Chapter Text
"I want a taste of you
You tear my heart in two
Why do I waste my youth?
Come back, I always do"
Jungkook's mother was an artist.
She possessed the delicate hands of a painter and the creative mind of a writer.
She was a talent, but her skills didn't come from years of practice, soft wooden brushes in her hands. Her medium wasn't acrylics or charcoal or anything the humans had created to smear across canvases.
No, her steady hands and poetic mind came from years of killing, years of sinking her fingers and fangs into human flesh. She painted with blood, marring the delicacy of innocents on walls and floors.
Because like her mother, and her father, and his father before him, she was a vampire. A pure-blooded one at that. A being so old and so powerful, that her very name carried a weight even in the furthest and darkest corners of the world.
That name being Jeon.
Jungkook's bloodline was almost older than time itself, his great-great-grandfather had been there when the world first tilted on its axis and spun to life. He watched from afar as Adam and Eve breathed their first gulps of air, and watched them cave to madness and sin.
The Jeons ruled over the lands and would continue to do so in Jungkook's name once his mother died.
Jungkook taps his fingers along the side of his armchair. The fabric is leather and feels cold as he sprawls his hand out to feel it. There's a familiar buzz of voices around him as he sits in a larger sized room, the seats and tables all pointed towards the stage that takes up an entire wall. His red eyes boredly trail the masses around him, all familiar faces of course, as he sits upon a crowd of only the most elite and noble vampires.
He wants to sigh, but he knows showing any inkling of emotion will spark up a conversation with one of the many vampires surrounding him. They call converse in small talk, grouped up in their favored seating arrangements, but Jungkook takes note of how their bodies all face him.
They're all on alert, waiting, stalking, for an opportunity to pull the Jeon heir into a conversation, all eager to get onto his good side.
So, he settles for taking a long sip out of his wine glass. The blood slips down his throat with ease and he relishes the flavor. He can practically still feel the life in the dark liquid, meaning it's only been bled from its previous owner within the hour. He internally curses at his mother.
While he wasn't sure if he could say he loved the woman, he found her to be one of the few living beings deserving of his respect. She was a strong person, and strength was something their kind valued immensely.
And while she presented as a perfect ruler over the city, Jungkook found her to be rather packed full of flaws, as for instance, she hated socializing. The result of her reluctance to fraternize with anyone put Jungkook in many difficult positions.
The Jeon name was a name that held much weight and depth to it in their society, but there was much to do to ensure it stayed that way. And since his mother so desperately refused to attend social gatherings, and there now only being the two of them after his father's passing, the heavy burden of reminding the public they existed fell onto Jungkook's shoulders.
A noblewoman to his left giggles and he tries to hold his eye back from twitching at the screech.
"Ladies and Gentleman," a voice echoes in the hall, and a hush falls over the crowd. "We'll begin here shortly, so please return to your seats and ready your paddles!"
Jungkook finds amusement in the way the nobles scurry to do as told. They're such high and mighty people, but they roll over and bark like bitches if the right person tells them to.
He's currently at the yearly auction, a place where noble and pureblood vampires gather to squander their money on new blood banks.
Jungkook has never bought from one in his many years, as he never found the need to. He knows that the humans who run the auction spend months upon months preparing the merchandise and finding only the prettiest and softest humans to put on sale, but with Jungkook's pure lineage and noble prestige, comes an inkling for pickiness.
He can't feed from just any human off the street. He keeps a harem of blood banks at home, humans he's found that meet his standards, and even then, sometimes some of them fail to fully quench his thirst.
The lights dim, signaling the start of the event. Jungkook loses interest quickly, as he usually does.
The humans set to be auctioned off always present themselves with a talent, a showcasing of their value. It's usually the playing of an instrument or a dance, things vampires would like their newest blood bank to do for them.
Then, the auctioneer comes back onto the stage and the nobles take their turns placing their bids. And as usual, no one catches Jungkook's eyes, albeit, he's really not paying all that much attention.
Not until he smells it.
It's faint at first, but the scent immediately pulls the vampire in. It's soft; a light smell of lilies and lavender. A human scent. Humans almost always smell herbal and earthy.
His red eyes stand wide as the lights dim once again. A small blonde human takes center stage. A soft melody plays in the air around them and the mortal begins to dance.
Jungkook can't take his eyes off him.
He's beautiful, dizzyingly so.
His flesh is pale and glistens under the stage lights. It's tender and soft and he feels the itch in his fangs to sink his teeth into it like it's butter. His eyes were an intricate shade of hazel, soft greens and browns swirling around as he looked wide-eyed around him, like every fiber of his being was on high alert as he wore his fragile, pulsing heart on his sleeve. His outfit is endowed in gold, made up of thick body chains and sheer silk that does little to hide his body; his unblemished and enticing skin is out on display.
He was the kind of beauty that shouldn't be hidden, should be worshiped and praised as it is deserving, but Jungkook wants to reserve it for his eyes and his alone. He finds, for once, his gaze is not predatory, he merely wants to protect and cradle the small human within his pupils.
The blonde's song comes to an end, and he stands center stage his chest heaving slightly, but Jungkook is not any less entertained. He's bewitched by the rise and fall of his body as he breathes, and his fingers itch to feel the heartbeat pulsing in his pale veins.
"Park Jimin, Ladies and Gentleman, auction number 37! You may now place your bids!" The commentator comes on stage, clapping gleefully as he does, and immediately his fellow vampires in the crowd begin shouting numbers.
Jungkook can feel it.
His mother used to tell him stories when he was young, and she was still in love and affectionate, that Eve was created from Adam's rib, and maybe that's why Jungkook's ribcage aches as it does. Or maybe, he's just breathless for the first time in eons, the feeling unknown and new.
Because Jungkook knows.
This human is his.
He lifts a hand, only slightly, his elbow not even parting from the silky black chair he sits upon, and instantly the crowd goes silent. Vampires turn to stare and gape before they all start to announce the retracting of their bids.
"A million," he says.
And as the small blonde's eyes meet his burning red ones, he thinks that maybe, just maybe, this human was created for just him.
"I'm so sorry, sir," Jimin bows deeply, the sheer silk on his shoulders falling forward slightly, "I don't understand what happened. It was all going well. Almost every vampire had bided on me, but they all took their bids back."
"What did you do? Did you speak? My kind hates when things like you speak out of turn," Seojun says, an ugly sneer on his lips.
They're tucked away into one of the auction house's private rooms, waiting for Jimin's new owner to collect him. The human girl on his arm giggles as she traces the rim of the wine glass she's holding. Jimin pities her as she's obviously been drugged with Ecstasy, a Vampirine drug that sweetens and thickens a human's blood immensely but is fatal to the mortal that consumes it.
She has a few hours left at best, that is if Seojun doesn't drink her dry first.
"No sir," Jimin bows again. Seojun sighs, throwing his head back and Jimin immediately falls to his knees. Jimin knows the male's mood swings better than he knows most other things.
He was uneducated, his parents had sold him off into the blood trade before he could truly learn how to read or write, but through his years, Jimin has become well-versed in the ways of words and emotions. His well-being depended on the mood of the people around him, so it was safe to say he became the rather observant type.
"There was a man in the back. He bided and they all pulled back."
"Don't lie to me, human. There's no vampire with that much control other than the Jeons, or maybe the Kims, and they don't bid."
Jimin tries to hold back his sigh as he folds his hands neatly in his lap, staring at the tiled floor. "I would never lie to you, sir-"
"Shut your mouth," Seojun is in front of him within milliseconds, and Jimin flinches back at the cold air that gusts across his bare skin. Jimin's jaw aches from how hard he has it clenched. He feels familiar clammy hands grip at his jaw, angling his head to the side. "You're lucky someone bought you, or else I would have had my way with you the second you left the stage."
Jimin's situation was a rare one. Not in the sense of being sold off by his own family, no, that was more common than one would think or like to admit. It was particular in the sense that his handler was a vampire. Most sellers in the blood trade were human. People who capitalized off of selling their own kind to thirsty vampires with heavy wallets.
Vampires and Humans had a long going alliance, that seemed to serve both parties well enough. Vampires weren't allowed to swoop in and kill innocent humans in the streets, but humans were to be sold to them, and by law, it had to be other humans doing that selling, to ensure the merchandise's wellbeing.
But not for Jimin.
The banker who had bought him off the slave market had been none other than a vampire.
Jimin supposes it could be worse. Seojun doesn't drink from him like he does his own personal blood banks, no, Jimin was bought with the sole purpose of reselling. He was trained in the arts of dance and painting. He was put on diets to sweeten and thicken his blood. Seojun may not be nice, but at least he had an obligation to keep his nasty fangs out of Jimin's pale neck.
Jimin takes a deep breath as Seojun takes a deep inhale from his neck. A shiver cascades down his spine as the vampire all but moans in his ear. "Actually," he sounds breathless as he mumbles to the human, "I should have a good hour before your new master comes to get you. Could sink my fangs in and drink you down like I've been wanting to. Lick you up afterward to make sure it's healed."
"My blood would be tainted," Jimin makes sure his voice comes out small, he wants Seojun to think he's scared, that the vampire is in control, but he also ensures his voice is even and final.
Jimin can't help the gasp he emits as his head is pulled back by a harsh hold on his soft blonde locks. His lips turn up in a snarl as Seojun licks a fat stripe up the side of his neck, tasting the salt still on the human's skin from his performance. Jimin understands why Seojun is suddenly so insistent on the passes that he's making. Jimin has been his possession for so long, sitting prettily and untouched right under his nose, now he was being taken away. Vampires were possessive and obsessively territorial by nature.
But he's not Seojun's anymore.
So, Jimin does something he's wanted to do for a long, long, time. He rears back, and slams his face right into the vampire's, who goes spiraling back, clutching his nose. Within a flash, the man has his sharpened fingers in Jimin's hair, throwing him to the side as he shouts enraged. Jimin doesn't regret it though, he smiles to himself as he watches as the vampire pulls his fist back, knuckles heading straight for Jimin's stomach. The human seals his eyes shut and braces for impact.
Much to his surprise, said impact doesn't come. The fingers in his hair loosen considerably and his eyes shoot open as an iron smell tinges the air. A gasp falls from his lips and he falls to his knees, suddenly nauseous.
Before him, Seojun's decapitated body falls to the side.
Another gasp rips itself from Jimin's body as he takes in the sight of the man behind the new corpse.
Blood drips from his long thin fingers, sharp nails tinged with crimson at their tips. His face was flawless, like god spent hours perfectly shaping the structure of his cheeks and nose. His red eyes sparkle something animalist, and Jimin believes god indented on that too. That he placed thousands of galaxies within the depths of his irises.
His very existence seems to scream danger and Jimin thinks the man is nothing short of beautiful, but it was always the most attractive things that were the most dangerous. Insects were attracted to the brightest flowers, and the brightest snakes were always the most deadly.
The man lifts his hand, leaving a trail of dark blood on his pale skin as he traces Jimin's cheekbone and Jimin can feel it.
Can feel it in his very core.
"Let me take you home, little human."
This man, this inhuman monster and cold-blooded killer, will do him no good.
The vampire squats, spreading his thick thighs that ripple with raw strength onto either side of the blonde human. Jimin knows it’s not supposed to be a display of power, the vampire is merely trying to invade his space, but it reminds Jimin once again just how different the bodily anatomy of their kinds was.
A cold palm is placed against his cheek, and Jimin shudders under the fingers that trace and thumb at his bottom lip. “Do not fret, my love. I shall not harm you. With me, there will be nothing but promised safety within my mansion. I do not find pleasure in taking unwilling banks or in the use of ecstasy.”
He pulls Jimin’s bottom lip down fully, and Jimin’s tongue lashes out like a viper protecting its den, the tip of the pink flesh making contact with the man’s intruding finger. It tastes disgusting, the way the blood of the undead and dying does. The vampire smiles.
“I wish to take you from here, but I’ll only do so if you give yourself to me willingly.” He states.
A gentle and bloodied hand takes his own within its stronghold and Jimin looks back to the couch where Seojun once sat. The human girl is lying on her side, drool down the side of her face and she gargles like a newborn child.
Yes, it could be worse.
So, Jimin intertwines his small fingers with the vampire's much larger ones and lets the man whisk him away into the cold night.
Jungkook settles Jimin down in his harem, giving him his own private room on the harem floor of his mansion. It's packed full of ten, Jimin marking the eleventh, humans he's collected to serve him as his blood banks.
He doesn't call for Jimin. Doesn't touch him. He refuses to do so, despite the way the human constantly plagues his mind.
Because that's what Jimin is; a plague.
He consumes every fiber of Jungkook's being and leaves him sick to his stomach. Not sick in the way where he's upset or tired, no, no negative connotations could ever be attached to Jimin, but in the way, he feels empty when the human isn't in his line of sight.
Jimin doesn't see any of Jungkook in his first week, but Jungkook sees all of Jimin. Jungkook watches him from the shadows, almost day and night. He can't help it. He'd made a promise to himself to keep himself away.
The look of pure and uncontainable fear the small human had given him the night that Jungkook had asked Jimin to come away with him still sits heady and hot in his mind. Jungkook hated the taste of fear in his food, he much preferred lust and wine.
And, Jimin is untainted, no fangs have ever been embedded into his flesh, and as much as he loves that, he loathes it as well, as it means Jimin is much more fragile than a tainted human. His body is not yet accustomed to the saliva and bite of a vampire, and he was likely to fall sick after Jungkook's first feeding.
Gods, how much Jungkook wanted to feed.
He feels like he's a fledgling again, he's teething by how much his fangs ache to sink down into his flesh. He finds himself falling into mindless daydreams of it as he gazes upon the human from afar. Jimin is a simple being, he finds pleasure in mundane things like reading and painting, and Jungkook finds pleasure in watching him be mundane.
He watches with invasive eyes as Jimin's short and chubby fingers turn the pages of his book. Watches as he scratches the back of his blonde locks as he giggles at the ink on the paper. For the first time in what feels like his entire immortal life, Jungkook feels jealous. There's never been something that he wanted that wasn't his.
And Jimin is his. He sits ready in wait at his beck and call, but the small smile that leaves the vampire floored belongs to none other than words on a parchment page.
Jungkook also discovers through his watchful eyes, that Jimin is good at people. He handles the other humans and vampire servants with ease. He finds the blonde is almost an entirely different person depending on who is in the room with him.
But as he watches Jimin, neglecting the paperwork sitting in wait in his office, he also watches the people he interacts with.
His other blood banks have caught on to the fact Jungkook has never called for Jimin. Some view Jimin with pity, he can tell what they are thinking as they smile in his direction and offer up teas to ease stress. They think Jungkook has no desire for Jimin, that he'll rot away in the back of the mansion untouched by the vampire. But Eunjae, Dowa, and Gunwoo were never the sharpest tools in the shed. That was probably why they had grouped together, finding likeness in the simpleness of their minds.
Minsoo on the other hand, is one of Jungkook's more intelligent blood banks.
He sees the look in her eyes as she treats Jimin the way she does. Jimin is receiving special treatment from Jungkook, even if the treatment comes in the form of being lack thereof. Jimin isn’t expected to serve Jungkook the way the rest of them are, and he can see the way Minsoo's eyes burn in jealousy.
Minsoo had always been expectingly perceptive, and that was probably why Jungkook had taken to her the way he did. She knew when to shut up and could read his moods fairly well. She was always so eager to please but Jungkook firmly ignored the crush she obviously had on him.
Besides, she had taken a hold over his harem, and had become a demanding presence. He was aware of what she did within his walls, she had shed blood, all in his name, but he found that as long as he had a good picking of blood banks left, he didn’t quite care as she ran her rampages.
Jungkook had never felt the urge to make sure his blood banks were content and happy before. He acted accordingly, of course, but gave nothing more than the luxurious life he offered them.
But he finds once again, that he's willing to break his own rules for Jimin.
That's another reason he keeps his distance as he does. Jungkook hasn't felt an inkling of anything akin to human emotion in an eon, and within his week with Jimin staying within his home walls, he thinks he's felt just about every feeling his cold and unbeating heart can.
And if this is how he feels just from looking, he’s unsure if he can handle the waiting dangers that will come with the feeling that overtakes him when he finally allows himself to touch.
"Of course, Master Jimin-shi," his maid bows, and scurries off to get the tea he's just requested. Jimin had thought he'd live a life of luxury after he was bought, but he had thought the privilege would be long outweighed by the cons and much to his surprise, he finds he was wrong. Something he usually isn't.
It's been nearly two weeks since he watched his new master decapitate his old one and then was welcomed into his large mansion.
He's seen very little of the man named Jeon Jungkook, but he's learned a lot about him.
He learns how Jungkook likes his teas. Learns what kind of books he reads. What his work schedule is. His family tree. His close friends' names and their family trees. He's taught how to behave and dress the way Jungkook likes all by an elderly lady; Mrs. Choi as he calls her. She's one of the few human workers in the mansion, and the family has served Jungkook's for as long as she can remember. Jimin is taught to be a perfect blood bank, all for Jungkook, but Jungkook never calls.
He also learns, that not everyone in the harem is welcoming of his presence. Sure, there are some who treat him kindly, but he feels like the ones with real power and influence don't. That being Minsoo. A young beautiful girl only two years older than him. She's everything he isn't. She's elegant and well-spoken. Her legs are long and thin, accompanied by luscious locks of dark black hair. They couldn't be more opposite, he thinks.
He hears a knock at his door and he has to stop himself from cussing allowed. He'd heard of people of dark magic being summoned by thoughts, and he thinks Minsoo would make a fitting witch.
"Minsoo-shi," he gets up from where he'd been sitting in the small study. It was nothing but four walls, a bay window, a bookshelf, and a small tea table, but Jimin had found it to be homelier than any other extravagant room he'd discovered in the Jeon mansion.
"Jimin-shi," she greats, looking around at the walls with inquisitive eyes. "Would you mind if we had some tea together?"
Jimin likes to believe that he was born with a strong gut. It acted like a sense of danger and had never led him astray. It told him what he needed to know when needed to know it, and nothing has ever compared to the foreboding feeling he felt as he settled into the chair across from Minsoo.
Jimin really doesn't know how it escalated this fast.
He'd expected everything that came out of Minsoo's mouth. Jungkook was hers. Had been since she moved in. She was in control of the harem, everyone did as she told them to. He was to turn her in the future, and they'd mate. And blah blah blah, with all the other delusions she'd packed herself full with.
Well, almost everything.
He'd expected an outburst when he'd told her he doubted Jungkook would have bought him if he had intentions of mating Minsoo in the future. That a vampire turning a human was taboo, and he doubted a vampire such as a Jeon could ever love enough to break that.
He'd expected a slight physical altercation when he'd told her he wasn't going to be one of her pets. He was going to continue acting independently and would not be following her orders. That's why he asked Mrs. Choi to sit outside in case things escalated.
Because he knew they would.
Just not as fast or as badly as they did.
He hadn't expected Minsoo to charge at him, knife in hand. He wasn't even sure where she'd gotten it from.
He had screamed for help, for Mrs. Choi to get a vampire that could hold Minsoo down. But Minsoo had made up her mind. Jimin needed to be out of the harem, she'd said. He was disrupting the balance. She'd killed other blood banks for much less before. It was her job to protect the peace Jimin was apparently destroying.
It had only been self-defense.
He hadn't meant it.
He just didn't want to die.
It was self-defense.
Since meeting Jimin, Jungkook has found less pleasure in the world around him.
It was hard for him to find beauty the way he used to when he was just a small fledgling. Time dulled meaning and true impact, as eventually, everything became repetitive and unoriginal. The only thing he could ever find himself marveling at the sight of was intricate art pieces that had taken the finest hands years to complete.
But now, he found himself at a loss as even his favorite paintings looked dull and lifeless. Nothing could even burn a candle next to Jimin's flame. He was a firm believer in morbid poetic tendencies, such as; that there was no true thing as happiness, or that perfection didn't exist, despite the way everyone around him so desperately chased it, but Jimin had him standing corrected as he looked at the human before him.
He was covered, from his dainty fingertips that he had once believed couldn't harm a fly, to the creases of his elbows that seemed as if they'd shattered if looked at for too long. The dark liquid encased his expensive Victorian flooring and Jimin kneeled in the very center of the small ruby sea. Droplets of the liquid were splattered onto his face like constellations that held every secret within their stories.
This, this Jimin was perfection.
"What happened, little love?" Jungkook takes a calculative step into the room.
He already knew, of course. Mrs. Choi had busted into his office as he was finally working on the paperwork his mother had assigned him. She has been so distraught it moved even Jungkook into action. He'd asked her the same question, without the affectionate nickname.
"J-Jimin-ah," she'd panted. "Minsoo a-attacked-" he didn't stick around to hear the rest of her words. He was across the mansion within seconds.
"I won't say I'm sorry," Jimin beats back without wasting a second, "if that's what you're expecting."
Yes, this was perfection.
This was art in its purest form.
The eyes the small human looked at him with were empty. A look Jungkook had only seen within the dark irises of elderly vampires, beings that had lived for so long and taken so many lives. They were cold, like a raging winter storm blew within, whose winds held mercy for nothing and no one. And they look so sinfully beautiful surrounded by the human's delicate facial features.
"I expect nothing from you, I thought I made that clear," he takes another step forward, treading carefully towards the blonde on the ground. "I haven't asked anything of you for as long as you've stayed here in my home, have I?" He knows he needn't treat Jimin the way he is, like he's a small animal that will scatter at the sight of danger, but he finds himself too scared to break the hypnotic feeling the human has budding in his chest.
"That was before I killed your favorite whore," Jimin sniffles, and Jungkook can see the tear stains under the sparkle of blood on his delicate cheekbones.
The human had been crying.
He finds that he doesn't like that, but not because he doesn't like the idea of something moving the small being to tears, but because he is upset he had missed it. Jimin crying must be beautiful, like diamonds falling from the sky, that would taste so sweetly salty on his tongue.
Jungkook tsks. "Not my favorite anymore, now is she?"
Jimin quirks his head, the numbness never leaving his eyes despite the way his face continues to blossom in expressions. Always so expressive. "You're not upset?"
"No, my love, I'm not, not at you," Jungkook does something he hasn't done in years. He falls to his knees before the human, gathering his lithe frame in his arms, only momentarily glancing at the corpse beside them. "I just wished I would have been here to watch," he smiles, his fangs peeking out from behind his wine lips.
Jimin sniffles again, staring at Jungkook's collarbones. Jungkook lifts the human's hand and slips a bloodied finger into his mouth. He nearly moans as the taste hits his tongue. "Don't," Jimin rasps, but makes no move to pull away, "dead man's blood."
"It takes nearly a week for the blood to rot to the point where we cannot consume it," Jungkook kisses his palm, his lips coming away stained a dark red. "The blood on your hands is still practically pulsing, my love."
Jimin watches with his stormy eyes as Jungkook licks down his pointer finger. "Love her blood so much you'd be willing to drink from her when she's dead?"
A smirk peaks on Jungkook's face. He leaves a trail of kisses down the human's wrist. "Jealous?"
"Pissed," he corrects. "I don't want her to get any praise, even in death." He briefly wonders just what Minsoo had done for him to scorn her so much, but he finds he doesn't really care about the reasoning. He likes the hatred he speaks with. Likes the fire in his eyes.
"Then, let me let you in on a little secret, love," Jungkook is on him in a flash, pulling the human in by the hold he has on his thin arm, their noses graze one another. "I do not find pleasure in her blood because it is her, I find pleasure in it because it is blood that has been spilled by your hands."
Jimin hums, numbly once again. Jungkook watches with a calculative gaze as Jimin leans forward slightly, swirling a finger in the pool of blood around them, before he traces up Jungkook's thigh and torso. The effect of the human's willing touch is almost instantaneous, Jungkook's pants tighten considerably and a shiver threatens to run down his spine.
The human continues to trail his body until Jimin plunges two fingers into his own mouth, his lips turning up slightly at the sides at the tangy taste. He parts his lips, and Jungkook's fangs protrude from excitement when he sees Jimin's red-stained tongue peak out from his pearly teeth.
"Then taste it," he challenges. Jungkook wastes no time in surging forward and crashing their lips together.
Yes, this human might just be made for him.