home. Plain and simple, added touch of personality. Almost like he saw the room in a catalogue and thought; 'that's what humans live like, I'll copy it.'

You’ve been in the basement many times, hell he’s nearly taken you to heaven and back again within those walls on multiple occasions when you used to fool around together. But it’s out of bounds right now, for no reason other than your safety. You know that he’s insisting you stay here for your own good, to stay alive, because he’s told you that he needs more time. More time to find a cure for the Pi Gasu curse, but so far his efforts have been futile.

Of course there was the spark of hope that perhaps if you turned into a vampire, Eddie would be saved and you could avoid being buried deep in the earth or being scattered in the sky. However, after much researching Jungkook and his for lack of better word friends Taehyung, Seokjin, Jimin and Namjoon all found no evidence to support the theory.

Apparently Jungkook isn’t willing to risk it regardless, he shut you down very quickly when you asked him to turn you. And not just because it’s illegal, but because he doesn’t want that life for you. He’s determined to find another way. And as you’re currently cooped up in his home asking any of the other vampires you know through association to turn you is somewhat impossible.

“Maybe I should just ask him to get this over with and kill me already.” You whisper at your reflection in the mirror, brushing out your wet freshly-showered hair.

That’s the inevitable, right? You’re going to die anyway so what’s the use in prolonging it? Eddie will be saved, Jungkook won’t have to fear that you’ve been found and killed by a vampire every damn day. It’s been a few days since you’ve even seen Jungkook’s face, usually he knocks on the bedroom door to let you know there’s food waiting for you before disappearing into the basement. It must be becoming a chore for him to take care of you like this, as much as it’s becoming a chore for you to stay put and wait for a miracle. You’re bored, broken and ready to face reality.

You were born to die.

Slowly, you push the bedroom door open, contrasting against the quickening of your beating heart. You’ve given him time and he’s found no cure. You’re ready to embrace death if it means your brother can be saved.

Skin still damp from the hot shower you cling onto the small towel that barely covers your modesty, making your way downstairs in his eerily homely home. It’s warm, as it has been throughout your stay here. Usually he would never feel the need to turn on the heating, but with a human under his roof he’s grown considerate of your comfort. Jungkook’s basically doing what he can to keep you alive, all while staying well out of your way and in turn not killing you himself.

Before you even have chance to call out his name in the open living area, he’s resting against the doorway in front of you – like he sensed you coming. Water beads trickle down your exposed skin when you stand completely still, frozen, staring at the vampire who’s hellbent on protecting your soul.

Jungkook swallows, wetting his lips all while his eyes slide over your body and drink in what you’re wearing. Well, what you’re not wearing. Unlike you he’s fully clothed, a shimmering red bomber jacket thrown over a zebra print sheer shirt that hangs just over his black belt. All tied together with ripped black jeans and bare feet. His disregard for colour palettes or themes when it comes to fashion choices never fails to amuse you. No human would ever dress like that.

“Did you need something?” His voice is flat, unreadable, much like the expression blanketing his sharp profile that’s only softened by the wavy locks of raven hair tickling his thick brows, “Are you out of clean clothes?”

“No… I just-, I just wanted to see you I guess.” You sigh absentmindedly, shaking some excess water from your hair, “It’s pretty lonely up there.”

The look on Jungkook’s face is nothing short of pained when his eyes squeeze shut, he looks almost guilty before he pinches the bridge of his nose, “Y/N… I’m sorry. But it’s for your own safety.”

“You’ve never hurt me before.” You mumble, averting his gaze.

And he hasn’t. Initially when you first met Jungkook all those months ago you were terrified of him and the prospect of what he could do to you. He’s strong, a lot stronger than a regular bitten vampire, he’s a Pi Gasu vampire, much like your brother he was born for this life. It’s in his veins and always has been. Even before his twin sister died and secured his place in the immortal world, the monster he became lingered beneath the surface. Waiting. Begging to be freed.

But then you got to know Jungkook on a personal level, and he would do anything to keep you safe. The fact you’re standing in his house proves the fact on some level, despite having no soul, he does care about you. There have been moments together, heated moments, moments that will last an eternity in his mind, where he could’ve succumb to his inner demon and blood lust. But he didn't.

Jungkook’s features soften upon meeting your eyes, his doe-like eyes may be crimson red in colour but they’re swimming with emotion, enough to make you drown in them, “Truthfully I don’t know what’s worse,” He frowns, pierced lips parted, “Staying away from you makes me crave you more, but being near you…”

“Makes you want to kill me.” You clear your throat, somewhat overwhelmed by his presence.

A while ago he’d asked you if you believe in fate, soulmates, convinced that you and he were tied by the beauty of the moon. But as you watch the man in front of you physically struggle to breathe around you, you’re reminded that it’s nothing more than the curse of the Pi Gasu.

The corners of his lips quirk up into a soft smile, “It’s not the curse.” His voice is low, it’s still equal parts infuriating and endearing that he can read your thoughts and you’ll never get used to it. “You’re… It’s…. It’s more than that. If I were only interested in you because of the curse you would’ve been dead a long time ago. The curse complicates things, but, well…”

“Maybe it’d be better for everyone if I just died already and got this over with.” You chuckle, while you’re trying to ease the budding tension with a joke at your own expense it’s obvious Jungkook doesn’t see the funny side. His frown deepens, a small hum escaping him.

“Is that how you really feel?”

“I’m just saying…” You sigh, squeezing the towel wrapping your body a little tighter, “Eddie will transition into a vampire, he won’t be in pain anymore… And you won’t have to waste time searching for a miracle. You can go back to your normal life before we met—”

“My time will never be wasted when spent on you.” He takes a step forward, surprising you, his jaw clenched so tight you wonder if vampire bones are capable of shattering, “If it takes me forever to find a cure then so be it, I’m not prepared to let you die.”

You try to reason with him, shuffling a cautious step in his direction, “I don’t want my brother to be in pain anymore, if dying is the only way—”

“I’m not going to let that happen!” The projection of his voice startles you, but not as much as the loud bang followed by bricks crumbling around his feet after he punches the door frame does. You stare at him wide-eyed and frightened, unable to peer away from the way his chest heaves up and down with each angry breath. “I need more time… I’ll find a way.”

At this you lose it, laughing humourlessly before you match his volume and rage, “There isn’t another way Jungkook! You’ve tried!” You rush over to him, until you’re in arms-length distance and being mindful not to step in the aftermath of his temper, “I can’t live like this anymore, knowing that it’s hurting my brother… I just-, I want this to be over with. I’m ready.” You sigh, eyes fluttering shut. It’s such a relief to say that out loud.

Jungkook swallows, dark eyes zoned in on your face, “Well I’m not ready to lose you Y/N.”

“It has to be this way, to save my brother.”

“I'm not letting you go, not yet. You have no idea how long I’ve waited for you,” He begins, trembling tattooed hands gently finding purchase on your bare shoulders, “You’re the poem the universe wrote only for me.”

A tiny gasp betrays you when his inked fingers find your chin, tilting your face up to meet his. It’s indescribable how beautiful the man is standing before you, even in his human life he must’ve been the most handsome person around. His eyes are dark in colour, framed by even darker delicate lashes. The pits of your stomach ignite with desire, along with an uncontrollable need to be closer to him. A pull so inhumane and sewn deep into your soul that you struggle to compare it to anything you’ve ever experienced. It's Jungkook’s breath warm against your lips that breaks you from the trance, gazing up at him with big eyes.

“I know you feel this too… This comfort, this desire…” He whispers, until his lips are a hair away from yours, his own eyes sliding shut, “The ache in your heart, is my promise to you that this is more than the curse. You belong with me.”

“Then change me.” You plead quietly, cupping his angled jaw with your hands, “There’s no way to beat the curse, if it’s death that completes his transition… Technically I’ll be dead. Change me.”

“There’s no guarantee it’ll save you brother, there’s no guarantee you’ll even survive it… There’s no evidence of a Pi Gasu twin being turned. It’s too risky. Your life isn’t something I’m willing to take chances on.”

You sigh again, pressing your forehead to his, “Please, Jungkook.”

“You may have nothing to lose, but if we do this I’ll lose everything.” His whisper comes with his arms snaking round your back, pressing your body to his own. “If you die—”

“We don’t know that I won’t survive it,” You hold his face tighter, silently begging him to grant this wish for you, “I can’t tolerate the thought of my life causing my brother pain anymore. Please, for me, please. It will work—”

“Do you realise what you’re asking of me?” He bites, and for a split second you swear you see his chin quiver. “I could never forgive myself if it didn’t work, if you died before I had the chance to really be with you.”

His admission sends a rush of guilt over you, you are asking a lot of him but there is no other way. He’s searched, his friends have searched, and no cure has been found. If you’re going to die regardless, at least it won’t be in vain.

“Then be with me.” You whisper, “Take me, however you want me, have me.” You kiss his cheek, not missing the way his hold of you grows stronger.

“It’s too dangerous.” His face his scrunched tightly, as though he’s having a difficult time being so close to you. Where his skin is usually ice cold his cheeks feel flushes beneath your palms, “If I lose control, even for a second…”

“You won’t.” You hush his concerns, thumbs tracing back and forth on his skin in an attempt to comfort him, “And if you do… You could change me. This will work, I promise.”

"What if it doesn't?" He whispers back.

"But what if it does?"

Large palms make their way up your back until they find purchase in your damp hair, and at that exact moment nothing else in the world matters. It’s both a blessing and a curse to feel for each other so deeply, so unwaveringly, that when his lips find yours you simultaneously feel broken and complete all at once. When he kisses you you’re left breathless, haphazardly grabbing at his body to get impossibly closer to him, something he reciprocates wordlessly.

Jungkook’s hands are all over your frame, his lips crushing yours hard enough to bruise, with such urgency it makes your head spin. It doesn’t take you long to slide his jacket from his broad shoulders, messily clawing down his back when his tongue elegantly glides into your mouth and dances with your own. You stand there for some time, embracing each other, kissing as though it’s the last time, choking on the thick sea of words neither of you are too brave to speak.

It's then that you’re being whisked downstairs faster than you can humanly process. Your back hits the mattress on the large bed centred in the basement, Jungkook’s body atop of your own and strong arms caging you in. His lips never leaving yours, kissing you with so much yearning and lust that it’s enough to make you feel as though you’re the only two people in the world. When your arms reach out to his shirt buttons the towel you’re wearing falls open, revealing your entirely naked body underneath him.

The scent of your exposed flesh must’ve been like heat from a foreign country smacking Jungkook straight in the face when stepping off a plane. He pulls back ever so slightly, calming himself, steadying his breathing while burying his face into the crook of your neck.

“I want you to know…” He exhales, voice thickened by bloodlust and greed, “That whatever happens, if this doesn’t work… In my own way, in my own morbid, sinister and selfish way. Not once in my centuries of existing have I ever felt this way about anyone.”

“Jungkook…” You whimper beneath him, ridding him of his thin shirt. You'd almost forgotten about the countless tattoos decorating his physique. The dark sleeves, the intricate artwork littering his entire body. The muscles on his body. He really is breath taking.

“To know you is to love you Y/N.”

Wet kisses smother your neck, filled with emotion and truths untold that have you sighing in bliss. He’s omnipresent, you can feel him in every inch of your body, his voice haunting your thoughts and his touch burning your flesh. His tongue glides over a sensitive spot on your neck and that’s when you feel his fangs, sharp and threatening, scratching the spot through the kisses. Jungkook’s movements grow more frantic, his mouth lapping up your taste before he hisses against you, shaking his head of the intrusive thoughts.

“It’s okay…” You whisper, “It’s okay… You won’t hurt me, I trust you.”

You feel his small smile against you, “A foolish mistake on your part.”

With your earlobe pinched between his teeth he rests his weight on one arm, snaking the other down to cup your breast. When his thumb grazes your nipple you both groan, overwhelmed by lust. Every nerve in your body is aflame, singing a song written for only Jungkook to hear. When his hand travels further down your bare body, until his fingers toy with your folds you lose all sense of who you are.

“Please,” You beg shamelessly, “Please touch me.”

“Once I start I won’t be able to stop Y/N,” Where his whispered warning should bring you to your senses, it does nothing save for fuel the burning desire in your body, “Being… Intimate with a vampire, it’s-, it’s not going to be like it is in the movies. It’s rough, it’s painful and it will hurt. Are you sure you want this?”

“I’m sure,” You nod along a little too eagerly, ready to be thrown into the volcano. “Come here…” You gently grip his head and tug his neck to your lips, peppering the clammy skin with lewd kisses, “Can I-, um…”

For the first time in a while you hear him chuckle, his white smile so boyish and bright you almost miss the threat of his predatory fangs completely, “You can. Don’t hold back, get a good amount of blood in case this ends badly. Bite me like your life depends on it.”

Because it does.

With a lot of effort your teeth sink into his flesh and the familiar taste of iron coats your tongue. It’s not pleasurable, not for a human, to taste blood. But the moment is intimate, like you’re tasting the forbidden fruit you’ve been told to avoid your whole life. You’ve tasted his blood before when you fooled around, mostly because he didn’t want to hurt you and knew a drop of his blood would help repair any injuries sustained. But this time it's different, this really may be your last night with him if things turn sour.

Soon your biting turns to kisses and Jungkook lowers his lips to the shell of your ear, his voice raspy yet serious, “Are you sure about this?”

“Positive.” You murmur against his skin, jaw falling slack with a gasp upon the sensation of his nimble fingers drawing firm circles over your sensitive area.

It’s euphoric, the feeling of coming undone beneath a monster you’ve lusted for since the moment you met him. Your body caged under his, his muscles sheltering you from the outside world. Like a rose guarded by it’s thorns, two halves a whole, neither one existing without the other. And as his ministrations grow more deliberate, dipping into where you crave him most, the rose begins to shed it’s petals. Layers of doubt, fear, uncertainty, falling onto the bedsheets with your discarded towel. Walls crumbling, only leaving the part of your soul that yearns for more. Your body language is something he is fluent in, understanding completely what you want and how to give it to you.

As you watch him slither down the sheets, until his face is buried into the plump flesh of your thigh, you feel like you’re falling. But he doesn’t let you touch the ground, catching you, he takes a deep breath through flared nostrils to steady himself before heavy eyes flicker to your face. Perhaps the most sinful feature of human nature is to give what we most wish to receive, and in this moment the only thing clouding the limited space between your bodies is the mutual need for intimacy.

To be loved.

Jungkook’s losing his mind, every ounce of self-restraint slowly dissipating into the carnal desire to claim you. To make you his in every sense of the word, until your minds, bodies and souls are eternally intertwined. His bare chest rises and falls in rhythm with your pounding heart, the scent of you flooding every sense he possess. Subconsciously his jaw tightens upon seeing your wet pussy shimmer in the dim lighting of the basement. The monster inside him has never been so painfully close to the surface in your presence, it’s a battle he knows he’ll ultimately lose and the neediness smothering your pretty features is far from helping the situation.

Open-mouthed kisses guide him to your swollen clit, where he takes it between his lips and begins to lap it up with a flattened tongue, sucking and licking until you’re writhing on the bed in equal parts shock and desperation.

“Fuck… Jung-, hnnng.” You moan breathlessly, feeling akin to being on cloud fucking nine, body tingling in every way imaginable. His licking grows heavier, more determined and erratic, barely giving you time to even out your unsteady breaths, “Shit, Jungkook.” You mewl, pushing your hips up to meet his greedy mouth.

His muscular arms sling themselves under your thighs, a bruising grip on your hips when he drags you closer to his face, the bend of his nose now flat against your core. You're no match for the shapes he's creating with his tongue. you don't stand a change against the harsh sucks and groans he's delivering. It’s as if he’s enjoying this equally as much as you, thick brows pinched in concentration while the hold he has on your bones turns painful. Hearing you cry out from the combination of pain and pleasure only spurs him on more, smothering himself between your legs where he eats you out so ravenously your legs twitch and tremble either side of his face.

“Jungk-, ohhh…” Your eyes glide back into your skull, hands roughly and quickly finding their way into the depths of his raven hair. With urgency you push his bangs away from his face to get a better view of the unholy display unfolding before your very eyes.

The dark veins framing his hooded gaze should deter you, turn you off, make you scream for an entirely different reason. But they don’t. In spite the noticeable bruising around his eye sockets, drawing attention to the beast inside him, you’ve never wanted him more.

It’s when he looks up at you that you realise exactly what he was referring to earlier. Despite having consumed his blood the strength he’s grabbing your body with hurts. You’re frowning, lips ajar to allow your shallow breaths and quiet whimpers escape freely. The pain is soon forgotten about when Jungkook hisses against you, sucking in a sharp breath before diving right back in, visibly losing control.

We don’t fall in love with the pure intentions in people, we fall in love with the darkness we recognise in others. From the moment your eyes met his, you knew there was something inside his demonic stare that felt like home. It’s all overwhelming, contradicting, confusing, but boy is it addicting.

It’s a stab to the heart and being brought back to life in the same moment, knowing it hurts but unable to pinpoint where. Just knowing you want more of it, until you’re gasping for air and drowning in the sea of possibilities. Further proving that if it doesn’t hurt, ache and bleed, it’s not love; and the way he holds your body strong enough to break it has you finally making sense of the term ‘to love someone to death’.

“Jungkook… I’m-,” You pant, tugging and pulling his hair, “I’m close. Please…” Your body shakes and jolts with ecstasy, the fire in your stomach never burning hotter. The pornographic sounds of him savouring every drop of arousal you’re giving him floods your ears, fogs your mind and throws you head first over the edge.

“Fuck! I’m coming! I’m coming! Don’t stop!”” You gasp, back arching from the sheets, hands flying to your scalp to helplessly tug your hair.

Your frame is punched with the most intense orgasm you’ve ever had, pulsating with pleasure that comes in white-hot waves. Had Jungkook been human the way you’re pressing your thighs together from the overstimulation would have his eyes pop out his skull. Instead his face stays there, stare hungrily dragging itself up and down the spans of your sweaty body. His movements slow into an eventual nothing, aiding you ride out your high, until he’s suddenly above you, crashing his face to yours in a bloodthirsty kiss.

“Take more,” He orders, craning his neck to give you easier access to where you bit him previously, “I’m-, have more. Please. I’m not gonna be able to hold back much longer, I don’t want to hurt you.” The genuine pain weaved into his words sparks a panic inside you, this is him holding back? You think about how tightly he held you, how your bones almost crumbled beneath his fingertips. So you do as he says, biting him again until a soft moan emits from his pierced lips and catches you off guard.

“If this is too much for you…” You say quietly, guilt eroding your insides, “We don’t-, I don’t want you to feel like you have to do this for me. If you’re not having a good time—”

You’re cut short by the sound of Jungkook’s breathy laughter, sounding disbelieved. He meets your eye contact with a smirk, still panting for air, “How can I put this to you?” He’s laughing, wetting his lips between smiles, “To call what we’ve just done ‘a good time’ is a fucking insult. I’ve never felt seduction like this, I want to have you, to take you, to consume you in every way imaginable until you’re mine.” There’s a possessiveness to his tone, one what reignites the fire of passion.

“I’m already yours.” You whisper, in what feels like a very profound moment where time itself comes to a halt.

Jungkook stills, swallowing the needy noises that threaten to betray him when you start kissing his neck again, softly, featherlight, showing him no fear or hesitation. You want this, just as much as he does, “Everything I am, everything I have to give, is yours Y/N.”

And just like that he’s kissing you again, feverishly, hopelessly, like a love sick fool glutton for punishment.

The tension picks up quickly, atmosphere shifting into something more sinister as Jungkook begins to lose his resolve. His body is tense, jaw tight, eyes slid shut and white teeth bared in a threatening snarl against your cheek. A hand reaches out to the wooden bedframe to steady himself, but instead it crumbles between his fingertips and he has no choice but to keep himself still to stay calm.

“Are you okay?” You peer up at him, expression innocent yet screaming concern.

Jungkook growls, he knew this moment would happen sooner or later but he doesn’t have time to dwell on the specifics. When his eyes lock with yours they’re deep red, rich, oozing lust, a born predator stalking his prey.

“You’re mine.”

A moment later he’s shed of any clothing, hovering above you, chest heaving up and down while panting for air. Your scent is everywhere, it’s enough to make his eyes roll back into his skull when he bites his bottom lip hard enough to draw blood. The tattoos, the muscles, the bumps and bends of his body have you silently pleading for him to take you, it’s the last thing Jungkook sees in your eyes before the monster inside finally takes over.

The lust that overcomes a vampire when aroused is like nothing any human would understand. The need, the urgency, the craving that weighs down their limbs and clouds their judgement. Any rational thinking dissolves quickly and the frenzy kicks in strong. With flared nostrils and unsteady deep breaths he lines his cock up to your entrance, hands trembling with anticipation and greed.

“Take me Jungkook,” Your voice is like that of an angel’s when it lands on his ears, quiet and calm, “I’m yours.”

With that statement your walls struggle to accommodate the size of his length as he pushes into you, the two of you groaning and gasping at the new mind-blowing sensation. Your hands are pinned above your head, held in place by the bone crushing grip Jungkook has on them with one hand, the other pawing at your left breast while his tongue finds your other nipple, swirling against it hungrily.

“Fuck!” You cry, never feeling so full in your life, “Jungkook… Oh my-, oh-, nnngh.” You whine pathetically between tiny breaths. You were warned that being intimate with a vampire was no easy feat, you knew it would hurt, and yet you’re still surprised at just how much it hurts.

“Who do you belong to?” Jungkook growls against your skin, pulling back his hips until he’s almost fully out of you before slamming himself back inside. Your organs already feel bruised, bones aching, head spinning. Yet there’s something tremendously addicting and pleasurable behind the pain.

“Y-you.” You hiss.

The roll of his hips is already overbearing, physically and emotionally pushing you to your limits. With each feral thrust you feel weaker, legs shaking in time with your pants for air. You’ve never given much thought to why mating with a vampire is illegal, Jungkook had explained to you that it’s extremely dangerous and the repercussions of these actions. Yet to experience it first hand is another thing entirely. The stretch is almost too much to handle, so much so that you shriek when you’re equally blessed and cursed by a particularly harsh thrust.

“Aaah!” Your eyes squeeze shut, mirroring the way your walls tighten around the girth currently stuffing you senseless.

“Fuck. Oh fuck.” You barely register the words lost to the sound of his moans and groans against your flesh, too caught up in your own self-awareness and thoughts. This is really happening, you’re fucking Jungkook. And Jungkook is annihilating you.

Once you’re adjusted to the brutal pace he’s set, plunging in and out of you, the pleasure slowly creeps up on you like a stalker in the night. It’s there, you can sense it, you know it’s coming and you cling onto the feeling of growing arousal inside you as a way to deal with the aches and pains spreading your frame. Focussing on how good this feels, you manage to find a sense of bliss.

As though he read your mind, Jungkook snakes a hand down your body to your clit, rubbing the area firmly to amplify the pleasure you’re feeling. The movements of his hand match the snaps of his hips. Hard, deep, inhumane, but it’s enough to regain some strength in your limbs and reignite the fire of passion in the depths of your abdomen.

“Shhh, shit-“ You choke out, completely enamoured by the sensation, “Keep going. Just like that.”

"I knew you'd be able to take me," He gasps when you clench around him again, "Fuck... Mmmph."

"Please, don't stop..." You whimper, your second high fast approaching thanks to his huge cock effortlessly brushing past your most sensitive spot with each roll of his hips, "Please."

"I could fuck you for eternity." He spits, lips tucked between his teeth while trying to remain calm, tightening the grip of your bound hands with his own, "I'm going to fuck you for eternity baby. Every night, mmmph, forever."

"Forever." Your voice is barely audible over Jungkook's loud moans every time he fucks into you, the sound alone sparking a whole new wave of need inside you.

“You’re mine,” He reiterates between ragged breaths, “All fucking mine.”

“All yours.” You sigh, growing hotter and sweatier all while being drilled into the mattress beneath you, “I’m all yours, and you’re mine.”

And that he is. He’s spent the last eight centuries guarding his heart, guarding it so viciously that others questioned if he even had one. It may not beat, it may not pump blood through his body, it may not work at all. But even then, in its broken, shabby, moth-eaten and frozen state. It belongs to you. Each part of his being, both man and beast, is undeniably, unfathomably, and uncontrollably yours.

He can’t blame the curse for his feelings, the fact alone that you make him capable of feeling anything is all the proof he needs that you’re his mate. His true mate. Just because you’re a Pi Gasu, a blood singer, doesn’t mean the emotions surging his core aren’t real. He’s fucking you hard enough to break you, to kill you, if it were nothing more than the curse drawing him to you he would’ve bitten and drained you by now, he's being intimate with you because he wants to.

Therein lies the biggest mistake Jungkook could’ve ever made. With your naked, exposed, vulnerable body quivering beneath him – he thinks about your blood. The romantic taste it leaves on his tongue, the thick scent of it flooding this entire room, his nostrils, how your arousal makes it sweeter…

“Jungkook, oh my—” You whine, muffling your shy moans behind your teeth that are sunken into your lips.

Without warning the grip he has of your hands tightens again, and your eyes fly open in a panic when you hear, when you feel the bones in your fingers snap. You stare at Jungkook, dumbfounded, in a state of shock. But he’s too zoned in on your neck to notice your features, he hasn’t registered what’s just happened despite the fact your fingers are like putty in his hands. His grip tightens once more, this time your wrist shatters like the bedframe did earlier, and you can’t help but scream.

"Ahh!"

“Shit shit shit, fuck!” Jungkook snaps out of his daze, face full of horror upon seeing what he’s done, “I’m sorry. I’m so sorry!” In a frenzy of contradicting emotion he takes his hand away from your wrist, grabbing your hip to still your bodies – except the pressure from his vice-like hold is strong enough to crush your bones.

“Ahh—!” You’re coughing, spluttering, crying when it feels as though your hipbone has been ground down to dust and popped out of socket, paralysed with pain.  “Jungkoo-, plea-, stop.” You choke, and the red tinge to his eyes quickly fades into chocolate brown. He raises his shaky hands to prove to you he’s not going to touch you, withdrawing himself from your body entirely.

“I-, Y/N… I’m sorry. I-, I lost it… Fuck, I’m s—”

“It hurts-, it-, it hurts.” You sob, physically incapable of moving your broken body on the bed, “Please… M-make it stop!” You’re roaring inconsolably, which tugs on the vampire’s heart strings a lot harsher than he’d prepared for. Nothing could’ve prepared him for seeing you in this much agony, nothing could’ve prepared you for feeling this much agony.

“I'll make it stop,” He nods once, twice, three times to syke himself up, “This is going to hurt, but it’ll take away the pain soon I promise.” With your eyes squeezed shut you manage to nod at him, giving him the only confirmation he needed to lower his lips to your jugular.

It’s a bittersweet moment for him, finally having the consent to bite you. But at what cost? He hurt you, something he’d promised himself he’d never do. And biting you now, after you’ve consumed his blood is going to change the course of your life forever. That’s if it even works… It should’ve prevented your bones from breaking, but it didn’t. Shaking the intrusive thoughts from his mind he kisses your neck tenderly, fluttering his eyes shut as mutual greed and despair takes over his immortal being.

“I’m sorry.” He whispers, before plunging his sharp fangs into the supple skin of your neck as easy as a blade through soft butter.

The second your blood stains his tongue, it’s over. Not just for your mortality, your soul, but for Jungkook too. It was one thing to drink your blood from the donation vials you’d gifted him previously, but to feast on you in such an intimate way in such a sacred moment is unbearable. He grips your body tightly, shattering a few of your ribs in the process to tug you even closer, all while his eyes roll into the back of his skull. You taste like every sonnet ever written, like every genuine smile you’ve ever gifted him, he’s never tasted such romance that it’s impossible for him to stop.

“Jungkook…” You’re growing weaker by the moment, the agony broken bones forgotten about, replaced by a searing hot pain on your neck that makes you want to shriek and sob. Except you’re too frail to move, to complain, instead having to take the hurt for what it is and pray that it’s over soon.

“Jung-,” You’re lightheaded, rapidly emptying of blood as your eyelids grow heavy. It’s a selfless thought, your final one, prompting the corners of your lips to curl into a smile. At least your brother will be okay. “-Kook… I-,” Your breaths slow, as does your heart, but you’ll be damned if you die without speaking your truth, “-love you.”

Your heartfelt confession forces him back to reality, he gulps, somehow finding the inner strength to stop and let go of your body. With a heaving chest and aching heart he retracts his fangs, replacing them with a soft kiss to the wound he’s created. A kiss so heartfelt that Shakespeare himself would have difficulty describing it. It takes him a selfish moment to steady himself, to fully shake the demon within to the back of his thoughts and appreciate your words and their magnitude. His forehead rests against your cheek, his hair damp and wayward, sticking to his skin as he smiles.

“To say I love you too would be an understatement,” He exhales, withdrawing from your face when you don’t react, “Y/N?”

Death is so beautiful. To have certainty, no yesterday and no tomorrow, no misery or doubt, just eternal peace. Envy brews inside Jungkook at the prospect of those capable of dying, to be the first to say goodbye, to lay forever in the soil and be a part of something more. The circle of life, the balance and harmony of the universe. At least that’s how he viewed death until he saw the light fade away from your eyes.

“Y/N?!”

He sits back on his knees, panicking, only now registering just how much damage he’s caused. Your body is warped, a mangled version of the epitome of beauty it was before. Not once has Jungkook ever felt remorse for his killings, it’s not in his nature. But the sight before him has him feeling sick to his stomach. He did this.

“Y/N?! No, no no no no…” Frantically shaking his head in denial his hands find the towel, covering your intimate areas with it to spare you some dignity, “Come on… Come on… The venom should be working, stay with me baby, stay with me!”

Love never dies a natural death. It withers away from the wrongdoings of the person we trusted most. The deceit, the pain and betrayals. It dies because of us, the consequences of our own actions. In it’s final hours love hurts so much that we feel numb to the pain, and even though we know the inevitable is coming, the execution destroys us.

And Jungkook loved you so much that it killed you.

“Please, you can’t leave me! You-, we were meant to be forever.. Please, come on come on come on...”

For the first time in his immortal existence Jungkook is scared. You should’ve turned by now, you should be like him. He’s turned many before, all of which showed signs of life after death within seconds of dying. It was a risky move to make, turning you when knowing of your lineage and the Pi Gasu curse, but even he must admit deep down he thought this would work. The silence in the basement is deafening, not even a trace of you beating heart remains.

"I've searched for so long to find you, please," He's desperate, leaning down to bite the other side of your neck. Your wrist, your arms, his fangs even make their way down to your thighs to bite you there too. The venom should be working. Why isn't it fucking working?!

It's then that he maps out a plan, one that will end his anguish if you really are dead. He’s to report your death to the council, they would never let him live knowing that he mated with you, never mind the fact he murdered you. The council consists of the world’s oldest, strongest vampires that implore the laws and see out punishments for ones broken. He’ll be executed. He knows first hand that he will suffer, it will be torture, the same pain he inflicted on others when he was a part of the council before he fled. Even then, nothing could ever hurt him more than living, if that’s what he is, knowing what he’s done.

“I’m so sorry,” His quivering lips part, allowing sobs to escape freely.

Even in death you take his breath away.

Unbeknownst to Jungkook you’re screaming for him not to worry, soul banging against the flesh of your body as the venom of his bites spreads your veins. It’s indescribable, agonising and paralysing. Internally you have the energy to run a thousand miles, the room smells different, there are dust particles falling in front of your eyes that you so desperately want to catch between your fingertips that feel restored to their usual structure. Yet you can't bring your body to move a single muscle.

You’re pleading, begging for him to stop crying and see that it worked. It worked. Eddie's transition will be complete just as you finish your own. You’re right here with Jungkook, where you’ll always be.

Forever.

“I should’ve never put you at risk like this… I-, I should’ve shown more restraint. I should’ve never let this happen.” He continues, sparks igniting your skin when his cool fingers trace your profile before he shuts your eyelids for you.

“I spent centuries searching for you, longing for your touch… Only for my touch to be the weapon that kills you. I would’ve given you the world and yet I’m the one to take it from you. The irony of loving someone so much it kills you is wasted on me, I feel nothing short of heartbroken.”

Please, please don’t cry, you think, please.

The world’s greatest love stories are defined by tragedy, and there is nothing more tragic than finally embracing your adoration and love for someone when it’s too late. How selfish of you both, to only truly appreciate the other and the comfort they brought you once it faded into darkness. It takes every ounce of strength, every shred of adrenaline in your body to flutter your eyes back open. And when you do, you're greeted with the sight of Jungkook sobbing into his hands.

Your voice is hoarse, throat burning, as though you've just died and come back to life, but when it registers in your mates brain his gaze snaps to yours instantly, and he grins.

"I-I'm thirsty."

 __________________________________________

Dracula carried me to the bathroom. I stifled a giggle as soon as we crossed the threshold. It was either the biggest bathroom I had ever seen or I was shrinking. The walls were black marble with white and grey veins. Heavy curtains like the ones in the dining room covered a wall. Light peeked from under it. I supposed there was a big window there so that one could admire London’s skyline from inside the oval bathtub placed near it. Across from the sink countertop and a large mirror, stood the shower separated from the rest of the room by  blurred glass.

He lowered me near the bathtub, murmuring for me to open the faucets. Keeping one arm around his neck, I reached and opened them. As the bathtub filled, Dracula held me under his shower to let the water wash off the blood. He stripped me of the rest of my clothes. When I swayed on my feet, he enveloped me in a hug to keep me steady. Drowsy, I buried my head on his chest and closed my eyes. 

Hot water embraced my whole body and I opened my eyes with a start as I was carefully lowered into the bathtub with him. His fingers kneaded my scalp and tugged softly on my hair as he washed it. The contours of my body were touched with the sole intent of cleaning it. After so much of moving me around, of raising my limbs and tender touches, I fell still, lying on him with my cheek on the crook of his neck. 

Submerged in water and in deep silence, I was suspended in a veil of sleep and wakefulness, threading between the two. For a moment I wondered if I was not dreaming. If perhaps I fell asleep at some point on the tube from Covent Garden to Knightsbridge and dreaming of peace in the arms of Count Dracula was the illusory result. As a test, I squeezed him lightly. He squeezed back. 

Not a dream. 

This was real. Everything that had just happened was real. There was no bond. My will was my own. I had a bite on my neck. Mallory had one and so did Diana. I was his. He said he was mine. 

Was this peace?

I shivered. 

“Are you cold?” I heard his voice deep inside his chest, the rumble it made inside his ribcage. It was quiet in there, except when he spoke. 

“No.”

“You’re shivering.”

“Maybe the water is getting cold,” I mumbled, pressing my eyes closed. This was peace. Peace, I insisted.

“The water is still hot,” he said. He pushed the hair that clung to my neck and I flinched at the slight soreness there but relaxed as he stroked the skin gently. “I may have taken too much.” 

He moved beneath me. I opened my eyes with a sigh as he sat up and leaned his back against the tub. His legs parted my own and he pulled me up to straddle him. I felt his length grazing my inner thigh. I was briefly distracted as I remembered his size stretching me but Dracula made a brusque movement with his hand that pulled my mind away from that. A dark carmine line appeared above his collarbone. 

“Drink,” he beckoned.

I spared the blood a glance before fixing my eyes on his face.

“You’ve already given it to me.”

“You need more.” He held my cheek, drawing me closer. “You’re weak. It’ll help.”

I shook my head. Blood started sliding down the hairs on his chest. It glimmered. My mouth watered.

“I’ll be fine,” I insisted, forcing myself to look up. 

“Y/N,” he hissed my name, and like some sort of spell it wrapped around me and tightened, “you’re pale and shivering.” Dracula knitted his eyebrows as he evaluated me. The hand he had on my cheek coiled behind my head. “Drink it.”

My stomach fluttered. I gazed at the carmine sliver. Watched as it reached the bathwater and blossomed like red tendrils until it faded into pink hue. 

“Later, perhaps,” I said. I covered the cut on his neck with my hand. He frowned. “I haven’t eaten anything in hours. Food will make me feel better.” He continued staring at me, as if he was waiting for me to give in under the weight of his gaze. I dipped my hand underwater and pulled the drain stopper. The water gurgled as it started draining. “Help me out of the tub? I don’t think I can stand up on my own just yet.”

He nodded, the crease between his brows deepening. He pulled my arms around him and tied my legs around his waist before standing up. Water sloshed in the bathtub and dripped from our bodies in a sudden cascade of sound. I shivered again and held him tighter, seeking some warmth from the stark change of temperature. I flinched instinctively when he went to sit me down on the sink countertop, expecting the marble to feel cold but it was the furthest thing from it, and I relaxed. 

“There's a heating system in the entire bathroom,” he explained as he reached beneath the countertop and retrieved a pile of white towels. “The floors are heated, too.”

Sitting atop the block of solid marble, I matched his height and had no need to bend my head to look into his eyes, which was a relief with my sore neck. The cut he had opened above his collarbone was gone. 

I took two towels from him; one for my hair and another to dry myself off. He smiled faintly as he tied a towel around his waist. Carefully so as to not pull at the wound on my neck, I wrapped a towel around my body as if it was a cape. I eyed the second towel next to the copper sink. Dracula took it and started drying off my hair. “Thank you,” I said in a relieved smile that he seemed to understand without my needing to ask for help. 

Taking strands of my hair with the towel, he pressed them to soak up the water. At times he rubbed the towel on my scalp. His own hair looked black instead of dark brown as droplets of water dripped down to his nose. One drop landed on his lip. It hung from his cupid bow, undisturbed. The drop grew fat as tiny particles of water coalesced around it. Even so, it sat still on the curve of his mouth. I glanced up at his eyes. He was too absorbed in drying my hair to pay it any mind. I leaned closer, intent on catching the drop before it fell, but strands of my hair fell like a curtain in front of my eyes when he used the towel to rub my head again and I huffed inwardly. 

I blew the hair away from my face. It fell over my eyes again.

“No fussing,” he said, as he swiped the hair away with a flick of his hand in the towel. 

As if the drop on the curve of his mouth had grown heavy, he pressed his lips together and licked it. Apparently satisfied, he tossed the towel to the side and picked up a small comb from under the sink. 

“That won’t detangle my hair,” I told him. “I have a brush on my purse that I use.” 

He nodded and left the bathroom, leaving a trail of wet footprints in his wake. I adjusted the towel on my shoulders and turned to have a look in the mirror behind me. I pressed my lips together and bit them lightly to bring some colour back to them. They remained pale. I tipped my chin to try and have a look on my new bite when Dracula returned, my hairbrush in one hand, and a chair from his dining table in the other. 

“Sit and I’ll brush your hair for you,” he said as he placed the chair in front of the sink. He extended a hand for me, but I ignored it and set my feet on the ground to make sure my legs could keep me up. They wobbled but did not bend. Dracula watched me with a raised eyebrow, hand still extended in case my knees failed me but made no other movement to help as I took a step towards the chair and sat down. 

Hugging the towel close to me, I stared at Dracula through the mirror as he started brushing my hair from the tips. He held a strand close to my roots as he got rid of a knot. He didn’t tug on my hair once.

“You’ve done this before,” I said as he swiped the brush through a detangled strand. 

“Brushed a woman’s hair?” He asked, without raising his gaze to our reflection. I nodded. “My late wife enjoyed having her hair brushed, and she enjoyed brushing mine. I wore my hair long back then.”

“And Lucy?” The name left an acid taste on my tongue. Dracula continued brushing, unbothered. “Do you brush her hair, too?”

I held my breath. I’d asked the question on impulse but I was glad I had. 

“No. She didn’t like having her hair touched by anyone other than herself.”

“Didn’t? Past tense?” 

He regarded me with amused eyes. 

“I grew tired of Lucy.” He moved to my right to brush that side. “I won’t be seeing her anymore.” 

I tried smiling but it took effort to pull my cheeks up. The smile looked more like a wince. The news that I was the only one now should have made me happy.

He was mine forever, as I was his. He’d said so. 

Our deal was over. There was nothing left to wonder about. But wonder I did. Wondered about red silks, sharp teeth and iron in my mouth; about crazed eyes and red becoming pink. 

I drank my own blood and delighted in it; drank his blood and salivated at the thought. I lived a world of cravings in that dining room and satiated them all at once. And they were my cravings, all mine, not his, not a bond. Without a bond to shield me, I was peeled.

Was this myself? 

“What’s on your mind?,” he questioned, fingers working carefully to untangle a mass of hair that not even the brush managed to work through. The feeling of those same fingers in my mouth invaded my thoughts and my tongue rubbed the roof of my mouth in remembrance. “Are you having regrets?” I stared at his face in the mirror, trying to capture his eyes and read his thoughts on them, but he kept his gaze locked on his task. “About giving in to me? A little horrified at your choices? I did bite your friends, and nearly killed a few of them, perhaps now you’re questioning yourself. How is Mallory, by the way? I trust that she’s making a steady recovery.”  I kept silent. “I’ll take that as a confirmation. If you are having regrets, Y/N, and wondering if you can get away, I’ll discourage those thoughts right now. I will hunt you down, especially after we–”

“No.”

He stopped brushing at my answer and met my eyes.

“No?”

“I’m not regretting anything.”

“Really?” His eyebrows went up, as if he didn’t believe me.

“Stop needling me.”

“Then explain why you didn’t drink my blood.”

“I did drink–”

“When I offered you not less than 10 minutes ago,” he interrupted. His lips were thin with impatience. “I would like to understand why.” He swooped my hair to the side, exposing the bite on my neck. “Are you scared?”

I wished that we were on the bathtub again, in silence and in peace. But the peace was a mere illusion. I knew we would come to this. He would question me and test me. He always did. 

“Yes, actually,” I said through the knot on my throat. His jaw clenched. “I am scared. But not of you. I fell in love with you, despite–” he opened his mouth to say something “– no, let me speak. Despite what you’ve done and all that you’re capable of, I fell in love with you and I don’t regret it. But I’m scared of myself and what I can become.” He narrowed his eyes. “I’m human. A normal one, I always thought. I shouldn’t enjoy the taste of blood. I shouldn’t enjoy being covered in it. But I did, I do.” My lip trembled. “What does that make me?”

He grinned.

“Perfect.”

“I’m serious, Dracula.”

“So am I.”

“Please, make an effort to help. I’m this much away” –I measured with my thumb and forefinger– “from losing it.” He laughed. “I want to be with you  but I’m not sure what being a vampire means.”

“You proposed a deal to find out.”

“Yes, but I wasted it, didn’t I? Between being confused about you and then the Foundation… There’s not much I know.”

“Then ask.”

He resumed brushing my hair as he waited for a response. 

The face staring back at me in the mirror was my own. Would I have recognised myself covered in blood? Would I think it was a pretty image as Dracula thought? 

I imagined fangs in place of my incisors and canines, and screams of horror as I bore down on some pretty girl who begged for her life. My own laughter ringing in my ears. Death on my skin. And hunger, so much hunger. 

I blinked several times to clear my head. This is my face now. Clean, human. My teeth blunt, chewing on my cheeks. 

“Will I have to kill people?” I asked, unable to take my eyes away from the stranger in the mirror.

“You’ll want to.”

“How do you know?”

“Believe it or not, I am over five hundred years old and have had incredible amounts of practice in this matter,” he said, smiling at every word. “You’ll want to kill, and you’ll dream about it.”

“You were a killer long before you became a vampire. I won’t take your word so quickly when it comes to killing.”

“That is true. I’m very good at killing, always have been. However, I maintain my word. There is an urge for death that comes with the thirst for blood. It’s inevitable. I’ve seen it with all my little experiments.”

“But do I have to?”

“No, darling.” He gave me a reluctant smile. “You don’t have to. You can keep pets, if you like.” The way he raised one eyebrow told me we weren’t talking about the fluffy kind of pets. 

“Like you did with Renfield?”

“Renfield wasn’t a pet. Lucy, perhaps,” he shrugged, as he brushed through every strand of my hair to make sure they were completely detangled. “I’ve only drank Renfield once, you see, so he doesn’t qualify. Pets are good for when you need to be discreet–”

“Which you aren’t,” I quipped.

“– but it is fun.” He concluded, chuckling at my cheeky smile. “You can keep them alive for as long as you need them. Keeping more than one at a time is key for variety and to not tire them out, but it gets old fast. Eventually you’ll wonder how it feels to have a pulse slowing down between your teeth, to consume life and watch death take its place.”

“I may wonder, but I won’t act on it,” I muttered. Dracula raised his eyebrows, eyes sparking. “I won’t,” I repeated more strongly this time.

“Of course, darling,” he said, running the brush on my hair a few more times. “Done.” He rounded the chair and placed the hairbrush on the sink countertop. Standing in front of me, I noticed that the tips of his hair, pointing everywhere, were already drying. It was charming seeing him like this. He was always extremely composed every time I saw him. His chest hair was almost completely dry but the trail of dark hair leading to his belly button still had some beads of water. Earlier, he hadn’t allowed me to touch him and between ripping my clothes off and biting me, I hadn’t gotten a good look at him. “I'll order you food and if you still feel weak afterwards, you’ll drink my blood.” 

I looked up at that, blinking as my brain worked to process what he said.

“Maybe you should reword that and add a question mark at the end of that sentence.”

“It wasn’t a question.” He grinned. He scooped me up in his arms as if I was child. My protests were choked back in a yelp at the suddenness of the movement. The world glassed over for a second. I laced my hands around his neck, glaring at him. “If I have to hold your mouth open and make you swallow, I will. I can’t have you strutting around weakened.”

“You were asleep for the past century but it’s time you know that we have advanced in many ways and now we have something called  iron supplements ,” I told him as we left the bathroom. “You see, it comes in a tiny little pill and I take it 2 or 3 times a day–”

“My blood will have the same effect, if not better.”

“A while back you told me too much of your blood could affect me,”  I prodded, gaze locked attentively on his face. I wasn’t taking notice of where he was taking me, so when he suddenly sat down, cradling me in his arms, I found myself grabbing onto his neck in fear of falling off. Turning my head, I saw large, fluffy pillows in a dark grey bedding. His bedroom. Decor kept the same palette as the rest of the penthouse. The only light on came from behind the black headboard. “How?”

He moved me so that I could completely lean my weight on the arm he had on my back and my behind fit nicely on his lap. My towel slipped up near my knee, exposing one of my thighs. I tried crossing my legs to emulate some sense of decency but Dracula’s arm tucked under my knees had me in a steel grip. Again, I tried moving my legs, subtly nudging his arm, but he didn’t let go.

“To be quite honest–” he began slowly, catching me in his gaze “–I’m not entirely sure what the effects can be on someone willing.” He released one of my legs and as I tried adjusting myself on his lap, I felt his hand on my thigh, caressing up and down. A lazy caress, almost absent. “My brides were rather limited on that front.”

“Tell me about them.” I asked. “When we broke into the Painted Hall, you mentioned  you weren’t very successful with most of them. That they were nothing but shadows.”

“Must we reminisce?” He squeezed my thigh at the question.

“We must, yes. I need to know, and I need some assurances that I won’t become like them.” 

“You won’t.” His lips thinned, and I touched them with the tips of my fingers. They softened. 

“You can’t be sure,” I said, tracing his cupid’s bow and glancing up at those black eyes. I felt his lips stretching in a smile and I let my hand drop to his chest.

“I can.” He watched as his hand disappeared under the towel in his incessant caress. For a moment his hand slipped to my inner thigh and my breath hitched. His hand reappeared from underneath the towel and continued caressing me, apparently oblivious to my arousal. “None of them gave me their consent. Or loved me.”

“And those things make a difference?” I asked, a little breathlessly.

He followed the contours of my leg until my knee then again to my inner thigh. Up. Closer to where I was growing wet. His hand lingered between my thighs for a moment. A pulse started down low. He retreated a third time, and I choked back a whine. 

“Oh, yes, of course they do,” he said in a solemn tone, brows furrowed. “If you keep a flower caged, but give it water and light, do you think it’ll thrive as a wild flower does?”

“No.” The word was barely audible, and I shook my head to the sides to add to it.

“Correct.” His hand traveled up, and this time nudged my thighs to open. My fingers on the nape of his neck flexed. My heart beat at my center. At my throat it tried to break free, and gush as blood does. “I will not keep you caged, and everything you need I’ll give and you’ll take.” He frowned. “ In love.  What a stunning concept.” I felt the warmth of his fingers hovering, a near touch, almost ghostly. I arched my back in invitation and rose my hips to find an ending to this teasing. “Stay still. I’m trying to have a conversation.”

“Are you?” It came out in a smirk.

“Yes. You wanted answers, I’ll give them to you.” Air left my lungs in a shaky breath as his fingers finally touched me. Probing me, as in an examination. Fingertips slid over my entrance, soaked as it was, gathering some of the slickness to continue his exploration. “My last experiments were my better ones,” he continued in a conversational tone. “They weren’t obedient to me. Always ruled by hunger and desire to kill, they lost themselves, but they kept their appearance. Their body didn’t die but their minds did. They never consented or asked for immortality, and they fought me, oh how they fought me at first.” As he talked, his fingers never stopped moving but they were just exploring, seeking to perhaps memorise its details, lingering in a spot he thought interesting as he observed me, serious as ever. “But they soon learned I was their only source of food. I fed them bite sized meals–” he smiled, and dipped a finger in. Fearful that he would stop, I managed to keep my body still. A gasp escaped anyway but it didn’t seem to discourage him as a second finger joined with ease and I closed my eyes at the feeling. His fingers were much thicker than mine, and longer. He hooked his fingers up, and kept them there, simply putting pressure. If I rocked my hips in just the right way they would pump that precious spot. But I didn’t. I wouldn’t bear it if he stopped. “... but the effects faded quickly. Are you listening?” 

I nodded, my lip quivering. He started withdrawing his fingers, so I hurried on, “Y-yes.” 

“Darling,” he murmured, dipping in again and this time pumping up, “what did I just say?” A moan was my reply. I looked up at him, hoping that he would leave it be, but the twinkle in his eyes told me he wouldn’t. He was having too much fun. “Answer me.” Suddenly, his fingers were gone and he gave me a light slap on my dripping folds. My hips jerked in surprise. The second slap was less delicate than the first, making me yelp, and left a stinging pain. He soothed it by rubbing my clit, which felt all the more sensitive after being mistreated. “Let me know you were paying attention or I’ll stop.”

“Y-your blood, you gave it to them sometimes.” I said through my teeth, shutting my eyes with my all strength to try and concentrate. Another light slap. “They begged for more than scraps, more than–” I couldn’t utter the word ‘babies’. “Your blood made them more coherent and–” two of his fingers entered me again. A reward for speaking, I guessed. I needed more, and I forced myself to continue. “–and stronger. But it didn’t w-work for long.” 

“You listened. Good,” he praised. At some point I had put my hands in fists to try and remain unmoving, but as those fingers hooked up and the palm of his hand pressed up against my clit, I grabbed onto his shoulders to keep myself steady. Wetness spread down my thighs and buttocks as obscene sounds filled my ears. Pressure built as he rocked his hand. “It didn’t work because they were failures from the start, but, you are perfect. Look at me.” I opened my eyes, and saw myself reflected in the darkness of his. “You’re mine. My bride, my lover.” His fingers inside me beckoned me to come to him. I resisted, and by doing so I started shaking. “My blood is yours to drink. You will become more of what you already are by drinking it, that’s all. Now, move with me.” 

Striving for breath betweens moans, I buried my face in his chest as I arched my back and moved my hips to meet his upward thrusts. His palm pressed harshly as I fought to accompany each rub. My body seized, losing the delightful cadence that Dracula and I were making, but even as my hips bucked and my legs contorted and quaked, he continued moving his hand to press and rub until I felt lightheaded. Pleasure uncoiled, and snapped like a whip, tearing gasps out of me, and then surged in a wave of torpor. 

I collapsed in his lap and, withdrawing his fingers, he gathered me up in a near hug. I watched as he raised his hand, embarrassingly soaked, and put two fingers in his mouth. I was still breathless, but I forced my body to straighten up and grabbed his face, burying myself in his lips and tongue to savour my own taste.

“Greedy,” he chuckled when I pulled back with my chest heaving. “I’m well fed, for now. But you’re not.” He rose where we were perched and laid me on the bed. “I’ll order something for you to eat. Sleep in the meanwhile.”

My eyes shut of their own will as the pillow cradled my head. I felt Dracula taking the towel off of my body and covering me with a blanket. As I drifted to sleep, I heard myself saying, “I’ll drink you.” 

There was no response. 

 .

.

“Your neighbour still reeks of the undead.” Hoseok shrugs nonchalantly into his shiny purple flask, heart-shaped lips tainted by his drink of choice. Donor number 101018. The donor is female, maybe a woman around her early thirties. The disappointing aftertaste of stale blood trickles down his oesophagus and dissipates into his body that died almost eighty years ago.

Across the neglected living space Yoongi’s icy glare sticks to his unconventional choice of roommate. The pair have co-habited for almost four years and yet Hoseok’s lack of empathy, lack of humanity, still manages to get under Yoongi’s skin.

It’s no secret that vampires lack basic communicational skills, empathy even more so, in a way Yoongi knows he shouldn’t let Hoseok’s offhand bitchy comments bother him. Usually they do go unnoticed, but when you’re the centrepiece of said comments he finds it difficult to see past them.

“Looks like Jungkook didn’t entertain your warning after all.” Hoseok’s white teeth bare in a sinister grin, one that spreads from ear to ear and would make any other human uncomfortable in it’s presence.

“Yeah but why would he?” Yoongi scoffs, brushing the long brunette hairs away from his forehead, legs bouncing anxiously where he sits, “I’m not a hunter. I’m not even remotely a threat to somebody like him.”

“Somebody like him?” Hoseok parrots, brow quirking curiously, “Do elaborate.”

“I don’t have time for this shit.” Yoongi rushes to his feet, a drawn-out exasperated sigh escaping him. “You know full-well what I mean.”

“A vampire?” His roommate’s tone oozes mockery when he swills the contents of his flask round and round with slender, veiny hands. “You can say the word vampire Yoongi, it’s not a slur. It’s simply what Jungkook and I are. What we’ll always be.”

At this Yoongi bites back the urge to roll his eyes, knowing how much it infuriates his best friend. Truthfully he doesn’t have the energy to argue with him right now, nor does he particularly want to draw a sword in a battle he’ll ultimately lose. “I’m not a threat to Jungkook, of course he didn’t take my threat seriously. Clearly there’s more going on between him and Y/N than she’s letting on.”

The sea of possibilities is endless enough for your neighbour to drown and struggle to breathe. What is going on between you and Jungkook? Everybody knows humans fornicating with vampires is heavily, heavily frowned upon – in some cases completely illegal. But who is he to judge? He lives with the undead, his only real ‘friend’ being a certified corpse of almost eighty years.

Yoongi met Hoseok while working as a paramedic, when he was called to the scene of a house fire where everybody trapped inside was announced dead on the scene, their souls claimed by the roaring flames heating the night sky. Save for one man. One ghoulish looking, freakishly well preserved and eccentrically dressed man.

Yoongi knew straight away he was a vampire, he’d heard all about them and how you can spot them from a mile away. The warm sunset glow beneath their skin, their flawless features, and of course – their wine coloured eyes. Did he expect to find a friend within the monster who survived a house fire without so much as a scratch? No, he did not. But he did take an interest in him, having heard all about what a drop of his blood could do for someone in need.

At first Hoseok was hesitant to befriend the human, understandably so, until Yoongi confirmed the foundation of their ‘friendship’ was solely curiosity. Hoseok would provide the paramedic with blood samples to help save his patients in near-death conditions. Yoongi had a spare room in a judgement free space. It wasn’t ideal for either party involved, but it worked. It still works, mostly. Despite the fact Yoongi was caught medicating patients with vampire blood and fired on the spot, the two still remain friends.

“You can deny it all you want but I know you like her…” Hoseok calls out from the lounge while the other man walks away, even with his roommate’s back turned to him he can sense the annoyance and disgust, “You don’t play nurse for just anybody.”

Yoongi stills, taking a deep inhale. He doesn’t bother to glance back at the loudest dead man he’s ever had the displeasure of meeting, “I don’t want her to die, that’s all.”

That’s not all, not by a long shot. Yoongi has secretly admired you from afar since you moved into the building, taking an interest in your daily routine and what colour outfit you wear each day. He likes the little smile you give him when you wave, he even enjoys hearing the sound of that ridiculous early 2000’s pop punk playlist that seeps through your walls whenever you’re having a bad day.

It wasn’t until he saw Jungkook enter your apartment that he took it upon himself to be more present in your life. According to Hoseok, Jungkook is a very bad man. Dead man. Vampire. Whatever you want to call him, he’s evil. Though Hoseok has never delved into the specifics of how the two creatures of the night know each other. Hoseok doesn’t share anything personal about his past, and truthfully Yoongi has never cared. Up until now.

“Who says he’ll kill her?” In the blink of an eye Hoseok is standing in front of Yoongi, his masculine features eerily tugged up, amused, “Maybe he’ll change her.”

“That’s illegal.” Yoongi scoffs, “There’s no way she’d let him do that—”

“I’m sure she lets him do all kinds of illegal stuff to her…” Hoseok’s chuckle echoes like a sadistic villain in a movie, his grin widening, “If you want to be romantically involved with her you should—”

“Wanting somebody to stay alive is not romantic.” His retort laced with poison, veiny fists balling either side of his denim-clad thighs. There’s a stand off happening between the two friends, both parties exchanging heated eye contact before Hoseok’s nostrils flare, head snapping to the direction of the front door shockingly fast.

“Seems like your neighbour has a visitor…” His tone lowers, smile fading, “One of Jungkook’s creations.”

A series of loud knocks on your front door wins you to jump, cursing under your breath when you accidentally smudge the white varnish you’re painting your toenails with. Begrudgingly getting up from the sofa you drag yourself to the front door, praying to every higher power it’s not Jungkook standing at the other side of the wood.

‘If I had a soul it would already be yours.’

Jungkook’s heart-breaking confession plays clear as day in your mind, winning you to swallow. You haven’t seen him since, nor have you replied to his messages about making donations. Truthfully you can’t wrap your head around the events that transpired in his basement last week. Jungkook kissed you. What’s worse is how much you liked it, and how much it’s haunted your thoughts ever since. His lips on yours, the taste of his blood, the way your toes curled when he pinned you to a wall so hard that it crumbled around you.

And the way his fangs scraped the skin of your neck, almost biting you.

It’s with a lot of hesitance and mental preparation that you finally swing the door open, equal parts confused and relieved when you catch sight of Jimin standing before you. Every hair on your body stands to attention, guarding your suddenly cold shivering skin.

“Hi?” You’re frowning, as is he when his stern gaze flickers over your pink striped Hello Kitty pyjamas. “What do you want?”

You didn’t intend to sound bitchy and rude, it’s just that the only time you’ve seen Jimin out and about he physically shoved you into his car and took you to Jungkook. You’re not particularly dressed for such occasion tonight. Nor do you really want to see the owner of Euphoria either, not until you figure out what the hell it is he wants from you. And what you want from him.

Jimin smirks, taking it upon himself to lean against your doorframe, “Can I come in?” His crimson coloured eyes zone in on his fingernails and plentiful aged silver rings. It’s when he tucks the stray shiny silver hairs behind his ear that he glances to you again, seemingly growing impatient. “Please?” He grins, and your stomach churns.

“Why?”

He rolls his eyes, pushing himself off the doorframe with an audible huff, “I'd like to talk to you.”

“About what?” You cross your arms over your chest, standing your ground. If you let him inside he’ll have an open invitation for as long as your name is on the tenancy agreement. But as you watch his snake print Doc Marten tap the ground somewhat restlessly, your curiosity blossoms. “Is… Is this about Jungkook?”

At this Jimin’s smile darkens into something… sinister. Much like the setting of a cliché Halloween movie, the lightbulb in the hallway flickers behind him and his shadow grows in size. Sighing again, more exasperatedly this time, he buries his fists into the pockets of his black fitted suit trousers, visibly tensing his shoulders. There’s a mutual understanding between you, his crescent-like eyes already answering all your questions.

This is definitely about Jungkook.

“So. Can I come in?”

Much to the disappointment of your better judgement you find yourself nodding, lips pursing into a flat line before you pluck up the courage to speak. “Uh-, yeah come in.” You stand to one side, watching determined footsteps bring the first vampire you ever encountered into your home.

Despite the fact you weren’t expecting company tonight you still feel underdressed. Currently dressed in comfy pyjamas that drown your figure half-way through a selfcare evening, while Jimin’s wearing a snakeskin patterned shirt tucked into his slacks, perfectly matching his choice of footwear. His shirt sleeves are rolled up to his elbows, revealing tattoos you didn’t realise he had before. Much like Jungkook almost all his skin is littered with artwork, you catch yourself staring before he edges closer to your sofa. Sitting down.

“You know there’s a long term solution for remaining young and beautiful...” Jimin hums, taking your skincare products from the coffee table between his fingers with a scoff, “Does any of this actually work?” His eyes find yours, brows raised expectantly.

You bite back a laugh, not having expected such a normal conversation with the blood sucking demon currently wedged between two fluffy pink cushions on your sofa. “Umm. I think so, I mean I hope they do some of that stuff is expensive…” Your tongue awkwardly rolls over your teeth, “So… Is this about what happened when I visited—”

“Jungkook’s drinking your blood.” Jimin looks at you, through you, waiting for any kind of reaction.

“…What?” You whisper, heart hammering inside your chest strong enough to mistake the beat for palpitations. Palms sweaty, mouth dry. “What do you mean Jungkook’s drinking my blood?!”

At this Jimin audibly pops his tongue to the roof of his mouth, a distraction from the fact he’s rolling his eyes into the back of his skull again. Bored looking, unphased. “The vials of your blood you’ve been giving to him.” A single brow quirks, “He’s been drinking them.”

“H-how did-, how do you know about—”

“I found the empty vials.” He shrugs, chuckling softly to himself while adjusting his position, until his ankle rests on his knee, leaning back with a grin, “I could smell your blood in a blind line up without trying.”

“You’ve got it wrong,” You’re shaking your head, jumping to Jungkook’s defence a lot faster than you should, “He’s not drinking them, he’s running tests on them to see why my blood is… Different.”

Jimin loses it, throwing his head back in a fit of loud menacing laughter that makes you uneasy. He’s laughing so hard that he’s struggling to breathe properly, slapping his palm to his forehead. “The curse of humanity never fails to amuse me.” He snorts, too busy judging you to look your way. He continues, “Humans… So naïve. So painfully, obnoxiously ignorant to the world around them. Life isn’t a fucking fairy tale sweetheart.”

It's with a heavy heart and a sour taste in your mouth akin to battery acid that the penny finally drops, “There… There are no tests, are there?”

“Jungkook is many things, but a scientist?” Jimin’s still laughing, borderline hysterical at your naivety, “He’s no saint either, don’t act so surprised. He doesn’t have a soul much less a conscience.”

Anger floods your body like a roaring fire, prompting you to shift your weight between your legs, physically unable to hold still. “Why are you telling me this?” You snap, eyes glued to the man, the monster making a mockery of you in your own damn apartment. Pushing down your own emotions; the betrayal, the fury, the confusion. You try to keep your head blank of any incriminating thoughts about kissing Jungkook, knowing they’d be violated instantly.

The giggles stop, and Jimin’s voice deepens into something much more frightening.

He cranes his neck, hunching his muscular body forward on the sofa as if to get a better look at you. A look is an understatement. The way his icy glare drags up your pyjama clad body forces you to look away, until he’s standing before you faster than you can process. His nose is a hair away from your own, winning you to stumble back a few steps into the coat stand, knocking it over in a hurry.

“Sometimes it’s fun to play with your food.” A bloodthirsty smirk tugs the corners of his plump lips, “Nice seeing you Y/N.” A dreamy, satisfied sigh slips from him before he disappears.

That liar. That evil bastard.

You feel violated, disgusted and scared. Why would Jungkook lie to you about testing your donations? Why would he? Why would he ask you to you touch yourself? In his presence none the less.

‘Arousal makes the blood… sweeter.’

His words torment you like a painful mantra, like a sad song from your past. It all makes sense. The need, the urgency, the demand for you to keep donating. You feel like a fool for not connecting the dots sooner, but why would Jimin come directly to you with this information?

Unless he really is just a bored, ancient demon hellbent on causing trouble...

Sleep doesn’t come easy to you that night, you’re tossing and turning, back damp from equal parts sweat and blind hatred. You simultaneously want to confront Jungkook about this and never wish to see him again. But what’s bothering you more is the fact that… Had he simply told you the truth about drinking your blood, you genuinely don’t think you would’ve cared.

But he didn’t.

--

You’re sitting in the campus library revising for a big exam you have coming up, it’s nearly Christmas break and you’re almost done with college for a whole three weeks. That’s the only thing that makes sitting here for hours on end with your nose buried in five textbooks at once remotely worth it. You need a break. The plan is to go and visit Eddie and spend Christmas in your nightmarish childhood home. Frankly it’s better than being here, the prospect of seeing Jungkook equally as daunting as your mother. Maybe more so.

It's been all of twenty eight hours since Jimin showed up to your apartment unannounced and uninvited. Though technically the silver haired vampire is eternally invited into your home now. But it’s not like you gave him a spare key and orange juice on arrival, no, all you did was invite him inside. A mistake in itself.

Maybe you should move away after graduation? It’s not for another two years but it beats staying here in a spooky city riddled with crime and vampires. Two of which can stop by your place any time they’d like. Let’s be honest, it’s not like a simple lock and key would be able to stop them from getting inside.

“You’re Y/N, right?” The female voice drags you from your daydream. Peeling your stare from the book in hand, you turn to the owner of said voice.

A wave of recognition washes over you, it’s Betty. You’d met her at your first ever night at Euphoria, the same night Jungkook had sent you home for being ‘too good’ for his vampire customers. In reality he probably just wanted to control the situation, control you, keep you to himself. Keep your blood to himself. Swallowing, you physically shake the intrusive thoughts from your mind and offer the girl a small smile.

“Hey, yeah… It’s Betty, isn’t it?” You gesture to the empty green fabric seat ahead of you, and she slips into the space effortlessly despite her very big clunky black boots and oversized knitted dress.

“Yeah!” Her teeth are pearly white, contrasting against the red lipstick she’s showcasing. She really is beautiful, the epitome of lust even when dressed casually. If you had to describe her you would use the term ‘poster girl for pornography’. She’s a woman written for people who love women, who want to fuck women and repopulate the earth with them. Spend their lives with them, celebrate them.

Or to put it simply: she’s a hottie with the best damn body you’ve ever seen.

“I haven’t seen you since my first day at the club!” She whispers, briefly glancing round the busy library in search of nosey students, “You… You quit, right? That’s what Jungkook said.”

At this you fight the urge to scoff, she doesn’t deserve your venom after all, “Mmm. Well don’t believe everything Jungkook says.” You mumble, pawing at the stack of books between as a distraction.

Her pretty features tug with something quizzical, brows pinched, “Oh? Did something happen between you guys?”

“Nope.” You emphasise the ‘p’ with a loud popping noise, offering her a fake grin that she can clearly see right through, judging from the way she sits back in her chair and watches you even closer.

“I didn’t think he was like that…” Betty admits hastily, tapping manicured fingers to the table edge seemingly deep in thought, “I mean-, he’s hot! He’s sooooo hot. Like S tier hot, yknow? But I didn’t think humans were his—”

“Nothing happened. Honestly.” You lie, the truth being far worse.

It’s not about the morally grey fact you gave him your blood willingly. You’d met Betty at Euphoria – she’s doing the exact same thing every single weekend, as she was hired to do. Of course her donations were a little more intimate than anything you’d done with her boss but- well. Almost more intimate.

It was just a kiss. It was just a kiss. It didn’t mean anything to either of you.

‘If I had a soul, it would already be yours.’

“You should come to the party tonight!” Betty gasps as though she’s just had the eureka moment of the century, leaning forward, “There’s a huge party at Euphoria tonight for Taehyung’s birthday! You met Tae Tae, right? The blonde guy… Always sucking a lollipop. Or someone’s neck.” She giggles, adjusting the turtle collar on her dress. Telling you everything you need to know.

“I don’t think that’s a good idea.” You say cautiously, though you appreciate the invitation none the less, “Thanks though, I’m sure you’ll all have a great time.”

Betty waggles her slender index finger, flaunting a small dark snake tattoo that looks freshly done on the digit, “No no no no, you should definitely come. I know things didn’t work out work wise but it’d be nice to hang out with you!” She smiles, a single dimple piercing her left cheek, “Please? I only moved here recently and I don’t have any girl friends… Girls are usually intimidated by me.”

Maybe it’s the genuine desperation weighing her eyelids, or maybe it’s the idea of blindsiding Jungkook and confronting him about your donations. Whatever the reason, you find yourself crumbling and nodding along with her words, sighing. Quickly exchanging phone numbers and planning the night ahead.

Truthfully you don’t have many friends here either, and while your intentions may not be entirely genuine Betty does seem like a good person.

--

It’s almost 10PM later that night when you arrive at Euphoria via a very expensive Uber. It’ll be worth it, you mentally justify the money spent. It will be worth it. As will the goose bumps gifted by the cold winter air scraping your exposed skin. You’ve opted for a very revealing dress for maximum damage. The strapless black velvet dress plunges at the middle of your cleavage, leaving very little if nothing at all to the imagination. The swell of your ass is barely concealed, legs appearing a whole lot longer than they actually are with some assistance from your stiletto heels.

Is this what self-sabotage looks like? Jungkook could crush you like a grape juice box in hand, as any of his immortal staff members could. You know it’s a bad idea, but like you’ve told him before – it’s not like you have much to live for. You’ve nothing to lose at this point.

The security guard checks your ID and allows you to slip inside, you promised Betty you would meet her here at ten which makes you right on time. You’re surprised yet relieved when your purse goes unsearched, giving that you’ve brought a little insurance to keep you safe.

Truthfully ever since Betty invited you here tonight you've had one hell of a realisation. Jungkook could very well be the cure for your brother's rapidly approaching demise... You just need to keep your mind blank of any thoughts of your plans beyond the threshold of the club. They can read minds, and you won't fall into that trap again. While your chest bubbles and squeezes with something strange whenever you think about the last time you saw Jungkook... You push that down, deep, deep down until it's almost forgotten about. You're here for one reason and one reason only.

Euphoria is in full swing when you make it inside, the sexy bass-dominant song vibrating your bones, it’s deafeningly loud in your ears and you ponder if wearing a high ponytail was the right move to make. The fifty shades of red strobe lights are blinding, almost painful to look at and you can't quite make out the faces in the crowd. But you’re here. Full of adrenaline and a desire to piss off Jungkook. Another terrible, terrible idea.

It's when you make your way through the busy floor, ignoring the intense stares bruising your body, that you find Taehyung sitting on what can only be described as a throne in front of the main stage. You swallow a chuckle, vampires really know how to party.

“Hey, Taehyung?” You call out a little louder than you intended, winning every pair of fire-engine red eyes to snap towards you, like a vengeful moth to a vulnerable flame. “Have you seen Betty?” You feign confidence, feeling smaller than small when you catch sight of the birthday boy grinning wickedly. Removing a cherry lollipop from his plump lips with an audible pop.

Taehyung stands, adjusting his shirt with long fingers before his thick brows raise with something akin to genuine, human surprise. “Y/N? To what do I owe the pleasure?” He’s making his way over, lazy footsteps carrying his leather-clad legs your way.

“I’m looking for Betty, she said she’d be here…” You reiterate, swallowing your nerves. Useless really, giving that Taehyung and every other creature of the night can sense your inner turmoil from a mile away. “Have you seen her?”

“No, I haven’t.” His voice is deep, slightly croaky and albeit a little endearing to listen to, “Aren’t you going to wish me a happy birthday?” His smile broadens, his pink tongue rolling over his teeth salaciously. As if he’s staring at his next meal, feline eyes flickering to your exposed neck before settling back to your face.

It’s the shiny gold crown atop of his hair that you focus on, perfectly matching the long gold chain sitting behind the collar of his black silky dress shirt. “Happy birthday,” You offer him a closed smile, “How old are you?”

“Twenty nine if anyone else asks. I'm technically one hundred and seventy nine.” He hums with pride, returning the sticked candy to his mouth, crossing his muscular arms over his strong chest, “You know Jungkook won’t be happy that you’re crashing my party little one.”

“Betty invited me.” You mirror his movements, accidentally pushing the swell of your breasts up by doing do. The ancient yet well-preserved vampire notices, his not-so-subtle stare lands on your cleavage and stays there. He’s smirking.

“Betty’s not here right now.” He wets his lips, heavy eyes slowly trailing back to your face.

Right. Betty isn’t here right now when she said she would be. Less than ideal, giving that you’re in a vampire nightclub and know full-well how much everybody in here wants to kill you.

You nod, attempting to act indifferent, “She’ll be here soon…”

“And in the meantime,” He edges closer, until he’s less than arms-distance away from your body, “What do you say we have a little fun?” He grins, looking like the epitome of sin when he sizes up the pulsing vein on your neck.

That’s when your knight in shining armour swoops onto the scene, knocking Taehyung to the ground and keeping him there with a foot firmly pressed to his throat. The atmosphere shifts immediately. It’s intense, dark and frightening. But that doesn’t deter Taehyung, not in the slightest. In the blink of an eye Taehyung rushes to his feet, pinning up the other vampire to a nearby wall, vice-like grip crushing his throat. Jungkook doesn’t do as much as blink, nor does he fold.

Maybe knight in shining armour is an overstatement. More like your favourite blood thirsty enemy showing up and making a scene. Winning you more attention than you'd ever expected. Or wanted.

You’re standing there wide-eyed and frozen in place, like stunned frostbite has enveloped your senses. It’s a moment later when Taehyung is thrown to the other side of the club, his back slamming against the silver edge of the main stage – prompting the dancers to stop what they’re doing. Had Taehyung been human his spine would’ve shattered like a mirror, this being a brutally strong reminder he’s not. Nor is the creature responsible for such violence.

“What are you doing here?” Jungkook’s tone oozes wrath when his dark eyes snap to yours, teeth bared in an angry snarl that has you regretting the decision to come here immediately. He’s going to kill you.

You blink at him, astonished by his strength and burly behaviour, “I-, Betty invited me—”

“Now is that any way to treat the birthday boy?” Taehyung taunts as he jumps back over, scoffing when he’s squaring up to Jungkook right in front of you, “Maybe if you kept your pet on a tighter leash she wouldn’t be here.”

That’s when Jungkook loses what little remaining self-restraint he had left, delivering an uppercut punch to Tae’s sharp jawline so strong that he flies up to the ceiling, crashing into a luxurious chandelier. Sparkles fall from the impact, like beautiful glimmering raindrops scattering over the crowd. It’s like everything happens in slow motion, it’s gorgeous, until the screams of the customers remind you that the shimmers are nothing more than broken glass.

Jungkook’s inked fingers grip your wrist tight enough to snap bones, and quicker than you’re physically and mentally capable of processing you’re standing in a secluded room you’ve not seen previously. It’s a luxurious VIP room of sorts. There’s a bed adorned with plentiful red velvet pillows and an aged, steel medieval-looking pair of shackles tightly connected to a strong hook on the wall above the wooden headboard. Much like the rest of Euphoria this room has the undertone of seduction. Causing your heart to stutter twice as hard as it had just moments before.

It's dark in here, the only other person in the room barely visible under the dim burgundy lights that scream sex.

“I’ll ask you again,” Jungkook locks the door behind him, turning to face you with sharp features contorted with thunder, “Why are you here?”

“I was invited.” You bite between clenched teeth, ignoring the way his muscles flex beneath the very sheer black shirt he wears with every angry breath he takes. There's an almost floral-like pattern weaved into the mesh material, but it's very much the visibility of his tattoos and beefy body that you're looking at.

It seems as though everybody has dressed in all black today, something you’ve only just registered looking at Jungkook’s fitted black slacks and smart shoes of the same colour. Perhaps it’s a cynical joke within the vampire community. While they treat birthdays as a cause for celebration, maybe they’re all secretly mourning their stolen humanity.

Tousled hair frames Jungkook's jarringly handsome features, drawing attention to the way his expression drips with equal parts disgust and fury. “How many times do I need to tell you? You don’t belong here.” He takes a small step closer, cold stare burning a hole in your skull, “You shouldn’t have come here.”

“Yeah well I shouldn’t have done a lot of things.” You bark, trying to steady your shaky breaths. “Why are you so pissed that I came?”

The raw intent behind Jungkook’s eyes deepens with something indescribable, he’s slowly closing in on you like a lion would its prey, “When are you going to stop being so reckless with your mortality? You could’ve been killed—”

“If you wanted me dead I would be by now.” You mirror his previous words against him, fighting the urge to think of anything Jimin told you in private. Burying the real reason you came deep within the walls of you mind. He’s not going to find out you know by invading your mind, no, nor is he going to know why you're here until you want him to. You’re doing this on your terms.

“That’s beyond the point.” He scoffs, dragging his heels across the glossy tiled floor, it's shiny enough to mirror the reflection of his body, “Had I not been here to protect you Taehyung would’ve ripped your heart out without hesitation.”

“Protect me?” You chuckle humourlessly, holding strong eye contact and a proud spine when he’s no more than ten inches away from you, “Why do you want to keep me alive? Why don’t you want me dead Jungkook? Hm?” You frown, feigning confusion, “Is there something I don’t know? A reason my life is so damn important to you?”

Before you can spare a thought for Betty's whereabouts, for Jimin's confession, for anything beyond this moment, Jungkook’s heavy arms are around you. His tattooed hand gently tugging your ponytail back until your bare neck is exposed to the demon. He swallows, darting his tongue over his pierced lips to wet them.

"There's a reason I haven't killed you, the only reason I don't snap your neck where you stand." He hisses.

"Enlighten me then."

"It's selfish."

"I expected nothing less." You scoff, line of sight flickering to his lips on it's own accord. As much as you want to hate him, as much as you want to never see him again... You're drawn to him. You always have been.

Jungkook pauses, smirking slightly when he notices where you're looking, "Why are you here?"

You deadpan, "Why am I still alive?"

"Because it's in my best interest that your heart keeps beating." You're lost in his eyes, unwillingly, but they're so intense and haunting that you can't bring yourself to look away.

"...Why?"

“Because you make me feel like the man I never had the chance to become.” He lowers his face down, until his lips are brushing the skin of your cheek, barely a touch but it still earns shivers to run down your spine, your whole body trembling with anticipation, “The years I’ve spent thinking my soul was lost forever were nothing but a journey to find its other half…” His lips glide to the shell of your ear, his words barely audible when they fall from his mouth, “Right here, inside you.”

They’re just words. They’re nothing but words.

There’s an uncomfortable lump of yearning deep inside your throat that you’re struggling to swallow. The anger, the betrayal, the blood-curdling disgust at his lies is dissipating into your veins. Replaced by tingles and butterflies, a feeling so intense it’s as if every nerve in your body is aflame, every line of defence melting from the unmistakable fire of passion.

His lips are a hair away from yours, the soft bend of his nose resting on your cheek, face slanted, his eyes fluttered shut.

“To lose you, is my only fear.”

“You can’t lose something you never had.” You whisper back, and Jungkook’s heavy eyelids open just enough for him to analyse your reaction.

His breath is warm on your lips, contrasting against the coolness of his silver lip ring that’s somehow even closer now, “Having you would be an extraordinary honour, but my intention isn’t to seduce you.”

“Then what is your intention…?” You gasp quietly, thrown off-balance by the unexpected heat of this moment. Without realising it Jungkook has walked you back to the bed, allowing you to fall onto the mattress before he’s caging you in. His immortal being on top of yours, holding himself in place with one hand as the other trails the naked skin of your collarbone.

His eyes are stuck on you from above, messy hair tickling your cheeks when a gentle smile creases his supple skin. “Over the centuries I’ve seduced countless women, but now I’m forced to accept that you’re the only one to seduce me. My only intention is to finally submit to that feeling.”

Overwhelmed by this moment of forever, the white hot disgust in him long forgotten - you kiss him.

Your bodies mould against each other's, fitting together with a stunning perfection you’ve never felt before. His pouted lips are soft against your own but desperate, moving so quickly that the air is knocked from your lungs. Your tongue slips into his mouth and is messily greeted with his own, the two muscles working in perfect sync when a blissful sigh fills the otherwise silent room.

“But... What if I want you to seduce me?” You pant between a string of kisses so hungry your whole body feels starved of touch. The mutual greed for each other is unsatisfiable, your fingertips are buried in his long raven locks, his free hand exploring your curves with so much pressure that you know you’ll be bruised.

But you don’t care.

Jungkook pulls back with long fangs, a heaving chest and a voice so horse and thickened by lust that it sends a pang of heat straight to your core, “I’ll have you in every way I can get you.”

He kisses you again, and this time there’s a familiarity of his lips brushed against yours that consumes you. Like two halves of one whole finally shredding their pride and submitting to their fate. He takes you by the waist and flips your bodies atop of the mattress, until your legs are straddling his thick thighs and he’s laid flat on his back.

Leaning down you crush your lips to his, physically incapable of breaking the bond between you. Jungkook’s hands fly up to the headboard so strongly that he breaks the wood, it’s crumbling between his fingertips but he never stops kissing you back. Not once. Not even to stop you from pushing the thin material of his shirt up his body, until every bump and crevice of his taught abdomen is hit with cold air.

Busying his hands with tearing the throw pillows apart he deepens the kiss into something more. Something that has your body screaming for him to be closer, something that ignites your body from your scalp to your toes.

“Even in death, I’ve never felt so alive.” He heaves against your mouth, distracting himself from the desire to feed by gripping your hips and pulling you closer to his noticeably growing anticipation.

“Ah.” You hiss, wincing in pain when the hold of your bones is harsh enough to crush them, “Jungkook…” You whisper, breaking away from his mouth, “You’re hurting me.”

With no hesitation spared Jungkook removes his hands, snaking one up to his fangs where he plunges them deep into his wrist. The eternal crimson liquid stains his lips before they find yours again, the taste of his blood providing you with a rush of euphoria. The ache in your hips seemingly never existing to begin with.

All you can think about is his nearness, the fact your bodies are writhing around so fearlessly swept up in each-other’s presence. Nothing else matters. He’s addicting. His body, his lips, and dare you say it even his blood.

Reality wins you to pause, take a beat away from him to catch your breath. This is the same vampire that lied to you about your blood donations, the same vampire who has been slugging back shots of your DNA as if it were the most normal, mundane thing on earth.

“I want you,” Jungkook pants, showcasing his inhumane strength when he’s flipped your bodies until you’re the one pinned down. There’s a loud snap from beneath you and you’re almost rolling off the mattress before he catches you, adjusting your positions until you’re at the other end of the bed. The wood crumbles beneath your weight, feathers exploding in the air when he takes a fistful of pillow beside you.

“All of you. Your mind, your body… Your soul.” He pants, lips trailing down your neck in a string of wet kisses that make your head spin, “My deepest desire is to conquer everything you have, everything you are. Until you’re mine.”

But his list is one detail short. Your blood.

A surge of arrogance rushes through you, prompting you to push him back and climb on top of him. To your equal parts surprise and relief he allows this, his body shuddering with something you feel too. Unmistakable, undeniable, uncontrollable lust. You distract him with your kiss, not missing the way a low moan slips into your mouth along with his tongue. Your body is desperate for more, as is your heart. But much to the disappointment of your libido you listen to your brain and restrain him. Binding his hands with the shackles you spotted on arrival.

As soon as they click into place you find the strength to peel away from Jungkook, after one final kiss. A kiss you’re certain will be your last, so you make it count. You kiss him again and again, until the remains of his blood is smeared across both your lips. Until you’re gasping for air. Until he registers where his hands are placed and what you’ve just done.

“Don’t be scared,” He coos, leaning forward where his tongue meets the structure of your jawline, licking the skin so sinfully you have to bite back a groan, “Untie me, I want to feel your body writhe beneath mine when I annihilate you.”

Despite the overwhelming urge to see his words through, you stop. You muster the strength to get off the now very broken bed and stand before him. Adjusting your dress that apparently was pushed up to reveal your underwear merely moments before. Glancing round the room in search for your purse you find it, holding it between your fingers when Jungkook’s deep voice catches your attention.

“Did I hurt you?” The guilt in his voice is enough to tug at your heartstrings, and you have to remind yourself of the lies he’s told you. Where your donations were really going all this time. You swallow, finally looking his way.

He’s a mess. A heavy breathing, pornographic looking mess. Raven wayward hairs tickle the bridge of his nose, but it’s his blood-stained lips and prominent fangs that remind you that ending this here was the right decision. No matter how badly you want him, how much you crave his touch, his body, his heart. He’s a monster. A vampire. A liar.

“No, you didn’t.” You mumble, swallowing.

It’s now or never, you’ve managed to keep these thoughts at bay this entire night. The whole reason you came here to begin with. You never intended for it to go this far, you didn’t plan on anything like this happening at all. But once again you found yourself caught in the sticky web of the most handsome demonic spider you've ever encountered.

“What’re you doing? What’s in the bag?” His angled chin tips to your purse, noticing that your anxious gaze keeps flickering between him and the accessory.

“Insurance.” You whisper.

“Insurance for what?”

The sexual tension has shifted into something much, much darker. Now that your breaths are steady and your mind de-clouded from the spell of Jungkook’s lips you know what you have to do. You think about Eddie, his condition, how much pain your twin brother is in every single day.

And how you can stop it.

“I need a vial of your blood.” Your eyes snap to his, and he looks hurt. The calmest expression haunts his handsome features, but in spite of the fact he doesn’t visibly seem angry – you’ve never been more terrified of him. “My-, my brother is terminally ill. I need—”

“Untie me.” He growls, the chains clanging against the steel hook on the wall. You recognise the scripting of the shackles, they're identical to the ones in his basement, you know that for whatever reason he’s bound by them until you say otherwise. “So that’s why you came here tonight, hm? For my blood.”

“It’s the least you can do for me.” You sniff. To bring up the lies, or to leave them in the dark? Now that is the question.

“I’m not giving your sick brother my blood. I don’t give anybody my blood, it’s mine.”

“You gave it to me.” You remind him, reaching into your purse for your ‘insurance’ that he will do as you say. One way or another you’re going to use him exactly how he used you, and hopefully save your brother’s life in the process.

Jungkook’s features drop until no emotion remains, “That’s different. You're different. You can take me in every way imaginable.”

“I won’t ask you nicely again.”

“I implore that you don’t.” He scoffs, “It’s never going to happen. You’re the only exception.”

With a pounding heart and sweaty palms you peel the gun from your purse, clicking the safety off before you aim it toward the one thing standing in the way of Eddie’s recovery. Jungkook is amused to say the least, a sinister grin tugging the corners of his blood-stained, pierced lips when a light-hearted sigh escapes him.

“Do you know anything about vampires? That won’t kill me.” He chuckles, shaking his head in disbelief, “Either stop talking nonsense and untie me, or get over here so we can finish what we started. I’m willing to overlook your little outburst just this once.”

Ignoring his pleas you nod, slowly, calculatedly, “I might not know much about your kind but I do know one or two things about you…” You whisper, flexing your wrist until the barrel of the gun is pressed tightly against the hollow of your temple. The temperature of the cold weapon shocks you enough to drown out the sounds of Jungkook battling with his restraints, snarling and swearing that you release him immediately.

“I have no reason to live, yet every reason to die.” Your eyes well up with tears, you’ve ingested vampire blood. Jungkook’s blood. If he doesn’t give into your commands you’ll be one of his kind for eternity… It wasn’t the plan, but it’ll have to suffice, you know you won’t get this chance again.

“Give me your blood Jungkook. Or you’ll lose your pet blood bag forever.”

“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.