#vampire jay x reader

[puma-riki]

You Make Me So Thirsty

Synopsis 𝐲𝐨𝐮𝐫 𝐛𝐨𝐲𝐟𝐫𝐢𝐞𝐧𝐝 𝐩𝐮𝐬𝐡𝐞𝐬 𝐲𝐨𝐮 𝐚𝐰𝐚𝐲 𝐨𝐮𝐭 𝐨𝐟 𝐟𝐞𝐚𝐫 𝐲𝐨𝐮'𝐥𝐥 𝐭𝐡𝐢𝐧𝐤 𝐚 𝐦𝐨𝐧𝐬𝐭𝐞𝐫 𝐨𝐟 𝐡𝐢𝐦 𝐢𝐟 𝐲𝐨𝐮 𝐞𝐯𝐞𝐫 𝐟𝐢𝐧𝐝 𝐨𝐮𝐭 𝐡𝐨𝐰 𝐭𝐡𝐢𝐫𝐬𝐭𝐲 𝐲𝐨𝐮 𝐦𝐚𝐤𝐞 𝐡𝐢𝐦

Pairing Vampire Bf! Jay x GN! Reader | Genre ꜰʟᴜꜰꜰ | Warnings ʙɪᴛɪɴɢ, ꜱᴋɪɴꜱʜɪᴘ, ᴋɪꜱꜱɪɴɢ, ᴊᴀʏ ʙᴇɪɴɢ ᴘᴀᴛʜᴇᴛɪᴄ | A/N Not sure how to feel about this AND I HAD NO TIME TODAY TO MAKE A RIKI SMAU UPDATE so take this instead

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You were driving Jay absolutely fucking insane.

Not in the way that you were insufferably annoying, but actually the exact opposite. You were everything he wanted, everything he craved, and that was exactly the problem. The sweet, intoxicating scent of your blood clung to the air whenever you were near, and it was enough to make his throat burn like fire. The more time he spent away from you, the harder it became to push the hunger down.

He missed you. He missed you so damn much it hurt.

The texts and calls you sent—checking on him, asking if he was alright—made his chest tighten. He could picture the worried crease between your brows, the way your voice wavered just slightly when you asked him over the phone. You never overdid it, always so careful not to bother him. But it killed him to see your concern, knowing he was the reason for it.

He wanted to answer every message truthfully and whole heartedly, wanted to rush back to you and pull you into his arms, reassure you that he was fine. More than fine—he was craving you like a starved man. But that was the exact reason he stayed away.

He had only sent short responses back to you and turned down your offers to go out together, he would've ignored your calls entirely too but he's simply too weak, so he would answer with short but gentle reassuring words that he hoped would be enough for you while he tried to push away this burning desire for the time being.

Much to his dismay, it did not ease your concern at all.

You were starting to wonder if Jay was having second thoughts about your relationship. The past week, he had been distant—physically and emotionally. The last time you saw each other in person, you craved his closeness, so you tried to interlock your arm with his. Instead, he lightly shrugged you off and opted to hold your hand instead.

On the train ride, you sat next to him, but he leaned away from you. When you kissed his cheek, he jumped and covered his nose and leaned away as if he were trying to distance himself even more. You even attempted to hug him before you parted ways; usually, he would bury his face in your neck and hold you tightly, but that day, he barely wrapped his arms around you. He quickly took your arms off from around his neck, pinched your cheek, and hurriedly said his goodbyes, practically running from your doorstep.

Seriously, did you smell bad or something? Did you say something that upset him? Did you give him the ick? Do guys even get the ick? What the fuck?

You confided in your guys' mutual friends about your worries, and they were absolutely no help. As a final resort, you went directly to your youngest friend Ni-ki, who couldn't keep a secret for the life of him.

"And anytime I tried to get close, he leaned away and even covered his nose. He couldn't even look at me directly!" You scoffed and crossed your arms as you leaned back in the booth you were sitting in, across from Ni-ki, in a dimly lit diner. The milkshake you ordered sits in front of you, untouched.

Ni-ki's body seemed to stiffen and for a split second his eyes flickered away from your sulky state.

the hesitation in his eyes was enough to make your heart sink. You could feel the shift in the air, like he knew something he wasn’t telling you.

‘Maybe you’re overthinking this,’ you told yourself, but his next move only confirmed your suspicions.

‘He’s probably just… you know, going through something,’ Ni-ki said, his voice a little too casual, his fingers fidgeting with the bottom of his milkshake glass ‘I’m sure he’ll come around.’

You narrowed your eyes at him. That wasn’t the usual Ni-ki response. Normally, he’d blurt out whatever he knew without a second thought, but now… he was holding back. You couldn’t ignore the way his shoulders had tensed, or the fact that he wouldn’t meet your gaze anymore.

"Ni-ki…" you pressed, your voice softening. "Do you know what’s going on?"

His eyes darted to the side again, and you could tell he was fighting an internal battle, chewing on the inside of his cheek like he always did when he was nervous. It was obvious he was trying to keep something hidden.

"I…" He trailed off, clearing his throat awkwardly. "I wish I could tell you," he mumbled, before catching himself and quickly adding, "I mean, I don’t know much! Jay just— maybe he's just got something going on, you know?" He took a sip of his milkshake to stop himself from digging a deeper hole for both himself and Jay.

But you could see right through him. Ni-ki wasn’t good at lying— at least not to you.

That same night Ni-ki, who had been sworn to secrecy, ran to jay and told him about the encounter, begging him to just fess up and tell you what was up because he could not take lying to you over something as touchy as this.

You were too sweet. Too tempting. Jay's resolve was already wearing thin, and every day he avoided you, it chipped away just a little more.

He wanted to be honest with you and tell you the truth.

He wanted to, really. God, how he wanted to hear your voice, to be close to you again. You didn’t even know how much he missed you—how desperately he craved your presence, your laugh, your touch. It was driving him insane. But how could he let you get close when the thought of your blood made him feel like a monster?

It wasn’t just about the hunger, though that alone was unbearable. It was the fear that you’d look at him differently—that you’d think he was weird or disgusting for wanting something so wrong, so unnatural.

You knew what he was. You’d known from the start that he wasn’t human, that he fed on blood. But that didn’t make it easier. What if you realized how badly he wanted your blood? What if you saw him as nothing more than a monster—a predator who couldn’t be trusted around you?

He shuddered at the thought. You meant more to him than anyone else in the world, and the idea of you looking at him with fear, or worse, disgust, twisted his insides.

He hated himself for wanting it, for the way his body reacted when you were near, how the scent of your blood pulled him in like nothing else ever had. It made him feel... unnatural. Inhuman. And if you found out just how badly he craved you, would you still want to be with him? Or would you pull away, realizing that he wasn’t someone you could be safe around?

Jay covered his face with his hands, trying to block out the mental image of you backing away from him, looking at him like the monster he feared you’d see. He was terrified of it—terrified of losing you because he couldn’t control what he was. Because the desire to drink your blood felt so primal, so wrong, and so overwhelming. And yet, there was nothing he could do to stop it.

The truth was, he was just as scared of you leaving him as he was of hurting you. His love for you made him weak. Pathetic, even.

He’d told himself that feeding on animals would be enough. It had been, for a while. But now... Now, he wasn’t so sure. The scent of your blood had become so much stronger than anything else, like it was calling to him, pulling him in every time he thought of you. He couldn’t trust himself around you—not like this.

He ran a hand through his hair, frustrated. You were the one thing keeping him tethered to his humanity, but also the greatest risk to it. The thought of losing control around you was too much to bear. He’d never forgive himself if he hurt you, but being apart from you was tearing him apart in a different way.

Just a little longer, he told himself. If I can hold out just a little longer, this will pass. It had to.

His phone buzzed again, your name lighting up his screen. His chest tightened, he squeezed his eyes shut and covered his face again, fighting the urge to answer, to beg you not to hate him for what he was.

He peered through his fingers at his phone that sat in front of him on the coffee table, almost mockingly. He double tapped his screen to turn it on. Your text from 10 minutes ago showed on the screen and Jay nearly broke his neck

Angel: I can't handle it anymore. I'm coming over.

Just then a sharp knock came from his door.

It was like Jay had just woken up because it was only now that he realized it was pouring rain outside, the sun had set hours ago, and he was just sitting in the dark in his living room.

fuck.

as much as his heart fluttered (though he technically didn't have a heartbeat) he prayed that you had meant that text for someone else and it was actually his elderly next door neighbor asking him to help find her cat again.

He swung the door open and it was in fact, not his neighbor.

It was you. Drenched from head to toe and out of breath, eyes watery, clutching the strap of your purse in one hand that had probably dropped from your shoulder as you ran to his place.

As beautiful as you look right now, his mind had to push away the instinct to just grab you and coddle you the rest of the night (and maybe the rest of his life) while he kissed your worries and fears away.

"Jay..." you breathed, you sounded as exhausted as you looked

"[name] you shouldn't be out here its dangerous, what are you doing!?" He was genuine with his warning about the rain but also he could already smell the sweet scent of your blood that was flowing through your whole body. He was lucky the rain dampened the smell.

"I know, I know, but I wanted to see-" You were still breathless as you took a step forward.

Jay took a step back and cut you off, "You can see me later, Its late and you're all wet. I'll drive you home." Jay rushed out. He was eager to get rid of you, though he wanted to do everything but.

"What- Jay seriously-" Before you could finish, Jay turned his back on you to grab his keys hanging by his door. You stared at his back, You were frustrated with him. He had been practically ignoring you over the phone and now he was ignoring you while you stood right in front of him.

You let out a groan," Jay!" and suddenly you jumped on his back. Jay flinched at the sudden extra, soaking-wet weight clinging to him, yet instinctively, his hands grabbed under your thighs to keep you from falling. The rain started to lose its effect on dampening the smell, the warmth of your body against his back was unbearable. His senses were going haywire

"what are you doing!?"

"I did not run all the way here for you to ignore me straight to my face Park Jongseong." Your voice was stern, even as you wrapped your legs around his waist and your arms around his neck.

You were close. Too close. Incredibly close, and you were going to kill him. Jays hands shook as he held onto you, the scent of your blood flooding his mind. He tried to push it away, tried to focus on anything else, but you were making it impossible

“[Name], get down,” he said, his voice barely holding together. “You’ll catch a cold or something worse if you stay in these clothes.” But really, he wasn’t thinking about your clothes, or the rain, or anything practical. He was thinking about how soft your body felt against his, how warm your breath was on his neck, and how painfully bad he wanted to turn around and kiss you.

But he couldn’t.

You didn’t move. “Then stop avoiding me!” The frustration and crack in your voice cut through the storm outside. Jay could hear it, could feel it in the way your arms clenched around him. And it tore him apart. He was the reason you were like this, the reason you were upset, crying, drenched from the rain.

And all because he was trying to keep you safe from the monster he knew he was.

“Jay...” Your voice softened, and that was worse. The raw hurt in your tone was worse than anything. “What did I do wrong? Why won’t you talk to me?” Your head rested on his shoulder and Jay swore he could feel his knees almost give out under him.

Jay’s heart sank. You thought you had done something wrong? His chest tightened, the guilt crashing over him. How could he let you think that?

“Angel, you didn’t—” he started, but you interrupted him, your voice trembling as the emotions you’d been holding in finally spilled over. You hugged him tighter.

“If you want to break up with me, you should just say so.” Your voice cracked again, and Jay nearly collapsed under the weight of your words. “Just—don’t keep pretending like everything’s fine while you push me away. I can’t take it, Jay. I can’t keep doing this.”

You slid down from his back, landing softly on the floor behind him, your arms wrapping around yourself. You felt small, pitiful, and a bit cold. When Jay turned to face you, the sight of you standing there, drenched and crying as the rain poured outside his open front door, made him feel like the worst person in the world. He wanted to protect you from everything—especially himself. But now, seeing you like this, he realized how badly he had hurt you.

You sniffled, wiping at your face, but the tears kept coming. “I’ve been trying to give you space, but you just keep pushing me further away, and I don’t know why. If I’m the problem, just tell me. I can handle it." You paused, sniffling, your hands trembling as you reached up to push your wet hair from your face. "But if you don’t want me anymore, don’t—don’t string me along. Just say it, and I’ll leave.”

Leave? The word hit Jay like a punch to the gut. The idea of you leaving, of losing you, made him feel like he was falling apart. He wanted to scream that you were the last thing he wanted to lose—that you meant everything to him.

Jay felt his throat tighten, guilt crashing over him like a wave. He wanted to wrap his arms around you and hold you close, tell you that it wasn’t you—it was him. That he was terrified of hurting you. That the scent of your blood was enough to make him lose control. But the words felt stuck in his throat.

"[name], that's not-" Jay saw you shiver when a gust of wind blew past you. He reached behind you and closed the door. “I-I’m sorry,” he finally muttered, his voice so quiet it barely reached you. He took a step forward but hesitated, his hands hovering in the air like he wanted to touch you but didn’t trust himself to get that close.

“You think I don’t want you?” Jay’s voice was strained, full of pain. He shook his head, almost in disbelief. “I want you so bad, it’s killing me.”

You blinked, stunned by his confession, your tears still flowing. “Then why are you pushing me away?”

Jay clenched his jaw, his hands balling into fists at his sides. He wanted to tell you everything, to explain why he was keeping his distance. But how could he admit that he was afraid of what he’d do if he got too close? That the very thing he loved about you—your warmth, your life, your blood—was the same thing making him want to run?

“I’m... scared.” The words slipped out before he could stop them.

Your brow furrowed, confusion mixing with the sadness in your eyes. “Scared? Of what?”

Jay let out a shaky breath, his resolve crumbling. He couldn’t keep lying to you. “Of hurting you. Of what I might do if I’m around you too much.” His voice cracked, and he looked away, ashamed. “I’m scared that if I lose control, I won’t be able to stop myself. You don’t know what you do to me, [Name]. You don’t know how hard it is to be near you and not...” He trailed off, his shoulders slumping in defeat.

You stared at him, your heart breaking all over again. “Jay... you’d never hurt me. I know you.”

Jay shook his head, his eyes squeezing shut. “You don’t understand. It’s not just about knowing me—it’s about knowing what I am. I want you, but not just in the way you think. Every time you’re near, every second, I’m fighting the urge to—” He stopped, swallowing hard. “You’d think I’m a freak if you knew how much I want your blood.”

The raw vulnerability in his voice shook you. You’d always known what Jay was, but this... this was something else. You reached out, taking his trembling hand in yours. “Jay, I know what you are. I’ve always known. And I’m not afraid of you.”

Jay’s breath hitched as he looked down at your hand in his, his heart aching with the desire to pull you close. But his guilt weighed him down like chains, keeping him rooted in place. “But what if... What if one day I can’t hold back? What if I hurt you?”

You stepped closer, your eyes locking with his, and your voice softened. “You won’t. You’ve never hurt me, and you won’t start now.”

Tears threatened to fall from Jay’s eyes, but he blinked them back. He wanted to believe you so badly. He wanted to believe that he could trust himself. But the fear was still there, gnawing at the edges of his mind. He wasn’t just some guy who could get a handle on his impulses—he was a vampire, and the scent of your blood was like a drug.

But you were standing there, soaked and shivering, still holding his hand, still looking at him like he was Jay—not a monster from hell. And in that moment, he didn’t feel like one. He just felt like a man who was hopelessly, pathetically in love with you.

"I'll... get you a change of clothes." He sniffled and looked down at his feet. You knew he was trying to avoid this now that you were aware of his feelings.

His hand gently pulled at yours to lead you to his room. You quickly stepped out of your shoes and followed him (not that it was any use, you were already dripping all over his entryway). Your heart was just a bit lighter, but an anchor was dragging you down.

Jay handed you a pair of pajama pants you always left at his place and one of his sweaters to change into. He lay back on his bed, staring up at the ceiling while you changed in his connected bathroom. He could still feel your lingering scent in the air and hear your heartbeat pump blood all throughout your body, a heady reminder of everything he wanted to hold onto.

The door opening and warm lighting shining into the room made him look towards you, rubbing the ends of your hair with a towel and the discarding it into a hamper.

You gave him a soft smile and walked towards his edge of the bed, the cozy sweater hanging loosely on your frame.

"Hi."

"Hi," Jay replied, a shy smile creeping up on his face. But it disappeared as quick as it came. "I should probably get you home now." The rain had lost its effect, and he could feel that familiar carnal desire clawing at his insides.

Your fingers reached to play with the sleeve of his hoodie, “Jay?"

"Hmm?"

Jay glanced over at you, his heart fluttering despite the heaviness that hung in the air. “I know you’re avoiding talking about it,” you said, your voice soft yet firm.

He sighed, unable to meet your gaze. “It’s just… complicated.”

“Complicated how?” Jay moved over a bit for you. You took a seat at the edge of the bed, your expression earnest. “You’ve been distant, Jay. I can’t help but feel like I did something wrong.”

“No, you didn’t! It’s not you, it’s me,” he blurted out, pushing himself up on his elbows to finally face you. “I just—being around you right now is… hard.”

You raised an eyebrow, the concern etched on your face deepening. “Hard how? You can tell me.”

Jay ran a hand through his hair, frustration, and longing mixing inside him. “It’s your blood,” he admitted, his voice barely above a whisper. “It’s sweet and intoxicating, I can smell it so strongly when I'm near you, it makes my teeth ache, and my head spin." Jay's eyes flickered to yours and then towards your legs that were pulled up on the bed. He suddenly took interest in rubbing his knuckle against your thigh under your gaze. "I can’t control myself around you... I’ve been trying to keep my distance for your safety.”

You studied him, your heart aching at the vulnerability in his eyes. “You think I don’t know what you are? I love you, Jay. I know the risks, and I’m okay with it.”

He shook his head, the guilt weighing him down. “But I don’t want you to think I’m some kind of monster, wanting to drink your blood. It’s… it’s a primal desire.”

You scooted closer, tucking your legs under you and taking his hand in yours. “You’re not a monster. You’re the same Jay I fell in love with. I can see how much you care about me. You’ve been avoiding me out of love.”

His eyes softened, but he remained hesitant. “But what if I lose control? What if I hurt you?”

You leaned in closer, your gaze unwavering. “You won’t. I trust you, Jay. I trust you to control yourself, just like you’ve trusted me to understand you. I want to be with you, all of you—even the parts that scare you.”

He searched your eyes, looking for any hint of hesitation. “Are you sure?”

“Absolutely,” you replied, your voice steady and reassuring. “I don’t want you to feel like you have to push me away. I’m right here, and I want you to be honest with me.” Your other hand reached to hold his cheek.

Jay’s heart raced, a mixture of relief and fear swirling within him. “You really mean it?”

"Of course I do," You gaze flickered towards his lips, and you leaned in slowly, "Don't be silly."

Jay rolled his eyes playfully as he pulled you into his lap with a smile. Your arms wrapped around his neck as his rested on your waist. He felt giddy having you back in his arms after so long (Literally a week but okay) His eyes flitted to your lips, a thought crossed his mind, and his smile faded.

"What if... I accidentally bite your lip with my fangs? And then-" His head leaned back to rest against the headboard.

His eyes went back towards your face, and you didn't look very impressed or amused.

"Sorry."

"It's okay... it's cute." And you finally kissed him, your eyes fluttered closed along with his.

Jay couldn’t stop himself from smiling as your lips moved against each other, every brush igniting a fire within him. He felt as if he had been starving, and you were the only thing that could satisfy him. His arms fully circled your waist, pulling you closer, as if to tether you to him forever. He tilted his head to deepen the kiss, getting lost in the sweet taste of you.

But the longer he kissed you, the more his instincts surged, a primal need awakening in him. The intoxicating scent of your blood was like a siren song, drawing him further into his desires. He felt himself growing bolder, the kiss turning heated as he instinctively flipped you, hovering over you, his weight pressing you into the soft mattress beneath.

You pushed him back slightly, Jay chasing your lips and your breath mingling with his. “Jay… are you okay?”

He looked into your eyes, panting softly. “I just—” he hesitated, the struggle within him palpable. “It’s been too long. I missed you so much. But I want more than just this. I need—”

Your voice was gentle, yet firm as you placed a hand on his cheek. “You can have it, Jay. If you need to feed… I want you to. Just be honest with me.”

The offer hung between you like an electric charge. Jay's gaze darkened, desire battling with the urge to protect you. He pressed his forehead against yours, searching your eyes again. “Are you sure? I don’t want you to be in pain. Not like that.”

You nodded, your voice steady. “I trust you. Just... please, don’t push me away again.”

With that, he captured your lips once more, the kiss deepening with newfound urgency. He could feel his fangs brushing against your soft skin, a reminder of what lay beneath. You tasted so sweet, and the heat of your body was a drug he couldn’t resist. Each kiss was a battle against his instincts, and with every passing moment, he felt himself slipping further into the depths of his longing.

His lips strayed from yours and trailed from the corner of your lips to your chin, jaw, and down to your neck. Being this close to the source that had been driving him insane for weeks felt hypnotic. He could hear your heart hammering in your chest. Each pulse seemed to beckon him closer, igniting a primal instinct within him that he had fought so hard to suppress. Your hands trailed from the back of his neck and up to his hair, your nails soothingly scratching his scalp, sending chills down his spine.

Every kiss along your neck was a tantalizing reminder of the sweet temptation he craved, and with each gentle press of his lips, he felt his resolve beginning to waver. His mind raced with thoughts of how desperately he wanted to cherish this moment, to savor the warmth of your skin against his, but the intoxicating scent of your blood was pushing him to the edge.

Jay pressed several kisses along your neck, listening to your heart rate slow and your breaths even out, before he nipped at the skin. He could feel the heat radiating from you, enveloping him in a cocoon of desire. The familiar voice in his head whispered warnings of what he could do, yet all he wanted was to lose himself in you completely.

Your breath caught in your throat as you felt the cool touch of his fangs against your skin, a shiver of anticipation coursing through you.

As his fangs pierced your skin, a rush of warmth enveloped you, almost electric. It was painful for a second, and then it wasn’t; rather, it felt like a gentle caress, a merging of your essences that drew you both closer together. Jay’s grip on you tightened as he drew from you, a low groan escaping his lips that sent a jolt of excitement down your spine. The sensation was both exhilarating and soothing, a bond deepening between you in a way that felt almost sacred.

With each sip, you could feel his thirst for you mingling with a tenderness that wrapped around your heart like a warm blanket. He wasn’t just feeding; he was connecting, pouring his longing and affection into every gentle pull. You could sense the desperation in him, the way he fought against his instincts while still allowing himself to savor the sweetness of this moment.

“Jay,” you whispered, your voice soft and comforting. “It’s okay… I’m right here.” The words were a balm to him, a reminder that he wasn’t just a monster, but someone deeply in love.

Jay relaxed at your words and continued for a few beats before pulling away, the whole thing made you feel dizzy. He pressed light kisses to the fresh bite mark on your neck and trailed back up to your face. He trailed kissed all over your face and mumbled out, "I love you." as he did, making you giggle.

"You know, you could've done this weeks ago if you just asked."

"I think your line was supposed to be 'I love you too.'"

[cutehoons02]

WHAT HAPPENS WHEN YOU LOVE SOMEONE?

(SCENE) ᡣ𐭩 What kind of vampire version boyfriend can be the Hyung Line and where you firts met them...

(TAGS) minor do not interact, +18, vampires mood, a lot of tension, manipulation, fluffy moments, unprotected sex (don’t horny ppl) vampire bites, blood, a lot of kisses, masturbation (f.m) fingering, cowgirl, normal sex, doggy sex, clingy, fake innocent protagonist, good girl, bratty girl.

ᡣ𐭩 REBLOG AND COMMENTS!

*english is not my native language!

JAKE (CLINGY BOYFRIEND VAMPIRE)

The alley reeked of stagnant rain and blood. You ran. Your heart hammered. The heels bounced on the wet asphalt. You shouldn’t have been there alone at that hour. But you ended up there. And now, someone—something—was chasing you. He was fast. Too fast to be human. 'Don’t scream, little one…' the rough voice hissed from behind you, as a cold arm grabbed you around the waist, and his warm breath grazed your neck. Then: a strike. A crash. A growl. A figure hurled him away. You screamed, collapsing to the ground, as the “bad” vampire was grabbed by the throat and torn apart in a hiss of dust. Your confused gaze landed on a face you had never seen before. Golden, deep eyes. A tight jaw. Still and fierce beauty. Jake. “You’re safe now…” he murmured, kneeling beside you, his hands trembling. “Please, don’t faint, okay? Look at me. You’re okay now, I swear I won’t hurt you.” But your vision was already fading. Your heart slowed. His hands were cold… so cold. Yet, they weren’t frightening. They were sad. Sweet. Desperate. The last thing you heard was his broken voice: “Stay with me… please…”

The next morning. Opening your eyes was a challenge. Everything throbbed: your temples, your throat, your back. A groan escaped you, and you immediately heard it: a quick movement in the room. Someone was there. Someone you… knew? “Shh… Don’t move too much. You’re hurt… I found you…” The voice was low, calm. Warm. But you recognized it. It was the voice before the darkness. You sat up abruptly, clutching the blankets to your chest. “Stay away from me!” Jake raised his hands, as if to surrender. “Wait, no—I don’t want to hurt you. I saved you, remember?” His eyes… they were sincere. Pained. His lips moist with unspoken words. His hair was messy, as if he hadn’t slept. He looked… like a beaten dog. “You’re… a vampire,” you murmured. “Yes,” he nodded. “But I’m not like him. I don’t—I don’t hurt people. Not you.” Your voice trembled. “Then why are you here? Why did you bring me… where are we?” “My house,” he replied, looking down. “I couldn’t leave you there. And I didn’t trust the others. Not even your own.” Then he looked into your eyes with tenderness: “You’re… important. I don’t know why. But you are.”

Days passed. You heal slowly. The wounds are deep, but strangely, they begin to close faster. Every night, even if you don’t see him, Jake enters the room. He watches you, motionless, kneeling by your bed. Then, slowly… he licks your wounds. With precision. With respect. But with a hunger he cannot hide. Until one night… “…Jake…” His name slipped from your lips in a whisper as you slept. And he stared. He stood up to leave, but your hand closed around his cold wrist. “Stay.” He looked at you. Confused. Stunned. “I’m grateful… for what you did. And…” you hesitated, “…I want to understand. I want to understand you.” He lowered his gaze, a nervous, tender smile, like a boy caught in the act. “I should leave. I really should,” he said. “But you don’t want to,” you replied. “No,” he admitted. “I want to stay. I want to… watch you breathe. Is that stupid?” You smiled. “A little.” “I can do even dumber things,” he whispered with a smirk. “Like asking if I can sleep here. On the carpet. Or on the ceiling, if you prefer. I can stay in mist form too.” You laughed. His joke was childish, but it was sincere. Strangely… sweet. Jake looked at you with bright eyes. “I swear I won’t do anything you don’t want. But… if you want me to stay, say the word. Just one.” And you said it. “Stay.”

It had been weeks since Jake had saved you. But since that day… You had never been alone again. You found him everywhere. Lying in your bed in the morning, with a sleepy smile and messy hair. Behind you while you cooked, his arms wrapped around your waist and his cold lips kissing your shoulder. One time, you almost dropped a knife from shock. His only response was: “I had to make sure you didn’t hurt yourself with those sharp things… let me cut the vegetables.” And of course, he did it with his claws. But the worst—or the best—came at the most private moments. Like that afternoon, in the mall dressing room, when you tried on a red bralette and black panties with red details. You had looked at yourself in the mirror, satisfied. Then, his voice behind you: “Take it off.” You spun around quickly. “JAKE! I told you not to pop up out of nowhere when I’m trying on lingerie!” He licked his lips, his eyes fixed on your chest. “I’m not doing it on purpose…” he murmured. “It’s like… a radar. My body just brings me to you when you wear things like that.” “Psychopath,” you muttered, laughing. “Possessive,” he corrected, stepping closer, “and you love it.” Then he said it, with those golden eyes and that low voice that made your bones vibrate: “Tonight… I want to see you wearing only that.” You raised an eyebrow. “Only that?” Jake bit his lip. “Only that. And maybe… a bow.” “You want a bow?” you teased. “Yes. Red. Like blood.” You looked at him mischievously. “Did you get yourself a gift, vampire?” “Yes. My favorite. You!”

That evening – Your room at the campus

Books everywhere, scattered notes, open highlighters. You were studying for the comparative species history exam, trying to figure out when vampires had been officially recognized in human law.

Then: knock knock. On the window. You smiled even before getting up. When you opened it, the wind carried with it the scent of the night… and him. Jake. Messy blonde hair from the flight, full lips pulled into a dangerous smile, intense eyes, and sharp canines clearly visible.

“Hey, princess of the dark,” he said, landing on the windowsill with feline grace. “Don’t you ever use the door?” “Too mainstream,” he replied. Then he looked at you with burning eyes. “But for you… I might consider it.” He entered without waiting for an invitation. As always. And he wrapped his arms around your waist, burying his face in your neck. His breath was like ice on your warm skin.

“You know how beautiful you are, right?” he murmured, his voice rough. “Your blood smells like desire. Like honey and thorns.” “Jake…” you sighed, your legs going weak. He pulled back for a moment. “You’re my drug. You know that?” You looked at him with an ironic smile. “You’re obsessed with me.”

Jake flashed a cheeky grin. “Of course I am. You’re everything I want. To drink. To touch. To fuck.” Your breath trembled. He slowly slid his hands under your shirt. They were cold, as always, and the contrast with your warm skin made you moan softly.

“Jake… they’re cold…” “I love how you react to me. So alive. So mine.” Then he looked you straight in the eyes. “Are you wearing that set?”

You nodded, biting your lip. “Want to see it?” “Show me.”

“Good little puppy,” you whispered, lifting your shirt just enough to let him catch a glimpse of the red lace on your belly. Jake closed his eyes, gripping the edge of the table to avoid losing control.

“Christ. You’re a curse.” “You asked me to wear it,” you teased him. “I didn’t think I’d survive.”

“Shame, then…” You brushed your thumb over his lip. “Because tonight, I’m not letting you leave here alive.” Jake swore. Loudly.

“Damn… okay. Now you’re officially cruel.”

He lifted you in his arms with frightening speed, and you gasped as he carried you toward the bed. “Where do you think you’re going?”

“To get my gift. Just the bow is missing…”

Jake stood over you slowly, as if touching something sacred. His gaze burned. There was no longer only desire in there; there was worship, hunger, and something deeply romantic, as if it were the only beautiful thing left in his immortal world. "You're the most perfect thing I've ever seen," he whispered, his voice hoarse.

He leaned over and began to storm our necks with hungry little kisses, alternating them with yeast bites and hickeys. His canines grazed the skin without ever really sinking, but they were plenty to trigger shivers down his spine. "Jake, I told you not to bite," you half-loudly admonished him, pulling his blonde hair hard, sinking his fingers into his thick, shiny hair. He moaned against your skin, laughing in that deep way that made your soul vibrate. "I love you when you're like that. When you command me, you drive me crazy.” Then you hear him moan. "I can't take it anymore if you're my damn thing. My drug. Every part of you calls me. I need you. To feel your skin. To lose myself inside of you.”

You giggled, stunned by the intensity of his voice. You pushed him gently, and he let me tip him over, lying on the bed under you, eyes wide open and red with hunger, but not blood. He straddled you on him, and you looked at him with a mischievous smile. "Strange for a dead man if you are flushed,”

Jake bit his lip, trying to keep control. "Shit stop " You pulled up his shirt with a slow, seductive gesture. “I want to see everything that is mine.” And he, without thinking twice, raised his arms, giving you free access to his sculpted body. You began to kiss him, first the chest, then slowly along the line of the abs, tracing them with your tongue, savoring each muscle as if it were created for you. Jake was shaking, unable to stand still. When you rubbed on his boner, through his pants, he moaned loudly, his hands clutching the sheets. "Christ, princess, you're sending me out of my head and you're damn good…” "Is it too much for an immortal vampire?" you teased him, brushing his jaw with your nails. Then you whispered in his ear, "Raise your hips,” Jake stammered, taken by surprise. "Wait, wait, if you're serious? Now?!”

"Does this sound like a joke to you?" you muttered, slowly lowering your pants. When his boxer appeared, tense against his throbbing erection, you threw an innocent fake look at him. "Is all this for me?” Jake nodded, eyes full of desire. "Always. Just for you.” Slowly, you took them off, and his body immediately reacted to the touch. "You are so sensitive Jake. Everything. But tonight you are mine.”

His erection pressed against the tissue of the boxer, already wet from the tip. You looked at him. “For me?” "Always for you. Just for you.” When you released him completely, his cock jumped against his abs, swollen, pulsating, beautiful. You licked your lips while he held his breath, in the grip of an animalistic tension. You began to kiss the tip, savoring every drop of liquid that had already leaked. He bowed, with a muffled groan. "Christ …[name], if you continue like this…” “So how?” you whispered, slowly licking it along the entire length. “Damn… tempting creature…” With the tongue you played, teased, and caressed. Then you took it in your mouth, deep down, and hon moaned loudly, his voice choked. His canines protruded now, red eyes completely lost in pleasure.

"Oh, fuck you … fuck you … you are… too…” His hands clasped your hair, but trembled. He was your prisoner, the vampire who could kill with a glance … but who now stuttered under your touch. “So loud to be a vampire… " you teased him again, pinching his thigh. Jake screamed, a choked blasphemy came out of his lips as he unwittingly pushed inside your mouth. When you started moving faster, he had tears in his eyes, teeth sticking into his lips, and veins in his neck stretched like strings.

"I'm … coming, love … fuck … I'm -” Then you heard it. He burst like a fountain, warm and abundant, and you did not stop, drinking everything, hands still caressing him to prolong the pleasure, even when he trembled under you. White threads dripped from your lips and along your hand. You ran your tongue over your fingers and looked at him with a smile. “Possessive. Vulnerable. Delicious.” He looked at you lying, exhausted, his chest rising, his cheeks incredibly reddened. “You are a public danger.” “And you're the most adorable vampire I've ever seen.” "Don't say it out loud… You will ruin my immortal reputation.” But then he laughed. A raspy laugh, tired, completely in love. And you knew you had him.

His chest lifted with an almost animalistic tension. His hands caressed your hips with caution, as if afraid that you might vanish. You were there. Hot. Deadly. And yet you were the one with the power at the time. You giggled, mischievous. “You like me so much, huh?” Jake rose slightly on her elbows and brought his lips to your breasts, leaving playful little bites- his canines barely exposed, as if reminding you who he really was. "Jake” You stopped him with a firm whisper, taking him by the hair. “I don't want you to bite me.” He sulked, adorable, his red eyes veiled with desire and frustration. “Not even a little? Just to feel your heart racing harder?” "No. I want to hear from you … but not like that.”

The vampire below you sighed, giving up, but slowly slid along your body. It's member-already hard, already throbbing-rubbed against your moist folds, ripping out a moan that left you trembling. “Then let me at least get inside you.” His voice was hoarse, broken, and pleading. “I want to hear you all, I want to know that you are there… that you are mine.”

Nod. And with a slow, conscious gesture, you guided him inside you. He entered with a subdued expletive, his head thrown back, while you groaned along with him. It was too much. Too good. Too real. Too intense. "Fucking goddess…" he muttered, clinging to your thighs. "You are perfect… you are made for me…" You began to move, first slowly, then with increasing confidence. Your hips moved smoothly, sinking on him with power, alternating moments when he was pushing inside you, and others when you bounced against him, hands resting on his shoulders, strong to stay balanced.

He moaned, praised you, degraded you with words that made your soul vibrate. "Look how you take me… how I slide inside you…Every part of your body cries out my name. Is that what you want? Being fucked and loved like I'm the only one controlling me?” When he took you by the waist and rose from lying down to sit down, remaining within you, you screamed, surprised by the deep pleasure of that new corner. “Be… I'm coming,Jake "Yes, love … come for me.” he whispered with a grin, as his thumb crept between the two of you and began to stimulate you with perfect, targeted movements. "Hold me … drive me crazy” With one last deep push, you felt the orgasm explode inside you — a hot, shattering wave that made you shake against her chest. Your name moaned, as your body convulsively clasped around his. “It's too much… " you gasped, exhausted and trembling.

"No, baby … I have to come again … and I will do it inside you.” The way he said it, the possessive tone, the burning desire… left you breathless. It wasn't a threat. It was a promise. Prayer. Sentence. He held you tight and sank even deeper, with fierce thrusts but full of need. His kisses were frantic, his eyes filled with something beyond desire: adoration. And when it came, it was with a broken groan, the body stiffening against yours, the breath severed, as it sank into you, filling you, trembling, vulnerable, alive. You remained so, united, while your bodies were still contracting slowly. He squeezed you, lips in your neck, but without biting. “Now you are mine.” “So are you, sticky vampire.” He smiled, his smile tired and sincere. “And I'm happy about it. I don't want anything but you.”

HEESEUNG (PERFECT BOYFRIEND VAMPIRE)

Two years

It had been two whole years since you'd first met Heeseung. He was carrying cookies that his "aunt" had supposedly left him. He was kind, always smiling, with that calm, soothing voice that felt like a lullaby every time you passed him on the landing. He was… perfect. Too perfect. Never a word out of place. Always considerate with the elderly, always have a warm smile for the children in the building. But there was something. A shadow lingering behind those eyes—always just a bit too glossy. The fact that you’d never seen him out during the day. That his apartment always seemed shrouded in darkness. And then, his friends. Three other guys. So breathtakingly beautiful, it was almost painful to look at them. But their presence made the air go cold. No one knew anything about them. Yet, every time you crossed paths, your heart would pound so hard it felt like you had to run and hide. That evening, you were just on the couch. Soft music is playing, a scented candle is lit, and your favorite book is in hand. A finally normal night.

Ding dong.

The doorbell made you jump. You weren’t expecting anyone, you approached cautiously, and peeked through the peephole.

Brown hair with reddish highlights, it was Heeseung. But… he looked like he was swaying. You opened the door abruptly. Your breath caught in your throat.

His face was streaked with blood. His lip was split, red stains all over his white shirt—or what was left of it. He was breathing heavily. And smiling.

“Do you have any sugar? I suddenly got this crazy craving for… something sweet.”

His voice was hoarse. Almost a growl. You felt the blood freeze in your veins. Instinctively, you pulled the door halfway closed, leaving just a sliver between you and him.

“I... I would never hurt you,” he murmured, sounding almost disappointed.

“That’s exactly what serial killers say!” you snapped, eyes wide.

He chuckled softly. A tired, almost mischievous smirk.

“Touché. But I promise… I’m too weak to even touch you. At least, not the way I’d like to.”

Your heart skipped a beat.

“…You’re a pervert.”

“Only when I’m mortally wounded and knocking on the doors of good girls,” he muttered, swaying.

You sighed. Looked into his eyes. There was something strangely vulnerable there. Something pleading.

And something dangerously magnetic.

You grabbed his arm—cold, marble-like—and pulled him inside.

His body was heavy but controlled. Like a wounded predator still ready to pounce.

“Couch. Now. And try not to bleed on everything.”

When he sat down, he let out a low groan. Then cursed through gritted teeth.

“Shit… even near the belly button. Terrible place for a fang.”

You spun around.

“If you wanted an excuse to show me your abs, you could’ve just asked. No need to nearly get yourself killed by… by what, exactly?”

He laughed, quietly.

“Noted. Next time, I’ll be more straightforward. Like: hey, I wanna show up half-naked at your door, open up.”

You slapped the back of his hand on instinct.

He looked at you, surprised. Then smiled again—this time genuinely amused.

“Hey… if touching me is your reaction to every innuendo, I might start making them more often.”

You knelt beside him. Blood was trickling from his abdomen, and when you lifted the torn shirt, you had to hold your breath.

Perfect, even wounded.

Beneath the pale skin, the cut was deep. But his body seemed to be… healing. Slowly. As if something ancient pulsed inside him.

“What the hell are you, Heeseung?”

He looked at you. For the first time, serious. No smile. Just truth.

“Something that doesn’t deserve to be near you. But I can’t stay away.”

Your heart thudded.

But you didn’t look away.

Maybe because you were drawn to danger.

Or maybe… because beneath all that blood and mystery, there was a man who looked at you like you were the only light he’d ever known.

Morning light filtered through the curtains, slicing the air in golden beams.

He was still there. On your couch. Or at least... it looked like he was.

“Ugh...” Heeseung groaned, his voice deep and hoarse, barely awake. He moved slowly, pushing himself up on his elbows. His shirt was still open over his chest, and the gash near his navel now looked like nothing more than a faint scar.

“How are you feeling?” you asked, approaching carefully, a small bowl of clean gauze in your hands.

“Like an ancient scroll...” he whispered. “My skin’s centuries old by now. It’s learned to heal on its own. But... the older I get, the longer it takes.”

You stared at him, brow furrowed.

“So you are...”

“A vampire?” he let out a low, sensual chuckle. “You didn’t figure that out on your own? With my nocturnal habits, corpse-like complexion, and this overwhelming need to... stay close to you?”

You stepped closer, your fingers resting against his cool skin.

“Let’s just say I had my theories.” You looked at him, a mix of challenge and curiosity in your gaze.

“But now I want to see how true they are.”

Your fingers slid along his abdomen, warm, alive.

He let out a low groan, eyes fluttering shut.

“Damn… your hands. They're... so warm.”

“That’s because I have blood running through me. You, on the other hand—”

You didn’t finish the sentence.

He pouted, irresistibly, lifting his gaze just a little.

“You shouldn’t talk about your blood like that. Not around me. It makes me want to suck it from you slowly. Drink it while you moan my name.”

You froze. Eyes wide, breath caught in your throat.

“You’re joking, right?”

“No.” He shook his head. Then, much softer:

“But I’d never do it without your permission. I promise.”

Then added, with a wicked grin:

“I only say it because… your blood… your personality… and your body… are all I want.”

You felt your cheeks flush with heat.

“So that was… some kind of confession?” you asked, trying to play it off.

He laughed. A deep, satisfied sound.

“Call it what you want. But if you let me enjoy your hands on me a little longer… I might call it our first date.”

You resumed treating him, even though your hands were trembling slightly.

The wound on his abdomen was nearly gone. But as you reached lower—just above the waistband of his boxers—you felt him shiver beneath your touch.

“Mmh… you’re really good at this. But if you keep touching me there, I might start saying or doing... indecent things.”

“Like what?” you asked, innocently.

He opened his eyes. His dark irises seemed to burn.

“Like telling you I want you sitting on my lap, your warm hands tied behind your back. Or letting you bite my neck while I slowly slide into you. Or asking you to scream my name until the neighbors call the cops.”

You froze. Your heart was hammering in your chest. You didn’t know whether to run… or stay and hear more.

“…you’re insane.”

“No, babe. Just very honest. And very, very hungry.”

The silence between you thickened.

“You know what the funniest part is?” he added, standing up as if he’d never been hurt.

You stepped back.

“What… do you mean?”

He smiled. One of those smiles that ignites a fire in your core.

“The wound? The weakness? All fake. A little act. A plan I orchestrated with my oh-so-‘scary’ friends. I had to see if you'd open the door. If you'd come closer. If… you’d touch me.”

Your eyes widened.

“What?!”

“I needed to mark my territory.” He stepped closer.

“And now… I know I want it.”

He leaned in, eyes locked with yours. A breath away from your lips.

“You’re mine. You just don’t know it yet.”

Months had passed since that night. Months in which you had tried to keep your distance. Months in which he had done everything to make you fall. Heeseung had apologized in every possible way. With sweet words and guilty glances. With dinners he had cooked, nocturnal bouquets of flowers, gifts left on your doorstep. He had even taken you on a picnic in broad daylight, with your skin slightly sizzling in the light, just to show you that he would endure the sun for you. And sometimes, when you looked at him… he seemed truly perfect. Kind to the neighbors. Be considerate with the children. He held your coat when you were cold. He washed your hair in the shower. He read your favorite books to you while you fell asleep on his bare chest. Every gesture was gentle, measured… human. But beneath that calmness, there was an animal. You could feel it. You saw it in his eyes every time he passed you too slowly. When he brushed your wrist with his thumb. When he inhaled your scent and closed his eyes, as if it was the only thing keeping him alive. Heeseung had desired you for over a hundred years. And now that he had you, now that he could touch you, kiss you, look at you… …he couldn’t stop. That night, you were sleeping deeply. The pajama was light, with the soft fabric rolled around your thighs. The open window let in a light breeze that brushed your skin. You were dreaming of something warm. Something intense. Something… wet. Until… A whisper caressed your ear. A cold breath, but intimate.

“My good girl… sleeps so sweetly.”

A hand caressed your side, slowly. Cold lips brushed your neck.

“Please… let me taste you. Just a little. I promise I’ll behave.”

You moaned softly, still caught between sleep and wakefulness. You instinctively turned, finding him there.

Lying next to you. His eyes red with desire. His bare chest. His breath controlled… with effort.

“Hee…” you whispered, still confused.

“Sleep, darling. Just let me… kiss you.”

“Kisses… yes. Bites… no.”

You said it with a thick voice. But he… chuckled.

“We’ll see if you still say that in a few minutes.”

His lips began to move down. From your neck to your chest. His hands slowly lifted your pajama top, revealing your bare breasts beneath. The contrast between his cold mouth and your warm skin made you shiver.

[Heeseung's thoughts:]

“Warm. Always so hot. It smells of life, fresh blood… repressed desire. God, how did I live a hundred years without feeling this taste on my tongue?”

He kissed you between his breasts, then went down again. Along the belly, up to the elastic of the shorts that slowly pulled off with the fingers. His hands stroked your open thighs, as your breath became heavier.

"You're all mine, you know?" You groaned, nodding without even realizing it. Then he lifted his head, his face between your legs. "Where do you want me to bite you, mmh? Tell me, good girl. You want to feel it here… — - kissed your inner thigh, slowly — "…or here?— - and went up to the neck, where he just laid the canines, touching the skin — "…or maybe here?— - a light caress to the bare breast, followed by a slow, moist kiss — "…or maybe on your wrist, so I can feel the pulse explode under the tongue."

You shook your head, panting. "I don't know … Heeseung, I…"

"You have to choose. Because when I bite you, it won't just be hungry. Will… link. And I never bite without wanting to hold something forever."

His look was serious now. Excited. But deep. You hesitated. The body was burning, the blood was pulsating strongly. He smiled, tilting his face.

"Or do you want me to decide? Because I assure you, I could do it here." He stroked you between your legs, right above your most sensitive part. "And your blood … would be sweeter if taken while shouting my name."

You woke up with burning skin. Not of fever … but of desire. And it was all his fault. Heeseung was there, next to you, crouching on the bed, with unkempt hair, eyes gloomy with hunger, and hands already on your body.

Your pyjamas were pushed up, pulled away slowly with almost devoted care, while his cold lips caressed your neck, whispering words that sent you into confusion. "My girlfriend sleeps so well … But do you know that you move even when you dream? What do you say, my name in a law voice? You torture me without wanting to."

His hand went down between your legs. A groan eluded you as you tried to tighten your thighs, but it was already too late. "Shh, just let me feel how hot you are…" His fingers grazed your clit with maddening slowness. "All this innocence, and you are already so wet for me. Look at that good girl…"

He whispered to you with a smile on his lips as you felt the heat explode. "No … not there…" you gasped as he teased you, and nodded with feigned patience. But his fingers slipped lower. Slowly. Inexorably. "So … just tell me where you want me to bite you." You shook your head, still too confused, too excited. "Hee, please … I don't want to… don't hurt myself. Don't let me die."

He looked at you with deep, dark eyes, lowering himself to rest his forehead against yours. "You will never die because of me. And I won't transform you until you're ready. But I can't resist anymore. I want you too much." One of his fingers sank into you. He slipped too easily. Your body welcomed him without hesitation, as your breath broke.

"Look how you slide … You're a damn temptation, you know?" He penetrated you with a second finger, and you moaned louder. "Your thighs … are they good for you?" he asked in a playful but hungry tone. Nod, between breaths. "But please be kind…"

He smiled, and that smile was dangerous. "I won't hurt you, good girl. But don't pretend you don't like it. Your body is already begging me." Then you heard it. His canines grazed the inside of your left thigh. A moment later, the skin broke. Bite. Deep. Intense. And a throaty sound came out of his throat as he began to suck your blood.

[Heeseung's Thoughts:] "God, his blood … is fire. Life. Desire. It runs down my throat and drives me crazy. How did I wait so long? It's mine. Only mine. No one else can taste it. No.”

Feel his breathing become more labored, hos lips kiss you, suck you, nibble you. And while he drank from you, his fingers did not stop moving inside your pussy, faster, more decisive.

"A-ah … Hee…" you moaned, unable to stop. "Please … don't stop … I feel … I feel that I'm…" "Come for me, love. So I can savor it all." He kissed your newly made wound, licked it with her tongue to seal it while teasing your clit with her thumb. And when you reached orgasm, you shouted his name.

The tears came down, not just from the pleasure… but from the confusion, the need, the fact that you could no longer understand where the desire ended and where the love began. Heeseung looked at you as you shook. His fingers were wet with your moods. Your thighs are still dripping blood and pleasure. He licked his lips. Satisfied. Lose.

"You know what?" he whispered to you, kissing your forehead. "This was only the first time. I've waited a hundred years… But now that I've had you, I'll never stop."

Your breath is broken, your body still tense from the orgasm that tore you with his fingers. But Heeseung is not done with you yet. He can't get enough. His gaze burns with hunger, his lips dirty with your blood as he watches you with predatory eyes, his pupils dilated, his chest rising irregularly.

Without saying anything, he shows you the last veils — his underwear slips off. It is long, venous, already covered with a pearly veil of desire. You can not restrain yourself: you look at it, praise it, touch it with trembling and curious fingers.

"Beautiful…" you whisper, almost in a trance, as your hands explore its length. He grabs you by the hips, fingers pressed hard to your bare skin, and looks at you with a fierce gaze, but full of twisted adoration.

"Are you sure you're a good girl?" he whispers in a scratched, red-hot voice. "Because I'm going to fuck you like I'm the opposite." Your heart skips a beat. Open your legs slowly, hesitantly, and ask him not to be too violent. Your voice is small, vulnerable. "I have not… a lot of experience…"

He smiles, and the smile is as sharp as his canines. "I can be slow … or I can make you scream until the sun rises." Approaching your ear, the voice is a sweet poison. "You choose." It doesn't even give you time to respond. It penetrates you with a single lunge, deep, raw. A moan runs from his lips as you arch his back, surprised, his legs instinctively closing around his hips.

"Christ…" growl quietly. "Look how you take me… you're perfect." You gasp, you tremble. "Move slowly… Please…" Heeseung bends over you, starting to move with slow, deep, hypnotic thrusts. He fucks you like you've been his for ages.

Every blow makes the bed shake, but there is sweetness hidden behind the brutality. He kisses you between strokes, caresses your throat marked by his bites, and squeezes your face in his hands while staring at you. "Do you feel how wet it is for me?" murmur. "You are so tight… like no one has ever really touched you. It's the first time you've felt so full, isn't it?"

"It's too much…" groans, the voice broken. He stops your face, forcing you to look at him. Black eyes pierce your soul. "Don't say bullshit. Your body knows exactly who it is. And now I take every part of you."

It sinks stronger, deeper. It makes you feel like you want to scream, cry, come all over him at the same instant. He caresses your inner thigh as he moves inside you, leaving bites on the already marked skin. "I've waited more than a century for this. For having you like that, trembling under me. Do you understand that?" He stares at you, as if looking at something sacred. "Do you understand what you are to me?"

You scream with pleasure, your voice broken, desperate. "Heeseung… I want to come… please…" His smile writhes into something dark, smug. "And to think that before you didn't even want me to touch you. And now you beg me to make you come… you little hypocrite."

His hands move between your legs, his thumb starting to stimulate you as he continues to push inside you. "Come for me. I want to hear you squeeze me as you scream my name." And when you do-shaking, shaking, out of control — he holds you tight, as if he could tear you apart and put you back together only with his body. A monster, a god, a lover who never learned to let go.

Your body shudders, upset with pleasure. You can't even hold back: a scream explodes in your throat as you come around his cock, tight, shaken, completely submissive to that burning sensation inside you. "Hee… I'm too sensitive… " you gasp, your face turned upside down, tears mingling with sweat on your hot skin. But he laughs, low, dirty. That kind of laugh that makes your legs tremble.

"Sensitive?" he takes you by the chin, forces you to look at him. "And I just want to sink even deeper into you. Can I, my love? Can I destroy you properly?" He's not waiting for an answer. He manipulates you with cruel slowness, his fingers caressing the spot where he is still inside you, brushing your clitoris with a barely hinted touch, just to make you jerk.

Then he moves, slowly — at first — almost tender-and then begins to push with deep, uneven, hungry strokes. "Look how you take me…" he whispers, his voice scratched. "Like you were born just for this."

Then feel his mouth on your neck. His canines touch the skin in a sacred moment, full of tension. They sink-but barely, like a broken promise-and he sucks only three drops, small, precious, as if he were tasting a rare wine for hundreds of years. Your groan breaks into a sob. Cry from pleasure.

The darkness, the mild pain, the pleasure that overwhelms you again as he comes inside you with a throaty cry, sinking every drop of his seed into your trembling body. "Very good…" it whispers against your skin, as you squeeze it hard, as if you could hold it inside forever. "Look how beautiful you are when you take everything like this."

"Enough… you are unbearable…" you admonish him, his voice broken, but your expression betrays the opposite: shiny eyes, ajar lips, all full of him. When he slowly detaches from you, feel the warm little filaments of his seed dripping between your thighs. He looks at you, pleased, and with a sweet and degrading smile, caresses your marked skin. "Dirty little human… all filled with my blood, my seed… so it should always be."

You let yourself go over him, exhausted, your head on his chest still uneven from breathing. Damp hair frames your face, and he kisses you softly on the forehead. "Mine. You've always been. You will be forever." His words sound like a statement, but they carry the weight of an immortal oath. You feel them slipping on your skin like a sweet chain. Tremble, vulnerable. But also safe.

"Heeseung … I love you…" he whispers. He closes his eyes, as if that moment were sacred. Then he squeezes you harder, the voice a dark whisper. "Go back to sleep. I'll wake you up in the morning…and I'll show you how sweet I love you."

But his "sweet way" has nothing human. It's not breakfast in bed. It is to see you trembling, full of him again. It is still savoring your blood, mixing your pleasure with its hunger. It will wake you up with slow bites and thrust into you, without giving you respite. Because Heeseung loves you. But he's a monster. And you love him anyway.

SUNGHOON (PROFESSOR BOYFRIEND VAMPIRE)

Faculty of Law, 10:37 a.m.

Classroom C. Law of the Duties and Powers of Vampires.

A course that once sounded like science fiction—until society stopped sweeping blood under the rug.

As always, you were seated in the front row.

Short skirt, good-girl turtleneck sweater, notebook open, pen in hand.

But your tightly pressed thighs told a different story.

"It’s not my fault Sunghoon talks about international treaties like he's whispering dirty things in a bedroom."

The tenured professor was absent—a centuries-old vampire, dull as dust, who walked and talked like an ancient scroll.

Today, as had been the case for the past few months, the lecture was left in the hands of his substitute.

Park Sunghoon.

Vampire. Twenty-six on paper, with the cold, detached gaze of someone who had already lived far too long.

He entered. Silence.

No one breathed as he walked between the desks.

Dark jacket, shirt buttoned all the way up. No smile—just a steady voice as he laid the papers on the desk.

"Today we’ll discuss Article 17 of the 2022 Blood-Crown Pact, which regulates the legitimacy of mental coercion by vampires in legal contexts."

His tone was low, clear, lethal.

Every word slid under your skin and yet, he never looked at you. Not once. No extra glances. No hesitation.

As if you didn’t exist.

"Maybe he doesn’t notice me. Or maybe… he’s avoiding me."

You raised your hand. Blood-red nails.

He looked up. Silence in the room.

"Miss (Your Name), go ahead." His voice was lower. Slower.

"With all due respect, Professor… you stated that mental coercion is only legitimate in emergency contexts. But according to more recent legal interpretations, a vampire may use it to prevent irreversible harm—even before an emergency occurs. Am I wrong?"

A blade. No one ever spoke to him like that. He stared at you, not for a second. For too long. Time froze.

"That’s it. He hates me. Or maybe… he’ll eat me."

"Interesting." Sunghoon stood up.

He walked toward you. Each step was a heartbeat.

"You’ve just challenged my interpretation with a partial reading of a poorly cited case. But I like that you tried."

He stopped in front of your desk.

"I’d like to discuss this further with you. After class. Office 2.13. Don’t keep me waiting."

And just like that, he walked back to the desk.

Your heart was pounding.

Cold. Brilliant. Arrogant and damn irresistible.

Office 2.13 – 5:06 p.m.

You knocked. Two sharp raps.

"Come in." His voice slipped through the door like a thin blade. You opened it and stepped inside.

The room was cold, like the heat had never been turned on.

The lights were dim, curtains drawn. The dark wood of the bookcases seemed to swallow every sound and there, in the middle of that frozen silence, sat him.

Park Sunghoon.

Behind his black glass desk, typing rapidly on a matte-finish laptop. To his right, resting casually, a half-empty blood bag.

The red liquid dripped slowly along the plastic, and for a moment, you thought:

"He drinks while grading exams. Magnificent."

You stepped closer. He looked up. His eyes didn’t have the hunger of an ordinary vampire. They were colder. Smarter. More dangerous.

"Come here. Take a look—since you're so brilliant."

He tilted the screen toward you. On the document was your argument—the one you'd used to “correct” him in class.

And below it… a proposal sent to the High Council of Vampires.

"Wait… he used my thesis?!" You smirked, cocky. "I may not be a vampire, but I clearly know more than some of you."

Sunghoon stopped. Slowly closed the laptop. He stood, with surgical calm, and fixed his gaze on you.

"Care to explain how you dared to correct me?" A pause. His eyes slid over your body. "Or are you just reckless?"

You smiled, just a little. That teasing tone you used when you wanted to be noticed.

"I’m not afraid of you, Professor. Or your fangs."

You were going to provoke him until he bit. He took a step toward you. Then another. Now he was inches away. You could feel his cold breath on your skin.

His canines, white and gleaming. A smear of dried blood on his lower lip. He leaned in. Too close.

"You should be." His voice dropped, almost a whisper. "You smell… dangerously tempting."

He inhaled softly, eyes half-lidded.

"Sweet. Fresh. Like ripe fruit ready to be bitten. If I were an older vampire… you’d already be drained in the courtyard."

A shiver ran down your spine.

"Is he saying that to scare me? Or to… prepare me?"

"You're not scared, are you?"

He studied you. His tone was neutral, but something simmered beneath it. You didn’t answer.

"Good. Because you’re going to work with me."

He handed you a sheet. An extracurricular project for outstanding students. A special assignment.

Working with him.

Extra hours. Night sessions.

Access to restricted documents. Private meetings.

Just you and him.

"Do you accept?" He looked at you with eyes that already claimed you. You swallowed.

But your pride spoke before your instincts could.

"I accept."

(What could possibly go wrong, right?)

Sunghoon smiled. But it wasn’t kind.

It was the smile of someone who had just caught something.

"Perfect. We start tomorrow night. Eight p.m. Bring your intellectual appetite and wear something comfortable."

The months with Sunghoon passed like elongated shadows across the cold marble of the faculty halls.

Every evening, every meeting, every paper edited together with him… was like burning slowly. You fed on everything—Korean ramen, Indian curry, margherita pizza at three in the morning—

While he drank in silence from sterile blood bags provided by the Blood Bank ut every time his fingers got too close to your skin… you felt something inside him struggling to break free.

It wasn’t hunger.

It was a hunger for you.

In class, he was strict. Cynical.

"Miss (Your Name), your analysis is incorrect. Again."

But then, with a low and cutting glance, he’d murmur under his breath:

"Maybe if you stopped wearing such short skirts… You could focus better."

And every time, you challenged him with a defiant smile.

But he looked at you like he was undressing you with his eyes, slowly, precisely. At night, during private study sessions in his office or the small faculty-only room in the library, things were different.

The margins of the legal texts he gave you were filled with handwritten Latin phrases.

“Me ardere facis.”

You make me burn.

“Exsanguis tuae vocis sonitu.”

The sound of your voice drains me.

“Me consumis ut nox solem.”

You consume me like night devours the sun.

You never mentioned them. But every time you read them… your thighs clenched.

A few nights later, while reviewing your thesis draft, he made you sit on his lap.

You were confused, but you didn’t move. He said nothing. Just took your wrists and made you hold the book steady while he annotated it.

His cold breath brushed your neck.

Then… without a word, his fingers slid beneath your skirt, adjusting your position with glacial precision.

You shivered. And then… his nose touched the curve of your neck.

A barely-there bite. Almost a kiss. Almost a promise.

"Pro…fessor…"

Your breath trembled.

"Ssshhh."

His voice was low, calm, surgical.

"Hold still. I’m looking for inspiration…"

The tip of his tongue traced a spot where the blood pulsed closest to your skin.

You moaned, unintentionally.

"So bold in class… and now you tremble from a touch?"

His hand grazed your back, slowly.

"You’re wet, aren’t you? Because you like that I’m the one in control." A pause. "Don’t pretend to be surprised. You know I want you. But I prefer you like this—silent, in my hands."

He had access to everything.

Your academic records. Campus surveillance. He knew where you were, who you spoke to, how long you stayed out of the dorms.

But he wasn’t jealous. He was calm. Clinical. Deadly.

With other students, he was harsh, sarcastic, impatient.

With you… he was cold. But obsessively present.

Whenever you left his classroom, his fingers always brushed yours too slowly as he returned your papers.

He touched you without really touching you.

And you… were going insane.

Was he manipulating you?

Yes.

Was he desiring you?

Even more.

Was he owning you?

Not yet. But it was only a matter of time. And you…were letting him.

The clock in the teachers' lounge read 10:21 PM.

Twenty-one minutes late.

The hallway was empty, the faculty cloaked in that thick silence that felt more like a crypt than a university.

The light in his office was on. As always. As if he never slept.

And maybe… he didn’t.

You still had on the dark red lipstick he hated, and the scent of prosecco clung to your skin.

Your collarbones sparkled faintly from the birthday glitter.

A birthday you hadn’t told him about.

Or maybe you had. Maybe you’d told him in just the wrong way, on purpose—just to see if it would get under his skin.

You did that a lot with him. You pushed. You provoked.

Hoping he’d lose control.

You opened the door slowly, without knocking.

And he was there.

Sitting behind the desk, jacket off, tie loose. Glasses perched on his nose.

His gaze fixed on you like he was reading you from the inside out.

“Good,” he said. “At least you’re alive.”

His voice was low, like a sheet of ice threatening to crack beneath your feet.

You forced a smile. “I said I might drop by after dinner…”

“No,” he cut in, closing the book in his hands. “You said might, and that was the only honest word you used.”

He stood.

The way he moved always gave you chills: slow, perfectly controlled. Like he never quite touched the ground.

He came closer, unhurried. His dark eyes never left your face.

“You’re twenty-one minutes late, you reek of sugar and alcohol, and you showed up in a skirt that makes even the air feel ashamed.”

“I thought I’d make up for it with my stage presence.”

He laughed softly. But there was no joy in it—only disdain. Or maybe hunger.

“You’re not making up for anything. You’re provoking.”

He walked past you, moving behind you. His breath was barely audible. But you felt it on your neck.

“You think I can’t recognize a challenge when I see one?”

You turned slightly, uncertain. “I haven’t done anything to deserve that tone.”

“No?”

With a sharp motion, he grabbed your wrist—not violently, but with that quiet strength that always made you forget he was anything human.

He guided you to the front of the desk. His voice had changed. Deeper. Thicker.

“Bend over. Hands on the wood. And don’t speak.”

“Sunghoon—”

“Don’t.” His hand landed on the back of your neck, pushing you forward with fierce gentleness.

“Don’t give me orders in my house.”

The wood was cold beneath your palms. Your heart beat too fast. But it wasn’t fear.

It was something deeper. More dangerous.

It wasn’t the first time he became… like this.

Controlled. Cold. As if constantly fighting between desire and duty.

He had kissed you. Touched you. Even let you sit on his lap while he corrected your thesis.

But he had never asked you to be his. Never said you were.

And yet… he acted like you were.

Always.

You heard the buttons of your shirt being undone, the collar folding down. Then, his voice by your ear.

“Twenty minutes late. Twenty-one strikes.”

His hand came down on your left cheek. Sharp. The sound shocked you.

You held it in. A low moan.

“Count,” he murmured.

“…One.”

The second came harder.

“Two…”

By the third, you couldn’t help but gasp.

Your blood pounded between your legs.

Each strike wasn’t punishment—it was attention. Desire.

It was him, reminding you that he saw you.

At the fifth, without thinking, you whispered:

“…Sir…”

He stopped.

The silence was sharper than any slap.

You felt his cold hand trace the back of your neck, then rise to your chin.

He turned your face toward him.

His eyes were black. Glossy. Too glossy.

“Say it again.”

“Sir…”

A tremor passed through his jaw.

“Finally,” he murmured. “Finally you understand who you are here.”

He released your face and let his hand slide down your spine, his fingers tracing the curve of your back.

Then, his breath at your neck.

“Shame it’s too late for gentleness.” He lowered your panties slowly, surgically. And you stopped breathing.

Then—no warning—his lips on your neck. A kiss.

Cold. Wet.

Then… a bite. Gentle. A promise.

“You’re trembling,” he whispered. “And it’s not from pain. It’s because you like that I dominate you.”

You gasped, slick and fevered.

“Then why don’t you claim me?” you hissed. “You act like my boyfriend, but you never say it. Why don’t you tell me I’m yours?”

There was silence.

Then, his voice changed. It was almost… human. Hurting.

“Because if I say it,” he answered, “I’ll never be able to let you go.

And I… I don’t know if I’m ready to truly ruin you.”

Giggle. A broken, hysterical sound, full of shame and pleasure. Tears ran down your cheeks, warm and silent. But it was not pain. Not anymore. It was surrender. It was true.

"You know, don't you?" you murmured between breaths, your voice broken and your eyes shining. "You know I'm your soul mate. You know that, too."

The sound of your heart seemed to fill the room. Strong. Sincere. Unconscious. His hand stopped halfway through yet another slap. Stay there, suspended. Tend. Trembling. The silence that followed was different from everyone else's. Dense. Heavy. It lasted a second too long. Then two. Then three. When he spoke, his voice was a knife on bare skin.

"Stop saying things you don't understand." Hiss. Icy. Sharp.

"Stop challenging me. To provoke me. You know what you are to me … and what I become when you remind me." He leaned over you, his long, sharp body towering over you like a living shadow. It didn't weigh, yet it crushed you.

The power he emanated was almost tangible. His breath grazed your back of your head. His voice was almost a bite. "Look how easy you are. A spanking and your thighs are flooded. You made yourself beautiful today … for whom? You thought I wouldn't notice?"

He took you by the hair with cruel precision, forcing you to look up at the glass of the bookcase. The reflection that looked at you was not that of the model student. Nope. You were disheveled, flushed, wet, stripped of your dignity, and… more alive than ever.

"Look where you're at," he whispered. "With your face on my desk and your ass uncovered. Everyone sees you as a brilliant student. But I … I know how much you like to be my docile little bitch." A groan eluded you, involuntary. A desperate sound. Ravenous. He lowered his head. He smiled against your skin. "Tell me you're mine." It was not a request. It was a command. And you wanted it.

"I am…" you gasped. "I want to be. Please … take me." A dry sound. Zipper. Time stopped. You just turned around, anxious. The heart exploded. You wanted to see him. You should have seen him. His underwear was already on the ground, abandoned as an offering.

His body … pale, perfect, carved like cursed marble. And his erection… cruel. Impressive. Beautiful. It was beautiful. But most of all … it was dangerous. A hungry god. Your god. You, just his adoring prey. And he knew it. He looked at you from above, eyes ajar, veins at the pulsating temples. The narrow jaw. The slow smile, corrupt, full of power.

"Hands against the table." The voice was low, velvety, unreal. "Back straight. Open hips." You obeyed, trembling. His icy hands closed around your hips. Strong. Decide. Then … he penetrated you. One push. Slow. Inexorable. As if it were entering your soul. You heard it. All. In. Too. A groan escaped from your lips. Fingers clung to the edge of the desk as if to save themselves.

"Hoon …" you stammered. "It's too much…" "That's enough," he corrected you, sinking again, with that slowness punished and precise. "Because it's mine. And that's what you're made for. For me." Every shot was controlled, restrained. A chained fury. Every push was like he wanted to brand you from the inside. "Did you really think that your short skirts had no consequences?" he hissed, his teeth clenched. "Or that I could come to me late … without paying the price?"

He stopped. Motionless inside you. He punished you. "Move," you gasped. "Please … please, Hoon…" He smiled at your spine. "Look how you beg. How good you are at being my good whore when you need it. But the truth is, even if you hate me, even if you challenge me, you always come back to me. Because only I make you feel that way."

Then he moved. First slowly. Then stronger. Deeper. Every blow is a punishment. Every groan is an adoration. And you groaned. Not as a girl. From him. Not as a student. From belonging. "You are mine," he hissed at your skin. "You always have been. And no one will ever touch you. You're my human. My secret. My damage."

The room was full of obscene sounds. Skin against skin. Broken breath. Your hushed sobs. And when you stooped even more, offering yourself, opening up, destroyed, consumed, lost… he kissed your back. Gently. The only kind gesture. But it was enough to make you tremble. You were his. And you would have been, even if it meant burning.

Scream. A broken cry, pure pleasure climbing up your throat as he held you tightly against the table, nailing you with body and desire. His thrusts became deeper and deeper, more and more cruel. As if he wants to destroy you and rebuild you at the same time. "H-Hoon…!" you stammered, your voice broken," I want to come … please, let me come…" He chuckled. That slow, corrupt laugh that made you feel naked inside. "You deserve it, really?" he asked, the tone poisonous, sadistic.

"Because I'm not convinced." Nodded strongly, the hips moving alone against his pelvis. "Yes … yes, I deserve it, please…please…" "Polite little bitch now, huh?" he hissed, squeezing you even harder. "When you moaned my name in front of that damn glass you didn't look so innocent." His thumb reached your clitoris, touching it with quick and precise movements. Your body gasped. The pleasure exploded in waves that took your breath away.

"S-yes, yes… more… do not stop!" you groaned, bent under him. And he giggled again. "Here she is. That's how I like you." A few moments later, you came with a cry that broke the air. A red-hot, devastating pleasure ran through you all while he kept pushing inside you, hard, deep. Your moods ran down his thighs, hot, sticky, the intimate creases throbbing around his cock.

"Good girl," he praised you, panting. "You tightened so much as you came…" He kept pushing. Faster. Stronger. His breathing became uneven against your back. "Can I come into you?" he asked, his voice hoarse, restrained, on the verge of the end.

"No…" you groaned, trembling. But then — a heartbeat-and you changed. «You. Yes, you can. I want you inside." He stopped. Just a second. "Say it right," he ordered. "I want to hear it." "I'll take the pill," he whispered, between sobs of pleasure. "You can come inside me, Hoon. Fill."

The sound he made was almost a growl. "So we talk." With a violent and deep thrust, he came into you. But it was at that exact moment — when the pleasure overwhelmed him-that he really lost control. He sank his face into your neck, and his canines emerged. There was no hesitation, no mercy.

He bit you. A sharp, hungry, deep bite. Not to kill you. Not to feed. To tie you up. To claim you. Because it wasn't enough to come inside you — he had to brand you. The pain was a spark, immediately followed by an even blinding wave of pleasure. You felt his hot seed explode inside you, as blood dripped from your neck and your body stretched under his. His hips trembled. His breath became bestial. The white filaments of his pleasure dripped between your thighs, warm, dense. And as it came off your neck, with a broken sigh, the tongue passed gently over the wound, barely healing it.

His eyes — dark, red, tired-stared at you as if you were the most sacred thing ever touched. "Now yes …" he murmured against your skin, " … now you are mine in everything." When he broke away from you, slowly, he gently turned and squeezed you to your chest. His arms strong, his hands trembling. He hugged you like he was afraid of losing you. Tears came down from your eyes, this time without shame. Hot drops that slipped on his bare pecs, wetting his pale skin.

"It's hotter than usual…" you whispered, surprised, still immersed in ecstasy. He looked at you. An expression you've never seen before. Almost … tender. "Only with a soul mate," he said softly. "Only then … the heat returns.» You giggled, still shaking. A broken sound, but sincere. "So … is that why you seemed less glacial today?" He took your face in his hands. He did it with care. With devotion. "You look beautiful when you cry for me. But your tears must only be of pleasure. Only joy. Just ecstasy."

He looked at you, seriously. Eyes full of ancient promise. "From today … you are bound to me. This is my deal. My invisible mark. No other vampire will touch you. No one else will hear you. You're … mine." Then, in a simple and strangely human gesture, he bent down and took a sweatshirt from the chair behind the chair. It was black, smelling of him. He gently poked it into you. He helped cover you. And then he kissed you on the forehead.

You smiled. Mischievous, even tired as you were. "Are you really my boyfriend?" Your voice was cheeky. Theatrical. He laughed, this time with a poisonous sweetness. "I always have been. It just took you a while to figure it out." "You're a weird boyfriend. Dark. Vampire. Professor." "And you are brash, stubborn, and too awake for your own good. But you're mine." He squeezed you more. The heart beat slowly, but sure. And for the first time, you felt protected.

JAY (BODY-GUARD BOYFRIEND VAMPIRE)

Being the daughter of an American diplomat—at least from the outside—must have looked like a fairytale. Designer clothes. Exclusive invitations. A last name that opened doors like a golden crowbar. But the truth was, every night as you stepped through the gates of the villa, the emptiness wrapped around you like a coat two sizes too small. Your father was there. But not really. And the silence in that house always seemed to swallow you whole—like a hungry mouth. The only place you could breathe was on campus. The cafés. The university hallways. But ever since that damned article about your father’s political crusade for “vampire rights” came out, even that had become hostile territory. Hissed insults. Anonymous messages. Stares that burned your skin. Jimmy, your long-time bodyguard, had lasted two years. Then his wife got pregnant, and apparently, a newborn was more dangerous than you. Now you were alone. Or almost. You were at your desk, the warm lamp light spilling over your business economics textbook. A page full of charts you knew you’d never really understand. Then, three knocks on the door.

“It’s open!” you called, expecting Sophie with the latest campus gossip. But when you looked up… it was your father. Double-breasted suit. Tired smile. Eyes already drifting over your room—messy, as usual.

'Ever think about calling pest control for this battlefield?'

You got up with a shrug. “For your information, this battlefield just found the underwear I’ve been missing for three days.”

He laughed, then pulled you into a hug. Strong. Warm. Dad. For a second, time stood still.

'I missed you, my little girl.' “I missed you too, Ambassador of Disaster.”

You felt him chuckle against your hair.

But then—you tensed. Because... someone else was there. Behind him.

When you pulled away and looked up… you saw him.

A man.

No. A weapon in a tailored suit.

Black. Precise. Sharp. Tall, powerful, with a jaw sculpted by a too-generous god. Hair slicked back. Eyes… Brown. But veined with red.

A hue that pulsed—like embers under ash.

He looked young, yet ancient. Human… and not. His skin too flawless. A golden sheen, as if the sun had touched him once before being banished forever.

You let out a barely-there, ironic whisper as your gaze swept him from head to toe:

“Uh. Who’s the Matrix cosplayer?”

Your father sighed.

'That cosplayer is your new walking umbrella. Jay Park. Your new bodyguard.'

“...Excuse me?”

Jay simply nodded. No smile. No emotion. But his eyes…They were scanning you. As if he already knew every inch of your skin.

Every habit. Every dream. Every moan.

And in that moment, you understood only one thing:

You were no longer alone. And maybe… no longer free.

You’d never believed in hell—Until they literally moved it into your room.

The bed came in carried by four men. Black, minimal, perfect. Just like him. Jay Park. Half-blood. Cold. Unbearable. Beautiful.

Your father had left for a mission in the Middle East, with one very clear instruction:

“He’ll follow your every step. No arguments.”

Of course, you were going to argue.

“Let me get this straight,” you said, hands on your hips, staring at the bed now placed beside yours. “You need to share my oxygen just to do your little shadow-with-a-license job?”

Jay didn’t even turn around. He was sliding a holster under the pillow. “I don’t breathe.” “Oh, what a shame. So you can’t even sigh about how boring you are?”

He looked at you. Slowly. Sharply. His gaze was like a scratch on bone.

“The perimeter’s too wide. I can’t guarantee your safety from outside this room.” “I feel like I’m in prison.” “This isn’t prison. It’s a safety protocol.”

You stepped closer. Arms crossed. Goosebumps. Not from fear. From him.

Jay Park looked like he’d stepped out of a forbidden painting. A chiseled jaw. Broad shoulders beneath a black shirt. That neck—long, strong, biteable. His hands were large, precise, cold. And his eyes. Those eyes. Brown, with streaks of crimson—like sunset trapped inside, trembling.

You were 22. On paper, he was 24. In reality? One hundred and seventy. Your very own ancient stalker.

“Tell me,” you sighed, mock-dramatic. “Are you here to protect me or torment me?”

“Both, if necessary,” he said in that voice that never rose. Never shouted. Never hesitated. You, on the other hand, exploded.

“I don’t want some silent shadow watching me sleep! I want privacy. I want to do what I want. I want to live!”

He didn’t answer right away. He studied you. He had that infuriating way of watching you like he was calculating your breaths per minute.

Then he spoke.

“Privacy? Fine. But if someone slaughters you in the bathroom while you’re putting on lip gloss, who’s going to tell your father? You?”

You burst out laughing. Bitter. Furious. Amused.

“You’re an insufferable half-blood bastard, you know that?”

He raised one eyebrow. The only sign of life.

“Better you hate me than end up dead.”

Silence. For a moment. Too long. Too full.

You stared at him. And something inside you curled in on itself. How could someone so cold… make you feel warm?

Your thoughts:

Why the hell does he have to be so gorgeous? And so damn calm? He follows me like a shadow and drives me insane. Sure, he’s good with weapons, but what could he do with those hands? Those hands... so disciplined, so strong. On my neck? On my hips? No. Stop. He’s your bodyguard. He’s half vampire. He’s… too much.

His thoughts:

She hates me. Good. Better that way. But those eyes. That mouth. The way she moves like she doesn’t know how desirable she is. Or worse—like she knows exactly. I can’t afford distractions. I can’t. But when she smiles, something in me breaks. Damn it, I’ll be the one to kill her if she keeps looking at me like that.

Then he turned.

“Here are the rules.” “Rules?” “Agreed upon with your father.”

He tossed you a printed sheet. Ten bullet points. The first: “Jay has the right to enter any space you occupy—including the bathroom.”

You laughed. Again. Bold. Shameless.

“Screw you, Robocop.” “I’d rather not have to, but you’re pushing me to consider it.”

And then… it happened.

For a second, your eyes locked.

And the fire that had been burning silently under your skin… sparked into something visible. Uncontrollable.

But neither of you moved. Neither of you gave in. Not yet.

Two months had passed since Jay started living with you.

Two months of sharp silences, rules written in invisible ink, and stares that spoke too loudly, even when no one said a word.

You were convinced your father had hired Jay to protect you. In reality, it felt more like constant surveillance. A cold, elegant shadow that knew every step you took before you even made it. He knew where you drank your coffee, which perfume you wore, which shoes you put on when you needed to feel safer. He had learned it all. Too quickly.

And the worst part? You couldn’t stop thinking about him.

It didn’t help that he was beautiful in a way that felt almost cruel. That kind of beauty that made you want to touch it just to see if it was real. Dark hair, pale skin but not lifeless, brown eyes streaked with red as if something inside him burned, refusing to die.

That night, you decided to provoke him. To test him.

You carefully chose the shortest nightgown, the one you had bought for laughs with your friends, never thinking you’d actually wear it. But now… it was perfect. And you were tired of being looked at from afar, like some risk to be contained.

You entered the room with light steps. He was sitting on the bed, legs crossed, a book open in his hands. He didn’t look at you immediately, but you knew he had heard you. He always heard everything.

“Jay,” you whispered, feigning innocence. “Can I ask you something?”

He didn’t respond, but he turned his face just enough. His gaze landed on your legs. Slowly, it slid up to meet your eyes.

“In your long vampire life… have you ever had anyone?”

His lips barely moved. “Just one.”

You moved closer, sitting at the edge of his bed. The mattress shifted, but he stayed still. Only his eyes betrayed him, following every small movement of your thigh, revealed by the silk of your nightgown.

“And where is she now?” “Mortal,” he murmured. “And dead.”

You froze. Then tilted your head. “She thought she was your soulmate, didn’t she?”

He didn’t speak for a second. Then: “She did.”

“But you didn’t.” He shook his head slightly.

“How can you be so sure?” you asked, moving closer still, your eyes locked with his. “They say vampires can feel it… when they meet their soulmate. That their blood warms. That the hunger changes.”

He stared at you. His eyes seemed redder now. Sharper. “That’s exactly why I’m sure.”

Your heart hammered. But your smile didn’t falter. In fact, you challenged him. You slowly lifted your leg, pretending to adjust yourself more comfortably on the bed. The silk of the nightgown slid further.

“You should go to sleep,” he said, his voice raspy, rougher than usual. “I’m not tired.” “I don’t care.”

“Jay…” you whispered his name like a secret. And that’s when it happened.

In an instant, he was standing, right in front of you. His dark eyes, red at the edges. His hands tense at his sides, veins visible under the white skin. “Stop.”

You stood too. Your breath trembled, but you didn’t pull back. “Do I scare you… or do you just want me to believe it?”

He suddenly bent down, his face only inches from yours. “If I really scared you, you wouldn’t be this close.”

And that’s when he showed them. His fangs. Long, sharp, beautiful.

He bit you with his gaze, not his teeth. But it was worse.

“So… tell me something.”

His figure was an elegant shadow near the window, moonlight brushing his broad shoulders, the black shirt half open, dark hair tousled as if he had run his hands through it for hours, trying to hold himself back.

“You never stop talking, do you?” Jay replied without turning around, his voice deep, sarcastic, filled with that typical boredom that concealed a burning obsession beneath his skin.

You approached, barefoot, the barely perceptible sound of your steps on the wooden floor. “No. And you like me this way, admit it.” You smiled, mischievously. Your nightgown was short, sliding over your skin like silk, exposing your shoulders and bare legs.

He barely turned around. His eyes, as black as night, had a red hue, deep and threatening. His lips were slightly parted, his fangs visible for just a second. “Talking too much with a vampire is the fastest way to get bitten, you know?”

“Mmm, interesting…” You stopped in front of him. Your gaze was clear, but heavy with restrained desire. “Then I’ll bite you first.”

Jay stared at you in silence. Then he slowly lowered his gaze to your lips. “You’re a nightmare.”

“And you’re my personal bodyguard. So… who’s worse?” You ran your fingers over his chest, tracing the line of his heart. It was warm—too warm for a vampire.

Then, in a low voice, you asked, “But what if… I’m your soulmate?” You looked at him as if searching for confirmation deep within his dark eyes.

His body gave a slight jolt, imperceptible, but you noticed it.

He didn’t answer right away. He just stared at you as if he wanted to devour every word. Every beat. Every drop.

“Don’t say things like that.” His voice trembled just slightly, scratched by something deeper. “You can’t play with a vampire’s feelings. I could break your heart. Or worse… I could never give it back.”

You smiled softly. “Who said I want my heart back?”

You placed your hands on his shoulders, feeling the taut muscles under your fingers. He was a living sculpture, beautiful and lethal. And when you locked eyes with him, that innocent and provocative look combined, he lost all resistance.

He was the first to lean in. His kiss was slow, too slow, as if he were tasting a poison that would destroy him. His lips were cold at first… then they warmed, pressing against yours. You opened your mouth immediately, curious, bold, and your tongue sought his, with a nearly impatient moan.

“You damn curious thing,” he whispered against your lips, his voice raspy. “You don’t know how to play fair.”

“Who said I wanted to play fair?”

When you kissed him for real, it was all fire and hunger. His hands slipped into your hair, gripping forcefully as he pulled you closer. His chest was hard against yours, his breath heavy, irregular. You shifted your body, and he fell back onto the bed, you on top.

“Stop…” he said, his eyes shining with danger and desire. “This is wrong. Go back to bed. Sleep.”

“No.”

You moved slowly on top of him, feeling his reaction beneath you. He closed his eyes for a second, almost in torture.

You moved your hips slowly, teasing him, and he growled through clenched teeth, placing a strong hand on your thigh, then sliding it down to your ass and pulling you even closer, making you feel every inch of his arousal.

“Feel how warm you are for me,” you whispered, blushing but smiling. “How can you say we’re not connected?”

Jay opened his eyes. He looked at you like you were the only light in a damned world.

“Shut up. You… don’t know anything.”

And then he kissed you. With force. With need. He bit your bottom lip, and you gasped softly as you felt the blood come out, but he didn’t pull back. He licked it. Sucked it gently, as if every drop was gold.

“So good…” he murmured against your lips. “Your blood… it’s too good.”

You looked at him, surprised, fascinated. “Would you drink me dry?”

He laughed, but it was a rough laugh. “If I do… I’ll never let you go.”

“Then do it.”

Since the night you kissed, something had changed in Jay. Not that he had ever been particularly open or easy to read — he remained your mysterious, cynical half-vampire bodyguard, with eyes as black as ink and a soul worn down by too many solitary nights — but now, he was everywhere. Everywhere you were.

He followed you with his gaze even when he pretended to be reading. He studied you as if you were an unsolvable mystery… or a threat to his sanity.

Even now, sitting at the far end of the empty library in the estate, he was watching you.

You were hunched over your modern history books, chewing on the tip of a pen, your legs folded on the chair, your socks slipping a bit. A tender, innocent image — too innocent for a vampire with miscalibrated instincts.

“Stop it,” he said softly, but his gaze never wavered.

You looked up and smiled, all light and provocation. “Stop what?”

“Torturing me.”

“I’m studying.”

“You move your legs while you study. And you chew on your lip.”

“Oh.” You pretended to think about it. “Am I distracting you?”

“No. I’m calculating the diplomatic risk of tearing you off that chair and biting you for half an hour. Let me finish my calculations.”

You laughed quietly. You stood slowly, making your bracelet jingle on your wrist. You approached his table. He looked at you without moving, leaning back in the dark leather chair, fingers intertwined on the table where maps, ancient grimoires, and a dagger your father should never have known about were scattered.

“What are you studying?” you asked sweetly, sitting next to him and sticking your nose between his papers.

“Night defense strategies. Protection from rebellious packs. Poisons. It concerns you.”

“Aww, my little vampire is protecting me…”

Jay let out a low sound, almost a restrained growl. He glanced at you sideways, his eyes briefly flashing red.

“You know I don’t like when you use that tone.”

“But you’re my secret boyfriend. It’s the least I can do.”

“Your father would send you to a monastery if he knew.”

“Yeah, and you’d be my guard there, too.”

He chuckled, dark and tired. “Yeah, but I’d sleep in your bed. Like now.”

That evening, in your secret room at the top of the villa, Jay was different.

More silent. More real.

He often cooked something for you — he said it didn’t make sense to feed you only sandwiches and sarcasm. He’d watch you while you ate, in silence, and then he’d lean in to taste something straight from your fork. One time, you had provoked him by saying he looked like a 1950s husband. He had bitten your neck.

Literally.

A little. Just a pinch. Just enough to make you tremble.

“That’ll teach you to talk too much,” he had said that time, his fingers tightening on your waist.

And you had smiled at him, cheeks flushed, asking if he liked biting you whenever you were disobedient.

He looked at you with that predatory face, tired of holding back.

“No,” he had said. “I like biting you even when you’re doing nothing.”

You often slept together. Officially because you were afraid of extreme vampires, and he had to protect you. Unofficially, because by now, he could only fall asleep with you on top of him.

He held you as if you were the only warm thing in his world of eternal cold. His chin resting on your head, arms crossed around your waist. Sometimes you’d wake up feeling his lips on your neck, whispering words you couldn’t understand. Other times, he simply watched you sleep. And if you woke up and talked too much — like usual — he’d silence you with a slow, distracted kiss, as if he couldn’t help it.

Every day, he became more protective. Every night, more dependent on you.

Yet, no one knew. Only you.

Only you knew that Jay, the coldest guard in the villa, would cook you pasta at three in the morning when you couldn’t sleep. Only you knew that he had a weakness for the smell of your wet hair. Only you knew that if a guy looked at you too much during a diplomatic lunch, Jay would spend three days grinding his teeth.

And only you knew how his hands trembled when he caressed your back, as if every touch risked breaking you.

“You get more obsessed every day,” you had whispered to him once, as you slipped under the sheets.

He didn’t deny it. He had just slowly moved your hair from your face and said:

“No. I don’t obsess. I… possess you. And you still don’t realize it.”

The villa was lit with golden lights and elegant music, but the atmosphere was unabashedly youthful: young heirs from diplomatic families, sons and daughters of senators, half-blood creatures, well-dressed humans, and vampires pretending to be harmless.

You wore an emerald green dress, flowing against your body like living silk. It hugged your curves gracefully and left your back exposed, where the subtle reflection of your bare skin was visible. Your legs, your shoulders, your neck — everything shone, everything screamed temptation.

And him... Jay was there. As always. Silent. In a corner of shadow. His eyes slightly reddened, jaw clenched, gloved fingers trembling just a little. His posture was tense, like a rope ready to snap. He wasn’t here as your boyfriend. He was your bodyguard. So he couldn’t touch you. He couldn’t brush against you. He couldn’t claim you.

He watched you as you smiled at everyone, as you spoke with that curious and sweet voice, as you moved your hands and hips with a grace that was slowly destroying him.

Every boy who approached you was a stab in the chest. Every smile you gave, a poison. But Jay was trained in control. And yet...

Then he arrived.

Blond, tall, elegant. Blue eyes. Smooth talker. The perfect type to irritate Jay to the core. And he wasn’t just “any type.” He was a vampire. One of the old ones, hungry, who knew how to disguise his intentions well. Jay knew immediately. He felt it in the heartbeat. He saw it in the eyes: too red to be normal. He was covering them with illusory lenses. But Jay wasn’t fooled.

And yet you... you laughed. You didn’t know who he was. You had no idea.

Until he placed a hand on your exposed back. A cold touch. You stiffened. You tried to pull back, but he grabbed your wrist with force.

“Let go of me...” you whispered, frightened, glancing around, but everyone seemed too far away. The blond looked at you with those ravenous eyes, and you felt the adrenaline rising to your chest. “What do you want from me?!”

And then... it happened like lightning.

Jay tore him away from you. Lifted him literally off the ground and threw him against a marble column, which cracked with a dull sound. The vampire boy screamed, but Jay was already on top of him. His eyes completely red. His fangs bared. His hands trembling with pure rage.

“You shouldn’t have touched her.” Jay’s voice was low, animalistic. “You shouldn’t have even looked at her. She’s mine. Understand? She’s my girlfriend.”

The vampire coughed blood. He smiled. “You’re... getting weak for her... you know that, right? She... she’s your downfall...”

Jay snapped his neck. Slowly. Coldly.

“Shut up.”

You turned, still trembling. Your eyes were teary, your breath broken. “J-Jay...?”

He looked at you. For a second, he was unrecognizable. Then he grabbed your wrist, and without a word, he dragged you out of the hall, ignoring everyone. His hands tightly gripping yours, his pace quick. He dragged you up the stairs, through the deserted halls of the villa, to your room.

As soon as he closed the door, he released his grip. The silence was worse than screams.

“What the hell were you thinking?!” he snapped. “You didn’t know that guy. He could’ve killed you. He was an unstable vampire. And you... YOU... were laughing with him.”

“I didn’t know!” you shouted. “I’m not like you. I don’t hear them. I thought he was just being nice!”

“There’s no such thing as nice in here.” He turned suddenly, furious. He turned his back on you, hands in his hair. “You don’t get it...”

“No, it’s you who doesn’t get it!” you yelled. “One moment you treat me like I’m yours. The next, you talk to me like I’m just your responsibility! But I love you! And you...? What do you intend to do, Jay?! Do you want to love me or protect me like a damn child?!”

Silence fell again.

He turned. He looked at you.

Then he reached you in three steps and kissed you.

It wasn’t a sweet kiss. It was furious. Desirous. Desperate. His hands grabbed your hips with too much force. His lips crushed against yours, as if he wanted to brand you. He bit your lower lip just a little. The blood trickled slowly, and he licked it, growling low.

“You don’t understand how much you hurt me,” he whispered against your mouth. “You’re burning me alive. And I can’t stop.”

You wrapped your arms around his neck. Your heart was pounding in your chest.

“Then don’t stop.”

Jay closed his eyes. He held you tightly against him.

And, finally, he whispered: “You are my primary weakness. And I don’t want to hide it anymore.”

The room was quiet, except for the sharp sound of your hinge that Jay was slowly lowering. With light but firm fingers, it slid along the curve of your back, leaving a liquid shiver wherever it touched you. The green dress fell silent, like an autumn stripped leaf. You, standing in front of him, with only white panties on and a bra, barely shook, but not cold. Of desire. Waiting.

"You're shaking," he whispered, his pupils red like freshly spilled blood. "I'm not cold…" you replied, with a half-smile, short of breath. "You're just too … close." "Not enough." In a flash, he was in front of you. He pushed you slowly onto the bed, with the delicacy of one who is about to worship something sacred… or devour it. He leaned over, slowly kissing your neck, where there were still signs of his jealousy. Then he went further down. His lips reached your breasts. And there, without any haste, he began to torment you with his teeth: small playful bites, then more intense, which made you moan.

"J-Jay … ah -" Your hands clung to his hair, gently pulling them, while your back arched under him. A groan escaped from your lips, too sincere to be restrained. "I hate you…" he whispered, trembling. "No," he answered against your skin, in a hoarse voice, " you adore me. And you like it when I torture you like that…"

Then he just sank one of his canines into the soft edge of your breast. Pinch. A measured bite. And you screamed, but it was a cry broken by pleasure, not pain. "Your blood…" he whispered, as he slowly licked the little trace with his tongue. "It is sweet as poisoned honey. A sentence I want to drink to the end."

His lips descended again. He kissed your belly, then your navel, with slow, adoring movements. You looked at him with shiny eyes, lost in the liquid red of his. And yet you were still smiling, in the way that drove hoo crazy. "Are you going to stop or find out how wet I am -— You didn't finish. He grabbed you forcefully but without violence.

"Open your legs." The tone left no room for doubt. You obeyed, docile, but with a flash of defiance in your eyes. And he looked at you. Your white panties were damp. "So wet for me? So poisonous, yet so innocent. You're a living oxymoron." He slowly lowered the edge of the fabric with his teeth, with the same hypnotic rhythm as a spell. You didn't talk anymore. You were breathing hard. When the panties were on the ground, he lifted up on you, his mouth still moist with your taste.

"You are so beautiful … but without even this veil … you are mine. Perfect. Vulnerable. And ready to be branded." Then you felt the heat of his body on yours. Its length against your bare skin. He wasn't human. It was burning. "You do this to me, you know?" He caressed your hips, with eyes that said everything. "You make me lose my hunger … and at the same time you make me uncontrollable."

His black hair tickled your inner thigh as he moved slowly, his hot, hungry tongue grazing your already swollen, sensitive clit. The contrast between his innate vampire coldness and the scorching heat he made you feel was heavenly torture. Choked moans came out of your lips, one after another, more and more desperate.

"Damn it…" he muttered between licks, his voice hoarse and wounded with desire, "I've never heard any moan like you. You stutter … you cry … like you're made for my touch." Your body trembled, and despite the pleasure that passed through your bones, you frowned and looked at it with a pout. "I don't want to hear about others…" you whispered, almost hurt. "Don't even think about it. He laughed, low and deep, like thunder in a black sky. Without warning you, he pushed two fingers into you with measured, but firm force, tearing a surprised cry from you.

"There are no others. There will never be." His words grew fiercer as he began to move his fingers inside you with hypnotic rhythm. "You are the only one. The only one to make me lose control… the only one I want to protect, tie to me, forever."

You nodded, lost, your mind clouded by increasing pleasure. When I accelerated, pumping harder, you screamed in a choked voice: "I'm going to come…Jay"

He bent over again, his mouth on your skin stretched, and with a light bite — not enough to hurt you, but enough to send you freaking out — pinched your clit between your lips. Your body bowed violently, the discharge of orgasm exploding inside you like a storm, and you screamed his name, trembling. "That's how you do it," he whispered in a dirty voice, as he continued to lick you, savoring every drop of your excitement. "My sweet, dirty girl… my ruin, my obsession. You're perfect…"

Your fingers trembled slightly as you unbuttoned his pants, your heart pounding into his chest as if trying to reach him. The fabric slowly slid down the hips, revealing the noticeable bulge in the dark boxer. You looked at him with a sweet, innocent, almost timid air, Jay squinted, his jaw clenched, as if struggling with something inside himself. Then he nodded quietly. "Take them off." You did it, gently, discovering his taut, imposing erection, the veins pulsing along its entire length and the glans barely pearly with desire. You looked at him with a mixture of amazement and adoration. "You are … magnificent," he whispered, his voice broken.

"As if I was sculpted just for me." A low growl came out of his lips as you stroked him softly, his soft hand drawing light lines on his hard member. He leaned over you, beginning to nibble at the sensitive skin of your neck, leaving small marks like promises etched on fine skin. "Stop it…" he growled through his teeth, " or I lose control. I want you. Hour."

He made you open your legs firmly, but with almost surprising care. He took a pillow and placed it under your pelvis to get up better towards him, then stroked your feet, teasing you with a sharp smile. "Tell me you want me."

"I want you inside me, Jay … now. I can't resist anymore." His body moved in a flash, his hips wedged between your wide-open thighs. And with a single, smooth movement, it sank into you. Your voices merged into a long, tense, almost desperate groan.

"You're… you're like that…" you stammered, your hands grasping him hard as you felt his warmth and hardness fill you. "Perfect," he whispered in turn, her forehead leaning against yours. "So tight, so hot … damn it." He began to move, slowly, with deep and measured thrusts. Each movement was a precise dance between torture and bliss, his gaze glued to your face as you moaned without restraint. "Look how you melt for me…" he muttered in a poisonous voice,

"I'm taking you so well that you can't even speak. A good girl so docile beneath me … yet so dirty." He increased the pace, his thrusts becoming stronger, fiercer. Every shot made you jump, every grunt coming out of his chest felt like an explosion held back for too long. "I've been waiting for you for years. Years!"he almost screamed, with a deeper blow that left you breathless. "And now I can't stop. I don't want to stop." "I'm … I'm coming again!" you cried, your legs shaking around his hips, your body trying to hold him in as long as possible. He growled again, his voice full of desire and brutal tenderness: "Then come. Come while I fuck you like you're mine. Because you are."

His thrusts became deeper, more precise, each stroke that sank you shook the pillow under you and made the pleasure explode in your belly. You felt that you were about to fall again, carried away by those hot waves that left you breathless.

"Wait," Jay growled, clutching your side with possessive force. "I want to go with you."

"N-I can't ... Jay... it's too much..." you sobbed, your face wet with pleasure and tears. He lowered his face to your ear, whispering in that low, broken tone that made your every nerve vibrate: "Good girl ... you'll do as I say. Expect. You are my sweet, obedient ruin."

You started crying with pleasure, your throat producing broken moans as it kept hitting you deeper and deeper, each thrust centered right there—on your most sensitive point—as if it knew every corner of your body by heart.

"T-too much... it's too much,..." you stammered, your voice broken, almost pleading. His fingernails scratched his back, looking for a foothold while he held you tight, his forehead leaning against yours.

"You feel it, don't you?" hiss. "My cock, so deep in you... so wet for me. Jesus, you're wrapping me up so well."

Then, between blows, his breathing became more hoarse, irregular. "I will fill you ... I want you full of my sperm... I want it to drip out of you for hours..." That thought blew you up. Your body clasped tightly around him, as if to hold him inside with visceral force, while your voice broke into desperate sobs and babbles. "I'm ... I'm coming!"

"So good... yes, come for me..." And with one last deep, animalistic lunge, Jay moaned your name against your throat and poured into you. You felt every wave of its warm seed fill you, your body shaking above yours, as it gently nibbled at your neck, leaving a sign that smelled of eternal bonding.

"Finally..." he whispered, kissing the small wound he had left you. Then he retreated slowly, with a subdued groan, while your bodies were still looking for each other even if they were now empty. He squeezed you tight, an arm around your naked waist, and kissed your damp hair, your chest still vibrating beneath you. You snuggled against him, his face hidden between his neck and his skin still warm.

"Jay ... I ... I think I love you," you stammered with a thread of voice, the awkward, tender confession, as if you had just handed your heart into his hands. He was silent for a moment, as if your voice had cut him inside. Then he squeezed you even more. "I love you too," he replied, without hesitation. "You are mine. You always have been." A little later he said, easy: "Now sleep. You're safe."

He felt your breath calm against his chest, your body cradled by his, and your arms enveloping him as if you never wanted to leave him. But his eyes remained open. Dark thoughts crept like smoke into his mind.

“They want it. I know. Those humans, those vampires ... anyone. They look at her too much. They want it. But they don't understand that she's mine.“

He watched you as you slept on him, your lips barely ajar, your eyelashes shaking slowly, your skin still shining with the pleasure he had torn from you. You had soft legs open and untidy, and his seed, hot and white, was still slowly dripping from your thighs. A vision that sent blood to his head, again. Yet, in the darkness of the room, with his cold heart beating only for you, a rotten thought took shape. "Take the pill...” He knew. You told her in a light, naive voice, like nothing. And yet, that little information tortured him.

“Every time I come into you... Your body rejects it. It protects you from me. Even now ... as my seed fills you, your body expels it.” He gritted his teeth. He knew. And he hated it.

He swallowed slowly, his gaze glued to that white drop that ran down from your skin. “I want to look at you after every orgasm... and see you drip out of me.”

“I want to see you get up with wet thighs and feel my smell dripping between your legs.”

“I want you to get pregnant. Even if you're not ready. Even if you don't want it. I want to make you mine from the inside.” He smiled, an expression that no human could ever interpret as love. He was hungry. It was delirium.

“Imagine... your belly growing. Inflate. Because inside there is something of mine. You who tremble, fragile, but full. You who can no longer run away from me, because I live in you.” And then, the darkest thought.

“And if even that child was not born... I would fill you again. Again. And again. Until your body understands that it does not have to expel anything. Until you surrender to my seed. Until you become what you are meant to be: mine.”

He squeezed you tight, as if he could prevent you from waking up from his thoughts. And while he kissed your hair and whispered sweetly that he loved you, he was already planning when to make that little white box disappear that every morning saved you from him.

----------

What story did you like the most? Would you also like Ni-Ki, Sunoo and Jungwon?

💌 vampire taglist: @azzy02 @iluvblackk @skzdelf @hollxe1 @averiesimss @heewenos @bllcksa @yollohblbl

[arxiwon]

[Thread] What Vampire!Enhypen Would Do If Their Girlfriend Was Dying

1. Jungwon 🩸 | The Reluctant Savior

Jungwon freezes, his mind racing between his morals and his love for you. He knows what he has to do, but turning you into a vampire means cursing you with immortality. His hands tremble as he cradles your dying body. "I can't lose you... but will you forgive me for this?" he whispers before sinking his fangs into your neck, sealing your fate with his.

2. Heeseung 🩸 | The Desperate Lover

Panic sets in as Heeseung sees the life fading from your eyes. He’s lived through centuries, but nothing has terrified him more than losing you. "No, no, no—stay with me!" His voice breaks as he bites into his wrist, pressing it against your lips. "Drink, baby. Please. Live for me." He refuses to let you go, even if it means turning you into something monstrous like him.

3. Jay 🩸 | The Broken Protector

Jay has spent his entire existence keeping you safe, yet now, you're slipping away in his arms. "This isn’t how it’s supposed to be," he grits out, his jaw clenched. His instincts scream at him to turn you, but deep down, he fears what eternity might do to you. "If I do this, there's no going back," he whispers, his fangs grazing your skin. But as your heartbeat slows, he makes his choice.

4. Jake 🩸 | The One Who Begs

Jake is wrecked, his body shaking as he holds you. "You promised me forever," he sobs, pressing desperate kisses to your forehead. His throat burns with hunger, but he refuses to take you without your permission. "Please, just wake up and tell me it’s okay," he pleads, knowing time is slipping away. In the end, he can't let you go. He bites down, choosing damnation over loneliness.

5. Sunghoon 🩸 | The Ruthless Decision

Sunghoon watches the light fade from your eyes, his usually cold demeanor cracking. He’s spent years guarding his heart, but with you, he let himself feel. And now? You're dying. "I won't let this happen," he declares, voice like steel. Without hesitation, he bites into your neck, ignoring the consequences. "You’re mine," he growls, holding you tightly as your transformation begins.

6. Sunoo 🩸 | The One Who Hesitates

Tears well in Sunoo’s eyes as he clutches you. "You'd hate me for this," he whispers, shaking his head. He doesn’t want to take away your humanity, your warmth, your light. But as your breathing grows shallow, he realizes there’s no choice. "I'm sorry," he murmurs before his fangs pierce your skin, his own tears mixing with your blood.

7. Ni-ki 🩸 | The One Who Loses Control

Ni-ki isn't thinking—his mind is blank except for one thought: save you. He acts on instinct, his fangs sinking into your neck before he even registers what he's done. The moment he feels your body jolt in his arms, he exhales shakily. "You scared the hell out of me," he mutters, pressing his forehead to yours. "You're not leaving me. Ever."

Which reaction do you love the most? Would you accept becoming a vampire for them?

[theothernads]

• ── ❛❛ 𝐅𝐀𝐂𝐈𝐋𝐈𝐓𝐘 𝟎𝟎𝟕 ❞ .𖥔 ݁ ˖ ⋆

─────────────────────────────────

.𖥔 ݁ ˖ ִֶָ࣪☾. 𝐒𝐘𝐍𝐎𝐏𝐒𝐈𝐒: In a world where vampires exist, the city of Seoul is not safe. With the most notorious in the Facility 007, everyone thought that the city would be kept at bay with murders being stopped and for terror to stop haunting everyone in the night. That's what you thought when they were captured and stopped the vampirism from spreading by biting normal humans. However, you made a mistake in assuming that these seven would give up, and you underestimated their desire for power and control when you were invited for an internship to said Facility 007. It should have been easy enough. But one myth and night changed everything, and now, you have to figure out how to play your cards right if you want to take them down.

── ִֶָ࣪☾. 𝐏𝐀𝐈𝐑𝐈𝐍𝐆: vampire!Enha×f!reader. ❀ .⭒ֶָ֢⋆.

── ִֶָ࣪☾. 𝐖𝐀𝐑𝐍𝐈𝐍𝐆𝐒: biting, violence, chainsaws, blood, fighting, lots of death, Enha are MEAN ASFAWK, handcuffs, vampires (duh), needles, and violence <3

╰┈➤ don't proceed if you don't like that.

ִֶָ࣪☾. 𝐖𝐎𝐑𝐃 𝐂𝐎𝐔𝐍𝐓: 20.6k ☰ ִֶָ࣪☾. 𝐃𝐑𝐄𝐀𝐌 𝐋𝐈𝐁𝐑𝐀𝐑𝐘: ᶻ 𝗓 𐰁 .ᐟ

— ִֶָ࣪☾. [𝐍𝐎𝐓𝐄𝐒]: okay. So. I have returned with the fic!! It took a while to edit and I'm not even that satisfied with the outcome BUT, I know people are waiting so, I decided to just put it out and let yall judge! I... um. Yeah. I did enjoy writing this one actually. I have a new idea for a Hoon fic but MAFIA. BUT NOT THE CRINGEY KIND 😭. Anyway, hope you enjoy. And yes, the word count did go up somehow💀. Anyway, pls let me know how you like it/dont like it.

.𖥔 ݁ ˖ REBLOGS, LIKES+ COMMENTS are appreciated<3

━━━━━━━━━━━━━˚₊‧꒰ა ♡ ໒꒱‧₊˚━━━━━━━━━━━━━

FACILITY 007.

The most highly guarded prison to accommodate the most notorious vampires to ever roam the streets. Each prison was made with soundproof walls, ropes at the ready, and a seat built into the plain walls, reminding prisoners of their inevitable sentence.

These vampires made the news within hours; their trademark were black masks that covered the cheeks and nose with narrow gaps where the teeth would be of a horrid creature. 

Each of their kills were brutal and malicious, with people drowning in their own blood, limbs left at awkward angles, and sometimes, the bodies were too unrecognisable to even have an autopsy performed. And for any of it to go on the news. 

The hunt for them was hasty—they were picked up on the CCTV in town when it all happened, and the police were already staged there. In all honesty, you expected more precision and flair in their crooked plans, but you had been proven wrong when leather cuffs were latched onto their wrists as Seoul's personal mark of retaliation.

They scared you, of course. But, for your mother, it was a light at the end of the tunnel for her research. Instead of killing those vampires (which you strongly insisted on), the authorities handed them over to this research facility, all locked up, studied, and examined down to the T. They were homed in the West Wing, whilst you and your mother stayed at the East Wing, where the labs were situated.

Now, where do you come in?

You hated those no-good vampires, and there was absolutely nothing to persuade you to ever go near one…

Except.

Except your mother offering  an insightful internship at her facility to gain experience since you were in the final year of your biomedical course. There were perks that came with having a crazy scientist as your mother. And, you accepted it with a single breath.

It was a little hypocritical when you agreed to it, but experience was a dream that barely came by commonly.

What you didn't accept is the part where you had to go to the West Wing and administer drugs directly to said vampires. The drugs, as much as you know, suppressed their strength or any traces of vampirism that lived in their bodies. It made it easier to handle their abilities where the Facility only had humans working.

Your mother already had an excuse precisely stitched.

"If you ever want to study something, you cannot be standing away from the microscope,” she had said to you over a bland tomato sandwich. 

“You can if you have other colleagues,” you had argued back to her, making her narrow her gaze with that authoritative, motherly fire.

“Then you will never understand your specimen. Nor become a real scientist.”

Which leads to now.

It was a gloomy day in Seoul, the temperature enough to induce a shiver up your spine, but not enough to convince you to wear a coat. The West Wing was a maze—a cream and monotone maze that only had emergency buttons every few metres. Your footsteps echoed and broke through the icy air lingering in the air. But, the loudest thing was your heartbeat. It beat the silence.

The thick drum of each beat sent you breathless; you wouldn't be surprised if the vampires saw you coming from the way your heart was practically singing to them. 

You clutched the thick, brown file to your chest as you entered the elevator, swallowing down the apprehension that came with your first official job without your mother.

Another ding, and the elevator soared up, adding to your nausea.

It's fine. You were fine and you would ace this task even if you weren't being graded. Just go in, administer the drugs, get out, and then repeat about seven times. Then, you could sprint out of there.

Easy.

The grey doors opened revealing the long hallway and the double doors at the end, two guards stood with thick, black guns and a face of certain security. Violence wasn't your thing, but seeing guns in the arms of (hopefully) capable guards eased the anxiety stinging up your spine.

When you walked up to them, you fished out the lanyard beneath your white lab coat and beamed a polite smile at them. “Intern Song Y/n here.”

The one on the right glanced and the one on the left pressed a secret button at his waist. The buzz of the doors rang through your ears, and you pushed through with another tide of silence. It was even creepier here.

It wasn't dark—no—it was even brighter here, cream walls lined with the normal emergency buttons, and there were only two single doors opposite each other, locked and with keypads. The silence waited and lingered over you, but was knotted with something tense and anticipating.

Okay, right or left? It didn't really matter when each door had a monster strapped behind them and could easily strip you of your blood. You opened the file and saw the first name. 

Lee Heeseung—the oldest of the lot, observant and critical, but insanely quiet. He was restrained with a single rope around his torso, leather cuffs around his arms, and a single chain around his ankle. 

Great, you were practically meeting the ghost of the group. You always thought to yourself that having chains was better for the arms, but apparently they could use those as weapons. You had to agree. They were monsters but it didn't mean said creatures couldn't be resourceful.

To the left you went. After showing the guard your ID, you popped in the code and entered the lab. The chill breathed down your body, the hum of the equipment thrumming steadily over the metal table and counters. The door slammed shut behind and you flinched.

“Fuck these stupid doors,” you said to no one but yourself. Hastily putting the file down on the middle table, you caught sight of the blinds over a large plane of glass where light peeked in from behind it. Without hesitation, you sauntred to the blinds and pulled, the secrecy lifting to reveal what was behind.

You almost jumped once more when you spotted the lone figure sitting with a hung head, black locks falling over his eyes, totally still as if time didn't affect him. The ropes around his torso and the metal chain around his ankle told you that you had met the older vampire.

Lee Heeseung. 

You don't know what you were expecting but this creature was much more depressed than you anticipated. Of course, no one likes being trapped in a windowless room, but you thought he would have his red eyes on you already. Or maybe he's asleep? You can't blame him.

Your thoughts were broken when a door slammed behind you and another heartbeat joined yours with careful footsteps.

You whipped your head around, prepared to hit the intruder with your fists, but relaxed when you saw a familiar male.

“Taehyun, gosh, you scared me,” you said in exasperation. The male walked over with his brown, floppy hair, white lab coat and a small smile of satisfaction.

“Mission successful.” he nudged you in the arm once close enough. In return, you nudged him back and breathed, glad that it was your fellow friend rather than a stranger with fangs.

“What you doing here?” you asked, walking away from the window. Taehyun glanced over his shoulder before joining you with a playful smirk.

“Supervising. It's your first time administering the suppressants, right?” He grinned.

“Yeah. And your smile is not helping,” you said, observing him and his smile. As if he knew something you didn't, and he probably did since he has always been in the West Wing ever since you started your work here. You want to be like him, to fearlessly exit the elevator without a speck of apprehension. To be confident, really.

Taehyun leaned on the table in front with his elbows before noticing the anxiety soiling all the fun that came with being a scientist. “You're nervous.”

“Great observation, Terry.” you muttered before he laughed again.

“Look, it is simple. Heeseung, from what I know, doesn't really speak to me, and he is tied up the most among them,” he said, looking at the table as if was going through a mental walk-through of it. 

Simple. That's what you told yourself all of last night, but you underestimated the anchor of your anxiety. It was much heavier and it completely left your skills stranded in the middle of what felt like a vast ocean. And you didn't know how to lift it with your bare hands. You sighed and cleared the sweat on your palms by wiping it on the sides of your coat. Taehyun chuckled under his breath, and you glared daggers into him.

“Shut up, will you? Not everyone is experienced.”

“Just go in,” Taehyun said as he straightened himself before you. Then, his eyes drifted over your shoulder and tensed somewhat. “Hey, he's expecting you anyway.”

When he said that, your heartbeat spiked so hard, but not as hard as your head snapping to the glass behind you. 

Heeseung was awake, and those dark eyes behind his locks still managed to cut right into your gaze and chop it into ten pieces. There was a permanent frown on his lips, skin glittering under the fluorescent lights, fists curled between his lap. But even as you dared to stare, you couldn't miss the intrigue bleeding into his gaze, then consuming him fully as he lifted his chin with a slow precision. 

You swallowed hard, feeling as if your whole body had clicked into a safety lock just by simply being visible through the glass. And still, he stared.

“See, I told you he is expecting you!” Taehyun patted your back, jolting you out of that tense state and making you huff.

ﮩ٨ـﮩﮩ٨ـ♡ﮩ٨ـﮩﮩ٨ـ

“Okay, so, go in and administer the drug first. Then, the blood drink should be fed to him through the straw. He is not like the others, since he keeps his fangs to himself.”

“Keeps his fangs to himself?!” you exclaimed incredulously as Taehyun led you to the door with a steady hand on your back. You currently held a blood bag with a plastic opening that could pass as a straw, and a syringe with a safety cap over the needle.

Taehyun nodded as if it was a normal breakfast routine, grinning down at you. That didn't help in the slightest but it was too late because you were in front of the sliding door already.

“Do the others bite?” you inquired once more, trying very hard to stall. He caught on and sighed as he crossed his arms with mirth. The genuine worry sparkled in your gaze. To keep your confidence up, he gripped your shoulders firmly. 

“Don't think about it. I'll tell you the answer after you do this.”

Damn, a stupid bargain. With a huff, you faced the door, breathed once for the anxiety to dissipate as if it was as light as dust being carried away by the breeze.

The door slid open and you entered, closing it behind you before registering the utter silence in here. There was no equipment in here, so no hum, and it sounded as if Heeseung didn't breathe. So, it was just you.

The room was a plain grey and you faced Heeseung with the most tense shoulders known in mankind, all the advice that was given flying out your body. 

His eyes never left you, head slightly turned with attention. Your files were right: he was insanely observant. He's probably judging how fast your heart was skipping its scheduled beats.

Whatever, you don't have all day. You have six more vampires to take care of after him. 

With an inhale, you stepped forward a few steps until you stood before him, the syringe at the ready. You didn't know if you should introduce yourself. 

Did Taehyun introduce himself? Does he know you're different?

All those questions flooded your brain as you screwed the cap off, facing the criminal before you. This time, his chin was lifted more, staring shamelessly. You swallowed again before digging for a small plastic packet with a wipe.

“You're different.” his voice made your shoulders jump again, but you nodded once, stoic.

“Thanks?”

“Not Technician Kang,” he reiterated again. You nodded again once, gesturing for him to tilt his head. Heeseung blinked once, the attention sharpening and slicing your skin, but he did as you asked, exposing the right side of his neck.

“I am not Technician Kang, you're right.” you wiped the side of his cold neck before bringing the needle to his skin and letting the sharpness sink deep in.

Heeseung didn't react much, but his jaw clenched, as if this routine was nonsensical—annoyed. When the drug flowed into him, his veins splayed out like a map, black, winding up his neck and disappearing under his black shirt, and he shifted, rolling his neck.

You took the syringe and tossed it into the green waste bag tied to your lab coat. Next, the blood bag in the large pocket of yours. This was going perfectly. Minimal speaking and you were nearly done.

What a success.

“But you know who I am, right?”

Damn it, you thought too soon. 

“Who doesn't?” you replied, trying to ignore the slight tremble as you opened the small straw to the blood bag. Heeseung narrowed his gaze but the smell of blood hit him, and he scowled when you brought it closer. Confused, you held it away slightly.

“Something wrong?” you asked. Heeseung's gaze pinned right into the blood bag, as if that was the next annoying thing.

“You still insist on feeding us those… animal leftovers,” he muttered with disgust. You looked to the label and saw it was cow blood that he was straying away from. Gosh, he was picky about blood? You hid the awkwardness down below and sighed.

“Well, if you don't want to drink it, you won't get anything else,” you explained, but you were so sure he knew that already. Heesseung sighed deeply through his nose, the frown deepening before he lifted his chin in defeated acceptance. With that, you led straw to his chapped lips.

The blood rushed through the straws, the bag emptying with alarming speed to satiate his hunger. 

You could guess the facility kept them on the cliff of starvation. Not enough to send them insane out of hunger. It was a little cruel but in your head, it was compensation for all those crime scenes decorated with blood and organs that should never see the light of day.

You put the empty bag in the green disposal bag once done and stepped back with your anxiety shifting away a little. It wasn't as bad as it seemed.

Heeseung stared again, licking his bottom lip, savouring whatever would last him until next time. You just gave a tight smile, then regretted it, and quickly walked away, out the sliding doors with the burn of his gaze etched into your back.

ﮩ٨ـﮩﮩ٨ـ♡ﮩ٨ـﮩﮩ٨ـ

The next Vampire afterwards was Nishimura Riki, who existed just opposite Heeseung. 

Taehyun let you in, already having the blood bag and suppressant drug at the ready on the table. This was kind of the last thing on your mind, and you swiftly turned to him.

“So, do the others bite?” You asked again, remembering the bargain he made. Taehyun huffed but there was no sign of avoidance either. 

“Well, from what I know, Jake seems to have inhibition problems. Sunoo, too. Jay, Jungwon, and Sunghoon seem a bit more… controlled, but you never know,” he explained with a shrug. 

You don't understand how he is so chill about it. Just the thought of one of them biting you was enough to send a storm to stir in the very cavern that was your mind and thoughts. All conflicting thoughts flashed past each other until it felt as if they were on the verge of striking your brain with lightning. 

You shook your head slightly to jostle your head right before snagging the blood bag and syringe into your pocket. “Doesn't really help, Terry.”

A humoured laugh escaped him as he walked over to the similar blinds from the other room and pulled it with one, firm tug.

The curtain lifted to reveal another figure with jet black hair falling over his eyes, sharp eyes already finding yours to make you breathless, and elaborate knots tied around both hands. The additional ankle chain was easy to spot, too. The bindings shouldn't have given you so much composure, but how could you stop yourself when the anxiety sunk a hole in your chest.

“So, you ready?” He asked from behind you. Instead of giving an answer, your mind clutched at any information regarding Riki. 

You know he was the youngest of the lot, but he easily could go from zero to a hundred. It was go big or go home for the youngest vampire, exceeding all boundaries of peace to pursue any shadow of violence and make it his own. Sarcastic and mischievous, too.

“I think so. He's not a biter so…”

“I don't know. Riki is a little unpredictable,” Taehyun added with contemplation. You sighed and waited for Taehyun to lead the way to the sliding door. Once before it, you forced the composure to calm the storm. They could probably sense your emotions, the little jumps in your fear, and if they could wield that, you wouldn't be helping yourself.

Determined, you slipped into the room and welcomed the ultra silence this time before shutting the door.

Riki's feline gaze followed you with every step you took closer, scanning, and then a cruel smirk graced his lips. You don't know what's so funny—you preferred it if he was depressed and acted like a normal, contained prisoner.

“New heartbeat, I knew it,” he purred quietly as you got another sanitising wipe, ignoring the fact you knew he could probably pick it up.

“Congrats. You guessed right,” you said with a tight tone of no-nonsense. Riki slumped his shoulders, smirking as if it was a funny situation he found himself in.

“Could hear it for a while. Let me guess,” he said with a bored tone as you got the wipe out. “You visited Heeseung hyung.”

Strange. He knew who else was on the floor with him. You thought that your mother never told them of their locations, keeping only two on each floor. The thoughts sparked and stung your nerves, making you stiffen slightly in caution.

Riki smiled again, empty and sinister.

“I'm guessing yes.”

Not answering his correct assumption, you went to wipe the left side of his neck when he blanched back, making you halt, annoyance igniting your chest. Riki simply turned his face to the left, exposing his right side.

“This side please,” he demanded quietly but you could tell he was amused. 

You didn't sigh nor huff, and you swiped the wipe in the correct area before doing the same as before, and sinking the needle into his flesh to release the drug.

Riki grunted softly as black veins appeared out of the blue, revealing its path over his neck, travelling underneath his skin. He released a breath, leaning back.

Next part—feeding him through the straw, to which he obliged much quicker than his elder brother. He didn't even take a break and departed with a sigh, collecting the last of it with a lick of his lips.

“I see you're not picky with blood,” you mumbled, disposing of the used bag. Riki scowled.

“Well, I don't want to die, do I? It still tastes cheap and flavourless,” he grumbled, meeting your gaze from where he sat, that same intrigue consuming his dark eyes, and forcing you to move away.

“Fair point.” You nodded before heading to the sliding door that was the exit. Before you fully left, Riki straightened himself, that same interest curling around his sharp gaze and cutting into your thoughts.

“You might want to control that heartbeat. The others might want to take it right out that pretty body of yours.”

You left much quicker that time, and even slammed the door shut before even thinking to release a breath.

ﮩ٨ـﮩﮩ٨ـ♡ﮩ٨ـﮩﮩ٨ـ

“See, that wasn't so bad.”

“Taehyun, he said the others would rip my heart out,” you reiterated with a slightly pitchy tone, brows furrowed in worry. 

Taehyun chuckled again for the hundredth time in your distress. Currently, you and him were on your way to the second floor, where the next two vampires were situated and locked away. The files were stuck to your chest, holding them as if you were being watched.

“I told you he's unpredictable. I also wouldn't believe a word he says,” he replied as he stepped out the elevator, greeting the similar sight of two guards arming the double doors leading deeper into the facility. With no choice, you tagged along behind him.

You don't want to believe anything these vampires say, but they're cunning and deceitful. Telling a lie and truth was probably as easy as breathing, their perception of it blurry in the lines. 

They probably don't care about the differences if it means gaining something out of it. Like blood, you think. Which meant being confident and rigid with your instructions was the most important thing right now. You weren't the one locked away in a box of a room with your thoughts being the only other companion. Control was something you had if you knew how to use your own strengths.

Once identified, you and Taehyun sauntered deeper in until having to make the same decision of left or right.

“So, which one first?” He asked, turning back to you. 

Well, you flipped open the file to the table marked ‘2nd’ and scanned down the page. If you go right, you would meet with Park Jongseong—another silent creature, but well-spoken with a tipping temper that could go one-eighty within a second.

If you go left, Kim Sunoo would be waiting for you—his bloodlust knew no end, usually impulsive and seemed proud of his tendencies. Danger at every corner, really.

“Let's go right."

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Just like normal, the lab was chilled, silent with the hum of machines in the background and the grey blinds pulled at where the huge, glass window was. Taehyun went to the fridge whilst you pulled the blinds.

With a tug, you lifted the barrier to reveal a sitting figure, again with jet black hair, a leg crossed over one another with a single ankle chain, and his hands were bound on his lap. He leaned back against the wall, head slightly tilted as if time had started to remind him of his long isolation here.

Even then, you saw the sharp gaze through the strands of his hair, and the curiosity simmering with a careful heat, as if waiting for the right moment.

You forced your eyes away and Taehyun came with the blood bag, syringe, and a comforting smile.

“You ready?”

“As ever.”

Once again, you slipped into the quiet room, everything still except your steady heartbeat. You purposely kept the beats under a limit, not wanting these vampires to dig their mockery into anything you may not be able control.

Jay was like Heeseung: his head was slightly turned and stayed fixated as you walked closer. You dug out the sanitary wipe as he dragged his eyes over your features.

“Another round of drugs,” he stated, something hard weighing his tone. You didn't feel bad, and just nodded. Jay rolled his eyes underneath his bangs and let you clean the side of his neck curtly before sinking in the syringe.

As before, black veins travelled up underneath his skin, the black liquid illuminating his veins to you. He hissed and snapped his gaze to you.

“When will you stop giving those… drugs?” He muttered, fighting through the discomfort. You paused, not really having an answer because you're simply an intern.

“I'm just an intern helping out,” you finally said, and a twinkle of realisation swept over his gaze. Okay, maybe you shouldn't have revealed that. But what would he do with said information? It's not like he can spread his epiphany to anyone beyond the prison.

“So, you're new?” Jay said with a slight scoff. 

“I am.” You agreed, getting the blood bag and nearing the open straw near his lips, but within a second, his bound hands snapped to your wrist, and you nearly jumped.

The storm in your head struck your heart, the beats now unstable and harsh, knocking the wind out of you as you attempted to tug your arm back. Jay curled his fingers tighter.

He smiled ever so slightly, letting his nose dip to the pulse beneath your wrist, as if he was listening to the apprehension crawling back up your nerves and screaming out to him.

“Jongseong—”

“Smells better than that… bag of disappointment,” he cut you off, dragging his nose further up your wrist. You swallowed hard, nearly squeezing the blood bag and spilling the contents. The voice in your head tried to ice the anxiety and panic, settling it back down.

“Too… bad,” you mumbled before snapping your hand away and he faltered for a second, something hardening in his eyes. Without waiting, you held the straw to his closed lips.

Jay contemplated, eyes stuck to your fingers, but he relented, shoulders slumping as he parted his lips. It was as if he stalled enough for you to glimpse the sharp fangs glinting under the light before he took the straw in, a silent threat clear enough to warn you of what he truly was. Staying motionless, you let him finish the bag and he departed with a click in his jaw. 

Though, he didn't speak again. He only analysed over the relief cooling your features, the way your anxiety didn't quite sink away with your blood. It remained in the edges of your heartbeat, enough to speak to him.

When you disposed of the bag, you left without a word and with his gaze clawed in your back.

You need to wear gloves.

ﮩ٨ـﮩﮩ٨ـ♡ﮩ٨ـﮩﮩ٨ـ

Kim Sunoo was awake. Too awake for your liking. There was no clock within the rooms, but he didn't need one. It was as if every tick of a second was taken account of all in his head.

You bit your bottom lip, chewing it in contemplation as you stared through the glass where Sunoo sat, this time with hands bound behind him, a single chain coiled around his ankle. His black hair rained over his eyes, and he smiled when he saw you scan him over.

It wasn't the friendly smile, of course, but knowing, insane. As if he had you all figured out, but he was building up a wall of his own defenses in place.

Taehyun returned with a blood bag and syringe, placing it in your pocket without asking. “You good?”

You hummed in agreement, nodding. “All of these guys love to stare.”

“They're not normal, remember? And you're new, so its natural,” he explained, guiding you to the sliding door and putting in the code. Made sense, but it didn't do anything to ease the bewilderment clouding your lungs with thick clouds.

Your breath came out with a small quiver.

With a slide of the door, you were in, and was consumed by his hum. Brief hum. The first of the lot. You glanced over and brushed the hair away from your eyes before approaching like before. 

“Gosh, not that blood bag again? I would love for something richer,” Sunoo began as you stood before him. When you gave no reply, his jaw tightened, but his smile widened as you ripped the sanitary wipe open. As long as you willed things to go your way, then it will be okay.

Except, the universe hated you and wanted to shit on your smooth-ish day.

Just as you were to make contact with the side of his neck, Sunoo stood with an audible sigh of relief. You jumped back, faltering in disbelief.

He shook each leg as if they were cramped and bolted with tension, and then rolled his shoulders within limit. 

The exasperation crawled back into your heart and swelled there, and Sunoo noticed it with the perk of his head. 

“I'm sorry, but being bound makes one… squirm,” he said cheekily. You certainly didn't appreciate it, but you honestly were too busy remembering if Sunoo was a biter or the restrained one. You stood awkwardly with the wipe, eager to get it over and done with.

“Fair enough,” you muttered, sending Sunoo to grin and his pupils to dilate ever so slightly.

“I am glad you understand. But alas, you are here to drug me again, no?” 

You resisted the urge to roll your eyes and nodded with a tiny, tight smile, keeping up with the courtesy. Sunoo's smile remained as he heard the pulse of your heart skip again. To your dismay, he simply leaned down, exposing his neck with the tilt of his head, expecting you to be jolly with it.

You weren't. Obviously. He was taller but you had to make due with what he had, even if you wanted to protest.

Swiftly doing the same job of cleaning, injecting, and disposing, you retrieved the blood bag, popping open the straw as Sunoo sat down with resignation, something hardening to stone beneath his mischief.

There were no complaints as he drank the blood, and your muscles grew antsy, hands faltering a little making the straw jostle. Sunoo bit into the straw before licking his lips of whatever was left, examining the way your eyes strayed to the sliding door. He grinned.

“You can leave now,” he taunted under his breath, but you heard it and disposed of the bag with teeth grit.

“Yes. Thanks for the cooperation,” you curtly replied. 

“Enjoy it whilst it lasts,” he whispered as you left through the doors, the buzz indicating the lock jolting into place.

ﮩ٨ـﮩﮩ٨ـ♡ﮩ٨ـﮩﮩ٨ـ

“How many more, Terry?” You groaned, bumping your head with the file repeatedly. The elevator moved up steadily as Taehyun pressed the third floor with familiarity. But at your sulky tone, he laughed.

“Three more. I'm surprised you started complaining this late.” He mused.

“I've been complaining the whole time.”

“Well, you better hold it because the last dude is on the fourth floor, completely alone,” he explained. The elevator doors opened with a ding and you followed with questions breaking past the dam that was supposed to be your calm. You rushed to his pace.

“Alone? Why is he the only one up there?” You inquired, already flipping through your file.

“The higher we go, the more caution we need. The last dude is probably written in your notes somewhere. Forgot his name,” Taehyun said as he flashed his ID to the guards. You did the same before entering the deeper hallway, the cream corridor decorated with two main doors. Taehyun sighed and stretched his arms upwards.

“Left or right?”

Good question. You flipped your file to the ‘3rd’ tab, and then read down the page hastily.

On your right was Sim Jaeyun—quiet and calculating, someone who was like the dark horse. Only existing in the shadows but a plan crafted by him meant perfect execution and skill.

On your right was Park Sunghoon—a no-bullshit vampire, even more calculating and a violence that he hid all too well, knowing he craved dominion over his actions.

Again, no good way.

“Left it is.” You sighed.

ﮩ٨ـﮩﮩ٨ـ♡ﮩ٨ـﮩﮩ٨ـ

The blinds were pulled as if on instinct and there he was sat, leather cuffs bound around his wrists and the standard chain around his ankle. Of course, he didn't stare immediately, but you thought you saw his head slightly itch, as if he heard something new. Something new to prey on.

“Okay, you know the drill. I should just leave you alone.” Taehyun placed the bag and syringe into your large lab coat pocket. 

“Don't you dare,” you shot back at him before guiding yourself over to the sliding door.

Taehyun did a fake salute before you went in, and the door slid shut behind you as always. The silence didn't shock you as much, but you still expected to hear at least one of them breathing a little loudly.

But no. Their breaths were all timed, in sync, and connected. 

The stranger thing with Sunghoon was that he didn't speak. Not as you wiped his neck, not when you injected the drug, not when you let him feed off the animal blood. It was incredibly unnerving, and the lack of words or comments sent your stomach tightening in discomfort. It ate at your nerves.

When you were done, his gaze ran over your figure once before he looked down again, but you knew his ears were alert, keeping note of your heartbeat.

Even Taehyun was surprised as you and him left Sunghoon's suite. He blinked rapidly.

“Man, he was easy.”

“I would rather he talked. The whole time, I felt like he was going to rip my arteries out,” you countered. Taehyun smiled nervously as he punched in the code to Jake's lab suite.

“That would be interesting for me, you know?”

“Shut up, Terry!”

As routine, Taehyun went to retrieve the blood bag and syringe whilst you lifted the blinds to reveal a dejected Jake. 

With his fringe containing his gaze, he kept a neutral expression with his hands also bound by the same leather cuffs, and a single chain to his ankle. Though, his body was ridden with tension and expectation despite the stillness sweeping over him. 

“Okay, nearly done. You're doing great,” Taehyun said. Agreeing with a hum, you went in without a word, and you walked up to him with no hesitation this time. Jake glanced. You froze.

Cold and dead. That is what came to your mind first when Jake's gaze flickered to you, and it had the same ability to dissect your skin and trigger every goosebump.

With a second to gather yourself, you got the syringe and twisted the cap off. Jake shifted.

“What a pretty heartbeat,” he murmured as if he was in a trance. Oh gosh, maybe vampire Riki was right about one of them just seizing your heart. You just gave a look before wiping his neck, burying your tremble.

“Fresh. So fresh,” he whispered again, and you prepared the syringe, wishing you could just pause your heartbeat so they would stop pointing it out.

With no reply, Jake let the corner of his lips tilt up. “And you know it.”

Your hand nearly shuddered but you forced yourself to sink in the needle a little more harshly than intended. Jake grunted loudly, almost recoiling, but with your hasty actions, the drug emptied out into his system, the black veins appearing in a simultaneous flow up his neck.

You would apologise, but your throat was sewn shut, and you grasped the blood bag wordlessly, holding it to his lips. Disbelief and repulsion became stone in his eyes, but he drank, fangs flashing as he closed his lips around the straw.

His words, admittedly, did bother you. They were so targeted, well-thought, and now you knew that Jake constructed his words just as well in the deeper shadows of his mind. Not too slow, not too fast. Just enough to rattle whatever foundation your confidence was set on. He was made to break those pillars holding you together.

The blood was finished and Jake sat back, fists resting on his thighs. He smirked again as you stood straight, maintaining distance.

“Gosh, I would prefer your pulse on my lips instead,” he said as if it was a confession meant to please you.

It did the opposite and you had no strength to even reply because you headed for the door with another gaze marking your back.

And you left.

ﮩ٨ـﮩﮩ٨ـ♡ﮩ٨ـﮩﮩ٨ـ

Taehyun led you to the fourth floor, this one being brighter and guarded with three men instead of the usual two. You mentally counted this vampire to be the last.

“More guards?” You stated as the men let you into the bright corridor. Taehyun hummed in agreement, hands in pockets.

“We had to. According to what I heard, this dude's bloodlust is on another level. But… he's weirdly talkative,” he replied as he took you to the door, punched in a code and entered with you close behind.

This time, you flipped the file open to the last page and read through with urgency.

Finally, Yang Jungwon. The last vampire and supposedly the leader, the one seen always at the crime scene with a cunning smile and a skill built for hunting blood. He was intelligent, twisting, but it seemed that he didn't work well enough now that he was caught and locked away..

As Taehyun did the normal, you went to the blinds and pulled them up. As soon as you did, a figure stood right at the glass, tall, arms crossed over slightly as leather bounds coiled his wrists, the chain at his ankle, and his blonde hair barely concealing the dark eyes simmering with something intense. You yelped when you were forced to face him, and he smirked as he swept his eyes over the alarm tightening every muscle. Your pulse raced.

So much so for keeping control over it.

Taehyun, on hearing your startled sound, came and sighed when he observed how Jungwon was standing, waiting. He was ready to scare you, and you let him.

Embarrassed, you gulped hard and took the blood bag and syringe from Taehyun. Wordlessly, he led you to the sliding door. Before you went in, he held your arm gently.

“Careful. Keep calm,” he whispered. It was oddly strange to hear his seriousness, but you nodded and slipped into the prison room, exhaling.

Silence didn't greet you this time. It was broken by Jungwon making a hum sound, feet padding along the floor.

“Your heart practically jumped out your chest,” he mused, grinning only slightly to no one but himself. You swallowed hard, trying to keep all corners of your composure together. If you didn't get a hold of yourself, he would just hold it over your head.

Taking a few steps in, you observed him circling once, and then back before he stopped and stared more intensely than the moment at the glass.

Your features burned and tingled as he took in each inch of you.

“You're… new. Familiar, but new,” he muttered, mentally noting it as he stepped closer. You didn't move.

You're doing your own analysing.

“I'm an intern,” you replied quietly. Jungwon parted his lips in realisation, an epiphany that dawned on him like moonlight. He tilted his head in fascination.

“Right, right. Your impatience resembles another scientist here. Hm, and the same eyes, same type of scent,” he muttered again, walking himself through some thoughts that you unfortunately couldn't pinpoint.

Then, he turned again. “Your mother is the senior scientist here. Oh, I mean… researcher.”

You didn't expect him to guess so quickly or to even pay so much attention to your mother, or you. At your silence, he clapped once, mocking.

“I'm right. Yes, of course. Your mother decided to drug and feed us like experiments. Makes me wonder what she will do next…” he walked closer to you, and you didn't move back despite his brooding height.

“Maybe, she will keep us, take our blood, keep our blood, and well… research our DNA, maybe try to locate the exact origin of our… monstrosity.” He smiled again with something slow and precise. As if he was about to pounce. “But, let me tell you something, Intern Song.”

Jungwon strode to you so quickly that you almost jumped back, but the tension locked you in place. He leaned down slightly, tilting his head as excitement sparked alive in his gaze. It easily melted whatever assurance you scraped together. How annoying.

“We don't… just own this monstrosity. It is not… simply carried in our genes. No…” 

He let his face close in around your neck, and you turned away slightly, clenching your fists.

“We embody this, we own this monstrosity. We are it.” He breathed, and then closed his eyes when he inhaled your scent and senses the pulse jumping in your neck.

“So, tell your mother… to quit her prying.”

Finally, you broke away and stepped back and relaxed only a fraction since his chain limited him. Then, you glared.

“We are only taking your blood and keeping you here because we need to reverse your effects on those you have bitten.” You gripped the sides of your lab coat.

He didn't look surprised, but more pleased. As if he found what he was looking for and he was spot on. And now, you were humiliated that you let him get to you.

“I see.” He simply shrugged and walked back to the bench built into the wall. That was your sign to get this over and done with. Determined, you stepped towards him and retrieved the syringe hastily, and he watched with a callous gaze, analysing again as if he was building some mental profile of you. You wished so deeply to punch him, but you simply wiped the area on his neck and injected him with the suppressant drug. 

Like the others, black lines travelled through his veins, decorating his skin, and Jungwon silently endured it, shutting his eyes briefly before they fluttered open again, silence gripping his muscles suffocating them.

Wordlessly, you got the blood bag's straw open and nudged it towards his lips, but he took his time to glance down, stare at your fingers and wrist, before taking the blood.

He drank slowly, you noted. Much slower than the others, as if he enjoyed this type of blood. He didn't exude the same disgust like the others. You could tell he was thinking, though. Scheming away and it was all locked away in the dark place of his mind.

When he finished and you were busy disposing of it, Jungwon straightened his back, letting his eyes strayed to your neck, your collarbone slightly hidden beneath the lab coat, and then to where your heart resided. Slightly hasty, but soft. You were annoyed.

“You know, Intern Song, you can't cage monsters for long,” he began saying, letting his head tilt. That same anchor of unease hit you in the middle of the chest as your gaze returned to him.

He smiled, leaning forward but his chin flitted up to you with something hidden and proud. “Because we all have to face them at some point. They always manage to… sneak past every type of defense at the most unexpected times.”

You ripped your attention away from him and walked to the sliding door to hear his voice suddenly right behind you. Whipping your head around, Jungwon already loomed over you, ropes straining against his wrists, the chain to his ankle taut as his gaze hardened.

When did he even move? Even the chains were silent in his presence. A shudder consumed your heartbeat.

“Goodbye… until next time, of course,” he murmured, muscles almost twitching to get closer and break the restraints’ boundaries.

Each breath got caught in your chest, and you rushed out his cell, locking him in behind you. Even then, another gaze was burned into your back, adding to the six others that had already marked you.

ﮩ٨ـﮩﮩ٨ـ♡ﮩ٨ـﮩﮩ٨ـ

The next day was busy as always. With autumn nigh and here, more and more younger students were chosen to tour the facility, specifically the East Wing for the laboratory research held there.

The West was undoubtedly too risky to explore, especially with criminals residing within them. You wouldn't wish the experience on anyone; the vampires’ silent schemes were hidden yet their aura echoed and sunk into your bones, making it hard to forget.

With the clouds latched onto the city of Seoul, you walked with Soobin, another gentleman like Taehyun, to where the reception would be. Before the small tour, you read some facts and data on the place, preparing yourself for any questions related to your own experience here.

“How many students?” You asked him as he pushed up the bridge of his glasses. 

“Well, five of them were chosen. Smaller means more containment,” he said with a small smile. Which was true. It kept your own sanity strung in place if anything happened. God forbid, it did.

When arriving at the main area, you and Soobin introduced yourselves before setting off with the students. Three girls and two boys with pens and notebooks in hand, and with a visitor ID hanging around their necks.

First, it was showing them the labs, without going inside. Soobin took the lead, explaining how they tested and repeated the routine all in order to figure out how certain cells would react with chemicals.

Then, you took the lead of explaining how the facility was strict with their routines, keeping the environment locked away from contamination and such.

It was pretty simple until a student raised his hand nervously. Soobin, delighted, smiled and let him speak.

“Um… can't you show us something different? It's also where the vampires are kept, too, right?” He said, spreading his hope to the other students who also straightened their postures in expectation. 

You gave Soobin a panicked side-eye, and he returned it with equal measure before blinking back at the students. He clamped his hands together, smiling sheepishly.

“Um… well, I can show you one room, but don't touch anything.”

The students nodded obediently and Soobin began to lead the way with you by his side. As much as your questions threatened to break out, you followed along until he reached a room and punched in the code, taking the students in.

It was a clean room, grey walls but what shocked you was the weapons encased in glass, sparkling under individual spotlights within the case, and the iconic black masks caged in another glass row.

There was a range of weapons—a metal hacksaw with sharp edges protruding on the frame, glittering with violence; a mace where the ball at the end of the chain had metal thorns jutting out the surface, almost making your skin crawl from the promised murder it could commit; a metal bat with barbed wire wrapped around the weapon itself, metal edges hanging off the frame.

It wasn't even the worst part because your eyes finally laid on the chainsaw, the metal shining under the spotlight, the stories and previous blood of victims almost ingrained under the surface.

You swallowed hard, but the students seemed to enjoy it, mumbling amongst themselves of how ‘insightful' it was. 

As much as you were also curious to know why these were here, you couldn't contain the unease clamped around your chest, weighing it down.

It didn't matter now because Soobin clapped his hands together and smiled at the students to bring their attention back.

“These weapons were used to commit the heinous murders by the vampires,” he began, walking along with you to the hacksaw. Underneath, the metal label had the number ‘07' engraved in it, like a knell that you mentally heard when you stared for too long.

“I heard of a myth,” a boy said behind you. “That there's a blood moon that they ready themselves for.”

That was new for you. Despite working here, you never bothered to dig deeper into the vampire and their lore, their past. Well, you never bothered because killers weren't worth your time and you didn't care. So, you found yourself glancing at the student with equal interest as the others.

When everyone turned to him, he smiled sheepishly.

“It's just some reading I did before coming here. I read that every two hundred years, these vampires get stronger in their abilities than last time.” He glanced around the group. You tensed.

“So, they were weak to begin with?” A girl asked with a slight scoff, as if she didn't believe that murderers could possess any type of weakness. 

“Well, I don't know exactly. It's all just theory. Well, it's believed their bloodlust grows stronger as well as their abilities.” He answered thoughtfully.

You tried to recall any type of information—one thing these vampires could do was release venom to turn normal people into a more unstable version of them. Not quite the same, but their sanity would loosen until it was hard to find the ends of it and tighten it all over again.

So, if their abilities included bloodlust, venom, and any other personal powers, it basically meant these creatures would be unstoppable if they reached a certain threshold.

And for these vampires, you have no idea how much strength they have preserved underneath their psychotic surfaces, but you honestly didn't want to dig past and see.

And for the patients in the private part of the East Wing, from what you know, they haven't completely turned. They were teetering on the edge, but the lab scientists were all trying to pull them back before they fall into vampirism. That was the whole goal for your mother. To find their fraying sanity and sew it together again.

Soobin, intrigued, hummed along and nodded. “I think I reason about it but honestly, I don't know if these vampires actually have that… ritual.”

“It would be useful to study,” another student said, and quite honestly, you had to somewhat agree and disagree.

Having them under the facility's roof was already dangerous enough—you didn't want to wait for an opportunity for them to power up and supposedly find a new path to wreak irreversible havoc.

ﮩ٨ـﮩﮩ٨ـ♡ﮩ٨ـﮩﮩ٨ـ

The whole week went by and gladly, you weren't asked to administer the drugs again. Your mother still thought it was a valuable lesson, but you kept some details to yourself. She seemed so chill about it, and you didn't want to reveal how easy it was for you to drown in the anxiety of it all.

Right now, though, you glanced outside to the chilling night, the moon concealed behind the murky clouds. The light was prominent, almost glowing behind the blanket of misty water. 

She was still out there. As if the moon was holding her breath, concealed for a reason, waiting to bestow her moonlight on the world below. 

Shuddering to yourself, you entered the lab with those annoying plastic glasses and your hair tied back. The lab was bustling, as usual, with your mother at the centre of it.

She was standing before this rack of small vials, the dark blue liquid still, waiting to be given, and she wrote fervently in her notebook. When she saw you, she smiled and ushered you over.

“You look oddly excited,” you noted. She waved you off with her hand.

“Just my life's work,” she replied in equal retaliation, reminding you her stubborn genes definitely passed to you. She noticed you scanning her notes and moved it closer.

She pointed to the patients’ names. “They were all bitten so, are being turned as we know it. But, with our drugs, we managed to delay it.”

You nodded because you knew this. “Okay? So, what's the news?”

Her turmoil returned with the crease of her brow.

“Whatever cells were infected with the venom, we managed to stop its process, but today, I was overlooking their conditions and it seems that the cells are being turned again. As if… the venom just overrode the drugs given.” She glanced at you with worry. That didn't sound good.

“It could be a mutation?” You suggested but she shook her head.

“Venom doesn't behave like a virus or bacteria. It can't… change itself, but it can interact with patients' DNA and induce change. But how likely is that to happen to all the patients there?” She explained with confusion laced in her tone. “And besides, my drug should work in finding the infected cells and stop the venom changing them. But, it's like the venom is immune to it.”

Definitely not good. If the constricted drug didn't work anymore, it meant having to make a new one. Not only that, but when you tried to connect the dots, it either meant someone wasn't administering the correct dosage or someone put more venom into their bodies to shatter all use of the current drugs. 

But how likely was it that all the patients had the same exact change? Not likely at all. And now, your suspicions clutched at your nerves, chewing on them.

She shut the file with a slam and gazed at the blue vials before her in little circular tubes, pointing at them.

“I made a stronger dose. Taehyun is testing it on some blood samples,” she said with a pensive sigh. You nodded along and, at that moment, Taehyun returned with a sealed box and a file underneath it. With a desperate gesture to him, he came to where you and your mother were and probably with news.

She beamed at him with expectancy, but he simply sighed with a sheepish smile. That was the code for an unsuccessful finding.

“I gave the stronger dose as asked, but…” he opened the file with an easy flick. “The drug was killing normal, healthy cells as well. So.”

She touched her temples again, stress seeping through her and catching you and Taehyun in its grasp.

“Great. So, we can't even use this one either.” She muttered, moving the multiple blue vials aside. Taehyun nodded solemnly whilst your gaze wandered to the window, to the moon that peeked out in the corner, a pink tint blushing across the surface. You squinted, but the sound of your mother mumbling brought you back.

Something bubbled in the back of your mind.

ﮩ٨ـﮩﮩ٨ـ♡ﮩ٨ـﮩﮩ٨ـ

6 PM. 

You were engrossed in your notes, scribbling away in your book as your gaze flickered from the computer to your words.

The thought of those patients suffering from possible vampirism and the strong venom brought you back to one moment: the students you and Soobin toured last week, and the conversation of the blood moon.

Sure, it was a myth, but myths were usually born with a small seed of truth. You just needed to get an actual sense of it.

Hence, you were hunched over the computer, finding any type of useful Internet search.

As said before, the blood moon happened every two hundred years where the vampires usually gained strength until becoming unstoppable. Natural abilities would develop vastly, their desire for blood would consume and bury their sanity, and their venom… would work quicker and harder to turn a person.

Bingo.

Hastily staring out the window, you glimpsed the deeper blush of the moon, light bleeding through the clouds and making your hunch even more believable. You have no idea if your mother will believe you with this… shaky basis, but an explanation was an explanation.

And you had to deliver.

Packing up your things, you recalled your mother leaving with Taehyun, but you don't know where. Taking your little notepad, you set off to find the pair. 

The halls were scarce, but you still waved as people passed you to do their business. After asking a few people, you ended up in the West Wing, the familiar cream halls hushed and eerie, your shoes rhythmically tapping along. Apparently, he came here to do the normal drug rounds about thirty minutes ago. You wished he didn't because it meant having to retrace your footsteps to the vampires. They all gave you the creeps. Evidently.

Whatever. Get in, and then get out. Simple mantra to follow.

After going through the first three floors, you ended up at the fourth, punching in the code and entering the chilled and thrumming lab.

Taehyun stood with his back to you, sorting through some papers and turned when he heard you come through the door. 

You were glad the blinds to Jungwon's window were closed. If you had him staring, you're sure he would be able to read your lips.

“Hey? You look eager,” he said with a smile, returning to the documents. Rushing over, you held out your notepad and flipped to the scribble of notes you had enthusiastically collected.

“I might know why those patients are turning to vampirism more rapidly,” you began saying, and then looked around the lab to notice your mother wasn't even here. Your shoulders deflated. Taehyun noticed.

“She went to a meeting. But, go on with the theory,” he said, leaning on the counter with his elbows. It would have been helpful to explain it once, but her responsibilities must have been stretching your mother four ways. You straightened yourself.

Enthusiastic about sharing your ideas, you went to read out your notes when the lights knocked out and darkness flashed through the room in a blink.

You gasped, glancing up to look for Taehyun who also made a few footsteps, worried and cautious. Your muscles tightened, as if there was a physical knot within.

“Tae?” You uttered, squinting as the dim safety lights peeked from the ceilings. It was barely helpful because Taehyun was a mere silhouette rather than a being with colours and facial features. He stepped towards you.

“This is weird. We should get out of here,” he said with a sharp edge of caution. 

“Agreed,” you mumbled, glancing up from your notepad only to jump slightly.

That's when you saw it, or… him.

Another dark figure standing dangerously close to Taehyun's back, head tilted, but the sparkle of his fangs instantly shot you with panic. You reached for Taehyun.

“Terry—”

Upon the looming figure behind him, he turned and the figure lunged, tackling Taehyun until his back collided with the table.

A startled scream escaped you as the familiar blonde attempted to claw Taehyun in the neck, but your friend kneed the vampire in the thigh, sending him with a stumble. Taehyun breathed hard but he wasn't done as he charged at the vampire with limbs ready for fight. Adrenaline flooded his system as he landed another punch at the creature, a low growl escaping him.

You realised you couldn't stand there and do nothing, not when the adrenaline hitched up your chest like spikes digging into soil. The refrigerator was in the corner and that's where you went.

With your heart slamming in your ribs, you hauled it open and the bright light stared back at you, stacks of syringes in packets ready to be used. There was no time.

Snagging a syringe, you peeled it open and took it out, swiftly unscrewing the cap over the thin needle.

Just one of these should do the trick. When you kicked the fridge shut, a loud crash shot through the room as Taehyun was thrown over the table and to the hard floor, and the vampire easily hovered over him, fist drawn back with a promise of malice. Taehyun yelled out in pain, hands fumbling to shield himself in a panic.

That was it. 

Wasting no time, you dug the syringe into the vampire's neck, pushing the drug all the way in.

A snarl escaped him as he rolled his neck, black veins fading in and travelling up his skin. It was enough for Taehyun to crawl away with sharp, ragged breaths, towards the door.

The syringe remained in his skin, as if it didn't bother him. What faltered your very thoughts was how he simply stood, anger rolling off him like you threw a stone into a still lake, forcing ripples to drift outwards.

The fear froze up your legs, and you tried to force yourself to move, but you could only take a simple step back.

Then, he turned and Jungwon's frown dug into his face, his hand plucking out the syringe, and within a single breath, he crushed it into pieces.

Shit.

Why wasn't he weakening? Since when did he escape? How was he so strong? 

And you remembered the blood moon, the pink tint that swallowed it and your breath shook as well as your heartbeat.

His gaze twitched, as if he heard it, too. Jungwon took a step forward. You took one back.

That's when the lab door shut with Taehyun rushing out in a panic, leaving you alone with… him.

Great. Alone. Defenseless.

“You think that will hurt me anymore?” He said lowly, stalking you with a practiced slowness, as if he knew there were no cuffs to restrict him, as if he tasted liberation. Breath hitching, you turned to run, but he was quicker.

He swiped your arm and yanked you close to him, and you yelped, bumping into his chest with trembling breaths. Tipping your chin up with a bruising grip to your jaw, he leaned down, enough for you to spot the crimson blood in his eyes.

“Here's what's going to happen,” he murmured darkly, drinking in the fearful whimper that fell from your lips. “Since your… friend left you, you're stuck with me. Meaning…”

His nose just about grazed your neck to hear the marathon your pulse was running at. “You're going to help me get my brothers out. And… well, you're great leverage.”

Your hands fumbled, clawing at his wrist, but he flexed his grip, and you let out a cry when his strength grew inhumane. You felt like your jaw would break. He scoffed.

“How did you—”

“I think we both know the answer to that. And, no more questions. We have much to do,” he interjected, letting go of your jaw only to drag you along with him to the door.

As he did, an alarm blared, red lights circling the room, and a robotic voice yelling “lockdown”.

Metal shutters fell down the door, sealing it shut, but Jungwon rolled his eyes at the hindrance.

“What are the procedures in the lockdown?” He asked with a slight shake to your arm. When you didn't reply, he snapped his eyes to your stunned form, and glared.

“What. Are. They?” 

You snapped out of the terror gripping your lungs, a shaky breath leaving you. Besides, there was no choice with the way he was burying his nails into your arm.

“All doors… and windows are sealed shut, lights stay like this. And there are cameras in here and outside to oversee anyone. Guards will be at their stations,” you replied quietly as he contemplated silently. After a few seconds, he straightened himself and dragged you along with him to the door.

With a harsh shove of the shoulder, the hinges flew and the door broke open into the hallway, hitting the opposite wall. You flinched, but Jungwon paid no mind, acting as if it was paper.

The hallway was the same, the red light circling in the dark corridor, the ends of the hallway shadowed with darkness as if there were things hiding in there. Shutters were closed at the next door as well, but his care ceased to exist. 

When approaching the next door, he put a strict finger to his lips directed at you. You didn't need to be told twice and you clenched your jaw obediently. 

Leaning his ear to the door, he closed his eyes briefly, stayed, and then opened them once more. Crimson. A much darker shade and you had to stop yourself from tugging your arm away from his grip. You're afraid he might rip your veins out if you do.

He obviously must have heard something because he gripped you out in front of him, now holding your shoulder, and with one hand, he clenched his fists and crushed the metal as if it was cardboard, and tore it away, flinging it to the side

The terror flooded your chest, forcing your breaths to come out ragged, your heart thundering in panic.

“You better stop panicking. It's too tempting,” he mumbled behind you. With one last shred to the shutter, it was enough for the normal door to show

Again, he shoved the door off the hinges, silence chilling the other side where the elevator stood not too far. The guards should be here, the three that guard him. You kept that to yourself.

An eerie stillness hummed in anticipation, the very sound wrapping around you like metal, chilling your nerves. Jungwon walked you forward a few steps with slow caution.

Within a second, a bullet rang out behind you with a shrill shriek, hitting somewhere on the far side when Jungwon swiftly dodged it, annoyance flooding him.

Jungwon wasted no time and shoved you to the floor, rolling you away from the danger as you grunted from the pain rippling up your hip. You sat up, the ringing making a home in your ears.

Another bullet.

Jungwon rolled his shoulders, craning his gaze to the two guards on his left, and the other on his right.

He took the right first, lunging with an insane speed that you barely knew when he flew. He clutched the young man's collar, ignoring the  scream, and threw the guard at the others.

In response, one guard caught him with a stagger, but the dude who wasn't burdened with a person clicked his gun and aimed like a mental routine. It wasn't enough. 

Jungwon pounced, snatching the gun only to smash it into the head of the dude with a sickening thud that hurt your own head.

Dude number one dropped. The other two scrambled away, but Jungwon scoffed, anger crawling up his shoulders and fists.

You shakily breathed, getting to your feet with haste, hating how the trembles anchored your legs. It wasn't the time to be choked with fear. The exit was right there for you to seize.

 You headed for the stairs at the side. The elevators didn't work in a lockdown annoyingly enough, but the grudges could wait until later. You would love to have a talk with the head of security. All these useless thoughts were grounding you to whatever hope was left in the dirt of it all. Of making it out alive.

Another sickening crack rang out, a scream, and then the sound of a man gurgling, as if choking for air.

The sounds alone made you sick, but you coaxed yourself to reach the stairwell. As you pushed it open, a sudden hand grasped your nape and whirled you around with a cruel hand. You cried out, meeting with the same malicious gaze, his blonde hair messy but his stare was sharp all the same. Only now, the restraint was running thinner, close to snapping.

“You're not running. Unless you want to end up like those three,” he threatened as the anxiety bled into your nerves. With no reply, he pushed open the stairwell that was bathed in a fading red light and darkness. You followed the grip on your upper arm, swiftly stepping down and trying not to trip like your heartbeat.

Arriving on the third floor, he slowed again and closed his eyes as if trying to distinguish something that you couldn't hear. When he opened them, he pushed you through the doors first.

You stumbled into the hallway, meeting the two guards standing before a shuttered door with shaky breaths. They glanced at you, and when you tried to tell them about Jungwon, a person blurred past before you could comprehend.

The guard barely knew what hit him and a fist knocked his jaw out of place. He fell back.

The second guard stood no chance when he raised his gun only to be pummelled in the stomach with a forceful kick. You flinched as his back collided with the wall, a thunderous echo making it clear his spine was rearranged. Jungwon didn't spare a blink as he took the guns from each writhing guard sprawled on the floor for his own. He beckoned you with a sharp look and you reluctantly approached him. 

Jungwon brushed his knuckles before ruining the doors like paper once more. The metal flew as he swung it to the side, and he dragged you with him.

Upon the next dark hallway, you saw two figures, tall with scarlet eyes that glowed stronger than the red warning lights. In other words—more trouble.

Sunghoon and Jake stood whilst you shuddered as their gazes spotted and scrutinised your figure with recognition that felt like thorns to your skin.

“You're here.” Jake glanced to an approaching Jungwon. He hummed in response as if obvious.

“Yeah. Was a little late because someone here tried to drug me again,” he sneered and all their gazes pointed to you again. 

Gosh, it was simply a procedure. Considering the drug didn't even work, he was being awfully salty right now. He had a lot of it despite the lack of blood he would have normally consumed.

You didn't need their judgement right now, not when they could so easily kill you. You lowered your gaze slightly and Jungwon let go of you, but this time, you stayed in your spot.

You had to stay smarter than sorry.

“Do you think Sunoo and Jay are out?” Sunghoon spoke for the first time, and the coldness in them sent chills to freeze your spine. Jake made a sound of possible agreement.

“They could. But we said we would meet them there.” Jake sighed, his fangs glinting at you in a threat. 

“Even if they're not out, she knows the codes anyway. Or we can break past the doors,” Jungwon murmured, running a hand through his hair. 

Through all this, one thing that you caught was the fact that they planned this. About meeting each other, breaking out the prisons—it was all initially planned and webbed together in a way that was unpredictable. You felt stupid for thinking this myth wouldn't exist when it was the only plausible explanation for their dramatic strength. Ripping through metal shutters, escaping the coded prisons; no drug could have foretold that.

A new question simmered in your head: did they plan to get into this prison then? But why? What would they achieve with that?

You were clutching at straws, loose ends, and it made your heart skip a beat. All three of them glanced and you felt like crawling into the ground. Jake licked his lips.

“One bite?”

“No, hyung.” Jungwon scanned over the fear fluttering over your eyes with intrigue and restraint. “I doubt she would survive even a small cut. She wouldn't be so useful then, would she?”

Jake rolled his eyes and grumbled: “fine.”

Whether that gave you relief or more anxiety, you had no idea. You tried to calm your heart with a deep inhale and exhale.

“No point of loitering here. Let's go.”

ﮩ٨ـﮩﮩ٨ـ♡ﮩ٨ـﮩﮩ٨ـ

Like before, when you and the other three arrived on the second floor, the guards were taken out so swiftly that you couldn't even react, nor warn them of it. They forced the security doors open, metal decorating the floor and forcing you into the hallway with two doors that would have Sunoo and Jay locked in.

Sunghoon barged into the left with no problem, and Jake to the right. And in the midst of all this, you wondered if your mother was okay, whether Taehyung (despite him abandoning you) was surrounded by safety. No more deaths, you told yourself. Both of them were smart. Much more than you, a simple intern. It was the only thing keeping you from sinking into a hole of panic. But the edges were fraying, your feet were slipping.

Jungwon remained standing behind you when his head perked up curtly.

Footsteps. Hurried and heavy, filled with metal and hostility.

The sound reached you as well, and you turned to the doorway with broken metal edges and failed security. 

“For Hell's sake,” he muttered before zeroing in on the multiple armoured guards with guns, helmets and radios buzzing to life, all approaching strategically.

They only flooded the doors and when they saw you, one of them put a hand up to the others behind him. Jungwon easily shielded himself with you and, despite your struggles, he kept you in one place, a malicious sparkle glinting past his eyes like a tide.

“Release her. Now.” One dude yelled, pointing his gun in your direction. Your heart jumped. Jungwon tilted his head, not moving you an inch. 

Oh, man, you were about to die today. Tugging away again, Jungwon gripped your nape with his free hand, and your breath hitched, pain tingling in your skin. The grip was a display of power, control, that he would make the decisions.

You froze again.

“Release her, otherwise we will be forced to shoot,” the man shouted again as a threat. A chuckle slipped past Jungwon.

“Feel free. I mean, I could bite her for a quicker death, if that's what you guys want?” He mused, challenging them even more by lowering his lips to your neck. You recoiled hard but didn't get anywhere with your nape caught in his grip.

The man and the guards all froze, obviously caught in a dilemma. Jungwon smiled again, lifting his chin with pride. “There we go. Now, if you don't mind, we will keep her safe as long as you keep away.”

“We?” The main guard repeated in a low voice. As he said that, two figures emerged from each side, silent, predatory. You watched as the vampires, none other than Jay and Sunoo, joined the group, a hunger visible in their stares and straight lips.

You had the slight hint that you were inevitably screwed. Possibly more than you thought.

A wave of apprehension crossed over the guards drowning them entirely, and you were afraid these vampires could sense it.

Sunoo hummed in approval. “Gosh, Jungwon, let me get a bite from one of them. Their heartbeats are too enticing past that poor excuse of an armour.”

Jungwon chuckled, gripping your nape harder, forcing a whimper to catch in your throat, tension locking all your muscles.

“Sunoo, let's control ourselves. We have much more to do.” Jungwon glanced at his brother, who smiled only a little but it was full of that same insanity you had witnessed a week prior. That he was picking apart these soldiers just to play with them.

Jay cracked his knuckles, eyeing them silently. “Let's get it over with.”

That was when Jungwon swung you behind him, and you stumbled to the floor. You grunted, landing on your knees, and when bullets rang out like a cry of oncoming violence that whistled in your ears, you abruptly shielded your face.

The guards lunged, guns aimed at the ready. But the vampires dodged easily, and they practically flew to the men, eyes glowing red with morbid intent.

The first guard was crushed into the ground, a hand pinning his throat to the floor as he gasped out in terror. Sunghoon grinned.

Jay clicked his neck and dove head first, fist flying for a man's shoulder, and the other colliding past the visor and into his face. Screams ripped from his throat and others, but it was simply a sound of succes to him. If he had a heartbeat, it would have been thriving from how alive he felt.

Sunoo strode in, then progressed into a run as he leapt to the wall at his right, catching the men off guard when he pounced, and swung his claws at them; fabric ripped and the men backed away, tripping over each other, but Sunoo grabbed the opportunity and jumped atop some of them before punching through the helmet, denting the metal itself. The man screamed in half terror and pain, limbs flailing aimlessly, but soon fell limp to the ground. Sunoo hummed.

Jake easily went into the heat of the storm and swiped a gun, power surging through him as he turned the metal, clicked it and let the bullets fly.

With the mean wearing vests, Jake snarled and aimed for the neck instead. As time slowed down for him, he briefly froze, aimed, and fired.

The bullet ripped through the uniform and the smell of blood flooding out skin tickled his nose. But there was no time to dwell.

Jungwon's speed advantaged him greatly, moving in a coloured blur and testing his knuckle's ability to endure each cracking punch. When bullets grazed him, his eyes snapped to the perpetrator, and he lunged, clutching their throats and tightening the grip until the squirming body turned limp and void of light.

The smell of death pervaded the air, and you couldn't handle it. You knew they were criminals, but seeing it first hand was embedding a new type of trauma into your heart. 

They were distracted, though.

Shakily looking to your right, the emergency exit was lit green, but with a shuttered door over it. The keypad next to it glowed like an opportunity and you saw your chance.

Pushing yourself up, you buried the trembles and anxiety down where it was hard to remember, as if it was a fleeting emotion that didn't exist.

You got to your feet, jaw clenched so tightly that you thought your teeth would turn to dust.

As soon as you reached the keypad, you flipped the plastic cover up and began to search your brain for the codes.

All fire exit codes were the same as the codes for the normal doors. The ones that now had ripped metal defending them.

This was the second floor. And if you remembered the pattern of Taehyun's fingers…

“0203..?” You whispered and began to put the numbers in despite the sounds…

Sounds. 

There were none. None of struggling, screaming, or bullets. Your whole body locked into place, unable to move for a moment.

You turned slowly and a hand seized your throat, ripped you away from the fire exit, and you shrieked. The next thing you knew, your body met the ground, your throat still contracting with panic, blood rushing with nerves. 

When you opened your eyes, you saw the five of them standing over you in a circle, knuckles tinted with fresh red, barely a scratch on the surface of their skins. 

Jungwon looked pissed.

“You don't fucking listen, do you?” He sneered ruthlessly, fists clenched. His voice alone sent another wave to rock your heart. Your breath hitched, holding back tears of pure anxiety.

“Hey, relax. It's not like she can outrun us anyway,” Sunoo said with a permanent smirk of mischief. 

Jay tilted his head in consideration. “One bite—?”

“Oh for Hell's sake, no!” Jungwon snapped at the older one, who simply shrugged, used to his temper.

“Gosh, let's just go. Riki and Heeseung are waiting,” Jake said, rolling his eyes with impatience. With a huff, Jungwon hauled you up by the arm and looked to one of the opened doors leading into the prison labs. Within two seconds, he blurred in like the wind, then out but returned with something slender and long. Trembling, you glanced to see him circling rope, the same type that was used to restrain them, around his palm, his gaze unmoving, merciless when it returned to the apprehension thrumming in yours.

You recoiled in refusal but a few hands gripped your shoulders whilst Sunghoon and Jake held out your arms. The panic spiked in you.

“S-stop, wait—”

Jungwon didn't listen and when he came closer, Jake and Sunghoon quite literally crushed your wrists together as you struggled. It was a losing battle from the start.

The rope came around your wrists a few times until he made something intricate and caged you within it. Tears lined your eyes, heartbeat spiking that you didn't care if they heard it anymore. They let go of your shoulders but Jungwon kept a hold of the end of the rope by looping it around his palm once or twice.

“Now, you won't run.”

ﮩ٨ـﮩﮩ٨ـ♡ﮩ٨ـﮩﮩ٨ـ

Going down to the first floor, the guards were practically useless because they were knocked out when Jay and Sunghoon dislocated their jaws and probably their internal organs as well.

Sunoo crushed the metal shutters, revealing the normal door and shoved it off its hinges to the dark hallway with two doors still closed.

“We'll take care of it,” Jake said before nodding to Sunghoon. They both disappeared into a separate doorway, and you looked around discreetly.

You can't run with Jungwon keeping your hands on a leash, the guards were knocked out, there were now seven vampires free. If you even attempted another escape plan, you would be asking for a death wish.

Another spike of panic hit your heart, and Sunoo glanced. Jungwon raised an eyebrow at the older one before glaring. “Don't even ask.”

Disbelief swept over Sunoo, a petulant pout appearing briefly. He crossed his arms.

“Oh come on, what are you keeping her for anyway if not for a snack? Do you know how long we had to snack on that animal shit?” Sunoo glanced at your lowered head and trapped hands. Jungwon scowled. 

“As much as I also had to have the same blood.” He sighed, head flickering back and forth to hear for any intruders.

“Then, one bite. Just a scratch—”

“Hyung. She is the daughter of that crazy scientist that keeps testing us,” he said. Jungwon tugged once on the rope and you winced, pain tingling in your skin. “So, she could be helpful as leverage, and she probably knows the in and outs of the building.”

“And, after that?” Sunoo prompted, causing Jay to snort behind you. It wasn't the least bit amusing to you, but Jungwon gave a cold smile.

“We'll see.”

That alone sent prickling anxiety to sting your spine and you shifted uncomfortably. Now, you had a deadline—one before they bit you and God knows what.

The doors slammed open again, causing you to flinch and snap your gaze up to spot the last two vampires: Riki and Heeseung.

The oldest one lifted his gaze again in recognition when he saw you, but you honestly didn't have the guts to meet anyone's gaze. Riki smiled and sauntered over, rolling his wrists and neck.

“Finally free. And fresh food—”

“I got first dibs,” Sunoo interrupted and disgust rolled over Riki's face.

“No way, that's not even fair. I wasn't here to even call—”

“That's enough, both of you.” Jungwon snapped his gaze to his fellow brothers. They shut up, but the war of their petty fight continued with their sharp gazes. Slowly, Jungwon's gaze panned to your avoidant eyes.

“Now that all of us are in one place, our plan can continue,” he continued. Heeseung shifted, rolling his arm about to loosen the rigidity sleeping in his skin.

“Yeah, well. We need to get rid of those pesky guards. No doubt they're waiting below with the guns at the ready,” Heeseung mumbled and the others murmured in dejected agreement.

“If they're going to fight with their weapons, we need ours,” Riki scoffed, crossing his arms. Jungwon tugged on the rope to catch your attention. You glanced reluctantly.

“Where are our weapons?” Jungwon asked with an unyielding tone. 

You could lie. They know you're a simple intern so, maybe if you just weave a white lie, you wouldn't be aiding them in any more violence. The idea alone sent your heartbeat to race in readiness. Heeseung caught it; swift and drumming in anticipation and he frowned more.

“Don't you dare lie.” He said darkly, causing all of them to loom over you like threatening clouds that were about to drown you in blood or something. With that idea out the window, you swallowed hard to gather your voice.

“... E-East Wing. Ground floor.” You dropped your gaze to the ground.

“And, the cameras,” Jungwon said, flickering his gaze to the black lens focusing on them silently. The others looked as well, faces thundering with disdain for the over-technical facility. 

Gradually, he lifted his chin again to the others.

“As long as those cameras are looked at and work, they will send more of their men,” Jungwon said, curtly tightening his palm around the rope. Jay smirked.

“So, we need to get rid of whoever is in the control room.” He glanced at you again, and the scrutiny ran down your head, past your lowered eyes and then your lips. With a tug, Jungwon lifted your gaze.

“You wouldn't happen to know where that is, would you?” He purred, making your skin crawl, but managing to shake your head.

“I'm o-only an intern. I don't know.” You clenched your fists harder in the bounds.

“Great,” Sunghoon muttered before picking up a piece of scrap metal and hurling it at the camera with a whoosh. It hit the target with a swift slice, and the camera jostled and broke until it sparked, hanging by the wires.

“And we need to get those… those humans to turn completely,” Jungwon muttered, contemplating his control and the exact route to reach that destination. 

“They're still here? Then, we can just bite them again. Our venom will work completely,” Sunoo suggested, licking over his fangs at the thought of biting into fresh flesh again. Heeseung nodded.

“It will. Especially tonight.”

You grit your teeth.

You knew these vampires were strong. Stronger than ever. The blood moon would make sure they carved their power and control into everything. But, how do you even go about defeating them? 

You rewinded everything these past few weeks and days, down to the hours before the facility broke into chaos. Then, it hit you like a fleeting arrow.

The trial drug your mother was working on. The one where Taehyun claimed it killed normal body cells as well. One would have to assume these vampires still had healthy and normal body cells to that of humans, but it was worth a shot. The only hard part was baiting them to go into the East Wing labs on the second floor without them deciphering your plan and making their threats real.

“I doubt they kept those humans,” Riki snorted, crossing his arms. You perked your head up slightly.

“You mean the patients in the East ward?” 

They all snapped their gazes to you, intrigued but some were cautious, building up their own defenses.

“Patients?” Heeseung repeated slowly, almost as if the idea of these people being healed was a ludicrous idea.

“Yes. It's… one of the main reasons that people work at the facility,” you replied quietly, fighting through the hope that considered sparking away and setting your mind on edge. They didn't believe you. You knew it, but your stare remained before Jungwon sighed.

“We need to split, so more ground is covered.” 

The split ended up being so that Jungwon, Sunoo, Sunghoon, and Jake went to get the weapons and take out the man in the control room; Heeseung, Riki and Jay would go with you to the East ward.

Despite all this, you hoped your mother would still be hiding in the lab, thinking of ways to shut down these vampires once and for all.

Or incapacitate them if death wasn't a door discovered meant for these vampires.

Concern ached and clutched at your nerves when you thought about Soobin, Taehyun, and your mother in the path of safety.

You grit your teeth as Heeseung held the end of the rope, Jay behind you, and Riki leading everyone. The hallways were still basked on emergency red light circling the area, and you wondered if the moon out there was the same furious colour.

As all three cautiously stalked through the corridors, you began to speak.

“You guys knew the Blood Moon would happen tonight…” it wasn't a question but a statement, something accusatory. Heeseung tightened his grip on the rope, not sparing a single glance.

“Why wouldn't we?” He kept following Riki, who turned back once.

“I thought it was a myth.” You mumbled again and Jay scoffed behind you, walking closer to your back.

“Myths always have some kind of truth behind it, an event that makes it real,” he said with something certain. Of course. They have probably never told anyone that they keep track of the moon, waiting to bloom with strength. Smart because no one saw it coming. Not even the Facility.

“Why? What story?” You pressed again and Heeseung tugged you abruptly, and you stumbled to him and his eyes simmered with annoyance.

“You ask too many questions.”

“Nah, let me explain,” Riki took, sounding pleased, over as he continued walking. Heeseung scanned your blinking eyes over once more before following.

“Since your institution probably won't take this seriously, I'll say it.” Riki threw a glance at you. “It starts with our parents. They made a deal with the devil. God knows what, but we were born.”

Jay made a sound of slight disagreement. “You know that the deal was made so we would survive in that… village. It was small, but sickness always hit them.”

“Yeah, yeah. Plagues and stuff. But, our parents made sure they would keep us alive. Hence, the deal,” Riki turned the corner, eyeing the dark corridor that led to the East Wing. Still abandoned and circling with red lights. Heeseung spotted the camera, and walked, tugging you along.

“Clear. The cameras aren't making that fuckass sound,” he muttered to the others and you were led along.

Jay continued behind you. “We were kept in one, large cottage. Cosy, but they didn't let us go out even once.” 

“Like your mother,” Riki snickered in sarcasm, and you ignored the jab.

“We were kids, we didn't know why. We thought they were protecting us,” Jay said again, something hardening into betrayal underneath. 

“But, you guys were turning?” You finished off and Riki shrugged.

“Not exactly. We didn't feel anything of the sort. Not until Jungwon hyung went out into the forest one day,” he explained, piquing your interest as you and the others disappeared into the darkening halls.

“Jungwon went out without permission, but when he came back, he was covered in blood, mouth to toe. But he wasn't crying,” Jay picked up.

At the thought of a young Jungwon basically drowning in blood made your stomach curl a little, all appetite fleeing your body. Riki chuckled slightly.

“Don't forget how he dragged a human back to the house,” he replied, deepening the horror into your skin.

Your steps slightly faltered but Heeseung tugged harder on your chafed wrists, and you winced. Jay gave you a nudge forward.

“Right. The first of many.” But Jay wasn't speaking out of revulsion—it sounded like reverence, as if it was a blessing in disguise. “And from there, it was like a domino effect. Jungwon first, Sunghoon and Jake, then Sunoo and I. Then, Heeseung hyung and Riki. Each one of us turned and so, our bloodlust grew. It's pathetic how our parents didn't protect us, but protected the village from us.”

Their parents knew but didn't even bother to tell them. Did they know before or after? Did they ever try to stop them? What happened to that village? 

All those questions returned to the surface, wanting to be picked and answered, but your voice had shrunk upon hearing the origin of all their violence.

“Hey, our parents made us like this, and I'm grateful.” Riki shot an impish look at Jay, who rolled his eyes.

“Well, I can't lie and say it wasn't liberating. It was. It felt like we had no walls to keep us in. And each of us have different abilities. We only learned that later.” Jay glanced at the curiosity fluttering in your eyes.

“So, you didn't have those to begin with?” You looked over your shoulder briefly, but kept walking. In response, he shook his head.

“Why do you think we have the Blood Moon?” He replied slyly.

“To kill as many people as you can?” You remarked with a jab that made Heeseung huff, tugging you more in a sharp warning. You silenced yourself, but Jay chuckled.

“One can say that. But what's the point of killing when we can share the curse? It's liberating, Intern Song, and I feel upset that you can't see it,” he murmured, his voice suddenly hovering too close, eyes burning over the curve of your shoulder and neck.

Your heartbeat spiked and he grinned in silence. Whatever Soobin and the students had said about them achieving high strength wasn't fake after all. Clearly. And the urge to get the trial drug and stop these vampires grew beneath your anxiety like a scar never fading. Not only that—they wanted more people to turn and embrace the horrific fate that was immortal bloodlust.

“You're lucky, Intern, you get to witness one of the most important Blood Moons,” Riki said as he began to tear apart the metal shutters shielding the door. He tossed it aside whilst you pondered over your plan. 

As soon as he did, the plan to take out the guards was swift, each one taking less than ten seconds to make them drop to the floor, breathing or not. Seeing so many of them still and limp brought something heavy to tug on your throat and cry. But, there was no time to breathe.

Heeseung was already dragging you along with the rope, not bothering to stop when you had to sidestep the dropped guards with baited breath.

The walk up to the second floor was hasty but you followed anyway, your own plan growing beneath the dirt. More metal shutters were put in place on the next floor but Jay kicked it down until the dark lab hallway was present. The familiar doors were still barricaded, but your focus was on the door at the end, the one that held the research lab.

“Take us to the humans,” Heeseung said beside you. Without argument, you led them towards the end and then slowed with shaky breaths.

If you were correct, there are probably guards behind the doors and it meant an opportunity to buy time and unlock the cupboard. You glanced between the two doors and all three of them narrowed their gaze in suspicion. The way they stilled at your contemplation, trying to pick the edges apart for the truth behind it.

Heeseung tugged you back harshly until you bumped into his side and a hiss escaped your lips. There was no care in his scarlet eyes as he lowered his face, exhaling with an unstable composure on the verge of snapping.

“You're hesitating,” he sneered darkly. Your gaze flickered, to him, to the wall, and then to the ground before he yanked on your hands again. You winced, glancing again.

“Which damn door?” He snapped now, impatient and with warning. Taking a shaky breath, you turned your head to the ward door. If you took them in there, you know you could easily step away from the action and into the lab room, carrying out your own plan.

“There.” 

Riki was already ripping down the door, and opened it. Heeseung pushed you inside and darkness shrouded the room. The hum of ventilator machines remained, a slight blue hue from the emergency lights keeping the room from complete pitch black.

Your breath caught in your throat as the three vampires saw the curtains pulled around the patients, their gazes scanning, but hungry. It was as if they had reached a point of achievement.

Jay took the first step towards the first curtain before him and began to tear the fabric away. As soon as he did, a man in armour stepped out, gun aimed and ready to shoot. Jay recoiled with visible annoyance.

Heeseung snarled and tried to keep his grip on you, but you pushed him towards Jay, causing them to stumble into the wall.

Rage flashed past Riki's face and he lunged for you only for another guard to step out the curtain and catch him in motion. They crashed to the floor, and the ward room became a tornado of instant chaos. 

A guard fell when Jay swiped his leg beneath the dude, forcing him to fall onto his back with an aggravated yell. The gun was swiped and Heeseung caught it, opening fire at the other few guards popping out the curtains in defense. Even Riki was warring with violence, using only his hands to claw at the dude that tackled him, digging his nails into the neck of him. A scream ripped his throat, but he didn't care. It all passed him like the wind. Blood coated his fingers and the floor, but his attention was needed where more guards were charging at him. He rose with a newfound darkness storming his eyes.

That was your chance. 

You stumbled back, and broke into a run to get to the adjoining door leading to the labs. Like before, you flipped open the plastic covering to the keypad, punched in the code like muscle memory and watched as the metal shutters lifted and the sliding doors came into view. Your heart was thundering.

You tried your best to open the door with your bound hands, and you instantly slipped in and shut it behind you, putting in the same code so that the shutters swallowed the door again.

A grunt left you as you bumped into a counter, breathless, hopeful, but also overwhelmed. You had the chance to actually take a breath after being suffocated by those vampires’ demands and internal hunger. Not only that, but the fact they could have sunk their fangs in and drained you of life was also another reminder that hammered into your brain with no aim. There was no guarantee that the others haven't gotten their teeth messy. More persuasion to hit these vampires where they won't see it.

 You clutched your shirt at your chest from the pure adrenaline coursing through and weighing each breath down more than normal.

“Y/n?”

That motherly voice came from the side in the darkness followed by more footsteps, hushed whispers and some metal clinking together. Stunned, you straightened yourself to squint into the darkness. From the other room approached your mother, Taehyun and Soobin, worry stitched into their eyes, and then relief as they hurried to you. Some guards came, but retreated once they saw it was you.

Instantly, you ran to her, the tears you locked away returning as you dug your face into her shoulder. Her grip was strong when she hugged back, distress locked into every muscle. You were just glad she was alive and breathing.

“Oh gosh, your hands,” she exclaimed, lifting your bound wrists. Soobin gasped slightly whilst, Taehyun instantly grabbed scissors, the huge ones, before returning to you. Time ticked on but he deftly worked through them. The knots were annoying to work through, but when your hands fell free of the restraints, you hugged Taehyun as well.

He stiffened, a slight warmth rushing up his cheeks but he smiled softly, hands patting your back in reassurance. That you were back in the grounds of safety. He pulled you back by the shoulders.

“Where were you? I'm so sorry for abandoning you. I was going to go back but—”

“No need.” You wiped your eyes and looked at your bewildered mother. “I know how to defeat them. Well, it's a possibility.”

All three swiftly followed you deeper into the lab, to the adjacent room where the fridges remained shut and locked, science equipment sterilised and on display, and the dim emergency lights still blue and thrumming.

“You said that the trial suppressant was killing healthy cells as well. Normal ones.” You gestured to your mother. Realisation struck her just as hastily and then, concern. Her steps were careful when she approached, as if she wanted to disagree. You didn't understand in the slightest.

“We can't just kill them. The Facility built this on the basis we research them,” she countered eagerly, making you shake your head in vehement refusal, wanting to shake the sense into her.

“They bound me! And, they're going to keep getting stronger if we don't stop them. Those guards can only hold off so much,” you explained with equal desperation. When she still floated in silence, you glanced at Soobin who fiddled with a pen, but he wasn't exactly shocked. Just unsure.

“Soobin told me that these vampires get stronger with every Blood Moon.”

She grimaced. “That's all a myth, honey.”

“No, it isn't. Those monsters admitted it. And it's the only reason that the patients are converting back to vampirism after steady weeks of testing. I was going to tell you but…” you sighed, holding onto the counter at the landslide of thoughts suffocating your head. All three went silent, distant guns and movements making your nerves jump. Time was slipping away from you no matter how much you wanted to capture it.

“Please. Listen to me. We need to kill these vampires before they even think of turning anyone else,” you said again, and even held her arm as her gaze flickered and jumped between the conflict raging furiously within her. “I know their plan.”

With a defeated exhale, she nodded and your shoulder slumped with relief. But even then, uou wouldn't allow yourself rest if the mission wasn't done.

Soobin and Taehyun said they would guard outside; your mother was preparing the syringes, making sure to quickly line them up; and you were in the fridge, checking for the trial drugs’ blue liquid.

You were conscious of the time again, the lack of it anchoring deeply in your chest. What worried you more was the fact that there were probably more dead bodies out there. Their personal cemetery.

“Have you found them?” She asked from behind you. A distant scrape, bullet and tear echoed in the distance, but you swallowed down your anxiety.

“No.” You shoved boxes out the way as you looked down the icy box. Another scrape.

“It should be at the bottom. I left it there,” she said, shuffling behind you with plastic and glass, hastily tinkering.

Following her instructions with your chest curled in knots, you stacked all irrelevant boxes until you found the glass one with blue vials down below. 

Bingo.

You hauled it to the counter before frantically stacking everything back, and shut the fridge. 

“You found it?” She breathed, coming beside you. You nodded, taking one into your hands and feeling the weight of it all within your palm. As if you held the world by just your fingertips, too. Maybe it was knowing you had the capability to end the spread of bloodlust and corrupted immortality. All by your human hands.

She picked up the remaining in the rack and returned to her station, wearing gloves eagerly and opening the screw of one. 

“I'll help,” you declared calmly. Rushing to the gloves on the other side of the room, you failed to notice the shriek of metal, a hungry growl of a machine, something menacing on your path. It was stupid how easily your composure dampened. The only thing in your head was getting those vials into those vampires and stopping them.

Another nefarious growl roared in the lab, running through the surfaces and up your bones. It was so close, your silicone gloves forgotten mid-pull.

And then, the ravenous metal sliced, a blood-curling scream echoing out after and capturing your muscles in ice. 

Your breaths felt heavy, every part of you screaming to not look, but you did anyway.

Your knees weakened, hands fueled with tremors as you held yourself by the counter to see your mother trembling in place, her hands cupping her bloodied side. There was so much of it. You couldn't even tell what was her skin, what was fabric, heart thundering in panic, as if trying to weave something out of pure denial.

You had to look away because it was fake. Clearly. And only then you saw the four figures looming behind her, still, calm as if this was normal. None of this was normal.

She parted her lips, trying to say something, but you saw the exact moment the light escaped her eyes and her body dropped, her bloody hand sliding off the counter and nudging the remaining vials. The thud was a single knell in your ears.

The denial hit you hard. 

She wasn't dead. She wasn't. She was your strong mother that had a head of steel and tackled every problem with her own constructed weapon. She wasn't one to just accept death. You waited for her to speak, maybe stand and stumble over to you.

But when her body slumped on the floor, standing in her place was a chainsaw, the metal still but coated with copper and red torment. 

And Jungwon holding it, blonde hair a mess, his black mask returned to the lower half of his place, but his scarlet eyes pinned you to a place.

You couldn't breathe. Your legs weakened and you whimpered, dropping to your knees in denial, harsh, ragged breaths falling past your lips in large gulps, hot tears blurring your vision like a constant tide you were drowning under.

It wasn't real. You were dreaming. And your mother wasn't dead. She was just there. 

The heavy tug on your sternum pinned your breaths, your lungs, until it felt like your own body would collapse in on itself. You were doubled over, tears drenching your cheeks before you knew it.

Footsteps.

You couldn't hear them. You saw them before your blurry gaze, and when you looked up, you sobbed, unrestrained.

All seven of them looming over you like a miserable promise. Sunoo held the hacksaw, head tilted in sick curiosity and you swore a smirk flickered behind the narrow gaps of the black mask; Riki held the metal bat with barbed wire and thorns, a bloodied smile worn; Jay held the spiky bludgeon, the ball attached to a chain, emotionless; and Jungwon in the middle of it all, holding that metal monster with ease, familiarity. 

Recognition.

When he reached out to you, something in you snapped, and a shriek tore past your lips as you scrambled back, hitting the cupboards behind you. Your skin flared. As if them getting near brought thorns to prickle your skin and render you in pain.

A flash of annoyance rekindled, but he simply took a step forward, making your heartbeat rage terribly. You knew they heard it.

“Get up,” He demanded just as darkly as before, as if he hadn't ripped your mother away from the world. You shook your head, your sobs growing hastily. 

Jungwon's gaze narrowed and Heeseung's hand snapped to your arm, hauling you up forcefully and keeping you near. 

Breathing was hard for you now, and you continued to cry, all thoughts weighing down like stones planted into the planes of your skull.

“Shut her up,” Sunghoon said with distaste behind that monstrous mask. A hand clamped over your mouth, effortlessly silencing your sobs to hiccups and whimpers. You couldn't even find any of your strength to resist, exhaustion sinking into your bones. 

Her screams haunted you, the look in her tearful eyes. More tears arose, knocking at the walls of your eyes, and you couldn't deny the truth of it anymore. That denial dissolved into solid grief, the type that binded deep in your lungs, making each breath sting and seize your chest.

They all walked closer and your whines grew loud and panicked. Heeseung tightened the grip on your mouth, pressing your head back into his chest, refusing to free you.

Your pulse drummed desperately, as if urging yourself to struggle, but you couldn't. The vials were still on the counter where your mother was slaughtered, taunting you. It irritated you to no ends that your solution was right there, silently mocking you for being caged and surrounded.

The mere thought crushed all your composure again, and again until it was just dust.

“Intern Song,” Jungwon said calmly as he stood right before you with dark, crimson eyes, the colour almost a display of your mother's innocent blood staining his sanity. 

Apprehensive whines left your body, and you couldn't hold it together. Everything felt wobbly, loose. They managed to destroy everything holding you together. Heeseung pressed his palm to your lips even more.

“I need you to listen, and listen well,” he continued, ignoring you. His gaze flickered over your hazy and teary eyes, the sight fueling a darkness within, making him smirk.

“You need to do a job for us,” he said with another pur. You shook your head with muffled sobs and Heeseung sneered, stilling your head. Jungwon smiled coldly and it sent something heavy to curl in your stomach. Sunoo smiled, tilting his head. It only looked worse with those black masks.

“There's a reason why we haven't killed you, lovely,” he said with a false sweetness. The others shifted, but it was Sunghoon that appeared at your side within a swift second. A shudder seized your spine.

Sunghoon leaned down with that air of control. “You're going to help us make a serum… a venom.”

This time, your breaths halted, eyes creasing in confusion. It didn't make any remote sense. Even in your state of grievance. They could just bite people and get it over with. Why do they need you?

They saw the mental questions arising and Jake scanned you over with mirth.

“You see, only us seven can turn vampires in one go. Anyone we turned cannot do it to the same ability,” Jake explained as he flexed his knuckles, his dead eyes boring into yours. You glanced away.

“And we need it done quickly. With the Blood Moon, we have become stronger and need to spread… our curse. The serum can be quicker if the humans do some of the jobs for us,” Jay continued, and all of them held that expectation in their straightened postures and cold gazes.

Riki finally stepped forward, the bat resting on his shoulder as if he was carrying an old friend. You whimpered.

“And you're going to help us do that,” he finally said before they all pinned you with their gazes.

The tears remained but your sobs had been buried by the pure striking shock of what they wanted you to do. Obviously you can't do that. To even go against why you accepted the internship at the facility in the first place would unravel all your sanity, your reasoning. The only things you had left to keep. Deciding to do good wasn't just a personal thing—you were confident when you knew what the destination was, when knowing that your aid contributed to something positive. Even if a fraction. 

Not to mention that your mother worked so hard, putting all her time and sleep into helping those patients regain their old life. For you to break that legacy would be ending her work, betraying her. And now, with her body lying a few feet away, the refusal caged the offer from ever reaching you. You didn't even blink in contemplation.

Jungwon ground his teeth, dropping the chainsaw with a heavy clunk. A flinch broke through you, but he didn't care. Heeseung released you wordlessly only for Jungwon to slide his hands through your locks and yank your head back. You cried out abruptly, hands clawing at him in a weak attempt to unfurl his violent grasp.

It didn't work.

“I don't think you heard us clearly,” he muttered dangerously, tugging your strands back further as you whimpered, more tears slipping down your cheeks. “You will make the serum, and you will do so without me asking once more.”

“A-and… if I don't?” You managed to croak out, fighting the storm of emotions. Jungwon tilted his head until his nose grazed your trembling neck again, holding you there.

“Then I will bite you. Right here.” Jungwon physically prodded his fangs in warning at the side of your neck, and you tried to push his chest. He remained, and chuckled with that same control he rediscovered and kept in his grasp. “And I will turn you into what you hate the most. A monster.”

He pulled away only a little but it was still so close. You couldn't process it. Everything was frozen, woven in a deep web of problems. And the solution? You couldn't even figure it out. It was all loose, tangled.

Silence gripped your throat, eyes searching his but it was just stone hard and unyielding. And exuded power that he wouldn't be denied. 

Pain tingled up your scalp as he tightened his hand, and you winced again, then shook your head.

“Don't m-make me—”

“You don't tell us what to do,” Jungwon snapped, yanking on your hair again, sending another crack of pain through your head. A hoarse cry left your throat.

Riki rolled his eyes, his bat swinging down with slight force and striking the back of your knees. Another burst of pain sprung up your buckling legs, and Jungwon wrapped his free arm about your waist as you struggled to deal with the dilemma and pain. Your hands braced with no choice on his chest and another wave of indecision submerged you.

It was clear he didn't care. Those cruel, crimson eyes were waiting, but the patience was quickly dissolving, and so was your time.

“Will you do it or do you need another reminder?” Heeseung remarked darkly behind you. 

Looking at your choices from every angle, there was barely a route where you escaped safely. If you run, you would get bit; if you go along with it, you would be aiding these notorious criminals into turning the city into their own personal army; if you don't do anything at all…

“Well?” Jungwon pressed on, causing you to snap back to reality. You had to keep yourself alive. The small spark melted your hopelessness, but it was something.

You won't stop fighting for yourself, nor your mother. But if you had to fight, you couldn't get yourself killed before the battle even started.

With a defeated slump of the shoulders, your gaze lowered and he smiled, loosening the grip on your hair, but not completely.

“Smart girl,” he purred before he let go and Sunoo approached, lowering his mask deftly. Defensive, you stepped back.

“What are you—?”

Sunoo dismissed your words easily, like dust. He grinned in anticipation. “Don't you remember? I got first dibs.”

The initial panic climbed up your chest, and you stumbled back again. Jake grumbled as well as Riki.

“I wanted a taste,” Riki muttered. You weren't listening to them anymore because you glanced at Jungwon.

“You said if I agreed, I wouldn't be bitten!” You exclaimed with ragged breaths, backing up until you bumped into Sunghoon. His hands latched onto yours like cuffs and you abruptly yelled.

Jungwon shrugged, picking up his chainsaw again, but a smirk curled ever so slightly at the corner. “I said I wouldn't bite you. I never said anything about the others.”

Why did you ever trust his word? 

Sunoo strolled over with a skip in his step, the anticipation thrumming through him like waves that did nothing to calm your frantic struggles. You shook your head with trembling breaths, begging.

They all watched like it was the most normal thing ever, as if this was a sick routine.

“Sunoo, please—”

“Oh, it'll only sting a little,” he teased, cupping your face and forcefully exposing your neck. In a desperate attempt, you kicked at him, but his hand gripped your thigh and eased it down harshly. 

“Tsk, tsk, I'm not turning you. Just want a little… snack,” he whispered, removing your hair and the lab coat that seemed useless now, and he inhaled deeply.

This can't be happening. None of this was real. But no matter how many times you denied the situation, the more your body felt crushed under it all. 

Especially when Sunoo prodded his fangs, humming like he inhaled a sweet song, and you shrieked. Sunghoon held you too easily by the arms, and Sunoo kept you in place by the jaw.

There was no preparation that could make you endure the pain.

Nothing at all.

The moment Sunoo's fangs broke through your skin, a sudden explosion of pain struck through your neck and shoulder, an agonised cry leaving your tight lungs. All your muscles flexed, tightened and a thousand painful knots curled into your flesh.

That was only the surface, the mere opening of your flesh, not even enough to draw blood. But it was enough for tears to coat your eyes again, your head to thrash, nails digging crescents into your palm.

“Stop—!”

Sunoo boldly sunk his teeth all the way in and an immediate dizziness consumed you, your head losing strength, pain sweeping over you like the heaviest tide in a hurricane. At this point, voices blurred and your knees buckled. You couldn't think past the barrier of your vessels cracking, and allowing his intruding fangs to disrupt like a visitor you never asked for. A thief for your blood.

Pain ignited and struck you once more, hitting you with one, hot bolt of pulsing pain through your neck and shoulder.

You couldn't comprehend thoughts, words. Everything twisted and kept you oblivious except the fact that Sunoo greedily took your blood, each motion sparking more agony to tighten and bolt your muscles. You think he hummed, and then delved in deeper.

Keeping your eyes open was a strain you were falling under.Your body fell into the arms of someone. You forgot who. But it didn't matter. Sleep and rest felt more embracing, warm, and away from the roots of reality.

The darkness, for once, was something you gladly fell into.

ﮩ٨ـﮩﮩ٨ـ♡ﮩ٨ـﮩﮩ٨ـ

The first thing you registered was the heavy ache crushing down on your neck, rippling from the bite spot and then reaching up your head and shoulder.

Everything was muffled. Silent, even. Too silent.

Peeling open your eyes, clean, grey walls shone in your surroundings, the stillness corrupting your thoughts despite the pain.

The ground was cold, and not far ahead, there was a window with a grey barrier drawn down, and the striking realisation flashed through you.

The prison cell.

With a burst of energy born out of panic, you shifted your body only to hear and feel leather and metal near your hands. Horror weighed deep in your chest at the leather cuffs around your wrists, and when you peered down at yourself, the chain coiled around your single ankle.

This was worse than you thought. Everything was going down hill, and breaking. Your sanity was unravelling from all the stress sinking into your bones, and your throat felt dry.

Shakily breathing, you fought through the web of pain gripping at every nerve and stumbled to your feet; the agony straining your neck worsened, and you weakly groaned.

The window was cold as you stumbled to it, hands landing with a thud, a futile display of fight, determination. If there was anyone listening, you didn't care. Your forehead landed there, exhausted.

“Let me g-go,” you whispered, weakly banging the glass once more, the movement sending another shot of pain to ripple from your neck and everywhere.

It wasn't just the bite spot. No. Everything was drowning. Your mother was dead as you know it, and her body was probably going to be swept away like litter; you don't know where Soobin or Taehyun were.

They were probably as good as dead.

And the other scientists? Their fates were undecided. How did it even come to this?

Tears welled in your eyes at the thought of trying to take down these vampires after everything that happened.

A rustle sounded, and the blinds went up to reveal Jungwon holding the strings with a controlled stare, as if he knew he held power over you.

Heaviness weighted in your chest, forcing your hands to weakly tap the glass again.

“Y-you monster,” you whispered but you were sure his hearing caught it. The words didn't go missed by him. He tilted his head, pinning your gaze with pleasure or amusement.

“I know. I don't need a reminder, Intern Song,” he spoke through the glass mockingly. The spark of anger twinkled in your eyes, the way your brows creased.

His gaze snapped to your neck, the dry blood staining the agonising wound, and his pupils dilated slightly before meeting your teary gaze again. 

“Now you know,” he began saying, leaning closer to the glass to display those blood crimson eyes of his. Your fists clenched as you steadied yourself on the glass, teeth grit, not being able to help the frustration twisting your face and chest. “How to be kept like a mouse in a facility, to be controlled and experimented upon.”

“We're not the s-same,” you remarked in a contempted murmur, breathless. Jungwon smirked at that, leaning his shoulder on the window after crossing his arms. The controlled demeanour, the time spent to taunt you—it all infuriated you. You wanted to strangle him.

“Exactly. We're not the same, Intern Song. Isn't that why we were kept here? I'm simply returning the favour so you can help us with something,” he explained so easily. Another spark of pleasure lit up his face when he glanced at you. “And that's helping with the venom. Like you agreed to.”

“Before your stupid b-brother bit me,” you retorted again, making him snap his cutting gaze to you.

“It's only natural, you know? It's what happens when you deprive us of what we are truly meant to consume,” he countered sharply, leaving no room to argue. Speaking of his brothers, you failed to see any of them in the lab room, and your worry returned to the surface. He sensed the sudden spike in heartbeat.

“Don't worry. They're just… having a snack here and there.” 

Tremors ran up your back, gripping your chest and making each breath ragged, shaky, and filled with anger. You grit your teeth, banging your cuffed hands on the window even more.

“You won't get away with this!” You yelled but it lacked the anger you wanted to give. It sounded desperate, as if you had lost the fight already. Jungwon didn't even blink and shrugged.

“You're not convincing anyone. Even yourself,” he said before walking to the side door, opening it and the room suddenly shifted to become unsettling and suffocating. 

His steps were easy, silent as he stalked you, and you stumbled back a bit. The chain pulled taut when you tried to distance yourself too quickly, and you fell back onto the ground, wincing when your spine tingled with pain.

The shadow of his loomed over you like a reminder of your entrapment, taunting you even more. Jungwon knelt down as you curled away but he gripped your cuffed ankle, yanking until you held yourself up by the forearms. You groaned in agony, the sensation radiating from your wound and up your skull.

“And, Intern Song, I only have so much patience with your words and actions. Quite frankly, you have exhausted me with all your escape attempts,” he said with a dangerously low voice that cut into you to prove the point. When you glanced at the ground, he pulled on your hand with a silent threat, making you meet his gaze.

“Anymore of that, and I will let each of them drain your blood until you can barely speak. Do you understand?” He warned, expecting an answer. A nod was all you could manage, but he violently shook your hand, and you cried out weakly. “I said. Do. You. Understand?”

“Y-yes,” you uttered hastily. Jungwon tilted his head, as if satisfied, let go of your hands and began to walk towards the door that led to your freedom. Before he exited completely, he turned to you over his shoulder. You tensed.

“Enjoy your time in Facility 007.”

━━━━━━━━━━━━━˚₊‧꒰ა ♡ ໒꒱‧₊˚━━━━━━━━━━━━━

— ִֶָ࣪☾. [𝐍𝐎𝐓𝐄𝐒]: so, do yall want a part 2(?). Hope you enjoyed!!

REBLOGS, LIKES+ COMMENTS are appreciated<3

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[zerocoded]

summary: your estranged grandmother left you exactly one thing in her will: a sprawling luxury apartment in the heart of seoul — the kind of place that could singlehandedly cover your entire college tuition if you ever decided to sell it. now you had a penthouse all to yourself, a pink-tiled kitchen you weirdly adored, and a hopeless, slow-burning crush on the absurdly attractive neighbor who barely looked your way.

authors note: FINALLY the vampiric side of this story is here guys. this is the first chapter of the story! woo! pls don't scold me for getting one or another term wrong, i'm just going with the flow and buildt my own lil vampire world. pls read the warnings and tags for a safe reading!

warnings and tags: THIS CHAPTER CONTAINS GRAPHIC DESCRIPTION OF VIOLENCE RIGHT AT THE BEGINNING • mentions of sex • this one is SUGGESTIVE AS HELL • dark themes such as depression, melancholy, killing • vampire!sunghoon x collegestudent!reader • gore, mentions of violence and blood • description of violence • sunsun briefly mentioned >.< • sunghoon and his complicated emotions bc he is more vampire than human • feral!sunghoon hehe • soulmate concept • horny!sunghoon i said what i said.

word count: 11.2k

previous chapters: series masterlist.

sunghoon first drank a person dry when he was seventeen — back when the world still lived with vampires walking down your street and the politics was ruled by his species. 

no secrecy, no masquerade. just power in daylight.

it was an unknown woman. someone he’d never seen before. he was freshly turned, barely aware of his own body, teeth still foreign in his mouth. and he felt horrendous. but she wasn’t a person to him then. she was food. not in a poetic, tragic, immortal thirst kind of way — just literally something to quench his throat.

he didn’t think. didn’t hesitate. just lunged. no bloodlust. no rage. just a single, selfish instinct: survive.

she didn’t scream. not that he remembered. just dropped her bag and blinked at him like maybe she recognized what he was. and maybe she did. back then, everyone still knew what vampires looked like. he drained her in minutes. no name. no face. just blood on his hands and the realization that there was no going back.

he tried to bury that memory. didn’t work. six hundred years later and she still showed up in his dreams sometimes. not to haunt him — just to exist. like a marker in time. like a before.

as the years passed, and as his human family faded into names and gravestones, the edges of his morality blurred. at first, the guilt lingered. the disgust. the need to justify. but the horror dulled with time, like anything else. he got used to it.

something that once made him sick became familiar. acceptable. survivable. humans killed too — just not usually for survival. 

sunghoon stopped feeling guilty. he stopped trying to be good. he grew stronger. he crossed the hundred-year mark still feeling seventeen — still haunted by the same impulses, still cautious around mirrors, still careful not to breathe too deep when blood was near.

he drank every day. animals. humans. bags. whatever worked.

he moved constantly — cheonan, busan, seoul. he collected names like coats. wore lives for a while, then shed them when they grew tight. he had his firsts over and over. first love. first enemy. first time someone called him a monster and meant it with kindness.

he watched his species disappear — not with fire, but with time. they stopped ruling. stopped showing up in stories. stopped walking freely under moonlight. the world modernized. vampires faded.

the old families either went into hiding or died off. the politics fell apart. the bloodlines fractured. and those who survived did so by staying quiet.

sunghoon didn’t mourn the loss. not of his species, not of the hierarchy, not of the golden era they all used to whisper about like it meant something. he didn’t care enough to. the rise and fall of vampire dynasties bored him. power came, power vanished, and no one stayed alive long enough to deserve the reverence. even those who did were too obsessed with their own myths to notice the world had moved on without them. 

sunghoon didn’t hold onto anything. not names, not allegiances, not bloodlines. he adapted. that was what kept him alive. he shrank into smaller lives, traded castles for concrete, survival for silence. learned to be quiet. learned to be still. learned to find comfort in disappearing. and it worked. for a long time, it worked.

he met sunoo first. sharp smile, sharper mind. one of the few vampires who didn’t seem to care about reverence or legacy or dramatic soliloquies on immortality. sunoo had the kind of presence that felt both impossible and familiar — like someone you dreamed about once but never met. there was something beautifully fake about him, something deliberately crafted. he wore his charm like a tailored suit, always too much, always too precise. he was born in the early 1800s, bitten at sixteen, and made the transition into darkness like he’d been preparing for it his whole life. there was no tragedy in him. no guilt. no hesitation. 

it was sunoo who brought him into the rest of the group. 

they weren’t a coven. they never said that word out loud. they didn’t swear oaths or drink each other’s blood or hold hands in the dark. it wasn’t like that. it was looser. stranger. more real. just seven vampires who understood each other well enough to stay in orbit. they didn’t pretend to be a family, but sometimes it felt like one — the dysfunctional kind, the kind where everyone was too ancient or too damaged to pretend things were normal. they watched each other’s backs. they left each other alone when it mattered. they fought, disappeared, reappeared, and didn’t explain themselves. and somehow, that was enough.

when the world got louder — faster, smaller, harder to disappear in — they found places like seonghyeon jaega. places built for ghosts. cold towers with private greenhouses and reinforced windows and high-tech silence. and they stayed. not together, not always. but close enough to feel it.

sunghoon had built his life on distance. distance from his instincts, from his past, from people. and they’d all respected that. even sunoo. even heeseung. no one ever questioned it.

sunghoon was the strongest, after all.

not just in theory. not just in the way people threw that word around like a compliment. but in the literal, biological, almost unbearable sense of it. strength seeped into his bones over centuries. sharpened with every decade he endured. the longer he existed, the more his body adjusted to the weight of time.

his senses were merciless. scent, especially — far beyond what the younger ones understood. he could isolate the copper tang of a paper cut from three floors away. he could tell what someone had eaten that day by the way their skin warmed. he could smell heartbreak if it lasted long enough.

his body, too, had changed with the years — became something more than fast, more than agile. he didn’t run anymore. he glided. his reactions came before thought. his hands moved faster than intention. his strength didn’t flex, it simply was. he carried it like breath — unspoken, constant.

and then came the others abilities. the ones that only surfaced after enough time passed that you forgot what it meant to be normal.

telekinesis came first. subtle, at first — a shift in the air, a vibration in his fingers when he wanted something without reaching. then flight, eventually. not graceful, not winged — just weightless. effortless. a quiet undoing of gravity when he wanted out. and shapeshifting, too. nothing dramatic. just mist, mostly. shadow if he focused hard enough. escape routes. distractions.

for sunghoon, taste had always been amplified — the good, unbearably rich; the bad, violently sharp. sweetness lingered longer. bitterness cut deeper. everything he consumed left an imprint, a truth he couldn’t ignore.

they weren’t powers he used often. not anymore. they were reminders. consequences. the price of age and hunger and survival layered over centuries.

feeding wasn’t necessary anymore.

not really. not in the way it used to be. the sharp, relentless hunger that once carved through his body had dulled somewhere around his five-hundredth year. it didn’t disappear — it just… faded. softened. like an instinct that no longer demanded center stage.

he still needed to live, of course. but the urgency was gone. the chase, the thrill, the aching pull beneath the ribs — all replaced by something quieter. something colder.

now, he fed out of habit. sometimes for convenience. sometimes for the novelty. rarely for the need.

going outside to hunt had become an unbearable task in the modern world — too many lights, too many cameras, too many people with opinions and phones and a tendency to notice things. it wasn’t like it used to be, when the dark belonged to him.

so sunghoon stopped pretending it did.

he drank from bags — neatly sealed, government-sanctioned, barcoded and chilled like a health product. they came once a month, delivered to the building with no name on the invoice. courtesy of the korean government, and their quiet, terrified need to keep certain residents content.

sometimes he shared prey with sunoo — the real kind, not the processed version. usually when they were bored, or irritated, or just wanted to feel something sharp again.

and sometimes he fed from partners. not often. only when the silence got too loud and he needed a body to remind him he still had one. but even that had grown rare. none of it made him feel more alive. just less human. 

sunghoon hadn’t fed for pleasure in decades.

it was too messy. too loud. too close. the intimacy of it — the weight of someone’s pulse under his hands, the vulnerability — none of it appealed to him anymore. he’d outgrown the romance of it. outgrown the myth of it. now it was just routine. bags in the fridge. a few shared moments with sunoo when the craving aligned. nothing worth remembering.

so when it happened, it caught him off guard.

not the hunger — that came later. the awareness.

it started quiet. like a wrong note in a familiar song.

he’d been tending the camellias, trimming the older petals, half-lost in the rhythm of it — when something shifted. the air. the scent. the feel of the room. subtle, but immediate. it wasn’t a change he could name, not right away. just a disturbance. a flicker of something alive in the greenhouse where nothing new was supposed to happen.

and then she spoke.

just a voice. soft. cautious. human.

it was stupid, how fast everything inside him turned. the stillness cracked. the control fractured. the distance — the one he’d spent centuries cultivating — shortened with one exhale.

he could taste you.

not literally — not yet. but it was there, hovering behind his teeth, pressed into the roof of his mouth like a memory he hadn’t earned. like instinct. like déjà vu in his blood.

and it was the same taste.

the same one he remembered from that night at seventeen, when he drank his first kill dry and realized what desperation really was.

the same taste from when he was thirty-two, tangled in the arms of a woman who claimed not to be afraid of monsters but still flinched in her sleep.

the same warmth that haunted him at fifty-five, when a stranger in lyon stroked his hair in a moment of kindness and something in him ached — deep, low, unfamiliar — because it reminded him of the mother he couldn’t picture anymore.

you carried all of it.

the echo of his first vampiric partner — the one who taught him how to survive without apology.

the sweetness of the man in busan, who kissed him like he wasn’t cold. who knew what he was and didn’t care.

the pull of that forbidden love in cheonan, quiet and soft-spoken, who whispered poetry into his collarbone and died too early.

you tasted like the chaos of his lover in the 1700s, all fire and rebellion and blood on the cuffs of her coat.

you were all of it. none of it. new, but terrifyingly familiar.

and in the greenhouse — in that too-warm air, among the bloom and steam and scent of earth — all of it came back.

too fast. too much.

he told himself it was nothing. just his mind, playing tricks. some leftover instinct bubbling up from boredom. that was the only explanation. because something so atrociously delicious — something that burned so sweet — couldn’t possibly be living just steps from his door.

he hadn’t felt hunger like that in a century. not real hunger. not the kind that started in the chest and reached the throat before he even knew he was reacting. not the kind that called to him.

so he blamed the air. the stress. the isolation. maybe the new batch of blood bags was going stale. maybe he needed to go out again. hunt properly.

he considered asking jay to take him next time — a rare gesture, since jay preferred to be left alone on those nights. but sunghoon thought, maybe, just maybe, if he fed on something live and strong, it would quiet the noise. dull the edge of it. replace you with something else.

it was logical. clinical. smart.

but it didn’t work. because every time he imagined it — fangs sinking into warm flesh, blood rushing to the surface — it wasn’t anyone else he saw.

it was you.

and that’s when he knew: this was something worse.

because this wasn’t just hunger — the kind he could soothe with a bag, or drown in routine. it wasn’t just scent or instinct or that sharp, familiar prickle at the base of his neck when prey wandered too close. it wasn’t even just the unbearable sweetness of your presence — that rare, full-bodied taste that lived somewhere between memory and desire. it was something else entirely. something he didn’t have words for, because he’d buried the language centuries ago.

it was interest. it was thrill. and it was annoyance so sharp he could feel it under his skin.

sunghoon didn’t believe in love anymore. hadn’t for a very, very long time. to him, love was a decaying superstition — overused in stories, romanticized in war, commodified by humans who lived too briefly to understand permanence. love was what people chased when they didn’t want to be alone. sunghoon chose to be alone. it was cleaner. safer. quiet.

he didn’t feel attraction, either. not in the way the younger ones still did — with their flings and fleeting obsessions, their need for touch and novelty. he’d outgrown it. or maybe it had withered. the need for someone else’s presence — their heat, their voice, their heartbeat — had dulled over time, eroded by too many years of watching everything he cared about rot or disappear.

so when you moved into the apartment across the hall — all warm blood and curious glances and too many layers of clothing — he didn’t think twice. he didn’t feel pulled. he felt tired. and every time he passed your door in the hallway, he waited for you to vanish from his awareness. for your scent to fade. for you to just become another tenant — faceless, nameless, unimportant.

but you didn’t.

you lingered.

not just in the air. in him. and he hated that.

he started avoiding you. sidestepping your presence. changing his routine so he would focus on anything else. he flinched at the echo of your voice behind elevator doors and held his breath when your perfume — subtle and frustratingly pleasant — drifted under his doorway. 

he didn’t say a word about it. didn’t ask if the others noticed. didn’t dare to ask. he kept it to himself like something shameful. a sickness.

and for the whole first week you had moved there, he believed it was working.

until niki started talking.

he heard it one evening — a quiet conversation in the kitchen when the others thought he was still out feeding. jake and niki, laughing under their breath, trying to be discreet. 

niki talked about your voice first. said there was something magnetic in the way you made silence feel like a choice, not an absence. he talked about your sarcasm — how you never laughed at your own jokes, how sometimes you didn’t even realize you were being funny. he mentioned the way you dressed like someone who had more opinions than money, and how somehow, it worked.

he didn’t say anything about your scent. nothing about the weight of your presence or the blood moving under your skin. he didn’t mention how the air changed when you walked by.

he just talked like a boy. about a girl. like it was simple. like it was normal.

and that’s when sunghoon knew something was wrong. not because niki noticed you — that was inevitable, niki noticed everything, but because he didn’t.

niki didn’t feel what sunghoon felt. didn’t hear the blood singing in his ears or taste the sweetness of you on the back of his tongue long after you’d left the room. didn’t freeze when you got too close. didn’t panic.

and sunghoon… was panicking.

at first, he told himself it was impossible. that the universe wouldn’t be cruel enough to tie his eternity to someone born in the 2000s. someone with a chipped bear mug and a towel on her head and a habit of walking into greenhouses like she owned the place.

and then there was the concept itself — the one he never believed in.

soulmates.

ridiculous. sentimental. dangerous.

and yet — completely normal in the supernatural world.

soulmates weren’t some rare, mythical occurrence like humans liked to believe. in their world, they were common. at least, they used to be.

before the silence. before the erasure. back when supernatural creatures still roamed openly, before treaties and hiding, before blood was something you stored in fridges and rationed like guilt — soulmates happened all the time. like instinct. like gravity.

wolves found theirs by scent. witches felt theirs in magic. banshees heard them in dreams. but vampires… vampires were different.

they were cursed with choice.

vampiric soulmates didn’t always arrive the way you expected. sometimes it was another vampire, older or younger, someone who understood the ache of eternity. that was easy. manageable. sustainable. other times, it was a witch, or a shifter, or something else born with power under their skin.

but sometimes — cruelly, unfairly — it was a human. and that’s when things got complicated.

because when the bond chose a human, the vampire did not remain unchanged. the body noticed first. the blood stirred. the senses sharpened to the point of madness. the human’s scent became an aria that clung to the throat. their heartbeat a metronome echoing through the vampire’s ribs like a drumline of need. their skin, their breath, their presence — all of it turned into a feast. and the vampire? they starved.

it wasn’t love. not at first. it was hunger. it was obsession. it was the frantic animal urge to claim, to taste, to own. vampires who prided themselves on centuries of refinement, of control, of superiority — they cracked like porcelain. they stopped feeding on others. they stopped sleeping. they stopped thinking. because the human was there, near, just a wall away, just a hallway down, just breathing, and that was enough to undo the very nature of their existence.

and the shame of it — oh, the shame — came in the way they enjoyed it.

the bond made them stronger. faster. lethal in a way no age or training ever had. the moment they touched their soulmate, truly felt them, the vampire became a weapon without mercy. not for conquest, but for protection. not to dominate the world, but to shelter one fragile life from it. they became beasts with only one commandment: keep them alive. keep them yours.

and what made it worse — what twisted the knife — was that the vampire knew, in the deepest, most ancient part of themselves, that the human would never truly understand. that they would never feel the full gravity of what they were holding. because how could they? they bled. they aged. they forgot things. they broke.

and still, the vampire craved them.

not just their blood — though that alone was euphoric, enough to knock centuries of memory into silence — but their laugh. their thoughts. the way they frowned when concentrating. the way they cried during movies they’d already seen. the way they didn’t realize they were powerful now — that they owned something ancient and merciless.

vampires were gods, once.

and humans soulmates turned them into worshippers.

sunghoon hadn’t even tasted you, and yet he already knew: it would ruin him.

because soulmate blood wasn’t just a metaphor. it wasn’t poetry. it wasn’t some romantic nonsense about desire and devotion. it was real. measurable. chemical. old-world biology twisted into something unholy and precise.

sunghoon had studied it once, long ago, when he still cared about knowledge more than survival. soulmate blood showed different under glass. more viscous. warmer. magnetic in a way even witches couldn't explain. the pheromonal imprint changed. the plasma shimmered differently under fluorescent light. some vampires said they could see colors in it — taste seasons, hear songs, dream in languages they didn’t speak.

and the taste? that was the part no one could put into words.

it didn’t just satisfy hunger. it rewired need. 

to drink from a soulmate was euphoric. addictive. like swallowing starlight or touching the divine. for some, it drove them mad. for others, it made them human again — briefly. terrifyingly. because it reminded them of what they could no longer be.

in yang jungwon’s coven, they didn’t talk about soulmates.

not really. not openly. but the silence spoke loud enough. and sometimes, in the late hours — when the halls of seonghyeon jaega were too still, and someone had drunk a little too much, or remembered a little too sharply — the whispers came.

the stories starts to spill from their lips: sunoo had fallen once. a witch, born in the 1900s, with eyes like stormlight and a voice that could lull even the most vicious hunger into sleep. her magic was soft — never explosive, never aggressive — just constant.

she made him laugh in ways no one else could. she loved him without fear. but she didn’t have what he had. no eternity. no second chance. and so sunghoon watched as his closest friend loved her through her aging, her illness, her final breath. sunoo never let anyone see him cry, but after she was buried, he didn’t speak for three years. sunghoon used to curse their species for it. curse the gift of forever. it wasn’t kindness. it was cruelty — to outlive love like his friend had.

park jongseong treated love like it was entertainment. a game to be played, to be won, to be discarded. he had centuries of admirers — humans and otherwise — who fell too fast, too hard. he let them. but once, long ago, even jay had a weakness. a girl. small, bright, unbearably soft. she adored him. never questioned what he was. loved him like he was a boy, not a monster. and jay, terrified of what he might do to her — of what loving her back would turn him into — left her in the winter of 1932. sunghoon remembered the exact date. jay never said her name again.

jungwon came from bloodlines. royal ones. one of the last remnants of the ancient vampire dynasties, before the fall, before secrecy. he’d been introduced to a partner at an early age — one chosen by elders, meant to preserve power, keep legacies intact. but jungwon never settled. never loved. he preferred chaos. death. the rush of power over the burden of tradition. his soulmate, if he ever had one, was lost to the flames of his own defiance.

niki — niki was different. too wild. too fast. too full of hunger for life in all the wrong places. love didn’t interest him. not in the eternal sense. not when there were clubs and rooftops and neon lights. he didn’t need anyone to complete him. he had himself. and that was enough.

and then there was jake.

jake had found his soulmate.

six years ago, he left for busan and came back with a girl — soft-spoken, bright-eyed, her pulse loud in the quiet. she followed him everywhere. touched his wrist when she spoke. called him “angel” like it was his real name. and jake… jake melted. he didn’t feed around her. didn’t hunt. he carried her bags and kissed her hands and swore he’d never turn her unless she begged him to. and even then, he wasn’t sure. they were still deciding. the idea of taking eternity from her — or forcing it onto her — made his voice shake.

heeseung had a soulmate too, once. long before sunghoon met him. he never said much about her. just that she was gentle. curious. loved painting. she grew old beside him. wrinkle by wrinkle. white hair. slower steps. he didn’t stop her. he didn’t turn her. he let her choose. and she chose time. chose humanity. sunghoon never asked why. only knew that when she died — when she was just bones in a silk dress — something in heeseung went with her. he was never the same.

so no, they didn’t talk about soulmates. but they all knew what it meant.

and sunghoon, for the first time in centuries, was beginning to suspect he had one.

and she lived across the hall.

he wasn’t about to ignore all the signs. sunghoon was tired, but not stupid.

he knew exactly what was about to happen the moment niki crossed the threshold, all casual arrogance and thinly veiled delight. heeseung barely looked up from his book, but sunghoon clocked it immediately — the way niki’s hoodie smelled different, the way his steps dragged with satisfaction, the way his eyes flicked to sunghoon a second too long.

he had disappeared for half an hour. no warning, no real excuse. left with a half-broken cable in his hand like he was on a righteous tech mission, like any of them gave a fuck about that printer anyway. sunghoon didn’t ask where he was going — didn’t have to. he had heard him go.

he had counted each step niki made to your door. heard the hesitant knock, your voice on the other side — sweet, amused, a little annoyed. a voice that didn’t match the heartbeat he could now recite from memory. your pulse had been steady. bored, even. like niki’s lies weren’t working this time.

sunghoon scoffed in the dark, the sound barely a breath. it didn’t matter what niki said. what mattered was the way your presence lingered in the hallway now — your scent soaked into the fabric of niki’s sleeves, the warmth of your laugh echoing against stone and glass. you hadn’t laughed like that for him. not yet.

he hated that he cared.

he hated that he was standing in the middle of their shared living room, staring at the threshold like something sacred had just been defiled. and most of all, he hated that part of him wanted to be the one defiling it. not with lies. not with excuses. but with something real. something sharp and final.

at that moment, sunghoon didn’t react. not with words. not with a glare. just stood there, quiet and cold, as the younger vampire disappeared into the hallway with a lazy wave announcing he was about to take a shower.

sunghoon didn’t move. didn’t breathe. didn’t even responded the boy.

the air in his lungs felt stuck, like smoke in a sealed room. it curled up his throat and clung to his tongue. the scent hadn’t faded yet. it was stronger now, fresh — clinging to the sleeves of niki’s hoodie, his fingertips, his neck. your scent was alive in the room. too alive. like a pulse under his skin.

sunghoon didn’t acknowledge the coldness spreading through his fingers at first. didn’t allow himself to look at the door or trace the last place your voice echoed in the hallway. he stood still, spine straight, gaze blank — because if he moved, even a little, he was going to shatter something.

it had only been two weeks. not even a full month since you entered their lives like a joke. like a trick of fate. like a test.

you were a human, for fuck’s sake.

fragile. absurd. beautiful in a way that made his hunger ache. you walked around their building like you didn’t belong to anyone. like the air didn’t follow you, like your blood wasn’t loud in your veins.

he made himself still for a whole minute. exactly sixty seconds, counted like a punishment — each one pressed down into his bones as if restraint could be measured by silence alone. his spine stayed rigid against the back of the sofa, arms locked to his sides, legs twitching just barely beneath the faded blanket thrown across him. he could hear the others still moving in the apartment — water running, a faint door closing, jake’s voice low through the wall — but none of it anchored him.

he tried to count past the ache, to focus on the ambient hum of the building — electricity in the wiring, the gentle creak of the heater, even the uneven rhythm of niki’s too-heavy steps heading into the shower — but none of it drowned out the sound of you. not in his blood. not in his head.

he curled his fingers once, twice, then exhaled a long, cold breath.

then he moved.

pulled a hoodie over his shirt. didn’t bother checking the time. didn’t think about what he’d say if someone saw him. his body moved on instinct — one step, then another, across the polished floors of seonghyeon jaega. no hesitation. no excuses. just silence and purpose and something sharp curling inside his ribs.

he told himself it was a walk. nothing more.

a breath of air. a reset. he told himself the greenhouse was still his — technically. and if you were there… well. that was just coincidence.

he was lying, of course.

but he crossed the threshold anyway.

his hand on the glass door. your scent already thicker than the oxygen. and still — he stepped inside.

knowing exactly what he was doing.

—— 

you were already there. of course you were.

tucked between the vines like you belonged. standing in front of the floor to ceiling glass, completely unaware of the storm you’d just invited in. the glass above you fogged faintly from the cold — january pressing soft breath into the air — and the plants around you seemed to lean in, conspiratorial, as if they too were listening.

sunghoon didn’t move at first.

he stood in the doorway, jaw tight, breath shallow, watching the way the light brushed your cheekbones. it was the soft kind of light — golden, filtered through the greenhouse glass and filtered again by the pale warmth of the moon outside. it kissed your skin like it knew you were loved.

and you smelled like everything he wasn’t supposed to want.

not just blood. not just a craving. you smelled like memory. like heat. like something that had always belonged to him, even if he hadn’t known it until now.

sunghoon hated it, this feeling, this neediness. he found it ridiculous, weak. it made him scoff and go insane because of the fact that these feelings even belonged to him in the first place. he hadn’t exactly ignored you before, but this felt like the first time he was seeing you. 

your hair was healthy, untouched by bleach or heat, the kind that held shine even in cheap lighting. your skin looked like it had never met stress — no deep lines, no breakouts, no strain. but there was something else too. something more honest beneath the surface.

you moved like someone who’d known work. like someone who’d carried weight too early. your body held the kind of tired grace that came from long days and quiet sacrifices — not the aesthetic kind, but the real, human kind. melancholy clung to you in places only someone who had known wars could notice. the corners of your mouth. the pause between your jokes. the softness behind your sarcasm.

you were healthy. he noticed that first — in the flush of your skin, in the steadiness of your breath, in the light pressure of your footsteps next to him. it hit him in strange, unspoken ways: the kind of observation that should’ve passed as mundane, but didn’t.

and he felt… giddy. embarrassingly so. at the knowledge that you were alright. that you weren’t frail. that your blood ran strong. that you didn’t smell like rot or fatigue or sadness.

he was happy you were healthy.

or at least it seemed.

and that alone was enough to make his mind spiral. because what kind of creature — what kind of predator — stood perfectly still in the hallway of his own greenhouse, hoodie half-zipped, smiling quietly to himself just because his neighbor’s pulse beat in the right tempo?

he should’ve been alarmed.

instead, he let the warmth settle. a selfish, possessive warmth. like he’d just discovered something worth guarding.

here you were, in an overused coat that looked two sizes too big, maybe not even yours. collar slightly torn. threadbare at the sleeves. probably something inherited or borrowed or stolen from a roommate.

you didn’t match the scenery — that luxury glass room, the curated flora, the eerie stillness — and yet you made it all feel like yours.

and that was what made sunghoon pause.

for the first time in centuries, he felt interested.

he saw you before you saw him. your silhouette cast in soft golden light, hunched near the orchids like you were afraid to break something, like you were trespassing in a church. it made something tighten in his chest. 

sunghoon opened the greenhouse door and let it fall shut behind him with purpose. not loud enough to startle, but loud enough to be known. to make himself visible. audible. present. you turned immediately. 

your eyes found him fast, then dropped just as quick. the wave of surprise on your face was quickly drowned in embarrassment, your posture straightening, hands suddenly awkward. like you'd been caught stealing something. like he had the right to punish you for it.

he hated that the thought made him feel powerful.

he should’ve left.

but he didn’t.

he stood under the arch of ivy with his hoodie sleeves rolled up and his eyes trained on you, and tried not to breathe too deeply. because even from here, he could already smell you.

"sorry that i’m trespassing again," you said. self-deprecating. lighthearted. all nerve and bravado. he didn't answer at first. not because he was angry. not even because he wanted to intimidate you. but because he didn’t trust his voice to come out human.

you turned your back to him like it was no big deal. like you hadn’t just stumbled into a landmine. like you weren’t carrying that scent.

he watched you pretend to care about the view — the skyline stretched beyond the glass panels, city lights blinking like tired stars, pale against the winter-dark sky. your arms crossed loosely, like you were trying to appear casual, but your fingers fidgeted near your sleeve, tugging at loose threads. he could tell you were stalling. buying time. saving face. and he let you.

later you spoke again. softly. something about how you hadn’t noticed this side of the greenhouse the night before. how it was beautiful.

he agreed.

but not in the way you meant.

because the skyline didn’t make his hands itch. the frost on the rooftops didn’t make his throat dry. it wasn’t the curvature of the city that kept pulling his eyes back to you.

it was the way your heartbeat slowed as you talked — no longer startled, just steady, like a drum muffled under layers of warm fabric and fragile bone. sunghoon could hear it. could feel it. a muted cadence, too human, too easy to track. he didn’t need to see your veins to know where they ran; he could sense the trail of heat beneath your skin, each artery drawing delicate maps along your neck and wrists and the soft bend of your elbow.

again, his eyes locked on your neck — the dip just below your jaw where the pulse beat steady and exposed. it was the same spot he’d noticed yesterday, the same one that had tested his control ever since.

sunghoon noticed you trying to make small talk.

"you can keep coming here, if you like," he said, eyes flicking to the orchids. "it’s nice during winter."

you glanced at him over your shoulder, moonlight brushing your eyes like silver paint, catching just enough to make them glint — almost like a spark. "is this special treatment because i became friends with one of your roommates?"

he tilted his head, slow and deliberate. "are you talking about riki?" 

"riki? i swear it was niki." you said innocently.

god, even the sound of another name — even if it belonged to his little brother — sliding from your mouth made something primal stir beneath his skin. it was stupid, ridiculous, but his throat still tightened, jaw clenching with the effort not to react.

sunghoon laughed. a soft sound, almost accidental, but real. it cracked something in the silence — made the space warmer, brighter, like a sliver of dawn sneaking past blackout curtains. his canines caught the light when he smiled, sharp and white, and he didn’t miss the way a flicker of tension rippled down your spine. 

his first instinct was to pull it back, to school his expression into something safer, quieter — hide the very obvious reminder of what he was. but his stupid predator side? it liked the way you startled. liked it too much.

"yes, niki," he said. "he goes by that too. he’s… troublesome. don’t fall for his traps."

"thanks for the concern, but i think it’s too late. he literally invaded my apartment earlier today."

he raised a brow, all practiced nonchalance — pretending he didn’t already know. pretending he hadn’t counted the exact number of seconds riki stood outside your door. pretending he hadn’t listened to the entire conversation through the walls, his cursed hearing tuned perfectly to the sound of your voice.

"printer emergency," you added, like that explained everything.

sunghoon’s mouth twitched — the smallest shift, the closest he ever got to amused acceptance. "sounds like him."

you nodded, then hesitated. he noticed, of course. he always noticed. you were proud of something — proud of surviving the conversation, proud that he hadn’t told you to leave yet. 

again, all of your reactions were almot alluring to him. unbearably so. everything you did — the way your mouth moved when you talked, the rhythm of your breathing, the subtle raise of your brow when you got bold — it lodged itself somewhere beneath his skin like glass. 

sunghoon tucked his hands into the pocket of his hoodie, a quiet attempt at restraint, fingers curling tightly around fabric like it would keep him grounded.

he kept his distance — always. two feet, at least. just far enough that he wouldn’t feel the brush of your scent, the accidental graze of your plasma. just far enough that he could pretend he wasn’t seconds from falling apart.

not just your perfume, or the soft shampoo that clung to your hair. he could smell your blood — rich, warm, devastating. he could feel the way it called to him, ancient and undeniable, wrapping invisible hands around his body and dragging. it settled into his ribs like a bruise. pressed against his shoulders like weight. coiled low in his stomach like something shameful. 

just standing here — just existing in the same space as you — was enough to make him crumble.

you didn’t even realize it. didn’t see the way his gaze followed the shift of your shoulders, the tilt of your head, the way your fingertips brushed against petals like you were asking them for permission. you walked slowly, aimlessly, but there was something reverent in it — a quiet grace, like you instinctively knew this place mattered. like the night recognized you. your hands ghosted over the camellias, the ones he’d planted in silence, one by one, over years that stretched longer than any human lifetime should. 

he didn’t move. didn’t even blink. the air between you stayed untouched, his body locked in place as if the slightest shift would shatter whatever fragile thing this was. he watched the way you crouched to smell a bloom he nearly lost to frost last winter. you looked at it like it was a miracle. like it was new. no one had ever looked at his flowers like that — heck, no one has even visited this place before before you.

sunghoon saw the way the moonlight hit your skin — soft and pale and impossibly radiant — like you weren’t part of this world at all. 

he watched the rhythm of your steps. the slight sway of your hoodie. he watched your pulse quicken as you spoke again.

"do you all live here? for how long?"

he didn’t answer immediately. the question felt too close to truth.

you turned slightly, just enough to glance over your shoulder, to check if he was listening — and of course he was. he hadn’t moved. still half-shadowed beneath the overgrown ivy, posture relaxed in that practiced way of his, like someone who knew how to stay unnoticed even while watching everything.

"a while," he said. vague. distant. safe.

"like... years?"

"give or take."

"that’s not an answer."

he knew that. obviously. he wasn’t trying to lie — just stretch the silence in a way that would make you tilt your head like that. and maybe push you a little. he liked the way you challenged him without realizing. like you hadn’t decided if you were interrogating him or flirting. like maybe you thought you could do both.

"it’s the only one you’re getting."

he saw the way your mouth twitched before the smile broke through — a flash of amusement that pinched the corners of your eyes. you weren’t fooled. you knew he was dodging the question, and you didn’t mind. 

"you’re worse than niki at evading questions. are you all like this?"

he almost smiled. almost. you were tenacious. dangerously so — the kind of sharp that slipped in gently before anyone realized they were bleeding. his hands, finally, slipped out of his hoodie pocket, fingers flexing like he’d only just remembered they were there. he brushed a piece of ivy from his sleeve, buying time, trying not to look too entertained.

"maybe it’s a roommate requirement."

"what, like a quiz? ‘how mysterious are you on a scale from 1 to dramatic rooftop monologue’?"

this time, he let the smile come. small. subtle. but there. it didn’t reach his eyes — not fully — but it was real.

"you’d fail."

"rude."

"you talk too much."

"and you brood too much. balance."

he looked down, shaking his head like he didn’t know how you kept getting away with this — poking at the edges of him like it was a game. the tension that usually sat stiff along his spine eased, just slightly. your words untied it like warm fingers at a knot.

"actually, you’re the one who should be asking questions," you challenged, turning to face him completely now, voice bolder than before. "i got here first."

he blinked. caught off guard by your logic, your shift in tone. you bent down mid-sentence, plucking a dead leaf off the path and crumpling it gently between your fingers without even thinking. he noticed that. the softness in your habits. the strange, unconscious claim you were making on the space.

"trespassing doesn’t count as arrival." he said.

"semantics," you said. "i was emotionally distressed. that grants me squatters’ rights."

he exhaled — a quiet breath, not quite a laugh, not quite a sigh. something in between.

"you’re unbelievable." sunghoon added.

"and yet, here you are," you said, waving a hand lazily between you. "still talking to me. maybe you’re the crazy one."

he looked at your hand as it dropped back to your side, then glanced at the distance between you — yes, he was the crazy one for sure. 

he didn’t answer. didn’t deny it. just watched you with that steady, unreadable look — the kind that made you feel like he was seeing things you hadn’t even figured out about yourself yet.

"do you always go out with your pink phone case?" sunghoon wasn’t exactly skilled at small talk — never had to be. most of the time, his looks did the work long before words were needed. but he wanted to try this out with you, to see how further you could go with bickering.

you frozed visibly and sunghoon found that cute, again. your body went still like a deer clocking danger, and for a second, he wondered if you’d bolt.

"wait, you noticed that?"

"hard to miss." his voice was calm, neutral — but there was something else behind it, something amused. he was, indeed, curious about your fashion tendencies and strange personality — he never met someone like this before.

your mouth opened, then shut again. the fluster was almost adorable. "it’s for the aesthetics. i like pink."

he hummed low in his throat, and the sound felt less like a judgment and more like he was filing that away. sunghoon was cataloguing you the same way he catalogued the orchids — by color, by softness, by how long they might last if left alone.

"don’t make that face."

"i didn’t make a face." he, in fact, knew he made a face.

"you did. very i-expected-black-but-of-course-it’s-pink."

he tilted his head slightly, eyes dragging down the length of you in an unhurried glance — not invasive, not flirtatious. just curious. deliberate. actually, a little flirtatious. sunghoon was having fun with your ridiculous attraction to bickering.

"i expected lavender, actually."

"do i give off lavender vibes?"

he didn’t answer right away. just kept looking — one slow pass over your frame, then back to your face, where his gaze settled like a weight.

"sometimes. but mostly… chaotic rose gold." he should’ve said red. the most beautiful red he’d ever seen — vivid, warm, almost fluorescent under moonlight. but he didn’t. he couldn’t explain that to you — not without unraveling everything. not without telling you what his eyes really saw beneath that old coat you wore like armor.

the way your blood moved, the way it pulsed — bright and alive and maddening. if he said it out loud, he was certain he’d scare you off.

you squinted at him. "that’s not a real vibe."

"it is now." god — he wished he could shut you up sometimes, make you stop asking stupid questions, put your mouth to better use. 

"you just made that up," you bickered, eyes narrowing with playful defiance.

"it’s a pretty color," he replied, quieter this time.

you blinked. the pause that followed was short but sharp. "are you calling me pretty?" of course that was your question. of course your brain went there. always halfway between a joke and something that might be real if said twice.

sunghoon almost laughed. not out loud — he didn’t do that often — but the impulse flickered in his chest like static. 

fuck pretty. you were beautiful in the kind of way that made language feel inadequate. he hadn’t yet found a color — or a century — that could match your particular brand of aphrodisiac ridiculousness. and still, instead of saying any of that, he did what he always did. he teased. because it was easier. because you were entertaining as hell. because the way you reacted was worth it.

"no."

"that’s rude."

"you should be at your apartment." he should’ve been in his too. should’ve walked away minutes ago, maybe hours. but he was too stubborn. too weak when it came to you. and entirely too invested in the way your mouth dipped into a small, exaggerated pout. like you knew what it did to him and were daring him to admit it.

"are you saying i’m ugly, then?"

he raised a brow, slow and deliberate — like even he couldn’t believe he was still making conversation with you. and honestly? he couldn’t. he was, in fact, in full disbelief.

“beauty is about preferences. you can think a flower is pretty, but someone else might think it’s not the best.”

you stared at him. unblinking. deadpan. the silence stretched long enough to be comical. "are you a walking inspirational monologue coach? is that your side hustle? why are you always showing up late at night like some poetic batman?"

he didn’t respond right away — just lifted his gaze, slowly, toward the ceiling above you both. the glass was fogged around the edges with condensation, the moonlight blurry and pale through it. it reflected faintly in his eyes. "plants prefer quiet," he said, almost like an afterthought. "and so do i."

"you’re so weird."

he didn’t flinch at the word. didn’t take it as an insult. if anything, the edge of his mouth twitched — just enough to make you wonder if maybe he liked being called that.

you moved like you didn’t belong, and yet, like everything around you bent to accommodate your presence. sunghoon watched in silence as your fingers traced the rim of a ceramic pot, your steps soundless over the tiled floor, like the greenhouse had decided you were welcome. there was something deeply unsettling about it — how gently you treated the space, how you smiled at nothing in particular, how your eyes flicked from vine to orchid like you were cataloguing beauty for the first time. he’d lived here for decades, and still, he’d never looked at this place the way you just had in the past minute.

he tracked the way your coat swung with your movement — that oversized, frayed thing that should’ve made you look disheveled, careless. but it didn’t. it made you look soft. careful. something cherished. and in that moment, sunghoon hated that he noticed. hated the heat that pooled beneath his skin just from watching you exist. it wasn’t just attraction. not quite. it was deeper, quieter, more dangerous — a kind of reverence. he was memorizing the curve of your jaw, the hollow of your throat, the way the faint glow of a heat lamp kissed your skin like it belonged to you. 

you stopped to lean over a low bed of succulents, muttering something under your breath. maybe you were reading the labels. maybe you were talking to the plants. maybe you were just breathing. sunghoon had no idea — he couldn’t care to hear it, too focused on the way your pulse ticked softly under your skin. 

his eyes wandered upward, pulled by the shift in the air and the sudden realization that he was staring like a creep. 

outside, the night had thickened into a velvet navy, the moon hanging low and unbothered. stars dotted the sky in fractured patterns, and the light pollution did little to mute their defiance. he tilted his head, just slightly. 

he found himself walking toward the far side of the room, where the glass stretched from floor to ceiling, framing the city in one perfect, crystalline cut.

this was where you had stood when he first saw you tonight — silhouetted against the skyline, as if you’d stepped straight out of a dream. he reached the glass and stood there, hands in his pockets, staring at the cityscape below. buildings pulsed with neon veins, cars like blood cells tracing glowing arteries. it was alive in its own way. chaotic. overwhelming. and yet, for the first time in what felt like years, sunghoon didn’t feel like the outsider looking in.

sunghoon didn’t register the silence at first.

the city beyond the glass pulled at him like an old memory, something bright and sad and too loud for his thoughts. below him, seoul pulsed like a living thing — all light trails and blinking signs and buildings reaching up like they were trying to touch the stars. and there he stood, centuries old, hands buried in his hoodie, jaw clenched against a world that had outgrown him in a thousand ways. and still, he watched. still, he breathed. still, he remembered the curve of your voice as you spoke just minutes ago.

your words looped in his head, ridiculous and youthful. “semantics. i was emotionally distressed. that grants me squatters’ rights.” 

you spoke like you didn’t care who was listening. like you had nothing to lose. like the world had never tried to kill you for the way you laughed. you sounded like someone who still believed people were good. and for all his control, for all his hunger, that part — that unbreakable faith in your tone — made something crack in his chest.

you were young. not just in body — but in spirit. in rhythm. everything about you screamed 2000s baby. your banter came fast and offbeat, the kind of sarcasm that trailed internet culture and late-night jokes. sunghoon had been born in a time when people bled for less. when language was stiff and precise, when words were weapons. you, on the other hand, used yours like water — splashing around, not caring who got wet.

he tilted his head slightly, gaze still fixed on the glittering mess of lights below. it wasn’t fair, the way you got under his skin so quickly. talking to you wasn’t just conversation — it was a kind of test. you teased without cruelty. you challenged without threat.

sunghoon blinked slowly, the city’s lights still dancing in his vision like fireflies under glass. the silence had settled comfortably around him, thick and undisturbed.

he had been so deeply entangled in his own thoughts — in the skyline, in your voice echoing faintly in his mind — that he didn’t notice the shift in air. didn’t register your footsteps, soft and deliberate, until your presence was suddenly there beside him, pressing at the edge of his senses like a silent warning.

he inhaled. finally. deeply. and then stilled.

it hit him all at once.

your scent.

too close.

he blinked, startled, as if waking up from a deep sleep. his senses sharpened immediately — pupils contracting, spine pulling taut, fingers curling faintly. he hadn’t heard your footsteps. hadn’t felt your breath. you were still a whole foot away — not even brushing against him — and yet, it didn’t matter. the scent of you wrapped around his skull like smoke, like a perfume laced with venom.

copper and honey. lightning and softness. heat and blood.

it hit him like a storm — not the kind that screamed through windows, but the kind that crept beneath skin.

his pupils dilated instantly. not just with hunger — no, this wasn’t just thirst. this was desire. shameful and uninvited. it coiled in his gut like something ancient and unholy. his breath caught in his throat, like oxygen itself had become too thick to inhale. he tasted your blood on his tongue and you weren’t even touching him. 

his nose twitched. he winced. and then the worst part: the step back. one, two, three — four. fast and clumsy. like shame. like retreat. like he needed to put the world between your body and his instincts. he hated that he moved like that. hated how vulnerable it made him feel.

but it wasn’t pain he wore on his face. not really. it was something worse.

temptation.

you smelled like warmth. like heat under skin. like all the fairytales about vampires and their soulmates. blood moving fast through delicate veins. and it wasn’t just hunger clawing at him now — it was arousal, low and dirty in his belly.

“are you okay?” you asked — voice soft, unsure, but to him it rang like a bell through fog. it echoed in his head, ricocheting off the walls of his skull because his senses were heightened tenfold now. 

you should be worried about yourself — about your safety.

if you could see even a fraction of the things sunghoon was thinking, god, you’d run. not walk — run. you’d leave the greenhouse, the building, the city, maybe even the country. he wouldn’t blame you. because right now, his mind was split down the middle: half man, half monster. both wanted you.

he wanted to do things to you that had no business being thought about this close to midnight. things with his hands, with his mouth, with his teeth. he knew every way he could break you — every point of weakness, every place you’d shudder and sigh and cry if he so much as grazed the surface.

and the worst part? he could do it. right now.

he was stronger. faster. older than empires. and every part of him knew it. his muscles twitched with power. his fangs ached. his throat burned. you — soft, warm, real — were within reach. and all he had to do was move.

sunghoon didn’t answer your question right away.

he couldn’t. his mouth wasn’t ready to form words — not that kind of words. not the kind you deserved.

he was still staring. still breathing like he’d sprinted across the city just to get here. lungs full of fire, throat dry with restraint. his jaw flexed once, then again, the muscle ticking as if it might hold him together. but it didn’t. nothing could. not with you standing there like that — oblivious to the fact that you’d just shattered centuries of control with nothing but your scent.

he was trying to be still. trying to be good. but his body wasn’t listening. his tongue flicked out across his bottom lip, slow and distracted, the motion instinctive, like he was tasting the air — tasting you.

fuck, he could taste you right now.

his fangs had dropped without warning. he didn’t even need to check. he felt them. his irises, too — they must’ve flared, because your own expression flickered.

“you should go,” he rasped — but what he meant was: run.

because every inch of him was thrumming. wired. starving.

he was trying so fucking hard to be good. to stand there like a man, not a creature. to act like your blood wasn’t singing to him — not just calling, but begging.

you had no idea what you looked like through his eyes. skin flushed from the walk. pulse fluttering like a trapped thing beneath your throat. lips slightly parted in concern. the scent of your shampoo tangled with your warmth and that heat under your skin — god, the heat — and all he could think about was sinking into it. tasting it. claiming it.

you stood a single step too close, and it undid him. his hands clenched into fists at his sides, nails biting into his palms to keep himself still, to keep himself honest.

“did i… do something wrong?” your voice echoed in his empty chest. 

he could hear your heartbeat.

not just hear it — feel it.

a wet, rhythmic echo behind his teeth, and his fangs were already halfway descended. he could taste his own venom. it burned.

“no,” he said, forcing a breath through clenched teeth. “it’s not you. it’s me.”

sunghoon could see you hesitating, your fingers curling slightly at your sides. “do you want me to call niki? or a medic? are you sure you’re alright?”

his name. he wanted to hear you say his name.

not because it would soothe him, but because it would break him completely — and god, wasn’t that what he deserved?

your voice echoed in his skull, soft and round with concern, and it only made things worse. did he want you to call niki? a medic? like you were the one worrying for him, when he was the thing you should be running from.

for a moment, sunghoon wanted to shove his hands into his own chest and claw the desire out.

but instead, he stood still — burning from the inside out — every sense tuned to you and only you. he could hear the blood moving in your veins like a river; he could see it, nearly, that strange fluorescence he’d always been able to conjure, glowing beneath your skin in hypnotic rhythm. you were illuminated from the inside, and fuck, it was unfair. you didn’t even know what you were doing to him.

was it like this for other vampires?

were they reduced to this? weak? delirious? painfully, achingly aroused over a single step too close?

because his desire was already straining in his pants, aching against the tightness of denim, and all because you smelled like jasmine and clean sheets and sugar-drenched blood. all because your concern made his stomach turn in a way he couldn’t define — like he wanted to hurt you and worship you in the same breath.

he couldn’t look at you anymore.

couldn’t bear the confusion in your eyes, the slight tremble in your fingers.

so his voice came out shredded, low and coarse, every word a forced exhale through sharpened teeth.

“please. you can leave already.”

“should i go find one of your roommates?” he saw you take a step forward. a small one. cautious. maybe kind. maybe stupid. and his body snapped.

the moment you moved, the moment your scent hit him like that — stirred and fresh and closer — it was like someone had struck a match inside his skull. his back arched slightly, chest tightening, fangs dragging painfully against the inside of his mouth. his jaw clenched so hard it creaked.

“fuck—” he spat, the word seething through his teeth. “just stay right there. don’t move.”

and god, the sound of it — the command in his own voice — it only made the fire burn hotter.

his hands were trembling. actually trembling. like a boy in a fever dream, like something shameful. his fingers twitched with the urge to grab, to press, to taste. to see if you were as soft and warm and wet as he imagined. and he hated himself for it. hated the way he looked at you like prey. like a puzzle. like an offering.

you froze — and for a moment, he wanted to thank you. for listening. for not pushing him over the edge.

but you just stood there, breathing, and that alone was too much. the rhythm of your pulse in the air. the curl of your fingers. the way your mouth parted ever so slightly — not out of fear, no, but confusion. like you were still trying to understand what kind of creature was unraveling before your eyes.

“please,” he said again, the word shredding in his throat. raw. needy.

it was the closest he’d ever come to begging in his entire immortal life.

and still, you didn’t speak. didn’t scream. didn’t run. you just nodded — slow, careful — and stepped back, one inch at a time, the door calling your name behind you.

he watched every second of it.

you nodded. backed away. left. finally.

sunghoon felt the slightest flicker of relief the moment he heard it — the soft, clean click of the door shutting behind you. then, seconds later, the metallic chime of the elevator. gone. safe. away from him.

he could breathe again. not well — but enough. his lungs filled too fast, too shallow, as if they weren’t made for it anymore.

but the relief was fleeting. already splintering.

because now that you were gone, now that you were out of reach, the hunger had space to speak. to scream. to ache.

it wasn’t just thirst. not anymore. this was something older, more violent. possessive. every fiber of his body burned with it — fingertips twitching, jaw tight, vision still full of the way your body curved under that stupid hoodie. his instincts coiled like wire in his spine. follow her, they hissed. don’t let her get far. prey doesn’t get to leave.

his hands curled into fists. fingernails biting into palms. palms sweating. chest cold. 

sunghoon stood there — motionless, wrecked — for three and a half goddamn minutes.

until he snapped.

not out of rage, not even out of panic — but need. raw, instinctive need. his legs moved before his mind could catch up, carrying him toward the back of the greenhouse like he could outrun the phantom of your presence. as soon as he knew the coast was clear, he shoved through the rear door and stumbled deeper into the structure. vines clawed at his sleeves; glass glinted too bright. he didn’t care.

he needed out. even if it was just in pieces.

his hands found the window latch, and he threw it open without grace. the winter air poured in sharp and cold, biting at his skin, slicing clean through the little heat in his blood.

he needed air. he needed space. he needed to not want you.

park sunghoon knew restraint. he had been taught discipline in another life — back when his heart still beat in earnest and his mother would scold him for eating too fast, for speaking too loud, for wanting too much. those memories were fragile now, dulled by centuries and dust, but some of them — the important ones — still clung to the corners of his mind like cracked porcelain. 

he remembered how to slow his breathing.

he remembered how to wait.

and more importantly, he remembered why.

he stood there, bent slightly against the greenhouse windowsill, letting the wind lash at his cheeks and the smell of damp soil cling to the edges of his clothes. his throat still burned. his gums still ached. but the feral pulse in his chest was no longer a roar — it had settled to something more manageable, something he could keep inside his ribs without destroying everything around him. 

barely.

his gums ached — raw and swollen from where his fangs had begun to cut deep into his lower lip. the taste of blood was subtle, metallic, but his own didn’t satisfy him. it never did. the venom gathering in his mouth numbed the edges, made the sting duller, but not enough to quiet the need. not enough to bring peace. his body pulsed with heat, with tension, with hunger coiled so tight in his gut it bordered on pain.

his vision — completely red now. not figuratively. literally. the world had blurred into hues of crimson and black, every shadow a threat, every light too bright. he couldn’t see the plants anymore, the glass, the faint outline of the cityscape. everything was filtered through the lens of thirst. need.

and his thoughts — god, they wouldn’t shut up. they echoed off the corners of his skull, each louder than the last: take. bite. taste. claim. over and over like a chant, like a prayer twisted into something violent and starving.

restraint was a thing he was used to clinging to. he had worn it like a second skin for centuries. but tonight…

tonight, park sunghoon knew the ache wouldn’t pass on its own. not this time.

his control wasn’t breaking — not yet — but it was bending, dangerously. and he knew, with a clarity that hollowed him out from the inside, that this wouldn’t stop until he sank his fangs into something. until blood — warm and real — hit his tongue and silenced the madness for a few precious seconds.

the moment the ache hit him — real, tangible, like fire in his spine and static in his teeth — park sunghoon did what he had done so many times before: he redirected. because if he didn’t, he’d lunge. and if he lunged, he wouldn’t stop. and if he didn’t stop, you wouldn’t walk out of here alive.

so he set his mind on something else. on someone else.

he summoned the memory of blood that wasn’t yours — colder, simpler, nameless. he let it coat the edges of his hunger like wax over flame, sealing the worst of it in, letting the image of you blur and fall away. he reached for impulse, for routine. for the safety of distraction. 

he stood from the floor with a grunt, wiped the corner of his mouth with the back of his hand, and began to move. out the back entrance. down the stairs. into the winter.

park sunghoon needed a distraction. something messy. something human. something that didn’t smell like you.

author's note: i am so sorry i ended this here, but as i was writing it felt so off to NOT let this moment breathe for a little hehe. next chapter we will have our lovely couple going crazy again and yes, i will make sunghoon feral because that is my favorite genre of men. also, sunghoon is a hot 633yo vampire, OF COURSE HE BAGGED MEN AND WOMEN EQUALLY. send me a request • my masterpost

taglist: @ikeugirly, @vixialuvs, @hoonprksung, @kyunlov.

[haerinari]

A PARTY TO REMEMBER

pairing: vampire!heeseung x fem!reader genre: friends to lovers, smut, pwp, Decelis Academy au warnings: smut content, drinking, kissing, ass grabbing, bitting, tit sucking, nipple play, dirty talking, oral (f.reciving), pussy slapping, fingering, big dick hee, blood, vampire stuff, unprotected sex (don’t do this guys), a bit of chocking, cum eating. want to keep reading? click here ⬇️

YOU’RE INVITED TO OUT BLOODY BIRTHDAY PARTY.

“Y/N, wait a second!” a voice exclaimed behind you, you turned around, seeing the familiar face of the boy who you were very used to see every day at the Academy.

“Heeseung, hi. Is everything okay?” you asked with a small smile on your face, your heart staring to pump faster as the boy came closer to you.

Heeseung was a very handsome and popular boy at your Academy. He and his group of friends Jake, Jay, Sunghoon, Sunoo, Jungwon and Ni-ki were known for their mysterious appearance and charming personality.

“Yeah, yeah.” he said. “I just wanted to give you this…”

Heeseung took a out of his backpack a piece of paper that seemed like a card, he gave it to you, a dark blue piece of paper that had written on the front “An Invitation To Our Bloody Birthday Party, To: Y/N.”

“Oh, thanks, Hee. I knew your birthday was coming up but I didn’t knew you were throwing a party.” he chuckled.

“Yeah, we decided that we wanted a big birthday this year.”

“We?” you repeated, a confused look in your face.

“Mhm.” he nodded. “Y’know, me and my friends. We all have the same birthday.”

“That’s—that’s an interesting thing to know…” you thought for a moment. “But anyway, thanks for the invitation, Hee.”

“No problem! Friday night, okay? 9pm, try not to be late. The dress code is our uniform… and Y/N?”

“Yeah?”

“Please come, i’m excited to have you there.”

“I’m surely going to be there, don’t worry.” you giggled. “And again, thanks for the invitation.”

“See you Friday night then.” Heeseung waved you goodbye with a smile on his face and continued walking.

You looked down and the invitation on your hands, taking out the white piece of paper that was inside the blue one.

You’re invited to our bloody birthday party.

Sometimes, walking down the deadly path

Without fleeing from death itself

Can give rise to the most wondrous creation

We hope you will be able to come.

Huh, this was a very—very interesting birthday invitation. Bloody Birthday Party? What does that even mean? And the fact that they all have the same birthday, makes the situation even stranger.

Students talked a lot about Heeseung and his friends. Most of the time were good things —most of the time— but the rumor about them going to the forest at night to kill animals and drink their blood, never left the Academy. People made theories about it, maybe they were sick of their mind, maybe they were crazy—even murders. But the craziest of them was the one that said they were all vampires.

Of course you liked Heeseung—and not just in the friendly way. His handsome face and polite manners caught your attention since the first day you met him at the Decelis Academy. He was always kind and friendly to you, who could possibly not fall for him? You also had a good relationship with his friends, Jake and Jay were your chemistry partners at class, Sunghoon was your very first friend at the Academy, you tutored Sunoo and Jungwon a few times for math class, and Ni-ki—well, he hit you on the face with a ball by accident.

ding dong!

You stood in front of the party’s door, loud music pumping from the inside. It was as a dark night, the cold breeze running to your body sending a shiver down to your spine, an unpleasant and uneasy feeling invading your body.

“Y/N, you finally came!” the door opened, revealing a messy hair Heeseung on the inside. His tie was a little bit loose and he had a red cup on his hand, probably de liquor he was drinking.

“Hey.” you smiled. “Sorry for the waiting, I had some work to do…”

“Don’t worry. Come in, come in.” Heeseung stepped aside letting you in, the room was full of people dancing and drinking, there was a disco-ball illuminating with flashing lights the room and everyone seemed to have a good time.

“Follow me, let’s say hello to the other guys.”

Heeseung’s arm wrapped over your shoulder, pulling you closer to him to make sure you wouldn’t lose in the crowd. He took you to the living room, where all his friends were laughing and drinking with each other.

“Hey guys!” Heeseung spoke, gaining the attention of his friends. “Look who finally came…”

“Y/N!” Sunoo exclaimed, raising his arms in excitement.

“Happy birthday you guys!” you pull them all into a tight hug, congratulating them one by one.

“Hey, I remember you.” the youngest of them, Riki, said. “You’re the girl I hit with a ball last week.”

“Yeah…” you answered.

“Sorry about that, nice to finally meet you.” he smiled.

“There’s drinks and food at the kitchen.” Jake said and Sunghoon nodded. “Take whatever you want and have fun.” Jungwon added.

“I’ll get her a drink, see you later boys.”

Heeseung got you out of the conversation with the boys and guided you towards the kitchen. A lot of students were passed out in the couches due to the alcohol in their systems and a few of them were making out in hidden corners of the room.

There were a lot types of drinks in the counter, particularly every single one of them being color red. Maybe this was what the invitation ment with “Bloody Birthday Party.”

“You really got into the theme, huh?” you smirked, speaking as loud as possible for Heeseung to hear you. “Even the drinks look like real blood.”

“I know, right.” he chuckled. “We put a lot of effort in it.”

Heeseung handed you the drink he was making for you, the red substance looking pretty temptress in your hands.

You gave it a sip, the drink actually tasting really good, a mix of strong liquor and something that you couldn’t guess if it was strawberry or watermelon burning down your throat. It tastes good, you thought.

“I’m glad you like it.” the boy said.

“How do you even know I like it?” you spoke back.

“You thought about it.”

“I actually did.” you laughed. “How did you know? It’s actually really, really good.”

“Just a little guess… C’mon, I want to show you something.”

Heeseung took your hand and dragged you through the crowd once again. God, he has been so touchy with you since you came in here. It’s not like you had something planned for tonight to get with Heeseung—it was his birthday party after all—but deep down in your mind you wished for him to make a move.

You started to hear the music and people talking less and less every minute. Heeseung’s hand was still dragging you up the stairs to what seemed the second floor of the house.

“Heeseung, where are we going?” you asked in confusion. why was he keeping you afar from the party?

“To my room.” he simply answered.

“Your—your room?” you stuttered. “But what about the party? You’re the birthday boy, you can’t just leave!”

“Don’t worry about it, Y/N. I just want to show you something. Besides, the other boys are down there.”

“Okay…”

Heeseung opened the door of what appeared to be his room, you entered the unknown space and then he came after you. The bedroom had actually a lot of space, a big bed with a desk on the side, a tv—but what actually caught your attention was the balcony that was illuminated by the moonlight.

“Oh, wow.” you murmured.

You stepped into the balcony, allowing the cold breeze to run through your hair. The view was amazing, the moon and stars were shining bright and you could almost see the entire Academy from here.

“Beautiful view isn’t it?” Heeseung said, standing beside you while admiring the big bright moon.

“Absolutely yes, you’re lucky to have this view every day.”

“Right? I know…”

You were so lost in your own thoughts that you didn’t notice that Heeseung wasn’t looking at the sky anymore, he was actually looking at you.

“What are you looking at?” you chuckled nervously, trying to avoid eye contact at all costs.

“Hmm, just the view.” he smirked.

“Oh, shut up.” you pushed his arm softly. “What is that even supposed to mean?”

“It means I like you.”

Wait—what? Oh god, Heeseung, your crush for the last few months was actually confessing that he liked you.

“I know you like me too.” he smiled.

“Oh yeah? And what makes you so sure about that, huh?”

“Because you…” he paused for a second, getting so close to you in a way that you could feel the heat radiating from his body. “…just thought about how i’ve been your crush for the past months.”

How could he possibly know what you were thinking? First it happened with the drink, now with this—

“How are you reading my mind?” you whispered, your lips so close to his that they were almost touching.

“I know a lot of things, baby.” Heeseung whispered back.

He got even closer to you, almost closing the small amount of distance that was left. His lips brushed against your cheek, sending a jolt of electricity through your body and shivers down your spine. His hands were on your hips, the tension between you two growing stronger second by second.

Heeseung’s lips finally met yours, kissing you in a slowly sensual way as if he was trying to take his time with you. The kiss eventually heated up pretty quickly, the wet smacking sounds and labored breathing was the only thing that could be heard. His tongue entered your mouth, dancing with your own wet muscle who was trying to gain control, of course you failed. Heeseung’s hands went from your hips to your ass, squeezing harshly and provoking a moan from your mouth.

“You’ll let me have you, right?”

He didn’t even need to hear an answer, the way your body was reacting to his touch was as enough green light for him to continue.

Heeseung guided you carefully to the soft mattress of his bed, his lips never leaving yours. His hands started to touch your body, taking off your tie and untying the white Academy Uniform you were wearing. One of his hands cupped your breast, pulling your lacy white bra to the side so he could feel how hard your nipples were starting to get.

“Fuck…” you moaned. Heeseung’s lips went from kissing your lips, to your jaw, to finally meet the soft skin of your neck. He started to suck there, discovering that every inch of your neck was one of your sweet spots.

His lips nipped all over your skin, biting and sucking it in a way that was making you see stars. He bit a particular place that got your eyes rolling at the back of your head, the burning pain of his teeth sinking down your skin adding more pleasure than you were feeling before.

“Auch!” you hissed.

“You like that? You like that baby? Yeah, me too.” he whispered before biting the same spot again.

His hot mouth went down to kiss your collarbone while one of his hands was busy unclasping your bra. He took it completely off, throwing it at one side of the bed, your soft breasts and erect nipples coming out freely.

His hands reached out and started to squeeze your tits, his fingers pinching your nipples as a moan scapes your lips. Heeseung’s swollen lips came to suck on of your nipples, his mouth pulling the flesh as hard as he could. Your back arched, trying to press your chest as close as you could to his mouth. The hot muscle came to your other tit, his tongue flicking your erect nipple while his hand was caressing your other breast.

He traveled a path of kisses from your tits to where you uniform skirt started, you took it off in a quick motion, trying to get some friction in where you need it the most.

“So desperate, huh…” he kissed you inner tights. “Want me to suck your pussy, baby? Want me to make you feel good?”

“Just—stop with the teasing, please.” you begged, your hips bucking up trying to find some sort of relief.

“You really need me, don’t you?” he giggled.

“Heeseung, please.” you groaned in frustration. “Please…”

“Just because you asked it so nicely.”

He took your panties off, his head between your tights as he spread your pussy lips apart. Heeseung finally leaned in, his tongue poking out to lick your clit.

“Fuck!” you gasped.

He began to lick and suck at your clit, his movements becoming stronger as he tried his best to please you. He groaned, the vibrations going directly to your throbbing cunt, his tongue moving roughly against your sensitive flesh. You moaned in pleasure, your hand coming down to his hair trying to push him even closer to you. He sucked and slurped loudly as he devoured your pussy, just like a starved man. One of his fingers came into your hole, stretching you to prepare you for what would be coming in a few minutes. You can feel yourself getting closer and closer to climax, your body trembling with anticipation.

“I’m gonna—shit— i think I’m cumming.” your hands grabbed the sheets behind you, searching for some kind of support.

“Taste so fucking good, baby… Just want you to cum in my face.”

His lips went back to your glistening pussy, he buried his face between your legs, his tongue delving deep into your cunt. You allow yourself to let out a load moan, no one would hear you do to the music, anyways. Heeseung’s tongue was swirling around your bundle of nerves and fucking your pussy.

“Cumming.” you nearly managed to say, biting your lip so hard to muffle your moans you could start taste your own blood.

A slap hit your pussy, the mixture of pain and pleasure making the knot in your stomach instantly snap. He continued to suck your pussy through your orgasm, your juices gushing out as he eats you even harder now. The wetness dripping down his chin as you cum all over his face.

“Shit…” Heeseung panted, his head coming up from between your legs. “That was so fucking hot.”

He crawled up until his lips were on top of yours once again, the mix of your lip blood and your own arousal in Heeseung’s mouth making the kiss intoxicated.

“Blood.” Heeseung said, stopping his movements and staring at your lips. You could feel his dark gaze in you, the only source of light was the moon that was illuminating his face.

“What?” you murmured, to lost in his kisses to even care about what he was saying.

“I can taste blood on your lips.” he repeated.

“I’m sorry—I think I bit my lip too hard.”

“Good.”

He captured your lips in a hungrier kiss, his hands went to unbutton his own shirt, throwing it to the side. Your hands touched his chest and his abs, trying to memorize every single inch of his perfect body. You went down, your fingers untangling his belt, both of his arms on the sides of your head.

Heeseung tossed your hands aside, taking down his own pants and boxers, revealing his hard throbbing length. He stroked himself a little, precum dripping down his red tip. He aligned himself to your entrance, pressing his hard cock against your soaking wet pussy. He slowly started thrusting into you, his thick length stretching you so delicious yet so painfully. He could feel your tight cunt stretching around his girth, a groan coming out from his lips.

His dick was sliding deep into your pussy, his movements hard and fast. You moaned, the feeling of his dick deep into you too good to be true. Your tits moving rhythmically with his trusts, bouncing up and down just right into Heeseung’s face. He kissed both of them, biting and sucking into the soft flesh. Tears were starting to come down from your face, your orgasm approaching faster than you expected.

“You can take it, baby. Take my cock, so fucking good, so fucking tight.” he groaned, his thumb cleaning the tears from your cheeks. “You want to cum, huh?”

The only sound coming from your mouth were incoherent mumbles, you were so cock drunk you couldn’t even speak properly.

“Use your words when I speak to you, Y/N.” a particular hard thrust hit your pussy, making you moan like crazy. Heeseung’s hand went to your throat, adding the perfect amount of pressure for you to feel like in cloud nine.

“Fuck— yes! Please, Hee. Please…” you gasped, the lack of oxygen and the tears in your eyes blurring your sight.

“It’s okay, baby. Let it go, okay? Just be a good girl and cum for me.”

His fingers reached around to rub your clit, making you moan even louder as he fucked you senseless.

Your orgasm hit you like a truck, you pussy clenching hard around his dick. Heeseung was still trying to chase his own orgasm, the overstimulation being too much to your poor sensitive body.

“Shit—now i’m gonna cum.” he panted, his thrust becoming sloppier. “Where do you want it?”

“Tits.” you replied.

He pulled out of you, now kneeling at one side of your body right next to your chest. He began to pump himself faster, moans escaping from his pretty lips.

The next thing you could feel was his hot cum ropes touching your chest, you sticked your tongue out, some of the salty fluid getting into your mouth.

Heeseung landed next to you, his arm around your waist and his face in the crook of your neck, both of you still trying to catch your breaths. He left kisses on your shoulder, making you feel save and loved at the same time.

The cute, soft moment didn’t last long, tho. You hissed, shifting a little uncomfortable as you felt Heeseung’s teeth on your neck again.

“Hey, you like biting, don’t you?” you giggled, hands coming to stroke his hair softly.

“It’s a mark.” he spoke. “Now you’re mine.”

“Yours, huh?” you smiled.

“Mhm, yes.”

The coldness of the night hit you in contrast of the hot atmosphere of Heeseung’s room.

It was around 3am on the morning and everyone already left the party. Of course you didn’t want to leave Heeseung’s side, but you had to get back to your dorm before the classes began.

The scenario of Heeseung and you was repeating in your mind like a movie, you smiled to yourself, butterflies fluttering in your stomach.

“Oh, shit.” you said, stopping abruptly your path and remembering that your tie was still missing. I must left it in Heeseung’s room, you thought.

You went back to the house, opening the door and seeing all the mess that was left behind. Surely all the boys were either too drunk or too lazy to clean the place.

You walked to Heeseung’s room, your hand almost touching the door knob when you heard a strange sound come from another door. You froze, maybe one of the boys was still up. What if someone saw you trying to get into Heeseung’s room?

You heard the strange noise again, deciding to leave Heeseung’s room and walk to the other door. You pressed your ear into it, trying to decipher what was causing the sounds you were hearing.

Taking a deep breath you decided to open the door, and you did not expect to see what was happening.

“What the…”

Your eyes widen in surprise. The room was cover in blood, mostly snakes and other type of animals laying dead or in pieces all across the room.

The seven boys looked at you, too perplexed to continue their actions. All of them were also covered in blood. Sunoo, Sunghoon and Heeseung holding a small snake in his hands.

“Y/N.” Heeseung spoke, panic in his voice trying to find an excuse to save himself and the others. “I swear I can explain…”

[justbelievinginmagic]

˗ˏˋ im(mortal) ˎˊ˗ series masterlist

pairing(s): vampire!enhypen ot7 x fem!reader

series summary: Seven souls struggle with the bitter dregs of eternal life. As they hide amongst human society, they try to discover a cure for their curse, decade after decade, century into century. In their investigations, they find more than they could imagine brewing including a strange magnetic pull towards a human woman. Will they be able to find their humanity once more or will their world crumble beneath the weight of immortality?

warnings/tags: Inspired by Enhypen's MVs lore & Enhypen's Dark Moon, Vampire AU, sort of Soulmate AU, heavy science fiction inspiration, 3rd person POV, use of YN, mature topics, angst, human experimentation, medicine (pills/shots), death, injuries, biting, medical imagery, implied abuse, canonical violence & trauma, vampire lore, blood, Ni-ki as Riki. more tags to be added probably!

word count: 21k written ; ongoing.

part 1 - blood moon. (posted 11/28/24) part 2 - daydream. (posted 12/23/24) part 3 - blurred. (posted 1/23/24) part 4 - orange flower. (SOON!)

[tttabii]

— 이희승 to desire is to demolish.. lee heeseung x reader

mentions of past live, vampire heeseung and mortal reader. reader's parents were vampire hunters in the past, in the present they have no memories of the past "TO DESIRE IS TO DEMOLISH"

Heeseung understood the meaning of this line better than anyone else.

His desire for you was not unnoticed by his six other vampire mates. In a city where vampires were hunted, feared, and hated-he shouldn't have wanted you.

But he did.

So deeply that it hollowed him out.

You a human girl, with such a good heart, always kind, always too generous. He hated how they used their biting tone towards you-those pathetic humans, your own family. and of course you let them. All while wearing that fake smile as if it was a mask that just never fit.

He'd seen it all. Heeseung had been there that night, as a bat quiet as a shadow, hidden behind the dining room hallway. And as you were there with your head low, your parents' words crushing you, Heeseung felt something stir in him.

"You will never get anywhere in your life unless you are somehow able to rank in the top 10."

"Why can't you just be like every other girl?"

"Detective? Don't be stupid. Girls like you shouldn't belong in horrendous fields like that."

You didn't say anything.You didn't cry.You simply swallowed their disappointment as a poison, the type in your veins that chills your core.

Heeseung shifted in the shadows, wings tucked. A part of him wanted to swoop in right then and there-to show them what real fear was.

But he didn't.

Not yet.

Later that night, bathed in moonlight, he fed. Animal blood was never enough, not anymore. Not since he had tasted the idea of you. You made it worse when you started reading up on vampires, and you quietly started following your family and neighbors around to eavesdrop on their whispers.

Burned vampire safehouses. Bodies turned to ash.

"They're dangerous," someone said. "They will hurt our kind eventually."

If only they knew how dangerous Heeseung could be. Especially when it came to you.

You weren't one of them. You never were. Even in your past life, you had a fascination with vampires-curious, compelled by their silence, pulled in by how special they can make you feel. You met him in the woods when you thought he was human, then it turned into sneaking him food and talk to him under starlight.

"I don't care what they say," you had whispered once, brushing dirt from his cheek. "You're not a monster."

He had smiled, not with fangs, but with warmth. You had kissed him like you meant it.

But you were only 21 when you died.

So young.

Too young for someone like you to leave a world so cruel and misunderstood.

You'd taken your own life-because your family found out. They'd sensed his scent lingering on your skin. They punished you for it, locked you away in silence and shame. He hadn't gotten there in time. He still sees your body sometimes in dreams-cold, pale, alone. It fueled something bitter in him.

He wanted revenge for that.

Even if it took 200 years.

And then he found you again.

Reborn.

No memories.

Same eyes.

Same soul.

Now, decades later, he stood in his dim room, wine glass in hand, filled with crimson liquid that stained his lips. In his other hand: an old black-and-white photograph.

You.

Smiling, young, foolishly alive.

The same face you wore now. Your parents? Still cruel. Still forcing you into a mold you didn't belong in. Still never letting you live.

Heeseung swirled the blood in his glass, eyes never leaving your face in that photo. His friends laughed in the background, joking about who'd hunt for more blood next.

But he didn't join them.

Not yet. He had waited two centuries for this moment. To find you again. And this time he wouldn't let the world ruin you. But maybe, he'd ruin you himself.

Because to desire is to demolish. To love something so much, you end up breaking it. Crushing everything in your path just to keep it close.

And oh, how he desired you.

Even if it meant turning you.

Even if it meant blood on his hands-your family's blood.

Even if, in the end, he couldn't tell whether he was saving you... or destroying you piece by piece.

🦇! You slammed your bedroom door again. It felt like a pattern. Lock the door, ignore their screaming, cry only when it was silent again. You walked into the bathroom and stared into the mirror. The girl staring back didn't look like you anymore. She was someone they were trying to create. A guinea pig. A puppet. You hated it. Every bit of it. Science? For what? You could barely get through chemistry without feeling like your brain was rotting. You knew what you cared about-you had always known. Criminology. Justice. You didn't want to be behind a microscope. You wanted to be behind the truth. But your parents had other plans with their money and their power.

You remembered the day your professor told you in the softest voice, "You don't belong in science. You belong in the field. I can just see the light in your eyes when we talk about criminal cases, not chemical equations." And when your parents found out? He was gone. Fired. Overnight. Because no one questioned them-not when they owned hospitals, funded research, held power over the city's science museum and board of education. And certainly not when it came to their daughter.

But you never gave up. Under your bed lay stacks of printed crime documentaries, old case files you'd gotten your hands on, and textbooks bought secretly from graduating seniors. You met Giselle during one of those tutoring sessions, and she quickly became your lifeline. She admired your persistence, helped cover for you, even smuggled you practice exams and study notes. With her help, your hidden education began to thrive. Heeseung watched it all. From the trees outside your window, in his silent, bat-like form. You never noticed. He observed the way your back bent just so when you stretched, how your fingers played with your messy hair as you read in that worn tank top and cotton shorts. The glasses slipped down your nose. A mind ablaze. A heart still soft after so many wounds.

But what he noticed the most was the scent of your blood. Warm. Pure. Strong. But it had always spiked when you were upset. You burned like a furnace when angry, and Heeseung? He wanted that heat like a dying man. It made him restless. It made him ache.

Outside, the world was getting worse for both mortals and his kind. More human homes burned in the night-not from his group, no. But from the starving rogue vampires still hiding. Not every vampire followed Heeseung's way. The allure of the blood was too tempting. And it was going to become more dangerous now that your parents' scientists were working on tools to detect vampires. Lethal ones.

You were stuck between two worlds of danger. And Heeseung had waited 200 years to find you again. He wasn't going to lose you now.

He sat perched on the roof, wine glass in hand filled with thick red liquid that wasn't from animals this time. Not tonight. The glass trembled slightly between his fingers as he stared through your window again, seeing your silhouette pacing. You always did that when you were thinking too hard.

He pulled out the photo. Black and white. Edges worn and cracked from the years. You looked so different then. And yet, you didn't. Still bright-eyed. Still gentle. But you died too young back then. Barely 21. A suicide, they said.

But Heeseung knew better. You were driven to the edge. Suffocated by control. By them. He was meant to turn you back then. He should've. He failed. And now, you were back-flesh, blood, and fragile. No memories of your past. No memories of him.

He'd make sure it didn't happen again.

Back inside, you were curled up in your chair, blanket around your shoulders, crime doc open on your laptop. Your eyes flicked to the dark window. You felt it again-that strange pull. Like someone was there. Watching. You shook your head and whispered, "Maybe I'm going crazy." But outside, a voice murmured lowly, "No, little dove. You're just finally waking up."

🦇!

Heeseung had infiltrated the college records system at midnight. One name in the system. One fake ID. A perfectly fabricated background. It wasn't difficult. Centuries had taught him how to bend the rules in all the right ways without getting caught. And he even chose criminology as his study-of course he did. Not just to be near you. But to understand your mind again. Every last inch of who you were now.His friends had warned him, time and time again. "You're whipped" Jake had scoffed, watching Heeseung reorganize your class schedule onto his phone.

"Two centuries man. That's not devotion, that's madness," Sunghoon shrugged, tossing a blood-pack into the sink. "Just don't go overboard. She doesn't know yet. Don't force it."

Heeseung kept quiet. Their warnings rolled off him like dust. They just didn't get it. You weren't just a girl. You were his. And history was repeating itself.

You were twenty. One year away. One crack away. He could hear the beat of your heart from across the campus, it was all tension. He could hear your blood pulse faster each time you left the science wing. Your shoulders tensed tighter every time your phone lit up with a message from them. And he was scared-terrified-that if they pushed too hard again, you'd break.

Just like last time. And this time, he wouldn't let it happen.

You walked into the library, fingers clutching your chemistry notes like they were going to strangle you. You were tired. You couldn't make sense of the formulas-the letters and numbers seemed to blur into gibberish and you wanted nothing more than to forget that language. And underneath, your criminology book lay open like a secret you weren't allowed to know. You should've felt excitement looking at it-passion-but all you felt now was a sense of surrender.You surveyed the room. All tables were taken. The campus was buzzing-because it was midterms week.Except for one spot. He sat at a table beside the window all alone. A perfect stream of golden light fell onto his figure. His hair-black with a hint of purple when illuminated by the sun-fell nicely onto his forehead. He had a strong jaw and his lips were just parted as he read something intensely, his fingers lightly curled under the spine of his book. His black long-sleeve t-shirt looked good on him, it fit closely to his arms, slightly flexing the muscle there with every slight movement. He had pale skin. Dark lashes. He had intensity in every look. You wavered. But you had no choice. "Um, excuse me," you said lowly. "Is this seat taken?"

His eyes flicked to yours.

And for a moment... time stilled.

Heeseung had familiarized himself with your presence before you even spoke, he always did. But he wasn't prepared for how it felt to look into your eyes again. Your voice. Your voice, after so long. And now you were standing in front of him, asking for a seat at his table like fate was giving him another chance.

He cleared his throat, snapping out of it. "No. Go ahead."

You sat across from him, feeling grateful and tired, trying not to take too long looking at the handsome stranger while you got your notes all laid out. But feeling his gaze curious along with you. "...You study criminology too?" You asked, nodding your head at the case law textbook that he had opened and worn out.

He looked down at the text and a coy smile formed. "Yeah. I guess you could say I've always had a thing for justice."

There was something a bit nostalgic about the way he said it, like it meant more than the sentence led on. You faintly smiled. "Me too. But I'm not sure between this and chemistry."

He glanced at your notes, then your eyes. "Why chemistry?"

"My parents," you sighed. "They'd rather see me in a lab coat than catching criminals."| He didn't answer right away.

Instead, his voice lowered, quiet and strangely comforting. "Then maybe they're not seeing who you really are." You looked up sharply, heart skipping. He wasn't wrong. "What's your name?" you asked. "Heeseung." It rolled off his tongue like silk. You repeated it under your breath, committing it to memory before you realized what you were doing. "Nice to meet you," you whispered.

Heeseung had started tutoring you in chemistry after the library incident. It was spontaneous and unexpected-a characteristic of him-but when he noticed how your eyes drooped with confusion over chemical bonds, he just gave an inviting pat on the seat beside him. "Come sit here," he said quietly. And you did. You sank down the seat, close enough that your shoulder touched his. He leaned toward you, warm breath blowing over your notes as he inspected them to usher your pencil to fix a reaction. He walked you through everything slowly, with a kindness that belied the impatient ire he projected when he was alone. But what he was most impressed with the way you looked at him, thinking he wasn't looking. Like something inside you recognized him. Your smell wrapped around him too-something sweet, strawberries and cinnamon-a smell which was very familiar to him. And then your heart... oh your heart. It remember him too. Reacted to him like it had back when he used to sneak into your chambers, centuries ago, laying his head on your shoulder while the stars watched silently overhead.

He thought he'd lost that forever. "Have we... met before?" you asked him suddenly one evening. You had been walking together outside. He was taking you to your favorite cafe, which had only become your favorite because he was taking you there. Giselle had backed out at the last minute, but you didn't mind. Heeseung blinked at you. The question hit him deeper than you knew. "Maybe in another life," he said, teasingly, hiding the storm washing over him. "Why?" "I don't know," you murmured, looking down at the cobbled pavement beneath you. "I just feel... comforted being next to you. I've never felt this way before. Except for Giselle. And now you." He hummed again, this time slowly. He wanted to say I never stopped loving you. But instead... he took your hand. The crowd ahead thickened, voices began to rise, footsteps quickened. A protest? A march? His fingers still slipped in between yours, softly-like slipping into a favorite song. You froze for a moment, but didn't pull your hand away. He felt your pulse quicken.

Just like old times.

Thoughts of the past flooded Heeseung's mind, where you used to sit with him on the balcony of the castle, head leaning against his chest, stars sizzling above you like embers. Nobody understood you. Not your family. Not anyone. But Heeseung... he understood. "Do you think we will meet again in another life?" you had whispered. "Somewhere we can just...be happy? Same species, same time. Nobody trying to murder you. Nobody tearing us apart." He didn't answer immediately. He couldn't. Your heart was beating too loud. Too tempting. He buried his face into the crook of your neck to resist not biting you. Then he shrugged and said casually, "Maybe, if the universe is nice for once." He shook his head and returned to the present, trying to ignore the noise in the crowd as best as he could, but even as he closed his eyes, he could still hear bits and pieces of commentary from the crowd: "Vampires are ruining this world-" "Garlic in your houses, I'm telling you!" "They walk among us!" He almost laughed. Garlic? That was a myth they let spread just to laugh at humans. He tightened his grip on your hand, leading you through the crowd. When someone threw themselves into you hard, and you stumbled, he was on you quicker than most of the people in the crowd.

And when he saw how thick the gathering was, he didn't hesitate. "Hold on," he said. Before you could protest, he crouched slightly and lifted you onto his back. His movements were effortless, like you weighed nothing. You gasped, arms wrapping around his neck. "H-Heeseung?!" "Too crowded," he muttered, calmly. "You almost got trampled." You hid your face in his shoulder, heart racing. But even then... you felt safe. Just like before. And somewhere deep in your soul, that feeling scared you more than the crowd ever could.

The last few weeks of being with Heeseung felt like taking a breath of fresh air. He was slowly peeling away your good-girl shell, sometimes slowly, sometimes gently, and sometimes all at the same time. The midnight drives in his slick black car became your secret escape. The sound of the engine roaring, the blinking lights of Seoul's neon approaching and dispersing; he made you feel alive. It was dangerous. It was exhilarating. But more than anything else, it was him. And somehow, he was always able to make you feel safe. The first time he invited you to watch him race, you almost hesitated. "You sure this is okay?" you asked feebly, scanning the narrow alleyway crowded with sharp-eyed men and girls in leather. Heeseung leaned closer, his voice a low, warm breath. "Really, would I let anything happen to you?" You believed him. You rode beside him in the passenger seat that night, his hand occasionally reaching over to steady you when he took sharp turns. The adrenaline was addictive. Afterward, you were hungry and laughing, heart still racing as he bought you late-night street food.

"You eat like you haven't in days," he teased, gently wiping the crumbs off the corner of your lips with his thumb. His eyes softened, watching you chew. He didn't need to eat, not human food at least, but he always made sure you did. In school, Heeseung was untouchable to everyone else-but with you, he was different. He walked with you in the hallways, ignoring every desperate gaze and whisper.

You noticed the tension in his jaw as you leaned over his lap to retrieve your criminology book, so close to his neck that your face was almost touching it.He was resisting instincts that the average person could never comprehend, but he never pushed you away. When you admitted to him that you had never drank alcohol before, he simply laughed, his eyes wide and bright like you had told him that you had never looked at the sky. "Then let me fix that," he grinned. He took you to a hidden bar downtown-not the chaotic kind filled with grinding bodies and cheap drinks, but the kind with dim lights, red velvet couches, jazz playing in the background, and top-shelf liquor.

You sat across from him, letting him teach you how to taste whiskey and sip slowly. He watched you with such intent-every scrunch of your nose, every nervous giggle.

He didn't allow you to pay for anything. You protested.

He didn't care.

By the time you were tipsy, you were holding his hand and giggling while he walked you home.He rubbed soft cirlces into your thumb with his hand from time to time, looking down at you with a smirk on his face.

You felt safe.

But that night when you walked through the front door, everything changed.

Your parents were waiting. Cold. Silent.

The next day, your world started to tear itself apart. "He's not right for you." "He's a bad influence." "You should be studying, not getting drunk and riding around with some street rat." You tried to defend him-to defend yourself-but they wouldn't allow it. No chance in hell. Especially after the horrible news about the vampire. Attacks. More dead. And a picture of a street you recognized from one of Heeseung's races slowly fading in and out on the screen. That was it. They showed up at your college the next day. Shattered your life in one breath. You came home to find all your criminology notes, everything Heeseung helped you with, on fire. They took all your textbooks and tossed them in the fireplace. You screamed. You begged. But they watched coldly, "You're done with that life. For your own good." You cried until you couldn't catch your breath. Until you were hoarse and your body couldn't handle it anymore. That night, Heeseung found your bent body on the floor through your window, mascara streaking your cheeks, desperately clawing to get your papers out of the ashes. His fists were clenched.

His jaw locked.

He had stayed silent for centuries, bled in silence, suffered in silence. But seeing you like this again, just like 200 years ago... He couldn't take it anymore. "She cried herself to sleep, you know," he growled later that night to one of his own. "She didn't deserve this." "Don't be stupid," Jay warned. "You can't start anything now-" "I don't care," Heeseung snapped. "They stole her fire again. They burned her future. Again. I'm not waiting this time." The moonlight made his eyes glow blood-red. His smile was gone. 🦇!

When midnight struck, the full moon lit your room with cold silver light. You lay curled on your bed, legs pulled to your chest, throat burned raw from hours earlier screaming at your locked bedroom door after your parents simply didn't listen and grounded you for weeks with no alternative. You had committed the sin of liking someone they didn't, and kicked at the floor in frustration as your thoughts raced. Then the TV changed to breaking news status and you froze. Your heart dropped, it was on the screen-all the names of a few vampires-faces made known to all of Seoul. It was familiar. Heeseung... and his friends.He was a vampire.All this freaking time. You stared at the screen, stomach writhing inside you and breath caught in your throat.But the weirdest part?You didn't feel afraid. Just as the ache in your chest started up again, you heard soft knocks from the direction of your window. You bolted upright, eyes wide and hardly daring to believe it. And there was Heeseung on your windowsill, like he hadn't just be outed as one of the city's most wanted.

"You're not supposed to be here!" you hissed, stumbling over to unlatch the window and pulling him in.

As soon as his feet hit the floor, he didn't waste a second. His hands were cupping your cheeks, and then his lips were crashing against yours in a kiss so desperate, so full of pent-up longing, that your knees nearly gave out. You gasped, mind reeling, especially after what you'd just seen on the news. But then his forehead rested against yours, his thumb stroking your cheek softly, like you were fragile, like you were still his.

"You're not scared?" He said, his voice filled with disbelief as his eyes scanned your face. "I'm basically a wanted criminal... or a vampire." You shook your head without thought. He didn't scare you. He never had. Even now, when every rational part of your brain was screaming that he should.Heeseung swallowed hard, his eyes dropping to your lips, then to your neck, down to your flushed cheeks, and the thumping of your heart that was calling to him in waves. The kiss had awakened something in both of you, and amidst all of the things he was mauling in his head, he was trying-failing-to hold himself together. He kissed you again. This time deeper, and as pushed you against his body, his tongue teasingly slipped between your lips. "Heeseung," you gasped as you tried to breathe into his mouth. "You're going to get caught. My parents, they..." "They're making weapons," he interrupted, pulling away just enough to look into your eyes. "Lethal weapons. Against our kind." Your breath hitched. "Oh."

You looked down at your feet, fingers nervously pulling at the hem of your shirt. You didn't know what to say. Your parents had always been firm in their hatred-fear-of vampires, but this? Creating weapons? Your throat tightened. Heeseung stared at you, battling the hunger rising inside him, the scent of your skin driving him mad. His fangs threatened to break free, his hands trembling as they found your waist, pulling you closer. You didn't flinch. Instead, you looked up at him, your voice barely above a whisper.

"Are you hungry?"

Heeseung's eyes flashed crimson, and he tried to turn his face away from your neck, but you were already reaching for him. Your hand gently guided his head back down, nudging him toward the space just beneath your jaw. "Come on..." you whispered, heart pounding. "No, I can't," he muttered, voice strained. "I can't do that to you." But you didn't let go. You tugged him closer, your fingers curling into the back of his shirt, your body trembling but not from fear. "Yes, you can," you said, your voice breaking slightly. "I'm tired of living like this. I want to choose this. You." His control snapped. He kissed you again, lips trailing from your mouth to your jaw, to your neck. You felt his breath ghost over your skin, his lips tracing along your pulse before he paused, hesitating one last time. Then he pressed a kiss to your neck, soft and reverent, before his fangs finally sank in.

As the poison spread through your bloodstream, the world before you blurred. The bite sharp, stinging, unbearable, and euphoric. A soft, broken moan slipped from your mouth, your body spasming in a way that was somewhere between pain and need altogether. You held onto Heeseung tighter-clutched him-as the world was spinning, your vision fading, your heart alternating between a slow and fast pace. It was all just too much. Consuming. Heeseung finally let go of his lips, lips that were slick, bloodied, and now dripping of your blood down his chin. Your blood. He looked down at you, panting, staring at you-at what he just did-at the pain you were in-only to not at all come to regret it. Not for a second. You swayed in his arms, your eyes fluttering shut like you were absolutely out of it. "Shhh..." He murmured, his tone gentle; in a way you took as lullaby. "Tomorrow will all be okay." He slowly kissed your forehead and put you onto your bed, brushing stray strands of hair from your warm face. He gently wiped the blood from your neck-as far as it goes. Removing the immediate evidence-but not the bite... not the mark... his mark... that would be on your skin forever. A forever bond. A turning that could never be undone.

He looked at you once more, eyes lingering on the unconscious expression of pain and peace across your face, then turned and climbed back out the window, slipping into the night. The engine of his black car purred low, barely audible beneath the hum of the quiet midnight streets. Jake leaned against the passenger door, smirking knowingly as Heeseung approached.

"Did you finally turn her?" Jake asked slyly, intrigue hanging in his voice. "Yup." Heeseung was flat, his voice unemotional, dark eyes caught between guilt and something a lot colder. Jay stepped out of the shadows, arms crossed and giving Heeseung a sharp look. "So where is she?" Heeseung pushed back into the hood of the car, eyes drifting up to the moon that was glowing above. "That's the plan." He muttered. "Revenge." He stopped for a moment, running a hand through his messy hair before continuing. "Her parents will find out when she wakes up starving... When she craves blood for the first time... human blood. They will find out when they realize they turned their daughter into their worst nightmare." The others were silent, watching him closely. Jake raised an eyebrow but didn't comment. Jay's lips twitched slightly, as if amused. Heeseung almost dropped his voice to a whisper. "She has to learn. I'd love to help her... but she needs to learn it all by herself first."

He didn't say it aloud, but his chest ached. He hated leaving you like this, vulnerable and scared. But this was the only way to free you from the cage your parents built for you. The only way to make them pay for what they did-to both of you. Before they could drive off, he reached into his pocket, pulling out a small note he had written earlier. It was a map, a location, and three words scribbled in rushed handwriting: "Come find me." He went back, climbed in through the window one last time, and tucked the note into the pocket of your hoodie. His fingers brushed your hand gently, lingering for a moment. Then he disappeared once more into the darkness, leaving the room silent. And you-now half vampire, heartbroken and unknowing-slept through the night, unaware of the hunger that would burn inside you come morning.

[dollysoob]

enhypen moodboard #2 - vampire ver

heeseung 💋

vampire!heeseung who can’t help but take a bite out of you when eating you out in his dorm. he’d purposefully tease you by licking a stripe up your thigh and start sucking blood from your leg while two or even three of his fingers pump your soaked cunt.

vampire!heeseeung who sneaks into your room at night and sucks blood anywhere he can. you’d wake up to find him devouring your pussy and puncture marks everywhere on your skin.

vampire!heeseung who thinks you taste like candy and compares the taste by sucking you dry. he’d bite into your shoulder once, suck some blood, then get out different candies to find out which one you taste like the most so that he doesn’t have to keep drinking your ethereal blood.

jongseong 🩸

vampire!jay who doesn’t care whether you’re in public or not, if he wants to drink, he’ll drink. you’d be at chanel or dior and all of a sudden, he’ll start acting very needy and touchy. next thing you know he’s sucking you like there’s no tomorrow in the backseat of his car.

vampire!jay who likes to take it slow when fucking you. he likes seeing you whine and beg him to go faster. whenever you complain, he bites your neck and sucks some of your blood to make you nauseous and it really shut you up sometimes. in the end, he’ll still fuck you dumb after you quiet down.

vampire!jay who tries to substitute your blood for your cum. it’s hard, though, because he drinks some of your blood everyday. jay begs you to sit on his face daily because he thinks the taste of your cum is like creamy vanilla ice cream. when you finally give in, he’ll eat you out like a starved man, praying you’d have more than one orgasm. this way, you don’t get your blood drawn out by his fangs.

jaeyun 🌹

vampire!jake who gets energy off your blood. before a show, he’ll have you pinned up against a wall, giving you lovebites on your neck and collarbone. once he’s done with that he’ll slowly and tortuously start going over the hickeys and sucking blood from every. single. one. he won’t stop until it looked like an octopus tried hugging you.

vampire!jake who gets off by pictures of you wearing small lingerie in red-, his favorite color. he’d jerk off for hours, biting his lip so hard that he draws blood from himself. the moment you come to his dorm, he’ll already be nude, just in his boxers with a bulge sticking out of it. he’ll spend the entire night knocking you up trying to make you forget his own name.

vampire!jake who has a high sex drive in the middle of the night. he’d dry hump his pillow, thinking it’s you and cum all over it. by the time you come over, he’d probably already had at least two orgasms just from the thought of you. he’d suck you dry as punishment because you took too long to get there. 🤕

a/n :: debating whether to make a part two with sunghoon, sunoo, and jungwon.

[serapharua]

୨୧ 一 VAMPIRE!ENHA REACTION TO SOOHA HURTING THEIR PARTNER . . !

enhypen 0T7 — GENRE : imagines headcanon vampire au suggestive — PAIRING : gn.reader — WARNING : mentions of blood, possessive — REQUESTED : by 🎧 anon! ☆ — enha masterlist

HEESEUNG :

The moment Heeseung stepped into the manor, he knew something was wrong.

The air had shifted. It wasn’t just the silence, it was too still, too heavy, like the calm that pressed in before a storm. The fire in the hearth had long since burned low, its embers barely glowing, and the shadows in the grand hall had deepened. He could smell it, fear, panic. And blood. Not like his own or his brothers’. No, this was warmer, sweeter, human.

Your blood.

He was across the room in a blink, his coat whipping behind him like smoke. His gaze fell on the smear of red staining the marble floor, and for a heartbeat, everything inside him went quiet.

“Where are they?” His voice was low, dangerous.

It was Sunghoon who answered from the corridor, eyes dark and jaw clenched. “In the study. With Sooha.”

Heeseung didn’t wait. The doors flew open under his touch, and there you were, curled against one of the high-backed chairs, trying to shrink into it, your hand pressed tightly against your side, blood trickling between your fingers. Your eyes snapped to him the moment he entered, wide and scared and shining with unshed tears.

But you weren’t afraid of him.

He was beside you in a second, kneeling so that he didn’t tower over you, his voice gentler now, but threaded with fury. “What happened?”

You opened your mouth, hesitant, but then he felt it, the chill in the room, the way the shadows coiled like smoke behind him, and Sooha stepped forward, face cold and unreadable.

“She provoked me,” she said simply. “She overstepped. I reminded her of her place.”

Heeseung stood slowly. “You… reminded her?”

Sooha tilted her chin, unapologetic. “She’s not one of you guys. She needed to learn.”

The silence that followed cracked like ice.

Heeseung didn’t raise his voice. He didn’t bare his fangs. But the air around him pulsed with ancient power, older than Sooha could begin to understand. His eyes, usually warm, playful, had gone dark.

“You don’t get to decide who belongs here,” he said, voice low and lethal. “She’s part of this coven. My coven.”

Sooha’s expression faltered.

“She bleeds, and I feel it,” he continued, stepping closer. “You marked her, Sooha. Which means you’ve marked yourself.”

For the first time, she backed away.

Heeseung didn’t move to strike her. He didn’t need to. With a single glance, he dismissed her, and that was a punishment in itself. His gaze returned to you, the fury melting into something softer, wounded.

“I’m sorry,” he whispered, his hands trembling slightly as he reached to touch you. “I should’ve been here.”

You shook your head, but he only looked more broken.

He carried you out of the room carefully, protectively, as if you were made of glass. And maybe to him, you were. A fragile, beautiful thing in a world too sharp for human skin. But you were his. And he would burn the night itself before letting anyone forget that again

JAY :

The storm rolled in just after dusk.

The manor creaked beneath the weight of wind and rain, shadows swaying on the walls like ghosts. Jay stood near the tall windows of the library, watching as lightning forked across the sky in silence. Storms usually brought him calm, clarity in the chaos. But not tonight.

Tonight, the air tasted wrong.

He hadn’t seen you all day. And you never disappeared on him.

Not without reason.

The search didn’t take long, he always knew where to find you when things hurt. An empty guest room on the second floor. The door was ajar, the light flickering. You sat against the far wall, arms wrapped tightly around your knees, like you were trying to make yourself smaller.

But what stopped him cold was the scent.

Blood.

Yours.

He was at your side in an instant, movements soundless, hands hovering just short of touching you, as if even the gentlest graze might hurt.

Your eyes lifted to meet his, rimmed with red, glossed with tears.

“Jay…”

His voice came low and measured, too measured. “Who did this?”

You didn’t answer at first. But the silence told him everything.

“Sooha,” you whispered. Human. Just like you. But clearly not harmless.

Jay exhaled through his nose, slow and silent, before standing to his full height.

Then he left.

No fury in his footsteps. No slammed doors. He moved like smoke down the halls, composed, precise, more dangerous than any roaring beast.

He found her near the grand stairwell, leaning against the banister, laughing quietly with one of the kitchen staff. Carefree. Unbothered.

Her eyes met his, and the laughter died.

“She was getting too close,” Sooha said, smoothing her hair. “To you. To all of this. She needed to remember who she is.”

Jay didn’t flinch. “And who is she?”

Sooha’s gaze narrowed. “She’s not like you. She doesn’t belong here.”

Jay’s hands clenched at his sides, but his expression didn’t change.

“No,” he said softly. “But neither do you, anymore.”

Sooha blinked.

“You don’t get to decide who belongs in this house.” His words cut like ice. “This place isn’t ruled by blood. It’s ruled by loyalty. By me.”

She tried to speak, but he continued.

“You put your hands on her. You crossed a line.” He stepped closer, voice like thunder hidden beneath velvet. “You hurt someone under my protection.”

Sooha’s smirk vanished.

“There won’t be a second time,” he finished.

And then he turned and left her there, no dramatic exit, no need for fangs or power. Just the silence of judgment falling like a blade.

When he returned to you, the storm still raged outside, but the worst of it had already passed through him. You sat where he left you, a fresh bandage now wrapped around your arm, eyes watching the doorway like you were waiting for him to breathe again.

He knelt before you without a word and placed his hands over yours.

“I should’ve known,” he murmured. “I should’ve stopped it.”

Your lips parted, but he shook his head gently.

“I don’t care what anyone else sees when they look at you,” he said, voice softer now. “You’re mine. You’re family here.”

And though he didn’t finish the thought, the words hung unspoken in the air:

If anyone ever forgets that again…

Jay wouldn’t scream.

He would simply make sure they remembered.

JAKE :

The rain hadn’t stopped all evening.

It drummed against the manor windows in a steady rhythm, washing the world in silver and shadow. Jake was in the solarium when he felt it, a shift, like the warmth in the room had been sucked out in an instant. He sat up straighter. Something in his chest prickled. A pull.

He followed it.

The halls were quiet. Too quiet. The kind of silence that held its breath.

He found you in the sitting room, curled up on the window seat where the rain could kiss the glass just inches from your face. You didn’t look up as he approached, but you didn’t need to. He saw the way your shoulders tensed when you sensed him, when you knew it was him.

Then he saw the red.

It bloomed beneath your sleeve, staining the delicate fabric. A smear down your forearm. Your hand clutching the wound like you could keep it from spilling further.

Jake’s heart stopped.

He knelt before you without hesitation. “What happened?”

You didn’t answer at first. Your lips trembled, not from pain, but from holding back the truth.

He reached out, fingers ghosting over yours, grounding you. “Who did this, love? Please.”

Your voice was small. “Sooha.”

His stomach twisted.

“Sooha?” he repeated, disbelieving. “She hurt you?”

You nodded, eyes wide. Not with fear of him. Never of him. Just with the ache of betrayal. “She said I needed to ‘know my place.’ That I didn’t belong here.”

Jake’s expression shuttered.

He stood.

There was no rush to his steps, but his presence filled every corridor he walked. Warmth had always clung to Jake like sunlight, but now, it was gone. Replaced by something colder. Sharper.

He found Sooha in the hallway just outside the drawing room, her arms crossed, her posture defensive even before she turned to face him.

“She’s not one of us,” Sooha said before he could speak. “She walks around here like she belongs. Like she’s one of you.”

Jake didn’t answer right away. He just looked at her. And in that stillness, there was a terrible silence.

“She does belong here,” he said finally. Quiet, but resolute. “Because I say she does.”

“She’s just—”

“She’s mine,” he snapped, cutting her off for the first time in his life. His voice wasn’t loud, but it was final. It rang through the air like the slam of a coffin lid. “And you hurt her.”

Sooha faltered.

“I don’t care if you’re human or vampire. You don’t touch someone I care about and think it’ll go unanswered.”

Sooha shrank under the weight of his fury, because Jake’s rage didn’t roar. It scorched. It bled from him like heat from the sun, overwhelming and impossible to ignore.

“If you ever go near her again,” he said, stepping forward just once, “you won’t get to walk away from it.”

He left her standing there, stunned and pale, the thunder outside masking the tremor in her breath.

When he returned to you, you looked up as if expecting the storm to follow him, but when he reached you, it was only with soft hands and an aching expression.

“I’m so sorry,” he murmured, pulling you gently into his arms, careful of your injury. “I should’ve been there. I should’ve stopped it.”

You pressed your forehead against his shoulder, letting his warmth sink into you, feeling the weight of his guilt.

“She said I don’t belong here,” you whispered.

Jake pulled back just enough to cup your cheek, his brows drawn low.

“You belong with me. That’s all that matters.”

And he meant it.

He’d keep you close, now, closer than before. Not because he didn’t trust the world, but because he’d never forgive himself for letting it hurt you again.

Not when he could burn for you instead.

SUNGHOON :

The manor was hushed.

Not silent, no, silence was expected in a house full of immortals. But this hush was something else. Tense. Like the shadows themselves had paused mid-breath, waiting.

Sunghoon felt it the moment he stepped through the front doors. He stopped in the entryway, white snow melting in his hair, on the shoulders of his coat. Something was wrong.

And then he scented it.

Blood.

Warm. Familiar.

Yours.

He vanished from the spot in a blink.

He found you in the music room. You always loved the soft light there, the way it spilled in through the tall windows. But now, you were tucked into the corner like you wanted to disappear, legs drawn up, sleeves pulled down to hide the red still leaking through the fabric.

Your hands were shaking.

He said your name, barely a whisper, and you startled, but when you saw it was him, your eyes filled, brimming with unspoken pain.

“I’m okay,” you breathed.

You weren’t.

He crossed the room in seconds, sinking to one knee in front of you. When he touched your wrist, it was gentle, but his fingers were ice-cold.

“Who did this?”

You didn’t answer. You didn’t need to.

A name floated between you like smoke.

Sooha.

His stillness turned dangerous.

Sunghoon didn’t move for a long beat. And then he rose.

When he found her, still in the front hall, talking too casually with another vampire, he didn’t speak right away. Just looked at her with the weight of a glacier behind his gaze.

“You hurt her,” he said at last.

Sooha’s smile was thin. “She’s human. She needed to learn her place.”

Sunghoon tilted his head slightly. “sooha, you're also a human.”

ignoring his words she continued, “She acts like she belongs here.”

“She does.” His voice was razor-sharp now. “She belongs here more than you do.”

The temperature in the hall dropped.

“I didn’t mean to—”

“You don’t get to mean or not mean. You laid hands on someone under my care.”

His eyes gleamed now, not with rage, but something colder.

“Do you know what that means?” he asked, voice dropping to a whisper. “It means I saw it. Every bruise. Every drop of blood. You made her bleed, and now you owe me.”

He didn’t raise his hand.

He didn’t need to.

He stepped forward, and the air warped around him like it was trying to recoil from the power he held beneath that composed exterior.

Sooha didn’t speak again.

She couldn’t.

Later, when he returned to you, you were still in the music room, but your eyes were closed now, the storm outside humming against the glass.

He sat beside you silently, taking your hand in his without a word.

“I didn’t want you to be upset,” you whispered.

He didn’t answer right away.

Then: “She won’t touch you again.”

You looked at him, and the flicker in his eyes softened just enough to let the real Sunghoon show through, icy and elegant, yes, but with a devotion that ran deeper than any wound.

“I don’t care what blood runs through your veins,” he murmured, brushing a hand down your arm. “You’re mine. That’s the only thing that matters.”

And in that moment, the storm beyond the manor walls felt like nothing compared to the fury he had already silenced, for you.

SUNOO :

The manor always felt different at twilight, golden light dripping through stained glass windows, shadows curling like paint on the floor. Normally, it suited Sunoo. He liked beauty, liked warmth, liked the world when it was soft and slow.

But tonight, the light felt wrong.

Muted. Stained.

Because the scent of your blood clung to the hallway like a bruise.

He found you in the small sunroom, sitting on the window bench where you used to watch the stars with him. But you weren’t watching anything now. Your knees were drawn to your chest, your sweater sleeve soaked with red where it pressed against your side. You were shivering, not from the cold, but from something deeper. Shock. Fear.

He dropped to his knees in front of you.

“Oh my god,” he breathed, hands flying to yours. “What happened?”

Your lashes fluttered as you looked at him, guilt swimming in your eyes. “It’s not that bad—”

“Don’t lie to me.”

His voice was soft, but it cracked like glass.

And then you whispered the name.

Sooha.

He froze.

Something inside him shifted. His spine straightened. The warmth in his eyes faded, not into anger, but something quieter. More lethal.

“Stay here,” he said, brushing your cheek with the backs of his fingers. “I’ll be right back.”

He stood, smoothing his coat like a prince about to attend a royal execution.

And then he went.

He found Sooha near the grand staircase, laughing lightly with one of the others. But her laughter died the second she saw Sunoo’s expression.

“Why do you look like that?” she asked.

“Did you touch her?” he asked. No preamble. Just a whisper, sweet and sharp.

Sooha’s lips thinned. “She was overstepping. This place isn’t hers.”

Sunoo took one step closer.

“You laid hands on her?” he asked again.

“She needed reminding,” Sooha said, shrugging. “She’s just—”

“Say human again.” His voice cut through the air like a blade. “Say it one more time like it makes her less than you, and I swear, I will make you regret ever walking through these doors.”

Sooha blinked. “You’re being ridiculous.”

“No.” His eyes were glowing now, pale and dangerous. “I’m being merciful.”

He didn’t lunge. Didn’t shout. But the pressure of the air changed. The light dimmed like the manor itself was siding with him.

“You don’t get to touch what’s mine,” he whispered. “You don’t get to bruise her skin and walk away like it didn’t matter.”

And then, his voice cracked, just slightly.

“She trusted you.”

That was the worst of it. The betrayal.

Sooha flinched. But Sunoo had already turned his back.

When he returned to you, you were still by the window, hugging your knees, but the moment you saw him, your face crumpled.

“I didn’t mean to cause trouble,” you said.

Sunoo sat beside you and wrapped his arms around your frame, gently drawing you into him. “You didn’t,” he said softly. “She did.”

You leaned your head on his chest.

“Sunoo…”

“I don’t care what anyone says,” he murmured, stroking your hair. “You belong here. With me. And no one, not even someone like her, gets to make you feel like you don’t.”

His lips brushed your temple.

“I’m not like the others. You know that.” His voice was quieter now. “If someone hurts you… I don’t forget. I don’t forgive.”

And when he pulled you closer, you realized just how far he would go to protect you.

Even from the ones who shared his blood.

JUNGWON :

The rain was falling so hard it drowned out the sounds of the manor itself.

Jungwon stood by the upper landing, staring through the tall windows at the storm outside, his fingers absently drumming against the banister. The others had gone quiet, too quiet. Even the usual echo of footsteps or low conversation had vanished beneath the thunder.

Something was wrong.

He could feel it before he smelled the blood.

The moment it hit him, your blood, he moved.

He took the stairs two at a time, shadows peeling back around him as if they knew to make way. When he found you near the library corridor, slumped against the wall with your hand clutched to your shoulder, his entire body went still.

You looked up at him, lips trembling, eyes wide and glassy with hurt.

“Jungwon…”

He dropped to your side immediately, his coat sweeping around you like a shield. “What happened?” he asked, voice low, calm, but behind his gaze was something burning.

You hesitated. Your fingers tightened over your wound.

“She was upset,” you whispered. “I think, she didn’t like that I’m here. That I’m… like her.”

It only took him a second to understand.

Sooha.

She had always been the only human in a house full of predators, had always carved a place for herself in the quiet spaces they gave her. But you weren’t just another human. You were soft. Kind. Honest. You made space for everyone, and without even trying, you’d drawn the one thing Sooha never could.

His attention.

“She said I was a pet,” you added, voice small. “That you’d get tired of me eventually.”

Jungwon inhaled slowly. Exhaled.

And stood.

He found Sooha in the sitting room, drying her hair with a towel, watching the storm as if she hadn’t done a thing wrong.

“Jealousy,” he said, his voice startling her. “It’s ugly on you.”

Sooha turned. “She doesn’t belong here, Jungwon. She’s not even—”

“Human?” he cut in, tilting his head. “Last I checked, so were you.”

“She’s different,” Sooha snapped. “She’s weak. You act like she matters more than the rest of us—”

“Because she does.”

The words were simple. Unapologetic.

Sooha reeled, mouth parting in disbelief. “Are you serious? You’d throw me aside for someone who’s been here five minutes?”

“You threw yourself aside,” he said, stepping forward now, eyes sharp enough to cut. “When you laid a hand on her, you made that choice.”

The weight in his voice turned the air electric.

“She trusted you,” he continued. “And instead of protecting someone like her, you tried to break her. Because you couldn’t stand being replaced.”

Sooha flinched.

He didn’t scream. Didn’t even raise his tone. But the storm outside seemed to echo his judgment.

“You’re not part of this coven anymore,” he finished. “Leave. Now.”

Sooha opened her mouth, but the finality in his stare silenced her.

When he returned to you, you hadn’t moved from the floor. He knelt and brushed your blood-matted hair from your forehead, hands steady but reverent.

“She’s gone,” he said quietly. “She won’t come near you again.”

You swallowed hard. “I didn’t want to cause a divide”

“You didn’t,” he said. “She did.”

You looked away, but he gently guided your face back to his. His touch was soft, but there was something fierce in his gaze.

“I don’t want you to doubt your place here,” Jungwon said. “Not for a second.”

“But I’m just—”

“You’re mine.”

His voice was calm. Grounded. And terrifyingly certain.

“And I’ll protect you, always. Even if it’s from one of our own.”

The storm outside roared on. But wrapped in his arms, you finally felt safe.

NIKI :

The manor was restless.

It wasn’t the storm this time, no thunder, no rain. Just a hush that crawled over the old halls like dust, heavy and unnatural. Ni-ki felt it the moment he woke, that eerie stillness that pressed against the windows and seeped into the walls.

Something had happened.

He moved fast, instincts tight and sharp, trailing through corridors that felt colder than usual. It wasn’t until he passed the eastern gallery that he caught the scent.

Blood.

Not vampire.

Yours.

He was running before his thoughts caught up. And when he found you in the alcove behind the staircase, curled in on yourself, your back against the stone wall, trembling, his breath caught in his throat.

“baby—”

He dropped to his knees beside you, panic flaring behind his eyes as he reached out, hands hesitating just before touching you. You looked up slowly, face pale, eyes rimmed with tears, and when you saw it was him, you exhaled in relief.

“She—” you whispered, and your voice cracked.

Ni-ki didn’t need the rest.

“Sooha,” he said under his breath, venom sharp on his tongue.

You nodded, barely.

“She said I don’t belong here,” you continued, and he could hear how hard you were trying not to cry. “That you already had a human. That I was just… taking up space.”

His jaw clenched.

“She pushed me. Hard. I hit the railing on the way down.”

He looked at your side, where the fabric of your shirt was stained dark. He inhaled shakily and stood.

“Don’t move,” he said, and his voice, usually playful, teasing, soft, was quiet and cold.

He found Sooha in the drawing room, alone. The moment she saw him, her expression twisted, defensive, smug.

“She’s fine,” she said before he even spoke. “Don’t be dramatic.”

Ni-ki didn’t speak.

He just stared at her.

“That human shouldn’t be here,” she added. “She doesn’t get it. She’s always following you around like some lost puppy—”

“Don’t talk about her.”

His voice dropped like a blade.

Sooha blinked.

“You laid hands on her?” he asked, stepping closer, his aura rolling out like a rising tide. “Because you were jealous?”

“Ni-ki, you don’t even know her that well. You’re just—”

“I know enough.”

His tone was flat. Final.

“You hurt her,” he continued, quietly. “And I don’t care what excuse you think you have. That’s not something I’ll let go.”

“She’s human,” Sooha snapped. “You’re a vampire. She doesn’t get to take up space in your world like it’s hers.”

“She doesn’t have to,” Ni-ki said. “Because it’s mine. And I chose her.”

Sooha flinched like he’d struck her.

He didn’t linger. He just turned and walked out, his footsteps muffled but certain.

When he returned to you, you were still where he left you, eyes a little duller, your breaths shallow. He crouched down again and helped you sit up properly, this time letting his hand rest gently on your back.

“She’s not going to come near you again,” he said. “I made sure of it.”

You looked at him, surprised by the seriousness in his voice.

“I didn’t mean to start anything.”

“You didn’t,” he said. “She did. And she’s gone now.”

You blinked slowly, the weight of everything finally hitting you. But when Ni-ki noticed your lip trembling, he reached out and wiped at your cheek before you could fully cry.

“I’m bad with this stuff,” he murmured. “But if you’re hurting… I want to know. I want to help.”

Your eyes met his.

“I care about you,” he added, voice softer now. “A lot more than I let on. So don’t shut me out, okay? Don’t disappear on me.”

And then, barely above a whisper:

“You’re mine, too.”

Not a demand.

Not a claim.

Just a truth, quiet, unwavering, and carved into the dark.

Word count : 4138 | serapharua, 2025.

[sugarushwriting]

vampire enhypen and you’re their human blood bank (part six!!???!)

jay isn’t happy with your decisions

neither is sunghoon

jake or heeseung

they became possessive over you and refuse to allow you to leave them

straight smut coming this chapter, forewarning. i will not warn anymore after the “keep reading” point. i am not the best at writing smut (jealous of those who can) so please be easy on me!!

next part (?) should not have heavy smut like this one or any at all. didn’t expect this many parts but hi, hello, here we are.

do not repost or translate. but please feel free to reblog, like, and comment! not proof read.

₍ᐢ. .ᐢ₎ ₊˚⊹♡

your leg nervously bounced while you waited in class for the professor to begin. students began whispering wondering why this class was mandatory. the girls were whispering wondering where jay was.

where was he? he made it a whole ordeal that you come to class today and he’s not even here?

the entire class period went by boringly, but the professor did talk about important things. maybe he did need to talk about it to everyone, but no need for it to have been mandatory and worth so many points.

as he dismissed class 10 minutes early, he called you to the podium where he stood.

“yes professor kong?” you asked adjusting your backpack on your shoulder.

“mr park needs to see you in his office. he says it’s about your recent grade.”

you stood frozen, “um, i thought i did okay on that paper?”

“he did too, but he said he found some things and he’s worried about plagiarism?”

“that’s ridiculous! all that work came from me and i made sure to reference correctly.”

the professor shrugged, “i haven’t seen it myself, and i trust mr park.”

well you didn’t. “thank you professor kong.” you nodded politely and walked out the classroom, an immediate ding to your phone notifying you had a text.

jay: come to my office. im watching you. don’t try to hide and run.

you read the text and huffed in annoyance. you looked around for him, but of course, if he didn’t want to be found by you, he wouldn’t.

you made your way to his office in the business building, which was luckily the same building class was held. you took the elevator to the top floor, and made your way to the end of the hallway were his small but cozy office was.

your university gave teaching assistants either their own office or shared office depending on the amount of work they would be doing for the professor. plus teaching assistants were required to hold office hours for extra help for students with a minimum of 2 hours a week. whether it was in person office hours or through zoom.

you raised your fist to knock, but startled when you felt a hot breath on your neck. quickly turning around, you came face to face with jay. your back flat against his door.

he reached beside you, unlocking the door. “go in.”

it wasn’t a question or statement. it was a demand. his tone was hushed, but deep. you recognize his authority tone he usually used on the guys.

you quickly turned back around and walked into his office.

he locked the door behind him, hands in his pocket and made no effort to talk to you.

“professor said you had worries about my paper?” you asked.

jay was behind his desk now, and his brown eyes snapped up from the drawer he was rummaging through. “your paper is fine.”

“but—,”

jays sharp eyes made contact with you and you quickly hushed. his irises were red.

jay grabbed a roll of duct tape and made his way towards you. he ripped off a piece, and when you went to ask what he was doing, he quickly placed it over your lips. again, he said nothing, until you lifted your arms to take off the tape.

“take off that tape and i will turn your ass black and blue.”

his tone was threatening, and even though usually you’d push back, something told you not to this time. you put your hands to your sides, waiting for his next move.

he took your bag off of your shoulder, then next, he taped your hands together in front of you.

he threw the tape off to the side, it clattering to the floor. jay stood in front of you, straight eye contact, pushing your body subtly to his desk, until your butt rested against it.

you’ve never seen jay so quiet. it terrified you to be honest. but you also felt a thrill. is he showing you his dominate side you’ve been asking for? or maybe this is his fed up side with your behavior. you knew you were to be mad at him. and you still was, however, for good sex? you might put it aside just for now.

jay roughly pushed you down on his desk, and put your arms to rest above your head. “move your hands and arms, and you won’t be able to lift them for weeks.”

another threat. you swallowed. jay wasted no time lifting your sweatshirt above your bra, and removing your sweatpants off your legs. without warning, jay slapped your underwear covered pussy—hard. like someone would slap an ass.

you tried to scream, but of course your mouth was covered so it was muffled. jay smirked.

he removed your underwear, throwing them over his shoulder, and pulled your bra down to expose your breast. he took each in one hand, gripping hard, causing pain. another muffled scream.

jay wasn’t being his usual gentle self. and you were thinking this is more than his dominate side.

your arms jerked, and jay raised a brow, waiting for you to move it, but you didn’t.

“good girl.” he praised, and you rolled your head to the side. he clicked his tongue on the root of his mouth, “nope, eyes on me the entire time.”

your head rolled back to meet jays eyes. “good to know you do listen.”

you were surprised when jays fangs extended. your eyes going wide. his kissed your jawline, the tape where your lips would be, and one kiss to you neck. he peppered kisses down your chest before his mouth latched on to a nipple, and you could feel his fangs slightly break skin.

another muffle scream came. he did it to the other breast. then he kissed down your stomach, occasionally scraping his fangs against your skin. your stomach recoiled at the slight touch, because one you were ticklish, second because you were nervous he was going to break skin fully, not just a tease.

he kissed down your body, your left thigh, left leg, then made his way back up your right leg, to your right thigh, stopping just inches away from your core. you could feel his hot breath fanning, and you wiggled a bit. he didn’t move. you whined behind the tape, earning a chuckle from jay.

your eyes closed as you waited for the sensation of his tongue licking your core. you didn’t notice jay was taking his pants and boxers off, stroking his cock twice, aligning himself to your entrance.

he roughly, swiftly, and quickly bottomed out, cause a deep groan of pleasure from his mouth. a loud muffled scream of pain came from your mouth behind the tape.

fuck you wasn’t expecting him to just bottom out like that. usually jay takes his time with slowly entering you. he always makes sure you’re wet enough.

“what a shame, usually you’re dripping for me. this time you’re barely wet.”

if you could talk you would scold him and say it’s because he didn’t give you time! he didn’t prep you!

he knew that. he wanted to bring you pain. a tear slipped from your eye. he didn’t give you time to adjust to his thickness when he started ramming in and out of you, at an unhuman speed and strength, or at least something you weren’t used to. his hands and fingers tightly gripped your thighs to hold you in place. your body rocked against his desk, scared it was going to break.

your eyes rolled to the back of your head, as jay mumbled incoherently under his breath. you couldn’t hear what he was saying, nor did you care.

not until you realized your arms left the place they were supposed to be, and went to wrap around jays neck.

he quickly removed himself, you moaning low from the loss of him, and he lifted you off the desk by pulling you by your taped hands.

“what did i tell you?” he asked through gritted teeth. your eyes went wide and he flipped you on your stomach, the cold surface hitting your bare breasts and stomach. your arms back reaching over your head, gripping the edge of the desk.

jay quickly entered you from behind, this time gripping your ass so tight, you really were gonna be black and blue after this.

all you could do was let muffled sounds escape from the tape as he hammered from behind, landing slaps to your ass.

his cock was reaching into your cervix, and you didn’t know to scream of pain or pleasure. tears now flowing out of your eyes.

your orgasm began building, and with jays sloppy and low sounds leaving his mouth, you knew he was close too.

it didn’t take long for him to come inside you. but just as you were so close, he removed himself and watched his come drip out of you.

you whined. you whined and cried because you were so close to your orgasm and he stopped! that wasnt like jay. he always made sure you orgasmed first, if not, at least made sure you had a successful orgasm.

you banged your fists on his desk in frustration, as his come slowly dripped out of your cunt, down your legs.

you began crying fully, because you just couldn’t control your emotions. your legs bucking, your knees going week. jay emotionless put his boxers and pants back on, lifting you up by your hair, leaning down to whisper in your ear.

“not nice when someone won’t listen to you huh? when they ignore you. when they ignore what you want and your needs.” jay snickered and dropped you back on the desk.

jay went to the other side of his desk, grabbing scissors from his drawer. no further word, he cut the tape from your bound hands, and lifted your chin from the desk, removing the tape—not so gently—from your lips.

but you were too wore out to even complain. you can’t fathom how you were tired. 2 simple positions, but jay used his strength and energy on you. he probably could’ve went harder, faster, but that might’ve killed you.

you lifted yourself on your forearms to look at jay, who still had that lazy smirk on his face. you lifted yourself fully, and when you went to lift your bra, you had to use two hands, but lost balance and fell to the ground. while lying there you lifted your bra to cover yourself again, and pulled down your sweatshirt. you reached over to grab your underwear that was lying on the ground next to you.

“you’re seriously gonna get dressed while lying down?”

you had no energy to even speak. you grabbed your underwear, but couldn’t even bend to put them on your legs.

jay sighed in frustration and disbelief (how dare he, jerk!!) and came to assist you with getting dressed. “good to know you can’t fight back. you’re coming home with me.”

︶꒦꒷♡꒷꒦︶

jay threw you onto a bed. you couldn’t even focus on who’s bed and room he brought you to. a small sound came from your throat. wasn’t even a full sentence. you said, “thirsty.”

jay nodded and left the bedroom. oh shit were you gonna die of thirst now? your limbs were still weak but you could slightly move. what the fuck happened?

footsteps could be heard and you saw sunghoon enter with a cup of what you’re assuming is water, hopefully.

sunghoon said nothing as he came closer to you, helping you sit up in the bed and brining the cup to your lips. he assisted you with drinking the water.

“thank you.” you finally said in a whisper.

“our baby doll can talk now.” he smiled and patted your head. he laid you back down on the bed. it must be his.

sunghoon hovered over you, straddling, as he took off his shirt with a smirk. “be prepared baby doll. you’re not gonna be able to move for a while once we’re done with you.”

his lips came down to yours, a rush kiss, as he swiftly took off your pants and underwear at once and lifted your sweatshirt to expose your belly.

you were so distracted by his tongue deep in your mouth, you didn’t feel or notice sunghoon taking off his own pants and boxers. it wasn’t until he rubbed his tip against your clit.

“ah,” you moaned out from the feeling. your body still not recovered from jays attack or lack of orgasm. was sunghoon not gonna prep you either? he loved to eat your cunt out, almost, almost, as much as jake.

this would also be your first time having sex with sunghoon.

your thoughts were answered when he entered into you, slightly slower than what jay did. sunghoon was longer than jay, but with slight less thickness to him.

your hands went to sunghoons shoulders to grip, and he bottomed out, a loud moan leaving his lips. “why have i never done this before?” he mumbled to himself. your walls gripping him snuggly. “baby doll you feel so good and right for me. for us.”

sunghoon found a pace rocking his hips against yours, you connecting your lips together to muffle the sounds. once he started to reach an orgasm, his paced picked up and so did the roughness of how he fucked you. he lifted his lips off of yours as his fangs extended and his teeth scraped your shoulder like a slight pinch and he buried his head in your shoulder.

“so so good, baby doll.” he moaned, using his hand to wrap one of your legs around his waist for a deeper and better angle.

your head tilted as far back as possible from the pleasure building in your stomach once again. “sunghoon, im close.” you groaned out, removing your hands from his shoulders to grab onto the headboard.

you felt sunghoon fill you up with his come, and you were worried he wouldn’t let you come, but he fucked his come deeper into you as you soon came as well with the loudest moan you’ve let slip past your lips.

maybe it was because of the first orgasm denial, so this one was so intense. it had your body shaking afterwards, specifically your legs and they went numb.

you were so tired, all you wanted to to was nap. not even caring as sunghoon pulled out, you closed your eyes.

︶꒦꒷♡꒷꒦︶

when you awoke, you were in a different bed, and heeseung was playing a game at his desk in front of you.

you tried to move your body but couldn’t. not because you were tied down, but because your body was so sore and worn out. the only thing you could do was let noises escape your mouth.

your whine caught heeseung’s attention from the game and he smiled seeing you awake. he turned off the game, coming to the bed beside you as you finally noticed him shirtless, only in pajama pants.

all you could do was stare. “baby, you’ve been sleep for hours. was starting to get worried i wouldn’t get my turn.” he pouted.

hours? you slept for hours? you turned your head to look out the window and saw dusk was falling. what time was it?

you mentally did math—okay so class ended around 11:40, you met jay at his office around 12. how long did that last? a hour? maybe longer? then what about sunghoon? how long did that go?

with the light, it had to be around 5 or 5:30 in the evening. “time?” you croaked out.

heeseung smiled. “it’s almost 5, baby.” he pulled you to the edge of the bed, so your feet hung off the edge, your butt close to it. “i’m glad jay and sunghoon didn’t go too hard. was worried you wouldn’t be able to take me or jake.”

wait, they all were going to fuck you? and what does he mean they didn’t go too hard? you could barely move or speak!

you tried to form words, but your mind turned to mush when heeseung got on his knees and lifted both of your legs so they were over his shoulder. “i can’t wait to finally taste you.” he whispered against your inner thigh.

that’s when you finally realized, you were only in an oversized shirt and some boxers. you didn’t know who dressed you in it. maybe sunghoon or maybe heeseung.

heeseung kissed your cunt through the boxers, his nose burying itself to inhale deeply. he pressed open mouth kisses all along both of your thighs, before his vampire fangs felt like a pinch to your thigh. you jerked, but heeseung held you in place. his teeth scraped against your inner thigh, a moan leaving your lips as you turned your head to the side, and ran your fingers through is hair.

he swiftly took the boxers off your legs and lifted the shirt up above your belly button. no warning, heeseungs tongue swiped between your folds, your legs tightening around his neck as he buried himself between your legs like he was home. he licked, sucked, bit, nibbled, all he could on your cunt, clit and in between.

“fuck you taste too good baby. no wonder jake and sunghoon love to be buried between your legs.” heeseung sighed in pleasure, as he continued his attack. meanwhile, your head was rocking side to side, your eyes rolling to the back of your head, all while holding heeseung in place by your legs and your fist in his hair. the harder you gripped he would bite.

you were nearing your third orgasm of the day, but before you could let heeseung know you were close, he removed his delightful lips and tongue from your cunt, kissing up your stomach, lifting the shirt higher above your breasts, to your neck, still leaving open mouth kisses, licks, and occasionally nipping with his fangs.

you whine at the loss, heeseung smiling against your skin. his lips met yours in a sloppy kiss, you tasting yourself on his lips and tongue.

his lips made their way back to your breasts, his lips wrapping around one nipple, you sensitive to the feeling. another moan left your mouth, but then a louder moan mixed with a yelp came next as without warning, heeseungs fingers entered your cunt.

not one. not two. but three of his long fingers, knuckle deep. your body jerked at the feeling, but it caused heeseung to bite your nipple, your cunt growing wetter every second, and even wetter than before due to the bite.

“so so wet for me.” heeseung smiled then did the same attack on your other breast and nipple. he was loving the loud sounds coming from your wet cunt.

now, one hand was in heeseungs hair, the other on his muscular back as his fingers rocked in and out at a fast and bruising pace. “mhm heeseung.” you moaned out in between taking deep breaths. even without his cock he was filling you up deliciously.

your walls clamped tighter on his fingers, so he kept the speed of his fingers, his thumb rubbing circles on your clit. his tongue licked and sucked your nipple harder, his fangs making another appearance with a pinch.

it sent you over the edge. you came hard. your juices soaked his fingers, leaking onto the edge of the bed, down your thighs, and down his stomach.

you let out the loudest moan you ever had, and your chest heaved up and down as you chased oxygen as you felt so breathless.

you weren’t done. you kept coming and coming for at least a full 2 minutes, your body weakening every second as heeseung continued moving his fingers to your orgasm.

it wasn’t until tears filled your eyes that heeseung removed his fingers and lifted his body off of yours as you shook. you couldn’t imagine taking his cock right now.

“you’ll get my cock another time, baby.” he whispered against your forehead, easing your mind for the time being.

your eyes began to close as exhaustion took over.

︶꒦꒷♡꒷꒦︶

different bed. you woke up in a different bed and next to a different body. your eyes slowly opened to the darkness both outside and in the room.

your heartbeat sped up to not knowing your surroundings. you felt familiar lips on your neck with a kiss and a familiar aussie accent, “you had us so worried baby.”

you swallowed, trying to find your voice. “sorry.” your voice cracked. “im so sorry.” you apologized. this was your punishment for ignoring them. they were letting you know, you were theirs.

“it’s okay baby. we know you won’t do it again.” jake sighed and began sucking on your neck.

you knew jake had a high sex drive. even before he became a damn vampire. you could only imagine how becoming a vampire upped it. usually when he feasted on you, he could stay for hours eating you out, giving you multiple orgasms in a short time period.

“jakey im tired.” you pouted hoping jake would give you a break.

“don’t worry baby, just lay there, jakey will do all the work.”

and he did. you laid flat on the bed like a damn mannequin. your mind couldn’t even focus on whatever jake was doing. you just remember the cold air hitting your naked skin, his lips, his tongue, his teeth, all over your body.

jake gripping your thighs so tight you were sure handprints would be left behind, along with his nails digging into your skin.

you moaned, whined, and cried. jake was enjoying it so much. he didn’t care if you couldn’t participate back. as long as his lips were somewhere on your body he was happy.

between your legs, your thighs, devouring your cunt. your breast, nibbling your breasts. your lips for sloppy kisses, spit mixing between your mouths.

he moved you onto your stomach so he could eat you out from behind. he positioned your body so your head was buried in the sheets, your hands by your side, your ass in the air.

jake feasted, slobber and spit running down your leg. or was it come? did you orgasm? you were so tired maybe you did and didn’t even know.

jake mumbled, “so wet baby. coming so much just from my tongue.”

your mouth was so dry.

jake landed a slap to your ass, you groaned in reaction, and jake smiled liking that you finally responded to stimuli.

next you felt long slender fingers enter your cunt from behind, this time you bit into the sheets. your cunt genuinely could not handle anything else.

jake pumped his fingers at an ungodly speed, or what felt like it, your screams muffled by the sheets of his bed. your hands found the strength to grip onto the sheets.

“come again for me baby. i know you want to.”

and you did. you don’t know what orgasm number this was. you don’t know how long you orgasmed for. you just know your body could not take anymore.

you cried, shaking your head. “no more jakey, please. i—i am so sorry.” you sniffled.

jake shushed you, rubbing your back trying to get you to take deep breaths through your sobs. “it’s okay baby, no more.” he kissed your back. you collapsed onto the bed.

jake got off the bed, and helped you sit up, bringing a cup to your lips. “drink some water baby.”

you did. he had to help you, get you to slowly drink as if you tried to drink to fast, it would miss your lips and dribble down your chin.

once done, he laid you back down, covering up your naked body.

you cried yourself to sleep being so worn out from your body being wrecked by 4 vampires.

₍ᐢ. .ᐢ₎ ₊˚⊹♡

[cutehoons02]

Bad Romance

Desire:Unleash Jake pt Sunghoon pt

*pairirng: CEO dad vampire Park Jay x baby-sitter human Girl

*pairirng: grumpy x sunshine

*pairirng: Jay has only one wish: to be a good father and always be there for his daughter. Jenù was born from a meaningless one-night stand, and six months after her birth, a staff member at the Park Society found a baby girl with forest-green eyes and tiny red flecks, Jay’s same smile, and the same birthmark on his neck. She came with a note from the girl who couldn’t handle becoming a mother—especially not to a child who was half-human, half-vampire. Since that day, years passed. Jay had fired over twenty babysitters human, vampire, witch, and more—until one day, Sunghoon’s girlfriend told her best friend, who was struggling financially, that Jay was looking for a new babysitter. From that moment on, your life, as well as Jay’s and Jenù’s, changed forever. You are bold, dangerous, always sarcastic and you adore Jenù. But to Jay, a vampire over 300 years old, you're a dangerous distraction, especially when you're around his daughter. He's gruff and strict, only softening when he's with her, and in his eyes, you're just a reckless young woman… with blood that tempts him too much and a mouth that's far too bold.

*pairirng: At first Jay finds you extremely annoying and thinks that you are just an irresponsible girl but slowly she falls in love with you, you love teasing him, Jenù (Jay’s daughter) many times takes your side, warnings, overprotective dad, a lot of kisses, bites, Blood reference, masturbation (f) reverse cowgirl, (bath sex) unprotected sex (don’t horny ppl) Jay would like to put on family with you, jealousy, white lies, possession, Jay is a secular vampire, +18, pet names (little human,treasure,maiden)

19k (🍷)

Being a twenty-two-year-old girl in Seoul in 2025 was a form of legalized fraud. When you were little, they told you that you could become anything if you behaved well if you were pretty and kind to everyone, if you got good grades both in school and at university—but it was all bullshit. At twenty-three, you had become an exhausted student, an underpaid barista, and a living statistic in Gen Z burnout.

You went back and forth from your university like it was a punishment mission: classes at 9 a.m., then a huge gap until 5 p.m., and in between a barista shift at a coffee shop that looked cute only on Instagram, infested with screaming fans and idol-themed drinks that all tasted like sugar, bubblegum, and despair. The café you worked at was in central Seoul, where all the K-pop agency buildings were, where the idols trained, andrecorded music and so every day, you had to witness a swarm of crazed fans coming in to buy coffee or snap photos just because, once, their favorite idol had taken a picture and signed an album at your "K-pop themed" café.

The coffee you served was awful, the K-pop playlist? As repetitive as a nightmare on a loop. And don’t even get started on the pay. It was trash. Only your vanilla-whipped cappuccino gave you some reason to exist in the morning as you walked into the shop, still with toothpaste in your mouth and zombie's eyes after staying up the night before to study. And it was that very coffee that saved you today. Your best friend was already sitting, stunning as always, with two cups in her hands, and she handed you one with a smirk.

"You look like a zombie but an adorable one!" she said, ruffling your hair. "I am a zombie. A living, labor-exploited zombie. Used and abandoned by God." You yawned and dropped into the chair with the dignity of a wrinkled T-shirt. She giggled, and you envied her a little always so fresh, fragrant, happy, dating a vampire CEO who took her around the world like she was a model and not a former student from your department.

"At least you have a boyfriend who takes you to Paris and New York. I’ve got a professor who smells like ginseng and depression," you said, eyeing the latest designer bag she had resting on her thighs and shivering at the sight of the bite marks from Sunghoon’s fangs. She bit her lip, which was never a good sign—especially since you’d known her since high school.

"Don’t be mad, okay?" she said with that pouty little smile, and you immediately rolled your eyes. "If you say ‘don’t be mad,’ it means I will be mad," you said, closing your eyes and resting your head on the table. "I gave your resume to Jay Park." You groaned and curled further into yourself. That name gave you chills worse than the morning cold.

Jay: the other CEO and Sunghoon’s business partner, one of the richest and most famous company owners in all of Korea. The aristocratic, brooding vampire with that predatory gaze, zero smiles and zero emotions.

"You’re insane," you snapped, glaring at your best friend. "He’s looking for a babysitter, and you love kids," she said like it was a normal thing to hand over your CV to that man. "Jay Park isn’t looking for a babysitter. He’s trying to scare the human race into extinction. And I don’t like him." "Don’t be dramatic. He has a daughter, and she’d adore you. Jenù is a sweetheart," your best friend said, sipping her cappuccino. “His daughter, maybe. He’d throw me into the Han River after my first yawn."

She laughed and leaned closer to you. "He’d give you room, board, and a real salary. No more rent. We could use my old apartment as an office or study space, and you could finally stop serving frappés or coffees with idol faces on top." You shivered again because deep down, the idea was horrible but the offer was tempting. And… the only beautiful thing about Jay Park was his daughter: Jenù. You’d seen her twice, and both times, you saw a small, shining heart trapped in the darkness of a broken father.

The Park Society building rose in the heart of Seoul like an elegant shadow: a black glass tower carved into the sky, surrounded by soft lights and windows that looked more like a Gothic castle than the headquarters of a modern multinational. It was a place where power had a very specific scent: amber, smoke, and control. With trembling fingers, you adjusted your spaghetti-straight hair as you stared at your reflection in the mirrored elevator. Your makeup was simple, almost student-like—or maybe too simple, considering all the perfect vampire women who worked for him—but the black blazer over your white shirt gave you just enough of a grown-up look to distract from your smart jeans and the only pair of heels you could walk in. In your mind, heels were for graduations, parties, or… interviews with billionaire vampires. You hated them, even though you studied fashion and knew a heel could turn any basic outfit into something chic. But when the doors opened, the scene was surreal. Humans rushed back and forth, buried under phones, laptops, and documents. Vampires, flawless like living statues, walked silently among them as if the entire world were a board game and they were the main pieces. Everyone moved under one name: Jay Park. Jay wasn’t just one of the most powerful vampires in Korea—he was a living legend in both the human and supernatural worlds. For over three centuries, he’d been turning bankrupt companies into empires, and random numbers into frighteningly accurate predictions. And then there was his charm: deadly, cold, magnetic. Yet somehow, every woman dreamed of having him. He was intelligent, carried himself like an old-world gentleman, always had a sharp remark ready, and was the kind of man or rather, creature who could break you with a single look or word. But for the past few years, the world had discovered one detail that made him… just a little bit human. He had become a father.

The news had exploded in the tabloids like a bomb. A half-human, half-vampire child had been found on the doorstep of the Park Society building, wrapped in a violet blanket with only a letter in her tiny hands. From that day forward, Jay Park swore he would give everything for Jenù, his daughter and he did. With obsessive control. With fierceness. With protection. With love. Jenù was adorable. Barely four years old, but already had the face of a little star: huge wine-colored eyes, golden skin inherited from her father, and a smile that melted even immortal hearts. Under her father’s strict supervision, she’d already become a model for famous brands—probably earning more in a month than you did in six. And you? You were just standing there with a crumpled resume in your bag, half a hope, and a heartbeat pounding way too fast. Because you knew—everyone knew—that Jay only wanted the best for his daughter. And he had already fired twenty-nine babysitters. You, with your all-too-human clumsiness, your big mouth, and your incurable curiosity, silently prayed not to become number thirty. You sat down on the black leather chair in front of the marble desk of his secretary, a woman in her fifties with a tight bun and a powder-pink tailored suit. She didn’t even look up from her screen as she said, in a monotone voice,

-Mr. Park and Miss Jenù are expecting you. You may go in.- The phone rang at that exact moment, and while she answered with chilling professionalism, she gave you a small hand gesture, pointing toward the dark double doors behind her.

When you stood up, your heart was beating in your temples, and your fingers clutched the strap of your bag tightly. Your heels, though uncomfortable, suddenly felt like they were made to give you strength. The secretary led you to the door, and just before opening it, she whispered with a hint of a smile, -Good luck.-

Yeah… that was already a bad sign. If Jay Park’s secretary told you good luck, you knew you were in trouble. But honestly, what did you have to lose?

Nothing. Worst case? He wouldn’t like you, and you'd see him maybe twice a year—at your best friend’s birthday and Sunghoon’s. So, when the door opened, a scent enveloped you instantly: the sugary sweetness of fruit gummies mixed with something much older, deeper, warmer… like aged whiskey in oak barrels and ancient blood.

The office was huge, silent, bathed in soft light filtering through heavy curtains. The desk stood in front of a floor-to-ceiling window that overlooked all of Seoul, and behind it, staring at his monitor, was Jay Park. He was typing something on the keyboard with fast, precise hands and didn’t even lift his gaze when he spoke in a deep, neutral voice:

“Introduce yourself briefly. Tell me your work experience, and whether you’ve worked with children. Speak now or you can leave, I don’t like wasting time.”

Damn. Welcome to corporate hell, you thought. With an aristocratic vampire as your judge. But you didn’t look at him right away. Your eyes were immediately drawn to her. A little girl with long brown hair tied into two messy braids and large forest-green eyes speckled with reddish flecks, catching the light like gemstones a clear sign of mixed blood. She stared at you, serious and curious, with an unopened candy in her fingers.

You crouched slightly and smiled, offering her your hand, which looked so big next to hers.

“Nice to meet you. I’m Y/n.”

Jenù looked down at your hand, touched it with fingers slightly cold but strangely warm like a heart that hasn’t decided whether to beat or not and then, solemnly, said: 'Nice to meet you. I’m Jenù.'

She showed you her little teeth, a mix of human and vampire, and you giggled. “The candies you’re eating… those are my favorites too,” you whispered like it was a secret between partners in crime. “But when I was in elementary school, I ate so many I had to get four cavities filled because of all the sugar.”

Her eyes widened, then she laughed a clear, bright sound that cracked the tension in the room. 'Daddy only gives them to me when I do something good. Like… saving the world.' You leaned forward, resting your hands on your knees like you always did with kids. 'Oh? And what good thing did you do today to earn them?' Jenù wrinkled her nose and said proudly, 'I helped Uncle Hoon hide some documents before that annoying yelling lady found them.'

You barely held in a laugh, but a smile escaped your lips. 'Oh yeah, that counts as saving the world—at least a little.' Then she looked at you with a solemn expression and repeated, 'Work experience. Have you worked with children? Speak now, we don’t have much time.' You froze for a second, then burst into a light laugh.

“Wow. You’ll make a perfect heir to your dad’s company. You’ve learned well.” And only then did you lift your gaze toward him. Jay was watching you. Still, unmoving, mouth slightly open as if he hadn’t expected someone to walk into that room and ignore him completely. As if seeing his daughter laugh like that so naturally, was something he missed… or feared. But you didn’t look away. You didn’t bow, and you didn’t care about the social gap between you. You looked at him like a man who didn’t scare you yet, and that threw him off.

Jay clenched his jaw, and when he spoke again, his voice was lower.“You’re not like the others.” And you, with a boldness that surprised even yourself, replied, “Good thing. Otherwise, I’d already be out that door, right?” Jay clenched his jaw again as you extended your hand toward him. It was such a simple, common gesture, but the way you did it straightforward, without hesitation, with that annoyingly human and confident gaze caught him off guard for a moment.

Still, he took it. The contact was brief, but enough to confuse you.

What was that spark? Fear? Anxiety? Warmth? Desire? You couldn’t tell.

But he was… too much. “Nice to meet you, I’m Y/n. I don’t know if you remember me, but we met at Sunghoon’s birthday and my best friend T/l’s, who’s also his girlfriend.” You smiled, a little too brightly for his stiffness. “I’ve worked with kids a lot even back in high school. Right now, I work at an idol-themed coffee shop… which is babysitting, but with screaming thirteen-year-olds obsessed with photocards and smoothies with idols’ faces on them that cost almost as much as dinner.”

Jay looked up from your resume and fixed his sharp gaze on you.“You talk too much.” You laughed lightly, brushing some hair from your face.

“It’s one of my superpowers. It usually works well with kids… and customers who haven’t had their coffee yet.” From the desk, Jenù stood up on tiptoe, came closer, and studied you from head to toe. Then she grabbed your hand in her small fingers. 'Daddy, look!' she said, pointing at your decorated nail. 'She has a tiny teddy bear on her finger! I want one too!' Jay raised an eyebrow, and his gaze dropped to your hands.

“Not very professional, but… I suppose it’s better than the red witch claws the last babysitter had.” Jenù laughed out loud, and you leaned closer to her. “When you’re older, you’ll be able to have them too. But for now… maybe we can draw them on with markers. What do you think?”

'Really?!' she beamed, eyes sparkling.

“You shouldn’t make promises you can’t keep,” Jay interrupted, his voice low and controlled, but irritated at seeing his daughter so enchanted by a woman who wasn’t his mother—or grandmother. You turned to him calmly and replied with a steady tone, “You don’t crush a child’s imagination, Mr. Park. You adapt it. And besides…” You turned back to Jenù with a warm smile. “It’s a small promise. And small promises are meant to be kept.”

Jay gave a low, almost inaudible growl—like an animal being disturbed. But Jenù ended the conversation with a decisive tone: 'I want her. Daddy, I like her as my babysitter.' She turned quickly to you and grabbed your hand again. 'Do you know how to do braids?' “I can do braids, ponytails, crown twists, even bows made of hair. Want me to show you?”

Jenù nodded eagerly. 'Daddy took two months to learn! He watched a bunch of TikToks and YouTube videos and kept messing up!' She covered her mouth with her little hands, and you did the same, laughing softly. “Two months? Really?” you asked curiously, glancing at the man in the suit sitting across from you. 'Swear!” she laughed. “The first time I looked like a cactus!'

Jay gave her a look, but it wasn’t stern. It was intriguing. Slightly amused by what was unfolding. And silently, he watched the scene with a strange gleam in his eyes. His daughter was at ease. Smiling. Bonding with someone in mere minutes—something that never happened. You gently tapped her nose.

“But hey, don’t tease your daddy too much. He did something really sweet for you. Not every dad would learn how to braid hair for their little girl.” Jenù lowered her gaze and nodded as if those words had landed right in her chest. Then she ran behind the desk, and Jay picked her up with almost shocking tenderness, lifting her in one fluid motion. She wrapped her arms around his neck and whispered something in his ear.

He turned back to you. “You start this weekend,” he said, voice flat, but eyes sharp and fixed on you. “Don’t make me regret letting you near my daughter.”

You smiled. “I won’t, Mr. Park,” you said. “I get attached to children easily but only to them. Adults… are more complicated.” Jay raised an eyebrow. “Welcome to hell, then.”

Jay Park’s apartment looked like it had been pulled straight out of a luxury design magazine. The moment you stepped inside, your eyes widened and you muttered under your breath, "Why wasn’t I born into some rich, aristocratic family too…"

The enormous sofa in the center of the living room looked so soft it could probably swallow anyone who dared sit on it. In front of it, a massive 55-inch TV was embedded into a wall of matte black glass. On the low shelf below, a perfectly aligned series of framed photos caught your eye and instantly melted your heart.

Jay and Jenù smiling, goofy, captured in candid moments of quiet intimacy that no one would ever expect from a centuries-old vampire with perfect hair. There were photos of them at the pool, at the beach, dressed for the mountains with Jenù riding on Jay’s shoulders. All four birthday photos were there too every year—with him, his daughter, and the ever-present trio: Jake, Heeseung, and Sunghoon, Jay’s best friends and Jenù’s honorary uncles. From the open kitchen with its central white marble island, full of fancy utensils and high-end appliances. you could see Namsan Tower rising over the misty hills, bathed in the golden glow of sunset.

“It’s… breathtaking,” you whispered to yourself, more than to them, as your eyes wandered around the house. Jenù grabbed your hand and tugged you down the hallway.

'Come see my room! It’s the best room of all the rooms!' Her room looked like a private theme park. It had everything: miniature castles, stuffed animals, tables with puzzles, “educational” human toys… and some things that had to be vampire toys (like a doll that moved its eyes on its own and had tiny fangs—and stared at you for a bit too long for your comfort).

But it was her actual bedroom that took your breath away. A gothic Disney princess kingdom: blush pink and black velvet everywhere, a canopy bed with hidden lights, glow-in-the-dark stars on the ceiling, hand-embroidered pillows, and closets full of dreamy little dresses. You wanted to be a kid again just for one night to sleep there and play with all the toys you used to dream about having.

'And… that’s Daddy’s room,' she said, pointing to a sleek dark door. 'You can only use it if there’s an emergency,' she added, extremely serious.

Behind her, Jay appeared like an elegant shadow, leaning against the doorframe.

Rule number one: no entering my room. Ever. Unless it’s a real emergency.”

His eyes scanned you from head to toe. “And by ‘emergency,’ I don’t mean ‘I need the Wi-Fi password’ or ‘where are the chips.’”

You raised an eyebrow and muttered dramatically,

“I have no intention of entering the wolf’s den… oh, wait, the wrong creature. You’re a vampire.” You bit your lip, and Jay shook his head slowly while Jenù giggled, covering her mouth. Jay shot you a sharp, slightly intrigued look. He then led you to what would be your room on the nights you stayed over. It was simple but elegant a queen bed, a reading nook, a private bathroom, and… a breathtaking view of the Han River.

You walked over to the little table by the window and noticed a neatly printed sheet of paper. There were two columns, one titled "Human Rules", the other "Vampiric Rules", and above them, bold text read:

HOUSE RULES – FOR EVERYONE’S SURVIVAL

(Edited 7 times, updated after the Exploding Plush Incident)

Human Section

No candy after 7:00 p.m. (Unless it’s Saturday and Jenù has saved the world.)

No watching TV shows with a yellow or red warning icon.

Never leave Jenù alone in the bathroom. NEVER. You must stay with her at all times.

Do not wake up Daddy if he’s resting after a “red” meeting.

No incense or garlic in the kitchen. (Seriously.)

Vampire Section

If you hear whispers or strange noises at night, ignore them. It’s probably the neighbor. Or… maybe not.

If Jenù says there’s a shadow under the bed, it’s probably just her imagination—but check anyway. Safety comes first.

Do not open the small fridge on the left. You’ll only open it if I tell you to because it contains blood vials from the Blood Bank—the specific type Jenù drinks.

If I say “disappear,” then disappear. But stay within three meters of Jenù.

If you need to call me about a problem… count to 3. Then call. (Doesn’t apply to real emergencies: fire, blood, accidents.)

You burst out laughing.

“This is the most dramatic list of rules I’ve ever read. I’m 22, not 3—I can handle myself,” you said as you scanned the quirky guidelines. Jay shot you a death glare. “They’re not funny. Those rules could literally save your life.” “Wow, okay, Dracula 2.0, but seriously live a little. I’m not worried, and more importantly, Jenù will be fine with me.” He crossed his arms, voice dropping lower.

“Even if you’re the best friend of Sunghoon’s girlfriend, that doesn’t mean I trust you. Not yet and maybe never. I don’t know who you are, I don’t know if you’re good for my daughter, and I’m not about to find out the hard way. So follow those rules, and we’ll get along.” Your smile faltered for just a second before you lifted your chin and replied,

“Then watch me, Mr. Park. It doesn’t take much for me to prove I’m capable of what I do and I do know how to take care of a four-year-old. Maybe you’re the one keeping her too tightly bound to rules that are… a little questionable.”

For a moment, silence. Only the muffled sound of Jenù giggling in the other room. Then he turned away. “Dinner’s at seven. And don’t you ever presume to tell me what’s right or wrong for my daughter again.” 

It had been almost two weeks. Two weeks in which, to your surprise, you were still there. Still in Jay Park’s house, still “working” for him—though by now, it felt less like a job and more like a secret, comforting routine you’d grown to love. Jenù had slipped under your skin with the same ease she used to grab your hand when crossing the street or when telling you her wild dreams full of dancing bats and floating castles.

Every day, after your university classes, you pick her up from ballet or theater. Her cheeks always flushed, her bun always undone—and the moment she saw you, she’d run into your arms with the biggest smile and two tiny teeth… a little sharper than the day before. And she’d look at you like you were more than a babysitter, something she secretly wished all her friends had too. One evening, in the bathtub, while she played with bubbles, she nearly gave you a heart attack by flashing her canines proudly:

'Look, they’re coming in! Daddy says it’ll be my ‘change’ soon… Are you scared?' You’d fake-faint in fear at her little growl and she’d burst into laughter, sending water flying everywhere. Colorful bubbles filled the bathroom, and every day the bath bombs smelled like something sweet or floral. It had become your favorite part of the day—watching her relax and play with vampire-shaped toys, rubber duckies with fangs, or little fish that sprayed water. You often made a mess together in the kitchen, and she’d solemnly swear:

'I won’t tell Dad, I promise. Not even under hypnosis.' She’d pinky swear it, and every weekend you baked something: chocolate chip cookies, banana bread, muffins… One time you even decorated them with bright red sugar “fake blood.” When Jay got home and saw them, he stood in front of you, arms crossed, voice low and sharp:

“You just put fake blood on pastries for my daughter to eat. Do you have any idea how irresponsible that is...”

He didn’t get to finish. You burst out laughing right in the face of his CEO-dad-vampire attitude, and something in him softened for the first time since you’d met. He huffed… then actually smiled. A real smile with fangs on full display: long, slender, lethal… and disturbingly attractive to your messed-up mind that kept whispering you should stay away from him.

That evening, after washing dishes with Jenù—covered in flour and syrup, with a bat-shaped crêpe you named “Bat-crepe”—you both snuggled under a pink-and-black blanket on the couch.

“Have you ever watched Monster High?” you asked. She gave you a suspicious look, raising one eyebrow just like her father.

'Daddy doesn’t let me watch horror stuff.' “It’s not horror, I swear! They’re girls… monstrously fashionable. One’s Dracula’s daughter, one’s a mummy, another’s like… a super-stylish werewolf. And they all go to a school for magical creatures. My favorite’s Draculaura—I wonder who yours will be.”

Jenù was quiet for a moment. Then she said, 'If you say it’s not scary… I trust you.' You pulled up YouTube, found the first episode, and as the bright, catchy theme song started, Jenù began bouncing her shoulders.

'I like the music!' she said, waving her arms, and when Draculaura, Cleo de Nile, Frankie Stein, Lagoona Blue, and Clawdeen Wolf appeared on screen, she pointed. 'Her! The one with the fangs! She’s so pretty!'

“That’s Draculaura! That’s exactly her!” you nodded. “She’s like 1600 years old, totally vegan, and always has trouble with her wings—but she’s adorable.” Jenù slowly nestled against you. It was the first time she did it without thinking, without saying anything. She gave you her tiny, warm hand, and in a soft voice while watching the show, she whispered:

'I wish I could go to a fashion monster school too.' You gently stroked her forehead. “You already do, sweetheart. You’re a stylish little monster.” She smiled, and you swore right then and there you never wanted to move from that moment again.

The sharp sound of the door opening broke the spell on the couch. You and Jenù turned your heads in perfect sync, like a well-rehearsed choreography. Confident footsteps echoed on the polished parquet, followed by the soft creak of shoes being taken off and set neatly by the entrance.

Jay was home.

You watched him walk into the living room: hair tousled from the wind, jacket slung over his shoulder, tie slipping through his fingers. He unbuttoned the top two buttons of his crisp white shirt and yes, you lingered there a second too long. His skin was warm-toned, golden-amber in color, so unlike Sunghoon’s pale, moonlit coolness. Sunghoon looked sculpted from Nordic marble.

But Jay… Jay was like liquid honey over dark stone. With every inch of skin revealed, your cheeks burned hotter. You couldn't stop staring as he loosened his custom-tailored suit and then, his eyes locked with yours.

He froze. Time seemed to hang off his frame. His eyes narrowed, sharp—like he was reading you like he knew exactly what was running through your head. His jaw tightened just slightly.

Shit. You felt it. Knew it, without a word. He didn’t like that look in your eyes, too curious, too bold but… he didn’t look away either. Luckily, Jenù broke the tension, bounding toward him with bubbling excitement.

“Appa! We’re watching Monster High! There’s Draculaura! She has teeth like mine!” Jay crouched slightly to catch her as she launched into his arms. He shot you a look sharp enough to cut through bone. You braced for his usual complaints.

“Monster High?” he asked, turning slowly toward you. “I told you I don’t want her watching scary stuff. She’s too young.” You raised your hands in mock surrender, flashing a diplomatic smile. “Jay, come on. The scariest thing in this show is how Ghoulia talks. Maybe Cleo’s shrieking fits. But monsters? They’re fashion bloggers.” He narrowed his eyes. “I don’t like you putting ideas in her head. Influences form now. Today it’s Draculaura, and tomorrow she’s wearing black capes and bat-winged platforms.”

You bit your tongue to avoid pointing out those exact shoes were already part of two Korean brands’ fall/winter collections but before the argument could escalate, Jenù took control.

“Appa, why don’t we all watch it together? Just one episode. Then you’ll see if it’s okay.” Jay kissed her forehead, sighed, and nodded. “Alright. I’ll go change first. Ten minutes.” He gave you one last glance slow, calculated. A look like velvet… with blades sewn in.

A mix of unspoken disapproval… and something else. You looked away, pulse a little shaky. You squeezed Jenù’s hand, reminding yourself where you stood but when the theme song kicked back in and the little girl began to dance, for one perfect moment, you forgot everything.

Everything… except her little fanged smile and maybe, just a little, that golden vampire who would be back in ten minutes. When Jay returned to the living room, he paused in the doorway. The scene was almost surreal.

You and Jenù were curled up together, eyes glued to the screen, giggling at an absurd scene where Cleo de Nile ranted about how everyone dressed at school and how she was the only one with real taste. Jenù laughed so hard she had to cover her mouth with her hand. Then she looked at her father, eyes shining:

“Appaaaa, this cartoon is so good! I wanna go to a school like Monster High!” Jay raised an eyebrow, dropped his tie on the sideboard, and gave her a strange little smile tender and oddly conspiratorial.

“For you, my little one… I might just build you one.” He brushed her hair back, and your heart pinched for a second. The deep voice, the strict face… and then that look, that melted only for her. Jay came over and sat on the couch next to Jenù. But she turned to him with a firm look: “No! I wanna sit here!” and before he could respond, she crawled right into his lap, curled into his chest, burying her little head into the crook of his neck.

Cleo screamed again onscreen. Jenù giggled. Jay cracked a joke: “She sounds just like you when you can’t find your pink headband.”Jenù smacked his chest with her hand: “Appa! Not true!” “Alright, Miss Fashion—who’s your favorite?” you asked Jenù with a grin.“The same as yours! Draculalla!” she shouted, mispronouncing it adorably.

“Draculaura,” you corrected, giggling.

“Yes, her! She’s pink and black and makes braids better than Appa!” You scooted closer—partly because Jenù reached out her hand to pull you in. Your knees brushed Jay’s. You felt… warmth. He gave you a glance, then murmured with that deep voice:

“Careful… You’re starting to look like part of the monster family. And no one gets out of that." “Wow. Romantic threats, Jay. Very on-brand,” you muttered, eyes rolling playfully. “Watch the sass… or I’ll put you in time-out with Cleo,” he said, smirking faintly.

Jenù quickly cut in: “Appa, be nice! I like her. I love her.” Jay raised an eyebrow. “And what have I taught you about saying that, Jenù?”

She straightened her back, proud as ever: “That you only say ‘I love you’ if you  trust someone.” “And you’ve known her barely a month…” he started.

But Jenù shut him down with that fearless honesty only children have: “But I do trust her. A lot. And I like her so much.” She took your hand in hers, small and warm. You squeezed it back, your heart melting. Jay watched. Something inside him broke or maybe healed. Something he didn’t quite recognize: the warmth of your presence, the blind trust his daughter gave you, your hands always linked—ready to go anywhere and something shifted inside him. A knot. A flicker a need not just physical (though that was there too—boiling under the skin every time he looked at you)

No. This was something deeper. More dangerous than hunger. More terrifying than blood.

What if she belonged here?

He barely had time to process the thought before the three of you burst into laughter—Ghoulia was babbling nonsense in zombie-speak on the screen. The room felt alive and you were there, part of it all. Because you brought light and joy into a house that had been drowning in routine.

You had just tucked Jenù into bed and now stood outside Jay’s study, nervously biting your nails. Tomorrow, near the university campus, there was going to be a party for final-year students—and you needed to go.

It had been months since you spent a weekend with people your age instead of watching cartoons and drawing bat wings. You loved Jenù and your job, but you missed the wild, carefree side of yourself. So, tonight... you were going to tell a tiny white lie to your boss. And honestly? You hated lying—especially to him, the vampire with a dangerously attractive pair of fangs that could rip through you at any moment if you pissed him off.

You took a deep breath and knocked, heart hammering in your chest.Jay was seated at his desk, bathed in the amber glow of a desk lamp. The light carved out every line of his sculpted features. His shirt was undone halfway, revealing golden, defined muscles and a faint blue vein tracing along his neck. In one hand, he held a blood pouch, still half-full. In the other, he scrolled through corporate reports on a curved screen.

He didn’t even look up.

“Come in.” His voice was rough, slightly annoyed, but you stepped in anyway, clinging to the hope that your little lie might work. He looked infuriatingly indifferent, flawless in his world of silence, power, and spreadsheets. And yet… you couldn't help but look at him.

You caught yourself thinking—with a pout that betrayed a hopeless crush—“If he wasn’t Jenù’s dad…”

“What do you want?” he asked, eyes still locked on the screen. You took one step closer and tried your best innocent and slightly dramatic voice.

“Tomorrow… I won’t be able to take care of Jenù.” At that, Jay finally looked up.

“Why?” His tone was cold, direct almost too sharp for a man who had just been drinking blood. You hesitated, you could still bolt. You could say something stupid and backpedal but your best friend—who also happened to be Sunghoon’s girlfriend had warned you:

"Vampires detect lies. They hear your blood shift, your heartbeat, your heat. Be careful. Fake it well, and maybe he’ll say yes."

You decided to risk it. Crossing your arms over your chest, you said, “I have an extra class tomorrow night. Advanced coding. I need to work on some content for my final project. Graduation’s close and I… really want to do well.” Jay stared at you and then silence fell heavy silence. You could hear your heartbeat in your temples. Finally, he sighed and ran a hand through his dark hair.

“…Fine.” Your eyes widened. “Wait—seriously? Like… that’s it?” A genuine smile broke across your face. Jay leaned back in his chair, folding his arms. His shirt gaped a little more, exposing more of that honey-gold skin, and your eyes automatically drifted to it.

“Yes. You’re good with Jenù. I never said otherwise. And if this class is important, I won’t stop you. Your grades speak for themselves.” “Wow. No CIA interrogation this time?” you asked, half-laughing. Jay glanced at the blood pouch in his hand and muttered, “You might wanna go before I change my mind.”

You dipped your head slightly partly in gratitude, partly to hide the color rising in your cheeks. It was the first time you felt… like a real accomplice.

“Thank you. Really. I promise this won’t become a habit. Skipping weekends, I mean.” Jay’s eyes lingered on you a second too long. Then he ran his tongue over his bottom lip and your gaze followed.

Your stomach clenched, and you felt the urge—the craving—to press your lips to his and just taste what those sharp, beautiful lips felt like.

“Don’t,” Jay said softly. “Because it’s not just my daughter who trusts you anymore.”

For a moment, something cracked inside your chest. It was the first time Jay had acknowledged anything beyond duty. The first time you weren’t just the babysitter and you were lying to him. You bowed slightly, instinctively. But it was more than that, it was a mask to hide your guilt.

Jay frowned. “What are you doing?” “Thank you. Politely. Not used to that in your world of shadows and fangs?” You tilted your head with a half-smile and as you turned to leave the study, you could feel his eyes still burning into your back.

And just before you stepped out… You thought (just maybe) you saw him smile but maybe…It was just the light.

Music thumped from the poolside speakers, neon lights rippled across the water, and your head swayed gently, your body moving with the beat. The party was buzzing with final-year students desperate to cut loose before diving back into exams and thesis deadlines—and you were one of them.

You were dressed lightly....okay, not even gonna pretend. You wore a top that barely covered your chest, hugging your curves like a second skin, a low-rise skirt that showed off the glint of your belly piercing, and your sun-kissed skin shimmered under the lights. Cowboy boots make your legs look longer, sharper, and stronger. You smelled like summer and something exotic, your favorite perfume.

You laughed with your best friend as if life were easy. Like responsibility could wait one more night. You were 23, and this was your moment. If not now—when? and then, you felt it. A presence behind you. A hand at your waist. A tall guy with light eyes and a rehearsed smile leaned down—just enough to speak close to your ear over the music.

-Easily the most beautiful girl I’ve seen tonight... maybe the whole semester,- he said, voice smooth, practiced. You turned with a half-ironic smile. “Wow. That your go-to line, or do you save it for special occasions?”

He chuckled. You didn’t but... you didn’t step away either. Your body was warm, your mind slightly hazy, and God...it had been months since anyone made you feel wanted. Not that you were interested. Your thoughts were already somewhere else.

Tall. Golden skin. Half-unbuttoned shirts. A daughter who felt more like your little sister. Jay Park.

You cursed yourself silently, there was a cute, young, available guy wanting to have fun, like most people your age and all you could think about was him.

That grumpy, overprotective vampire of a man who only thought about work and his daughter, and never himself. You remembered those looks, the ones he thought you didn’t catch.

When you bent over to pick up a toy or laughed too loud with Jenù, the way his eyes burned through you, then quickly turned away. You wondered what it would feel like to be kissed by him. To feel him over you—those large, strong hands gripping your hips.

That rough voice telling you he wanted only you, to learn how he liked it, and what made him lose control. What it felt like to be taken by him slow and then ruthless until you forgot where the babysitter ended, and the woman began.

God, you needed to have sex...but not with this guy. You stepped back, scanning for your best friend, catching her on the far side of the party and chatting with a group of friends. You tried to move toward her, but the guy behind you was a little too persistent.

“I’m not looking for attention tonight,” you told the guy in front of you. -Are you sure?”- he replied with a sly smirk. -Your friend’s already taken. But you… you don’t have a mark. I can see it. Smell it.-

You froze. You thought he was joking until you looked closer. The fangs were real. The glint in his eyes was too red to be normal. Panic rose like acid in your throat.

A rogue vampire. You stumbled back, heart pounding, then bolted for the bathroom, you slammed the door shut and locked it. Your hands trembled as you reached for your phone.

No answer from your best friend. Your cousin? Offline. The rest of your friends? Miles away and none of them were fucking vampires. You stared at the emergency contact you swore you’d never use...Jay’s number. Meant for Jenù’s emergencies, not yours. Especially not after lying to him about tonight.

You hit the dial with shaking fingers: One ring. Two. Three-

“What is it, Y/n? Done with studying already? Missing Jenù too much?” His voice was dry, sarcastic, and cold. “Jay…” Your voice cracked as a tear slipped down your cheek. “Jay, I’m sorry. I didn’t mean to bother you, I...there’s a vampire. Outside the bathroom, he followed me, he knows I’m unmarked and I can’t find M/t and...” Your voice broke, the fear was raw now and our heart thundered.

Then....silence. When he finally spoke again, his tone had changed deeper, calmer, almost... human.

“Hey. Breathe. Where are you? Send me your location. I’m on my way. Are you alone?” You couldn’t tell if he was angry or terrified but you whispered, “I’m so sorry… I didn’t mean to lie. I’m M/t’s best friend. Sunghoon’s girlfriend. I...” “It doesn’t matter right now,” he cut you off. “Just listen to me: don’t open that door. Lock everything. Be silent. Try to text M/t. If you see anyone you know at the party, message them.” You nodded, even if he couldn’t see it. And in your chest, beneath the fear… there was something else.

Something twisted and dangerous a part of you wanted to see him. To hear his voice in person, to feel his arms around you, telling you it was okay. Maybe even...just maybe, he’d look at you and admit he couldn’t stop thinking about you. That he didn’t just want you as Jenù’s babysitter. That he wanted you underneath him, whispering his name as he finally gave in to the pull you both felt. But no, that was just your broken little fantasy. The one that lived in the dark, when your fingers weren’t enough anymore. Right now, you were just a terrified girl locked in a bathroom and outside… was a vampire who wanted your blood and maybe your body.

And Jay was coming but you didn’t know if you were trembling from fear…or from the guilt of lying to him.

The music still pounded through the walls, muffled, but the sound that froze your blood was something else. Two sharp knocks at the door and you thought the worst, until you heard his voice, the one you’d come to know all too well these past months, the one that sent shivers down your spine.

“Open the door. I'm Jay. Now.” Your heart shot to your throat. That voice was unmistakable, deep, and pissed. You knew he’d make you pay for this.

When you opened the door, your best friend was there, eyes down, shoulders hunched like a kid being scolded. Jay must’ve already gotten to her. Behind her, Jay himself. Tall, in an all-black suit, sleeves rolled up, hair tousled by the wind and stress, and he looked pissed, radiating fury. But the second his eyes landed on you, they softened just enough to make you crumble.

“I’m sorry,” your best friend whispered so low it barely existed. Jay scanned you from head to toe, and you threw yourself at him, wrapping your arms around him in a trembling hug. “Thank you… really. Thank you for coming.” He stiffened for a second, then sighed, slowly resting his big hands on your back, pulling you closer, he didn’t want to be soft with you, he didn’t but it was too late.

“It’s over. You’re safe,” he said, low and close, holding you. After dropping off your best friend and making her swear not to tell Sunghoon, Jay warned her with eerie calm:

“Sunghoon will know the second he’s back. He’ll smell the alcohol, the other humans or vampires. Go shower before he gets home, and I’ll lie for you. I’ll say you went for drinks in Seoul with Y/n if he pushes. But from now on...you owe me.”

She nodded, biting her lip. Before leaving, she kissed your cheek and whispered, “Text me when you get home.”

When the car started moving again, Jay was silent...too silent and his eyes were fixed on the road, hands clenched on the wheel. You nervously bit your nail.

“I’m sorry…” you said, turning toward him, and wrapping your arms around your bare legs. “Shut up,” he said, eyes still forward, jaw tight. “I didn’t mean to… I mean were you sleeping?” you asked, your voice cracking, thinking this was it. He’d fire you. Erase you from his and Jenù’s life. All your fault. “I was trying to get my daughter to sleep. You know, the little girl you told you had to study for your thesis and rest. And I get it—that watching a kid every weekend is exhausting and you deserve to live your life. But you could’ve told me. I would've let you go. Instead, while she was showing me your drawings and asking where you were, you were in front of a mirror putting on makeup to go dance with some hormone-driven idiot or worse, into a fucking party with rogue vampires.”

You bit your lip, crossed your bare legs, and caught him glancing at your thigh a second too long. His jaw clenched. Finally, he turned toward you.

“So… how was your ‘computer science class’? The music sounded very… academic.” “Well, yeah… the DJ had a PhD in bass drops,” you muttered, trying to break the tension. He clenched his jaw again, then slowed the car and looked at you. His eyes had darkened—nearly black, flecked with red. His fangs were slightly visible.

One part of you panicked. The other… got turned on. “I left my daughter alone at night to come pick up a little girl who, one, lied to her employer. Two, lied to an innocent child. And three thought it was a great idea to go to a party full of drunk idiots and rogue vampires dressed like… a slut.”

His words hit you like hot blades. But the alcohol gave you courage—or recklessness. “You’re not my father, Jay. I have every right to live my life like any girl in her last year of university. I work too much, I earn too little, and sometimes I just want to forget that my life is a mess—with a vampire dad boss who looks at me like I’m a ticking time bomb and is always grumpy and full of himself!”

Jay laughed. A short, bitter, deep laugh that made your skin crawl. “No. I’m not your father who’s always grumpy with you, but I am the father of a little girl who sees you as home. And if you get lost, if you fall apart… she’s the one who pays the price. Got it? She loves you. And I’ve never seen her grow attached to anyone ‘outside’ our circle like she did with you—not Jake, not Sunghoon, not even Heeseung.”

Silence fell again in the car and you bit at your nail. Your cheeks were burning—and so was your chest. You looked at him, hands tight on the wheel, and without thinking, the words slipped out like sweet venom.

“Maybe that’s exactly what you want, Jay. What you keep trying to ignore something new. Something that makes you feel alive again. You want me to crash, to fall—so you can stop feeling guilty about wanting to love again.”He froze at your words. His knuckles turned white on the wheel and his gaze turned dark, hungry. He spoke through clenched teeth, low and hoarse like a strangled growl.

“You drive me insane. So shut up until we get home. ”You closed your eyes and curled into the seat, turning to face away from him.

Jay pulled into the underground garage with a sharp brake. He broke the silence with a heavy sigh, then turned to you and found you asleep. Curled up like it was something you did often. Your bare legs tucked to one side, head tilted, breath slow and uneven, smudged makeup, lips slightly parted. You looked innocent… and infuriatingly tempting even in your sleep.

“Why the fuck are you always a problem… even when you’re not awake?” he muttered through clenched teeth. He ran his hands through his hair like he could rip you out of his mind. He couldn’t leave you like that, not in that microscopic skirt that wasn’t a skirt, not with that scent on your skin that still made his blood burn. He opened your door with a snap, stared at you one more time thinking how beautiful and dangerous you were to his mental state, and then lifted your bridal style like you were his.

Your body molded to his naturally, your face nestled into his neck, fingers grazing his shirt. You curled into him and that cold heart of his sluggish and half-dead for years, started beating louder. He cursed under his breath. You were the only one who made him feel like a teenager again.

He rode up the elevator with you, the hum of the motor the only sound in the metal cage. He looked down at you nestled against his chest like you were made to fit there and for the first time, he thought: he should let you go but he wasn’t capable of it.

“Tomorrow I’ll tear you apart… I swear I’ll break you with words and then piece you back together just to do it again,” he murmured under his breath. He walked into the apartment without a sound, straight into his bedroom not yours and even he didn’t know why. Maybe he just wanted to wake up and see you there. Maybe he just wanted to remember you were real. And maybe… tomorrow morning you’d  see the vampire side of him. He laid you down on the bed like you’d always belonged there. Your legs slightly parted, skirt ridden up so far he caught a glimpse of lace. One breath more, and he’d see the thing that had haunted his nights for weeks.

He hated you. You were supposed to be just Jenù’s babysitter not a walking temptation calling his name every damn day. He cursed softly, his voice rough and low. He wanted to see you like that every day—naked, moaning his name, tied to his bed, tears of pleasure in your eyes.

“So that’s how you like to be...half-naked in public like no one can see you. Like you don’t know you’re already mine…” he whispered, voice gravelly. He turned around, grabbed one of his oversized vintage band shirts, and dressed you with slow, precise movements, almost reverent. His fingers brushed your too-warm skin, too alive for someone like him. He lifted you gently and slid off your top and that ridiculous excuse of a skirt. He tried not to look because deep down he was still a gentleman but his jaw was tight.

He closed his eyes and counted to ten. Not enough. Not when you were nearly naked in his bed. He pulled the shirt over your head and laid you back. It drowned you and yet, it suited you more than that skimpy outfit he’d hated the second he saw it.

He stepped into Jenù’s room. She was asleep, cuddling the teddy bear you’d gifted her, her breathing calm. He knelt beside her, fixed a strand of hair and kissed her forehead softly. Guilt hit him hard. Because you weren’t just a crush, a temptation. You were dangerous for him, for Jenù, and for the life he’d spent years carefully building. He returned to his room. You were still there. In his bed. In his shirt. In his life. Legs half-covered, neck exposed—that damned neck he wanted to bury his face in, kiss, bite, mark. He wanted to sink his fangs into your skin and feel you scream from pleasure, from need. Taste you. You’d haunted his every thought since the day he first saw you, at Sunghoon’s birthday party.

“You’re ruining me…” he whispered, sitting on the edge of the bed, exhausted. Then he climbed in beside you, turning his back so he wouldn’t touch you because if he did, he wouldn’t stop. Just as he was about to turn off the light, you whispered his name softly, like a plea from a dream. “Jay…” He closed his eyes tightly, turned, gently brushed a strand of hair from your face with trembling fingers, then turned off the light and stayed there, facing you, watching you sleep. Desiring you. Hating himself. Knowing deep down that tomorrow, he couldn’t pretend anymore.

Your head throbbed, not painfully, but with that thick, fuzzy sensation that made you curse the loud music and the neon drinks from the night before. Your eyes were still closed, skin flushed, but there was something against you—solid, muscular, slightly cool… but too alive. Holding you tight.

Oh no. Jay.

As pieces of the night fell back into place like dirty puzzle pieces stained with adrenaline and shame, you remembered it all: - how he looked at you when he found you - how he growled your name carrying you away and most of all, how you yelled he wasn’t your father, with shaking knees and burning cheeks while his eyes looked starved.

You felt nauseous not from the alcohol, but from the humiliation. He would fire you. He’d scream. He’d hate you. You slid your arm off his torso and buried your face in your hands, pouting. “Run, Y/n, before he wakes up. Just go. Get out before he opens his eyes and destroys you.” Quietly, you began to slip from the sheets. One arm held you tightly, his bare bicep wrapped around your waist like silk and fire. His face… was relaxed.eyes closed, lashes long, lips slightly parted in an unconscious pout. “If he weren’t a CEO with blood-stained hands and centuries of pain, he could be a model,” you thought, biting your lip at how unfairly beautiful he looked even asleep. Carefully, you freed yourself. His arm fell away, and you exhaled like a secret agent dodging a trap, you placed one foot on the ground no sound a second of peace.

Maybe…you made it but then.... “Where do you think you’re going?” His voice was low, raspy from the night, laced with dangerous promises. You shut your eyes and whispered, “Shit.”

Hand to your forehead, you turned to face him. Jay was awake, dark eyes locked on you like blades. His hair was messy, yet he looked as perfect as ever. He lifted slightly from the mattress. “I… I was just…” You didn’t finish. His cold, firm hand gripped your wrist, pulling you back down onto the mattress. He hovered over you, one knee on the bed, eyes burning into you from above. Your gaze dropped, cheeks blazing from the heat of his not-quite-human warmth. “Sorry,” you whispered. He laughed quietly—low, poisonous.

“You're sorry?” he hissed. “Sweetheart, you can shove that where the sun doesn’t shine. Maybe it’ll help you think clearer next time.” His hands clutched your wrists tighter. You laughed nervously, trying to deflect, “Didn’t think you’d be into dirty talk at eight in the morning. Figured your priorities were more… milk temp for your kid or which headband matches the bows today.” “I don’t like girls who lie. Especially not to me, or my daughter.” His hand gripped your chin, forcing your eyes to meet his. His touch was gentle, but the grip was firm, anchoring. “You didn’t just put yourself at risk. You broke the trust of a little girl who says your name every night, who looks for you in her dreams, who prefers you over everyone except me. If something happened to you, she would’ve broken. And I would’ve broken with her.” You swallowed hard, cheeks burning. But he wasn’t done. “I’m not your father but under this roof, I decide what you do. You’re my responsibility. Mine. Got it?” You rolled your eyes. “And what if I don’t want to be yours?” you challenged. “Then get out of this bed. But if you stay… accept that you’re in my world now. And sweetheart, I don’t play fair. Especially not with troublemakers like you.”

You didn’t want to leave. You pulled him closer. “God… you sound like you crawled out of a teen vampire drama,” you teased. “Half Dracula, half psycho. Maybe a little pathetic too.” He raised a brow, leaned in, eyes sharp slits. “Careful. Poorly written vampires don’t end well.” “Oh no,” you mocked, “will you make me vanish or glare at me with that immortal CEO pout? Maybe scold me for corrupting your daughter with my scandalous human morals?” Your smirk faded when he bared sharp canines. Real. Dangerous. Irresistible. You reached out, voice low. “Can I?” He didn’t move. You touched the tip of a fang. Sharp as a blade. He growled low, animalistic. “Going for a vampire of the year?” you whispered. “Got the deluxe kit or just the base model with sexy teeth and moody angst?” That did it. His eyes flared. “Little girl…” he growled. He grabbed your face and crushed his lips to yours. It wasn’t tender. It was hunger, anger, and raw need. You’d teased him from day one, and he had tried to resist, but now he couldn’t. At first, you froze. Then you melted into him. His kiss was fire and desperation. You kissed back with trembling hands tangling in his messy black hair. Your tongues danced and challenged. “Christ…” he muttered as you tugged his hair. “You’re a torment.” “I know…” you whispered.

You dared explore his mouth, brushing your tongue along a fang. He growled and gripped your waist hard. His cold hand slid against your hot skin, thumb drawing circles, making you moan. Each kiss hit like a blow, and breaths came shorter. It was a storm. “I can’t stand you…” he murmured against your lips. His hands held you like you were slipping away like he’d already lost too much. You pressed into him, feeling exactly how much you affected him. “Too bad. You’re kinda cute when you’re not being a grumpy CEO dad.” His gaze darkened. “Don’t push me.” He kissed your jaw, voice shaking you. He kissed down your neck, canines brushing skin that smelled like mango and coconut. He wanted to bite, to sink those fangs in, but instead, he kissed, licked, sucked, marking you with heat and possession. “Do you even know what you’re doing?” he whispered. “Yes. And I’m not stopping,” you rasped. He chuckled darkly. “You’re trouble, Y/n.” Your fingers found his hair, pulling. He smiled against your skin, hearing how much you wanted him. “Remember…” he murmured, breath ghosting over you, “…when you called me crying, said a vampire tried to bite you because 'you hadn’t been claimed'?” Your heart stopped, then raced. You opened your mouth, stammering, but his kisses silenced you. “Don’t you think,” he said, lips at your ear, “…if anyone had to do it… it should’ve been me?” Your body shook. You moaned, feeling his dominance, his heat, his hunger.

You lifted a leg, pressing it to his side. He growled. “You thought you could just put on that tiny skirt, down some drinks, and I’d stay home while you paraded around like temptation incarnate?” “I just… I wanted to…” “You wanted attention,” he snapped. “But mine comes with a price.” His eyes were red now. Aroused. Hungry. “I’ve wanted your blood since the first time you walked into my office.” Eyes wide, you clung to him. “Please… don’t hurt me.” His smile turned wolfish. He grabbed your chin. “If you want to be treated like a princess, you’ve got the wrong immortal. I’m not here to save you, sweetheart. I’m the one you should run from.” Then his fangs sank into your skin. Pain exploded, sharp and hot. You screamed, but his hand clamped over your mouth. His bite was more than hunger. It was possession. Desire. A fire ran through you. Your breath came in pants, trembling, moaning under his mouth. You should’ve been afraid. But it wasn’t fear. It was want. Shameful, burning want. He drank deeply, slowly, rhythmically. Your name was a whisper on your tongue. Your body collapsed against his. “J… Jay…” you whimpered. He kept drinking, precise, controlled. Then, finally, he pulled away. His lips were crimson, tongue licking your wound clean. “You are…” he breathed, “…the most dangerous thing to ever happen to me. And now that I’ve tasted you…” He cupped your face gently, reverently. “…I’m never letting you go. Not even if you beg.”

It had been a week since he kissed you since he made you feel alive and maybe even important to him. A week since his fangs had pierced your skin, since his breath had turned molten and his voice had scratched your soul. And since then… silence. Jay had gone back to being the man you met months ago cold, arrogant, irritable, and infuriatingly professional. Every morning you received a message, always the same, as if you’d just started working together and hadn’t been living under the same roof for months: “Take her to the park between 6 and 7 PM. Don’t forget the snack and avoid the hottest hours. The full moon is coming and she’s sensitive to the sun. Don’t wait up. I’ll be late. I have work to do.” And every time you read “I have work to do,” you couldn’t help but think it was just an excuse to avoid being near you.

He always shut himself in his office. At dinner, he sat at the head of the table and spoke only to his daughter, as if you were invisible and one night, when he saw you still awake at the kitchen table with your Communication and Multimedia notes spread everywhere, he didn’t say much. Just a sharp glance, a mug filled with blood he barely touched, and a biting comment: “Didn’t know coloring PowerPoint titles were considered academic now.” You’d let it slide until that night. That night, you stood up, barefoot, wearing just a pair of shorts and an old oversized sweatshirt. Not to provoke him, but because you were tired of pretending nothing happened, tired of being invisible.

“Why are you avoiding me?” Your voice came out raw, almost breaking. “Do I have the plague or something?” He tensed, eyes fixed on his mug. “I’m not avoiding anyone. I have a life to manage, a company to run, a daughter to protect. I don’t have time for adolescent drama.” You stopped a meter away from him, watching his clenched fist. “Strange. A week ago, you didn’t seem so uninterested. You kissed me, bit me, crawled under my skin and now you act like I’m nothing.” He turned sharply. “You’re a girl. You’re not ready for what’s inside me. I made a mistake giving in to a stupid impulse. The kiss, the bite both mistakes I regret.”

His words shattered something inside you. “I’m not a girl. I raise your daughter every day. I gave up parties, skipped classes, lied to people because I thought it was worth it. That you were worth it.” He laughed, short, bitter. “Right. Like that night at the party. So responsible, right? Alcohol lies, and an outfit that was more sin than fabric.” Your chest tightened. “That night I messed up. But you… you made me feel alive. You looked at me like no one ever had.” He stepped closer, face tense, the air around you shrinking. “You make me something I shouldn’t be,” he spat. “Her mother left her. I won’t let her lose me too.” Silence fell like a slap and you stared at his clenched fists, his tight jaw. Then you whispered, “You’re just a coward.” You brushed past him, tears burning not just from anger, but heartbreak. You slammed the bedroom door behind you. And Jay? He didn’t follow but the mug he held… shattered in his hand.

That afternoon, golden light poured through the living room windows. The TV was off, the silence broken only by the occasional pencil falling to the floor and the soft tapping of your fingers on the keyboard. You were deep into a complex yet fascinating visual semiotics assignment, surrounded by sticky notes, half a cold coffee, and colored pens. Your shoulders ached for a break.

Jenù sat on the rug with a little illustrated workbook from preschool, coloring sea creatures with an almost sacred focus. Every few minutes, she’d toss out questions some adorable, others just to get your attention. “Do fish know they can’t talk?” “If you lived underwater, would you be a long-haired mermaid or the kind with shells?” “Is pink allowed in the ocean? I’m using it anyway!”

You chuckled without looking up, refusing to let yourself soften because Jay didn’t want you to because he was distant, and because he had made you feel like a mistake. Jenù stood abruptly, hands on hips, and gave you her best vampire pout, flashing her baby canines.

“Are you scared now? I could suck your blood!” You smirked. “Not scared, little Dracula. I know you too well and you can’t bite with baby teeth.” She crossed her arms, ready to giggle, when the ding-dong of the front door echoed through the room. Jenù’s eyes lit up and she bolted instinctively.

“Daddy! You’re early!” she shouted but it wasn’t his voice that followed. It was female. Deep. Velvet-smooth. You turned around to see Jay, coat still on, and beside him… a woman. Tall. Beautiful. Pale skin, dark hair in a messy bun, endless legs in black pants, and a razor-sharp smile. You caught sight of her fangs. She looked like exactly the kind of woman Jay wanted in his world.

Jenù quickly let go of him and ran back to you, holding your hand as if anchoring herself. “This is Y/n! The best babysitter I’ve ever had! But not just a babysitter—she’s one of my best friends. She makes perfect braids, watches Monster High with me, and cooks way better than the mean witch-nail lady we had before!” Then she looked at her dad. “Don’t send her away. She’s better than all the others.”

Your heart skipped. Not just because of Jenù’s sweetness, but because of the cold, sharp tension that suddenly filled the room.“She’s my daughter’s babysitter,” Jay said curtly, without even looking at you. The woman laughed, lips blood-red, baring her perfect fangs.

-Oh, the babysitter? What is this, the thirtieth one? Cute...” She looked you over. Cute, for a human.- You bit your cheek to keep from snapping. The humiliation, the jealousy, the rage, you swallowed it all. Jay said nothing. He placed a hand on her back… and left it there too long. Jenù looked back and forth between the two of you, a bit confused.

“We’ll be in my office,” Jay said flatly. The woman turned to you before following, offering her hand. You shook it—and she gripped too hard. Her nails grazed your skin like claws.

-Careful not to get too attached, dear,-she whispered with a wicked smile. -Vampires… change their minds quickly.- She let go and disappeared into the study with Jay. You stood there frozen, Jenù’s little hand still clutching yours, your heart pounding. Only when the office door clicked shut did you realize what you were feeling? Jealousy. And for the first time… you wanted to drive him mad the way he was driving you.

It had been over two hours since dinner, simple tomato pasta with grilled veggies, which Jenù had arranged on the plate like tiny flowers. She giggled as she chewed, proudly explaining how well she had colored the jellyfish in her underwater workbook. Now you were in the bathroom, steam fogging the mirror. You knelt by the tub with a towel over your knees while Jenù washed her hands and brushed her "LITTLE TEETH"—her nickname for her baby vampire teeth. You smiled at her pink pajama, the one with teddy bears—too sweet for a half-vampire, but adorable.

“Mmm… I don’t like that lady,” she mumbled through a mouthful of toothpaste. “The one with shiny lips and claw hands.” You glanced at her through the mirror.

“Oh no?” “No. She laughs too much and looks at me funny. Why are they taking so long to work?” You bit the inside of your cheek. From Jay’s study, you could hear nothing but the clacking of keyboard keys and... laughter. “Your dad... has a lot of work. Sometimes meetings run late.” She didn’t look convinced but theatrically spit into the sink. “Is that why we spend so much time together? You nodded. “Exactly. But I don’t mind. You and me? We’re a team.”

When you left the bathroom—Jenù in her jammies, hair damp—you saw her, standing in the living room like she owned it. Leaning casually against a shelf, laughing at something Jay said, her hand lightly brushing his arm, her smile just a bit too sharp to be real. The moment she saw Jenù, she crouched and chirped in a sing-song voice:

-Sweetheart, you look beautiful! Those little fangs—such a perfect baby vampire! Though this pajama…- she laughed softly, -...a bit too human, don’t you think? You have special blood, you know?-

Jenù gripped your hand tighter and answered firmly: “It’s my favorite. Y/n gave it to me. She also got me a teddy bear at the fair and I like sleeping with him.” Your stomach twisted. You didn’t know whether to laugh or cry. Jenù then pulled Jay’s arm.

“Daddy. Tonight, I want you to tell me a story.” The vampire woman’s smile faltered. She shot you a sharp glance—part threat, part promise: I know what you feel. And you’re going to lose. You didn’t flinch. You greeted her coldly, and she vanished into the night with a trail of sweet, cursed perfume. Jay and Jenù disappeared into her room, and instead of leaving, you followed. You sat on the edge of the bed as he began the story.

“Once upon a time, there was a little girl who lived in a castle as big as the sky. But she had a secret: her heart beat for two worlds—the world of humans, and the world of shadows.” Jenù snuggled against him, holding her bear.

“And was her daddy a king?” “No,” Jay said, brushing her hair. “Her daddy was a guardian. Someone who fought monsters in the dark… to keep her safe.” “Even if the monsters were inside him? Or close to him?” He paused. Then whispered, “Especially then.”

She yawned, her eyes finally closing. You gently covered her with a blanket, touched Jay’s arm, then left the room. But with each step away, a growing emptiness pressed into your chest. You have made your decision. Shoes on, bag in hand you were just about to walk out when Jay appeared in the hallway, sleeves unbuttoned, standing right in your way.

“Where are you going?” he said, watching you as you bent down to put on your shoes. You turned, determined not to cry, because you wanted to leave that house.

“To my place,” you said quietly. “At this hour?” Jay asked, slightly irritated, as he watched you stand.“I don’t mind babysitting Jenù,” you said flatly. “I’m happy to be there for her until I graduate... and even after. For her birthday, for the important moments. Forever, if she wants me to be.”

His eyes darkened, but you didn’t give him the chance to speak. “But I can’t live here. I don’t want to live in a house where vampires walk in wearing stiletto heels, red lips, and acid laughter. Where you… have fun while I help Jenù with her homework.” Jay stiffened, looking at you with a hint of anxiety at your words. “It’s not what you think.”

“No?” You lifted your chin. “Then what is it? Because I know you like me, and I know you’re holding back, but I don’t want to be one of many. I don’t want to be the babysitter who watches your daughter while you find someone in your league, someone perfect for you and for Jenù, because I…” Your voice cracked, and you couldn’t bring yourself to look at him. “I could fall in love with you… and you would break me.” Jay fell silent, then took a step toward you. “I can’t afford that. I can’t be weak with you. I can’t want that.”

You looked at him and sighed because you knew he’d never fight for this. “Then let me go,” you said as you grabbed your bag. But for once, he ignored every instinct. He didn’t listen to the vampire inside him the cold, calculating one who stopped loving the day his heart was broken, the one who wouldn’t let you in, the one who was afraid terrified of losing you and making you suffer.

He grabbed your wrist with that usually controlled strength and turned you to face him. His eyes, pitch black with faint red glimmers, flared like glowing embers. He lowered his head until his lips were just brushing yours and whispered, hoarse, hungry, sincere: “Fuck it… I can’t take it anymore. I want you in my life more than anyone else.” And he kissed you but it wasn’t like that time in his bed, after the party when you were drunk on adrenaline, music, and boldness.

No, this kiss was different. It tasted of long-repressed desire, of raw need finally unleashed, of his craving to have you, to show you how much he needed you. He bit your lower lip gently, and you moaned his name between parted lips.

“J-Jay…” He laughed softly against your mouth, that deep, maddeningly sexy laugh you’d only heard when he was with his daughter.

His hands grabbed your ass firmly, and without a word, he lifted you like it was nothing effortlessly, with the confidence of someone who’s fought a thousand battles and had supernatural strength. You clung to him like a koala, legs wrapped around his waist, fingers buried in his raven-black hair—soft and just long enough to grab.

You rubbed against him, feeling his erection pressing hard against you, and that’s when he growled low in his throat and degraded you with a whisper in your ear: “Not tonight, baby. I’m not just going to fuck you against a wall—I want to make you tremble. I want to make you feel so good you forget your name. I want you unable to walk tomorrow without thinking of me. I want to hear you moan my name and how crazy I make you.”

He kissed you, wet and hot, just beneath your ear, then moved slowly down your neck, licking the spot where the mark from his fangs still lingered. Your voice broke, and you stammered something you’d never said out loud: “I-I can’t resist you anymore, Jay…”

He paused and looked you in the eye, voice low: “I know. I can’t resist you either. Since day one, you’ve been driving me insane. Ever since I had you in my bed, every morning I wake up hard as hell, and I have to jerk off in the shower thinking about you on your knees all mine. But I want you to know something: I’m not just some asshole. Not with you. I want to take care of you, for once… I want to live without fear.”

He kicked open the door to his room and closed it behind him. It was dark, deep, dominated by a large black canopy bed with dark silk sheets but amid all that darkness… you were the light. He laid you down gently like you were precious, and his gaze traced every inch of your body. He brushed his fingers slowly over your hips and whispered:

“So beautiful… so bold… and you still don’t know you were born to be mine.” He unzipped your hoodie with one swift pull, stripping it off and leaving your breasts bare, your breath shallow, still in your sweatpants. He bit his lip and said, “Christ, you’re perfect.”

But you didn’t just lay there. With trembling fingers, you unbuttoned his shirt. His skin was golden, sculpted, tight muscles flexing under your touch everything you’d dreamed of feeling since that kiss. You dragged your nails down his abs, tracing every ridge, and he shuddered under your touch, eyes half-lidded. He grabbed your wrists and pinned them above your head.

“Wanna play, little human? Tonight I’ll show you what it’s like to be under me… to be loved by me. And you’ll beg me never to stop.” His kisses trailed slowly down your neck, hot and wet, each bite leaving small marks—branding you with his possessiveness. He sucked your skin until it turned red, whispering against your flesh:

“Tomorrow, I want to see you covered in my marks. So everyone—those boys at university—know you’re mine.” You shivered at the sound of those words because you knew how protective he was with Jenù but with you… there were darker shades. Hungry. Possessive. His red-black eyes lingered on your chest, and the way he looked at you made you feel completely naked—even though you weren’t. One of his hands grabbed your breast, squeezing it firmly, making your back arch.

“S-sensitive…” you murmured, your voice breaking from pleasure. “Perfect,” he growled softly. “I love it when you’re sensitive.” Then, without warning, he took a nipple into his mouth and sucked hard, his tongue tracing wet circles around it, his fangs lightly grazing the taut skin. You buried your fingers in his hair, holding back a desperate moan. “Look at how you react to me…” he whispered against your skin, slowly, cruelly licking your other breast. “I bet these breasts would be perfect, full of my milk, swollen with my seed and my future children,” he growled, a thin strand of spit soothing his little bites. You stared at him, eyes wide. A shiver ran down your spine at the way he spoke… as if he was already living the future he imagined with you. It scared you but excited you more than you wanted to admit. “J-Jay… don’t say that…” you moaned as you felt his hand tighten around your breast. “Why not?” he hissed against your belly, moving lower. “Sooner or later it will happen. You’ll be full of me—inside, outside, everywhere.” He kissed your lower belly while touching the piercing on your navel that drove him crazy, then looked into your eyes. “Lift your hips.”

You obeyed, and your sweatpants and panties slipped off in one smooth, quick motion, leaving you completely exposed before him, your thighs trembling, your breath caught. He looked at you and cursed under his breath, dark and rough: “Fuck… you’re perfect.” Instinctively, from shame and modesty—you hadn’t been naked in front of anyone for a long time and you were afraid you wouldn’t live up to his expectations—you tried to close your legs, but he slid between them, grabbing you firmly. “Don’t you dare hide from me,” he growled. “Not when you have such a beautiful pussy. Shiny, swollen… wet for me. Do you see how much you want me?” He started kissing you there, between your legs, with that disarming slowness that hurt. His lips followed a cruel rhythm: soft circles, small figure eights, his tongue grazing your clitoris with surgical precision. Your body tensed, and your hands searched for something to hold onto. All you found was his hair. “J-Jay…” you moaned, voice breaking. He chuckled low, predatory, as if he knew exactly how hard you were fighting not to beg him. “What did you say?” he whispered against you before giving another slow lick along your lips. “I didn’t hear you well.” Then one of his fangs brushed your clitoris, and a shiver ran down your spine. “Fuck…” you gasped, pulling his hair.

“You’ve got a long tongue for such a sweet girl,” he growled. “And now look how slick your fucking human pussy is… Christ, I could kill for this taste, I could stay down here for hours watching you lose for me.” A finger slipped inside you slowly, wrapped in warmth and your wetness, and he cursed, forehead resting on your belly. “So tight… so ready and only for me, right?” You nodded and whispered, “I need you… please.” “Please…?” he repeated. “You’re desperate, huh? I want to hear you beg. Say my name.” he chuckled. “Jay…” you sobbed. “Please, fuck me. Do it with your fingers, with that damn mouth. Make me feel something that breaks me.” Jay was obsessed with you, and without warning, he pushed in a second finger; you felt yourself being stretched, your thighs opening wider, clutching the sheets as if they could save you from him. “Baby,” he murmured, voice broken by hunger. “You’re so full and warm… Christ, I’d get drunk just on you.” He kept moving inside you, his fingers curling against that spot that made you see stars, while his mouth devoured you mercilessly again. “You’re mine. Mine, got it? No one else gets to see you like this. No one will touch you like I do.” His fingers moved inside you like they were born for that gesture while he pumped inside you, and at the same time his tongue made perfect circles around your sensitive clitoris, then suddenly deeper, fiercer. As if his body knew exactly when to push you over the edge and when to cradle you in torment. “I-I’m coming, Jay…” you stammered, voice broken, and he smiled with that dark, indecent grin. “Good. Come. Show me how beautiful you are when you break for me.”

He didn’t give you time, and his lips returned to your pussy as if it were his favorite meal. There was no hunger for blood in his eyes anymore, only desire, only thirst for you… without warning, he pinched your clitoris with his fang and you screamed. He covered your mouth with his hand and growled into your ear, “Want to wake Jenù?” he growled softly. “Want her to hear her babysitter getting fucked with her employer’s fingers?” Tears streamed down your face—from pleasure, from shame, and pure excitement. “I’m sorry…” you whispered against his hand, unable to control your trembling, and with your other hand, you tangled it in his dark hair, pulling him even deeper between your legs. Jay groaned but didn’t stop; his fingers hammered inside you, curved, calculated, and his tongue sucked with the precision of an expert demon. Then, shivering, you came against his mouth and his fingers, and he didn’t stop. He took everything from you, drinking your essence as if it were sacred, and when he pulled away, his lips glistened. The same fingers that had destroyed you, he brought to his mouth and slowly sucked them, moaning. “Your taste… fucking perfect. Human but with something of mine inside you now. Can you feel it? You’re mine. You always were.” And he kissed you. A kiss full of your own flavor, and you, still trembling, still lost, gave it back to him. “Stay with me,” Jay murmured against your lips. “I don’t want to wake up one day without your scent on these sheets.” You couldn’t even answer. Your body collapsed against his, exhausted, warm, alive, and you fell asleep tight against his chest. But Jay… Jay didn’t sleep. He watched you in the dark while your breathing slowed, and every now and then his hand moved, caressing your side, then traveling up your belly, kissing your shoulder, your neck, the hollow behind your knee—and you… even in sleep, moaned softly. He was obsessed, thinking only about how easy it was to push you to the limit, how your body responded only to him, and he wanted to wake you again with his mouth between your thighs, wanted to hear your voice break again, wanted to bite you, make you his in the most absolute way. She’s mine. Even when she sleeps, even when she doesn’t know it, and for the first time in centuries… Jay Park felt alive.

It had been a few weeks since that night when he made you realize he cared about you and wanted you with him, and with all his might, he was pushing away the idea that he could love someone other than just his daughter. Things had changed—or maybe they had simply transformed.

He was no longer gruff, cold, or distant with you; on the contrary, he was spending much more time with you and Jenù. Every opportunity seemed good to involve you, even in moments you honestly never imagined could involve a 300-year-old aristocratic vampire.

Like… going to the movies. Yes, you heard that right the movies, not the private theater in his house but the one shared between humans and vampires in downtown Seoul. You, Jay, and Jenù sitting almost in the back row watching the new Disney movie Lilo & Stitch!

Jenù was clutching her favorite stuffed animal, you were holding her hand, and Jay… Jay was on the left, with a huge popcorn bucket on his lap. Halfway through the movie, when an emotional scene made Jenù’s eyes and yours glow, Jay leaned toward you.

“So humans cry even for an animated doll?” he whispered with a cocky smile, and you threw a popcorn straight at his face. Jenù laughed like crazy, and that’s when the battle started: flying popcorn, stifled giggles, sneaky hands trying to grab the popcorn bucket before the other a silent but beautiful disaster. Jay was laughing, and at that moment, you thought: maybe this is love, or maybe it’s a wonderful trap, because little by little, you were falling in love with that 27-year-old man who, in his vampire form, was 300 years old…

That afternoon at university, Sunghoon called to say he would pick up Jenù from kindergarten and take her to dance. You replied with a simple “ok,” already mentally preparing to take the crowded subway, but then you immediately saw a message from Jay saying: “I’ll come get you.”

You sighed because surely he and Sunghoon had made plans, and you thought: God, no.

Being seen outside the university in a shiny black Aston Martin at four in the afternoon? It was mortifying. Plus, you were wearing your dad’s hoodie, and battle-worn faded jeans, and you weren’t wearing any makeup or looking presentable for someone like him… yet, there he was. Parked in front of the entrance, headlights on, the door already open as per his gentleman status, and you got in.

That unmistakable scent aged whiskey, leather, something ancient and warm that smelled like him wafted into your nostrils, and you felt better seeing him dressed not for work either. He wore slightly dressy pants but a Ralph Lauren sweater that hugged his muscular chest, and his hair was so messy you smiled because he must have run his hands through it countless times.

“Are you okay?” he asked immediately, glancing at you sideways.“Just a headache, a bit tired the graduation is coming, and I can’t wait to finish to figure out which master’s to do.” Jay didn’t answer right away. He stretched his arm toward the back seat and handed you a warm carton. Hot chocolate. When you opened it, you saw it was covered with marshmallows, and you looked at him.

“How do you know that’s my favorite?” He raised an eyebrow, sly, and smiled. “I watch you carefully.” “Stalker,” you whispered as you started to drink, and he smiled. Then you shivered an unexpected chill ran down your spine. “Can you turn up the temperature?” you asked, your hands warming thanks to the hot chocolate’s heat. “It’s already 23 degrees.” Without a word, he moved closer and pressed his cold forehead against yours. “Fuck… you’re burning up.”You put your hand to your forehead—he was right, you were burning.“You have a fever.” His tone was authoritative and cold, but protective. Almost… tender. “You need to rest.” “Yes, Dad,” you teased, and he looked at you, his red eyes slightly narrowed, letting you drink in peace. But beneath that calm… he was already reckoning with how much he was getting attached to you a small human, too stubborn, too fragile, and too… his.

Jay never thought he’d have to take care of two girls in his life—and yet, in the middle of the night, he found himself standing next to the bed, watching over two humans. Well… one human and one small half-blood. One too stubborn for her good, with a fever and a stuffy nose. Jenù was asleep, her legs sprawled over his chest, breathing in little puffs.

You, on the other hand, were a whole different problem. For three days, your fever had hovered between 38.5 and 38.5, your nose red enough to melt any heart… and your hair so messy it looked more like a declaration of war than a symptom. Jay was immovable: rest, broth, medicine, more rest.

But you? You wanted the whole world, even with a fever and dark circles under your eyes. That night, you got up quietly, thinking he was in his study—but no. Jay was there, leaning against the kitchen door with his arms crossed. Crimson eyes, a sharp gaze, but he said nothing for a long second.

He looked at you: his sweatshirt nearly reached your knees, your pajama pants hung a bit off one hip, and your face pale, tired… and beautiful. That red nose, flushed cheeks, those wild strands of hair something in him snapped. A sharp, sweet pang.

Damn, she’s cute like this. Especially like this. Vulnerable, real, fully his, in his home. He walked toward you slowly, his voice stern: “Back to bed.”

“No.” Your voice came out hoarse, weak and then, suddenly, you hugged him. mA simple gesture. Natural.

But for Jay, it was like lightning. You weren’t a physical person. You never hugged him like that without a reason. Maybe because you didn’t trust him yet—not completely. But he wanted to become the person you could trust.

And him? He held you tight, protective in a way that surprised even him. A kind of touch he usually reserved only for his daughter. Don’t let me get used to this, little human… because I might never want to let it go.

“Sweetheart, you need rest…” he whispered into your ear, voice low and warm, unusually gentle. “I know,” you murmured, your forehead against his chest. “But I’m hungry… for something good. And no, I don’t want any more plain noodles or chicken soup.” You looked up at him with those eyes the same eyes Jenù used when she wanted to stay up late or ask for something and he recognized the look instantly.

He shook his head. “No.” You hugged him tighter, inhaling that scent of his that always made you feel at home, and you said: “Please… ramen. Slightly spicy, the one with the soft-boiled egg inside…”“You’ve got a fever,” he replied in his usual stern tone, and you pouted, knowing exactly how to push his buttons.

“Then I’ll call Heeseung,” you whispered with a faint smile. “The ramen king.” You tried to pull away to grab your phone, but Jay growled softly. His red eyes flared. That bastard’s not making you a damn thing. Not in my house.

Without another word, he took your hand warm, trembling, so human and dragged you into the kitchen. He sat you down on the counter and began preparing the ramen. You watched him move in silence, enchanted by the way he focused just to feed you. The way he opened the spice packets, cracked the eggs, and added the broth with precise gestures. As he stirred the pot, Jay thought about how much of a child you seemed to him. Fragile, human, noisy—and there he was, making ramen at three in the morning just because you gave him that sick puppy look.

I’ve gone insane.

“Why are you looking at me like that?” he asked without turning around. He could feel your gaze on him.

“Like what?” you asked, a little sleepy. “Like I’m a miracle.” You smiled faintly.

“Maybe you are.” Jay froze for a second, the ladle hanging in the air. His (dead) heart skipped something dangerously close to a beat.

It’s just the fever talking, just a random moment. But then you turned away, coughing softly, and he placed one hand on your back, the other on your forehead.

“You still have a fever.” “I know,” you murmured with a shiver. “Eat. Then bed,” he said in that commanding tone of his. You whispered, “Only if you come too.” There was a pause—silence heavy enough to make your chest tighten in fear he might laugh at you. But Jay nodded slowly. He didn’t say a word but inside…

He was already surrendering. To your voice, to your fragility, to that sweetness he never asked for but that was slowly invading his life.

And maybe… just maybe…He was falling in love with you.

The next day, Jenù only had a mild cold. Jay checked her temperature and, with a satisfied look, confirmed the fever was gone. He sent her off to spend time with Sunghoon and your best friend "just to be safe," he said… though you suspected he just wanted a few hours alone with you.

He took your temperature right after. “37.5°. It’s going down.” “Oh, Doctor Jay, what wonderful news! Tell me, did you study medicine or is this all part of your panicked dad instincts?” Jay shot you a sharp look, but the corners of his lips curved into a half-smile.

“In my vampire ID, I’m 300 years old, sweetheart. I’ve seen plenty of sick people.” You rolled your eyes and leaned back against the couch.“There he is again — the ancient immortal. You know, I keep forgetting I’m dating someone who could’ve voted during the age of absolute monarchies.” “Dating?” he repeated, raising an eyebrow. You two weren’t just “dating” like some teenagers fumbling through a first crush.

“Okay, fine living together, making out, exploring each other, co-parenting your daughter pick your term,” you said with a smirk as you stretched. “Anyway, I need a shower. I look like a gremlin and I hate tangled hair.” Jay stiffened immediately. “I don’t want you alone in the bathroom.” You looked at him, shrugging. “You can stay by the door. I don’t plan on drowning in shower gel.” He stepped closer, his face serious. “What if you faint? Or worse hit your head?”

You gave him a wry look. “If this is your way of asking to join me, just say so.” Jay’s eyes widened and he shook his head. “She’s back...the girl from our first months together. The one who teased me every five minutes.” You smiled and wrapped your arms around him.

“She never left. You just got used to my brilliant personality.” He sighed and raised his hands. “Give me ten minutes. I’ll prepare the main bathroom for you.”

When he finally called you in, the scene looked like something out of a movie: The large black marble tub steamed with hot water, dotted with violet sea salt pearls. The air smelled of vanilla and lavender, and candles flickered around the edges.

You stood at the doorway, lips slightly parted. As a kid, you had always dreamed of a bathtub like that, but your family home never had one — and your student apartment didn’t even come close.“You… did all this for me?” you whispered. “No. It was for me. But since you’re always complaining, I’ll let you use it,” he replied sarcastically, turning to leave. “Relax. Just don’t get up too fast.”

But you reached out and caught his wrist. “Stay,” you said softly, a little shyly. Jay turned slowly to face you, his gaze drifting down over your body, hidden beneath one of his oversized hoodies.

“I’m not pretty right now, I know,” you murmured, face warm. “All sweaty, still a little feverish…” You began pulling down your pajama pants slowly, left in nothing but your underwear. Then you peeled off the hoodie no bra underneath and Jay let out a quiet, almost frustrated breath as his eyes scanned your body. He reached out and cupped one of your breasts gently, brushing your nipple with his thumb. You gasped softly, tilting your head back at the contrast between your warm skin and his cool hands.

“You’re a little overdressed,” you whispered. He didn’t say anything, just took off his shirt revealing his golden skin and sharp V-line then slid off his sweatpants, staying in just his boxers. You were biting your lower lip without realizing it, and he noticed.

“Are you sure?” he asked, and you nodded before giggling shyly. “Can you turn around while I get in? Even vampires should know how to respect privacy.” Jay scoffed. “Sweetheart, I’ve seen your pussy from every angle.” “Jay!” you scolded, slapping his chest. He laughed and turned his back.

You slipped into the tub the water was just the right kind of hot. The steam kissed your skin and made you close your eyes for a second, letting yourself melt into it. Jay turned back around, watching you as you relaxed in the water. Then, slowly, he took off his boxers. You shut your eyes instantly.

“I said you turn around, not me!” “You’ve been naked for a minute,” he replied, climbing in. “Might as well.”

He settled behind you, pulling you gently between his legs, your back resting against his chest. His arms wrapped around you, and he placed a soft kiss on your shoulder. The hot water enveloped you both like a velvet cocoon but Jay’s hands, cold like winter moonlight, made you shiver every time they touched your skin.

You could feel his arousal pressing against you — constant, undeniable — and a quiet moan escaped your lips. Jay smiled slightly, misinterpreting it. “Am I bothering you, sweetheart?” he whispered, continuing to lather your back with slow, careful movements… almost reverent.

"No… just a little shiver, " you lie, leaning your head against his chest as he had asked you. Its smell invaded you: wood, and smoke, mixed with the sweet note of vanilla and lavender. His hands began to descend slowly, lingering on the curves of your hips, then rising again, caressing your neck gently before lingering on the breast and you arched your body as you wanted it closer. "Perfect…" he whispered against your skin, his lips barely touching your lobe. "Too perfect for such a damn human creature." You moved, without realizing it, rubbing against him, and his body reacted with a slight quiver and a subdued laugh. "Careful, little human …" he muttered in a low tone, scratched with desire. "Do not tease what you are not ready to tame." His hand went down again, stroking your belly with slow, torturing movements, before lingering between your thighs. His kisses began to rain on you like caresses: on the neck, behind the shoulder, in the still-damp hair. «Jay…" you whispered, just turning around to look for his gaze. "You're on painkillers, love. You don't know what you're saying," he replied in a hoarse voice, but his hands hadn't stopped, and you turned a little more, running your fingers through his hair, and in the movement, you felt his cock rub against your bottom. He was hard, and hot despite his skin, and it was clear how much he was struggling with himself. You looked at him with bright eyes. "I need you." He kissed you and it was not a tender kiss, it was a hungry bite, a fire devouring the air between you and slightly pinched your lower lip, savoring a drop of your blood as if it were his condemnation. "You don't know what trouble you're getting yourself into…" he hissed at your mouth. "Then let me sink with you." Your voice trembled, but it was not fear: it was desire. He stared at you, then shook his head with that tired, sharp smile. "You are a stubborn child and too human for your good…" And yet, his fingers were already moving between your legs, tracing slow and skillful circles, his fingers were tracing slow circles against your already hot, swollen cunt, so sensitive that you almost could not hold back the moans.

"Jay… please… I want to hear you inside…" He sighed, and his breath caressed your neck like a broken promise. "you're too cheeky to be a babysitter» You bit your lip, but the answer came out to you anyway: "I know what I want and I want you.» His laughter was low, biting. "Really? And what exactly do you want, honey?" You stammered, but the words melted into a sigh as you felt the entrance of your now swollen folds teasing you: "I want to feel good. I can't take it anymore… to be repressed every time I see you. I've wanted you for months…and you, you with your daughter are sweet, perfect… and you're a bad bastard with me. Looks like you live with a pole up your ass." His laugh this time was true but also as sharp as a barely sharp canine. "You know I could bite you just for what you just said?" He pinched your hips, then with cruel slowness slid a finger into you and your body reacted as if it had always expected it: you groaned, your head back resting on his shoulder, and you groaned. "Continuous… please…" "Fucking human," he hissed at your skin, as his teeth grazed the curve of your shoulder. "So greedy for my finger? What are you gonna do when I fucking dig you in? When will I plant my teeth in your neck and make you mine for real?" You barely moved, tilting your hips, rubbing over his still-captive boner between the two of you and he growled softly.

"Stay still…" order. "If you still move I'll take you like that. Without lubricants, without sweetness and I swear you will scream my name until everyone in the palace hears you." "Jay…" you whined, moving against his fingers. He looked at you with a mixture of exasperation and burning desire. "You behave worse than a child in heat. I should punish you." But he didn't, instead, he slid a second finger into you, bending it with mastery as his thrusts became deeper, more insistent and your body writhed against his, looking for more friction, more pressure, more of everything. "You… yes so… You're great…", you praised him between moans, without shame, as you felt how his cock under you became harder and harder, swollen, impatient. You felt it, you wanted it, and he was losing his temper, too.

"Be careful…" he growled softly," I'm going to rip your soul out if you keep moving like this." You wrapped your arms around His neck, your head resting on his shoulder, and you babbled against his skin: "I'm… I'm coming…" He smiled, damn pleased. "You're only coming with two fingers inside and I haven't even touched your clit… You're so sensitive, so damn mine." You nodded, unable to speak, until your body stretched all together and the orgasm ran through you like an electric shock, making you scream at his chest as you felt your cunt twitch, hot, wet, sticky, even hungrier than him against his fingers. "Good girl…" he muttered, slowly removing his fingers from inside you, looking at them, shiny and wet, but this time he did not bring them to his mouth. Instead, he picked up some of your same mood and slid it down, between your buttocks and the touch made your back arch. It was the first time anyone touched you in that area and he knew it. "If you want it, honey…", he said in a rougher voice,"…I need to make sure it doesn't hurt. You are small, narrow, and too human." He continued to pass his finger carefully through the folds, pressing only gently, preparing you, his tone became lower, more intimate. "I don't want to break you. I want you to feel it, everything, but slow, only if you're ready." You nodded slowly, your heart in your throat and your body on fire, trembling as if you were about to collapse because you wanted to feel it inside you for months now.

"I … I've never done it like this…" you stuttered with a sweaty forehead, fingers clasped against his broad shoulders as if only he could still hold you in balance and he looked at you with his eyes too dark to belong in this world. He kissed you in the hair and put you even closer to him to feel how much he wanted you. "Then I'll do it." murmur. "And it will be nice but if you tell me to stop, I will always stop, remember that." His hard, taut cock slid between your buttocks with sadistic patience and you felt it throb against you, like a living creature, as if choosing you and every slow rub was a bite of pleasure and torture. He had been lubricating you for minutes, with expert, careful fingers, and now the tip was already pressing where no one had ever been. Then he lowered his head and he kissed your neck alternating light hickeys and light bites with his fangs and you heard him growling softly against your skin, as if hungry for everything you were. "I can't take it anymore…" you gasped, your voice broken, damp. "I want you too much…" He giggled against your ear, a low, poisonous laugh of desire. "I knew that under that too-long tongue was hiding a little human slut who wanted to be filled all over." He grabbed you by the hips with force, clutching the flesh as if he wanted to leave a mark on us.

"Relax … sit on top of me. So, let me lead you into hell."Your knees trembled as you lifted, feeling your body straining in the void. "Raise that beautiful little ass for me. That's right." You whined as his hands held you still between your hips. "Are you ready, baby?" he said while teasing the skin of your body. "Yes … yes, I am…" you muttered, and so you felt his toe push slowly, come in, spread It burned but it was a fire you wanted, you had been looking for for months and you both groaned. "Fuck…" you gasped. "It's so big… so big… it hurts but…" you said as you felt it making space inside you deeper and deeper and the only friction that gave you relief was the now slightly lukewarm water. "And you are…" he growled in a broken voice, his breath trembling. "So tight, so hot, Christ, your body is made to be fucked by me. Feel how well you take me…" Tears rose to your eyes from pleasure, and when you were halfway through his entrance, you moaned almost in a sob: "It's too much … too much…" He laughed, with a sound that smelled of sin but also of the desire to break you. "Too much? And you didn't even make it to the better half…" With your hands sunk to the edge of the tub, you lifted yourself a little more, your body tense, heaving, while the cock remained inside you, ravenous and insatiable.

Then you began to descend again, slowly, deeper, and his groan was violent, brutal, like an animal held too long. "Good … So … But me…" His voice cracked, broken, as the grip on your hips became tighter, more urgent. "I can't take it anymore. I want to sink everything in, I want to be tight in you to the last drop." "Jay …" you whined and he giggled seeing you against the mirror trying to get used to his size creeping more and more inside you. He lifted you slightly, holding you by the hips with his hands wide and secure, then let you fall back on his cock in a single, deep lunge and you screamed. Not because of pain, but because of the intensity because it was everywhere, it took all of you, it filled every corner of your body. "Fuck… you're so hot. So fucking tight…» You just turned around, your hair touching his bare chest, and you stammered disjointed words, lost in pleasure: "I hear you… too much inside… not… I can't… you drive me crazy, Jay…" He growled and kissed your bare back. "You're fine, you're perfect when you tremble and look how good you are at taking everything from me…"

His hands pushed you up, then down again and he made you ride him slowly, then forcefully, holding your hips as you drove the pace in the bathroom you could hear only the flow of hot water and the sound of your skin slapping against his, your moans, his roaring breaths… everything blended into a perfect symphony. His cock penetrated you deep, each lunge sent liquid shocks between your legs and when you began to lose balance, his hands went to support you from below, pressing with their thumbs on the curves of your ass. "I want to see you completely lost. I want you to remember this feeling every time you look at me." You felt it throbbing inside you, already at the limit and then it changed angle, pushing the pelvis slightly higher and god hit you right there. "It's too much…." you cried and screamed at how well he was taking you. "No," he growled. "You take it. Because you're my good girl, remember?" He was fucking you from underneath now, pushing in with force and precision, while you rode his body as if you were falling apart and finding your perfect shape in his hands. «Jay… I'm coming…" You groaned, your voice broken, confused between crying and ecstasy. "Come, then," he whispered against your back. "Show me how you break for me."

Your orgasm swept over you like a wave, as he clutched you, your thighs trembled as you took him still inside you, sitting on his cock, your back arched and your hair stuck to sweaty skin. His hands held you steady, wide, icy, sunk into your hips as he drew small circles around your hips. "Look how you take me…" he whispered in a hoarse voice, his forehead resting on your back. "You're so tight, so fucking hot… Christ, you're taking me so well" Every time you let go of him, you felt him rise deep, hard, thick, pulsating. "It's too much … you're too in… I can't…" But your body told another story because you wanted to feel it all inside you. "Yes, you succeed because you are mine. Made to be fucked by me so forever." His hands moved under your breast, grabbing it, squeezing it with gentle brutality as he lifted you, then made you fall back on him, stronger, deeper. The noise of your skins coming together was obscene and whispered dirty praises in your ear. “Look how good you are … my insatiable little human … so hungry for me." You cried, laughed, and groaned, all together. "god … please…don't come inside…" He paused for only a second and the silence was heavier than desire.

"Are you taking the pill?" You did no with your head, breathing hard but his eyes shone. "Then let me fill you up." He grabbed your hair, pulling it slowly to make you turn towards him. "I want you fertilized, I want to see you swollen with my seed and I want to brand you inside, not just outside."

A thrill passed through you because you had never felt so good in your life. "Tell me you want it." "Yes … yes, I want you to fill me… I want your seed inside me." The growl he made was almost animalistic. "Good girl." and then his cock impaled you again, sinking with strength and pure desire. He took you by the throat, with the right squeeze, without really tightening, just to dominate you, and pushed himself deeper, dirtier, as his hips lifted and lowered you as if you were an extension of him. He was fucking you like a god and you were his goddess, his chest was against your back. His mouth was on your neck and bit you slightly not to hurt you or mark you and then came. You felt Him explode inside you, hot, flooding and you felt his release slip dent of you and his hands trembled around your waist as he panted your name. His seed dripped slowly between your thighs, still sitting on him, and you just turned, your cheek against his chest, your heart exploding in your chest.

"Jay" He kissed you on the forehead and in a low voice you said, "I love you." You said it slowly as if you were afraid of his reaction but he squeezed you harder and slid you slightly from him and then straddled you and hugged you and said, "I love you too and I can't pretend otherwise anymore."

You giggled and when you looked up he looked up. "Damn…" he whispered, he took you in his arms again, his face in your hair. "I seriously fell in love with a little girl who acts as a babysitter to my daughter and by the way a human who teases me from the first day she entered through that door!"

💌 vampire taglist: @azzy02 @iluvblackk @skzdelf @hollxe1 @averiesimss @heewenos @bllcksa @yollohblbl @niniissus @hoonprksung @wiccangirl29 @kkamismom12. @bbvalentina @bllcksa @yollohblbl @st4rg1rlies @rosepetals09 @tunafishyfishylike @kkamismom12 @11thenightwemet11 @kryllea @hollxe1 @seungsoftly @yollohblbl @donttellmymomlol20 @soobundle1009 @bvbblyjasmine @jjongmi @lassiie @laurradoesloveu @engeneheree @iweirdthingsblog @kryllea @k1ttyjwon @luvksnn @starlightz02 @fancypeacepersona

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©cutehoons02 all rights reserved 2025.

[arxiwon]

🩸 What Happens When Their Mate Tries to Run Away? | Vampire!Enhypen AU 🩸

🩸 Jungwon 🩸

Jungwon doesn’t chase. He doesn’t need to. The moment you step outside the safe walls of his home, he already knows where you’re going, where you’re hiding, and how long it’ll take before you break. You’re his mate—his property—and he’ll make sure you understand that. When he finally appears in front of you, blocking your escape, his crimson eyes glow with disappointment. "You thought you could leave me?" His voice is soft, almost sad. But the way he grips your wrist, pulling you against his chest, tells you otherwise. "You don’t run from me, love. Now I have to teach you why."

🩸 Heeseung 🩸

He lets you go—for now. Watching from the shadows, waiting for you to realize how helpless you are without him. The world is cruel, but he was always kind to you, wasn't he? When exhaustion weighs you down and fear creeps in, he finally steps forward, smirking as you flinch. "Had fun out there?" Heeseung coos, brushing a cold finger down your cheek. "You look so tired, so weak. I should punish you for trying to leave me, but… you already suffered enough, didn’t you?" He gathers you into his arms, whispering against your neck, "I’ll make sure you never think about leaving me again."

🩸 Jay 🩸

Jay is furious. The moment he realizes you're gone, everything in his path is destroyed—doors ripped from their hinges, furniture shattered into splinters. When he finds you, heart pounding in fear, his anger softens into something more dangerous. "Why did you do this?" His voice shakes, but his hands are steady as he traps you against the wall. "After everything, you still think you can live without me?" His fangs scrape against your neck, a silent warning. "You’re mine. If I have to lock you up to remind you of that, I will."

🩸 Jake 🩸

Jake laughs when he catches you. Not because it’s funny, but because he knew this would happen. He gave you everything—love, warmth, protection—yet you still ran. "You really think I’d let you go?" His hands tighten around your waist as he pulls you into his lap. "You must be crazy, love. Or maybe you just want to be punished." His fangs press against your skin, his voice dropping into a whisper. "I think it’s time you learned what happens when you disobey me."

🩸 Sunghoon 🩸

Sunghoon doesn’t say a word when he finds you. He just stands there, staring, his eyes void of emotion. The silence is worse than if he had yelled. Slowly, he steps forward, and before you can react, you’re pinned to the ground, his cold hands wrapped around your throat. "You broke my heart." His grip tightens just enough to make you gasp. "Now I think it’s only fair I break you in return."

🩸 Sunoo 🩸

Sunoo acts like it doesn’t bother him. "You were always such a bad girl, weren’t you?" He sighs dramatically, crouching down in front of you. His fingers tilt your chin up, forcing you to meet his glowing eyes. "I should be mad. But really, I just feel sorry for you. You thought you could run from me?" He giggles, shaking his head. "That’s adorable, love. But now you have to pay the price for hurting my feelings."

🩸 Ni-ki 🩸

Ni-ki takes his time. He tracks you for hours, enjoying the chase. When he finally finds you, he doesn’t grab you right away. No, he just watches—letting you think you still have a chance. And then, in the blink of an eye, he’s behind you, his breath hot against your ear. "Keep running." His voice is deep, filled with amusement. "I like it when you make things fun for me." But the moment you try to move, his arms are around you, locking you in place. "Game over, sweetheart. Now let’s go home."

[dazedhqqn]

Vampire enha hard thoughts

vampire!enha x human!reader (fem)

where they would feed from

————————————————————————

- heeseung

Heeseung feeds from your neck, mainly as an excuse to mark you somewhere where everyone can see. He’ll hold you against a wall, and bite into the curve of your neck. But first he’ll tease you, licking and kissing your skin before finally piercing.

- jongseong

Jay loves feeding from your collarbone. He loves hearing your heartbeat increase the deeper his teeth pierce, the way your breath stutters. It’s like music to his ears.

- jaeyun

Jake loves feeding from your inner thighs, face buried in your plush skin. Feels like heaven to him. He loves the way you tug on his hair when his teeth pierce your soft skin, the way you squirm when he licks up any excess blood. He also loves when you squeeze his head in between your thighs, he can’t help but grow hard everytime.

- sunghoon

he prefers feeding on your pointer finger, he’s afraid if he bites anywhere else he might lose control of his urges. he makes the prettiest expression while feeding, eyebrows furrowed, eye lash’s fluttering, he even whines into your hand a bit. He loves the taste of you. Just you in general.

- seonwoo

your lips, weird right? He’d initiate it as a kiss, then once he starts licking at your lips you know he wanted to feed. sunoo loves tasting your sweet blood on his tongue as he kisses you.

- jungwon

jungwon likes feeding from you wrist, only to watch your face when he feeds. Watching for any signs of discomfort or pain. He also likes the eye contact. He’d kiss your wrist after.

- riki

riki loves biting your neck, even without feeding, he’ll find any excuse to be near it and take in your smell. His fingers would run through your hair as he dug his face into your neck, biting slowly, savoring the taste of you.

————————————————————————

rems’ note - lmk if u want more lol

[hyeitsrim]

caught my eye | (S.JY)

“is this illegal? it feels illegal”—Pinkpantheress, illegal | y/n might look like a normal, innocent sweet looking person but she’s actually a girl with hidden telekinesis powers. the thing is? she doesn’t know how to control it. That’s when her whole family of out-cast with different hidden powers of their own too, sent her to an out-cast school, where she could learn and socialize with people that has special powers like her too. but then, in the midst of it all, an out cast caught her eyes and maybe… just maybe…. the faintest sight of fangs in his grin attracted her…. | ‘desire… that’s the one thing that never dies.’

WARNINGS!!: mentions of bullying, kinda glory? y/n is a badasssssuh, inspired by the enha new concept and lowk wednesday, mentions of other kpop idols too: Eunchae from lsrfm (more in the future, maybe...?) [wc: 1.5k]

genre: vampire!jake x fem!telekinetic!reader

—”hey! get away from her!” you called out sternly, storming over to a group of teenage douchebags messing with your classmate. “oh hey look! it’s Chelsea’s prince charming!” one of them snickered. “i said get away!” you said before one of the students gets slammed into a wall and another one against a locker. gasps erupted everywhere in the hallway and everyone was whispering and staring at you with weird looks.

there it was, it happened again, your eyes were firmly locked onto the boys sticking against the wall with an invisible force but as fast as it happened, when your eyes softened, they were both released from the wall. you didn’t know what it was, everytime you get a little too aggressive with your words, too harsh on your staring, things would either get send flying across the room or send crashing into something. Actually, you knew what it was…. of course, you knew, you came from a family of out-casts, but… how does it happen? you have no idea.

you quickly walked over to Chelsea, holding a hand out for her to grab, “are you alright?” you asked and she stared at you with glassy, shaky eyes, her head nodding frantically before she quickly walked away. your eyes follow her figure carefully, watching as she disappeared before you flitted your eyes towards the group of bullies who quickly ran away when you stared at them. one of the guys you slammed in the wall earlier was still recovering and you walked over to him, grabbing him by the collar as you forced him to stand up, “lay a finger on that girl again and i won’t hesitate to break your bones” you muttered, earning a shudder from the boy. “y-yes, y/n” the boy stammered out before you released him, watching him cower away and ran with blood dripping down his nose.

you smoothened down your clothes, shooting a wary glare to everyone in the room. before you could get to class, an announcement was made on the school speakers, “y/n, please visit the principal’s office” ugh, not again. you thought before stealthily moving towards the stairs to the office.

──★ ˙🍓 ̟!!

“y/n, this happens way too frequently. i’m sorry but i have nothing else to do than to expel you right now and call your parents” the principal said, leaning forward to clasp his hands together. the corner of your lips twitched, oh of course, the school fears you, you can practically smell it. you see how the principal’s eyes searched yours in anticipation and fear, his left eye twitching slightly in distress. “oh….” you muttered, trying to sound disappointed.

“i’ll call them now” he said as he quickly grabbed his phone and tapped on the screen before the device was held up to his ear, his eyes everywhere in the room but yours. pathetic.

time passed, your eyes roamed around his office in boredom before the door to the office swung open, your parents in view. their brooding figure and stoic expression making the principal feel even more on edge, “ah… Mrs. l/n and Mr. l/n, take a seat” he gestured towards the chairs in front of his desk. your parents sat down on each side of you, not even sparing you a glance as your father just raised a brow up to the principal. “you may have heard that y/n is going to get expelled soon and i would like to ask is anything going on at home?” he asked.

you stared at your parents, wide eyes boring into their side profiles as your father’s jaw clenched and your mother flashed the faintest smile to the principal, “oh of course not, darling” he voice coming out as velvet silk. your father nodded firmly in agreement to your mother, his gaze still trained on the principal. “oh uh.. that’s good” he said before clearing his throat, “well.. i’ll email you both any further details but you may go now” he said as he shifted in his seat, the three sharp gazes in front of him was probably gonna slice him into three separate parts if this went on any longer. “very well, thanks” your mother said smoothly as she stood up with your father. you stood up too, following them closely. you turned around and flashed the principal a smirk before disappearing.

──★ ˙🍓 ̟!!

Few weeks have passed and you were moving into your new school, a school for out-cast. hmm. you loaded your bags out of your car, pecking your mother and father on the cheek and flashed them a huge smile, waving goodbye excitedly at them. they stared at you with cold gazes and nodded in acknowledgement before moving back into their car, ready to go. eh, you’re used to this; cold and emotionless parents but you know they love and care about you deep down.

you turned towards the campus in front of you, the walls were stacked up with worn out looking bricks and a huge clock positioned in the middle of the building. you walked inside, ready and excited to go to your room. the new principal was rather tall and scary looking, her smile almost slit-like and eyes judging you already. “ah, miss y/n?” she questioned as she leaned down to examine you better. “yes ma’am!” you said and she was taken aback by your cheerful demeanor, an amused smirk on her face, “i’m Mrs. choi. your new principal, let me show you to your room” she said as she gestured to follow her.

you arrived at your room shortly after, and it looks like you have a roommate. she stood up from her desk, her eyes observing you before a bright smile appeared on her face, “is this my roommie?” she asked and Mrs. choi nodded. “yes. enjoy yourself, y/n” Mrs. choi whispered to you and you nodded before stepping into the room with your bags, the door slamming behind you. the girl stood before you had a shy smile on, her feet shifting from one another and her hair was blonde. “i’m Eunchae!” she started and you hummed, a smirk playing on your lips, “as you might’ve heard, y/n” you introduced and Eunchae beamed, “nice name!!” “thanks” you said with a shrug, settling your stuff down, “what are you?” she asked and you quirked a brow up at her, “pardon?”

“i mean, your powers” she asked with that toothy grin and you huffed out a chuckle, standing straight again, “i have telekinesis” you simply said. “cool! i have mind-reading powers” she said and you raised another brow up, “oh really?” you asked and she nodded, “though i can only use it when i’m desperate to know something” she said with a sigh.

──★ ˙🍓 ̟!!

Eunchae was showing you around, her excited demeanor radiating off strongly, though you didn’t mind. “library!” she mused as she dragged you into it with her, a laugh escaping you. maybe this school isn’t as bad as you’ve thought.

just then, you accidentally bumped into someone. you stopped in your tracks to turn around to apologize, and then you were awestruck by the man in front of you. his glasses perched perfectly on his nose and his hair tousled in such a charming way that complete his look. “sorry” you said shortly, your eyes still wide. the man grinned, a hint of fangs peeking from his mouth, “no worries” he said before disappearing, though it felt like he didn’t even move at all.

Eunchae was grinning from ear to ear, your thoughts were literally aloud in words for her. she knew what you were thinking but kept silent as she quietly listened to your thoughts.

════════════════════════════════════════════

作者.ᐟ: inspired by the new concepts!! i like it sm! eughhh (i need jay sb why does he look so good and stop bias wrecking me bruh)

part two!!

[justbelievinginmagic]

im(mortal) - part 1: blood moon.

pairing(s): vampire!enhypen ot7 x fem!reader, series summary: Seven souls struggle with the bitter dregs of eternal life. As they hide amongst human society, they try to discover a cure for their curse, decade after decade, century into century. In their investigations, they find more than they could imagine brewing including a strange magnetic pull towards a human woman. Will they be able to find their humanity once more or will their world crumble beneath the weight of immortality? glimpse: A century-old mansion stood in the middle of nowhere engulfed by an inferno of fire. Seven figures stand in front of it; each with sharpened bittersweet smiles on their mouths as they remember how it all started so so long ago. warnings/tags: Inspired by Enhypen's MVs lore & Enhypen's Dark Moon album (but not really its lore), Vampire AU, sort of Soulmate AU, College AU, heavy science fiction inspiration, ot7 x reader but not poly ot7 (but some are really close tbh), 3rd person POV, use of YN, mature topics, angst, human experimentation, medicine (pills/shots), death, injuries, biting, medical imagery, implied abuse, canonical violence & trauma, vampire lore, blood, Ni-ki as Riki, vomiting, illnesses, fire, arson, no mention of YN this chapter as a heads up! let me know if more tags need to be added! word count: 7.3k -> next chapter series masterlist

Seven different wooden chairs were the only furniture that remained in the large solarium. The wall paper had peeled over the years, revealing different variations of ugly, always baby-blue print. The most recent, which was faded beyond belief, was a lattice print; the one under it was a honeycomb pattern; beneath that was a plain baby blue wallpaper. Chipping. Fading.

There were more echoes of the past. Dark mold clung around ghostly shapes of posters, strangely shaped equipment, and long-gone furniture - the shape of a piano was in one corner and the outline of a fine-china cabinet was in another. The linoleum floor was cracked and warped revealing wooden panels beneath. The room smelt of mildew, and there was the faint sound of dripping water from somewhere.

Sunghoon sat down on his chair, the aged wood creaking under his weight. It was strange. Looking down the row of chairs, he could see ghosts of themselves. Jungwon with his wide dark brown eyes. Sunoo clinging to his stuffed bear that he loved so much. Riki’s feet dangling off his chair, too short for his feet to touch the floor yet. He could smell the disinfectant in the air. It always smelt like bleach and chemicals in the solarium despite the large windows lining the walls. They never were opened, white curtains drawn shut. Even now they remained, yellowed with age and soggy with mold.

He had spent so much time here. They all had but he could walk this room with his eyes shut and he wouldn’t have bumped into one piece of furniture or step on one creaking piece of plank of wood in the flooring.

He let out a sigh; his eyes shutting as he tried to calm his racing heart. This was the exact reason they had to return to the mansion. They needed to. Too many memories, too many connections, too many emotions. Sunghoon hoped Jay was alright.

“I found him,” a voice called out, the tone gentle and melodic as usual.

Sunghoon’s lips upturned as he turned away from the past to look at Sunoo. With his bleach blonde hair peeking out from beneath a beanie, his leathered jacket, and tattered jeans, it was easy to be reminded of reality. Sunoo was not a little boy with dark black hair clinging to a stuffed animal anymore. He hadn’t been for a long time.

The linoleum squeaked beneath Sunoo’s shoes as he walked into the large room.

“Wow,” he breathed softly. “I thought seeing the rooms were weird.”

He sighed out, the sound mimicking the breath Sunghoon had heaved moments earlier.

“It’s weird for sure,” Sunghoon said, rising to his feet after a long stretch with his head tilting back as far as it could before straightening and standing.

There was a rustling like a wind brushing through the room. And with it, the world melted away, glowing faintly, just enough to paint the room in a nostalgic light. The wallpaper was honeycombed pale blue; the ceiling fan overhead spun slowly; the room was casted with natural and gas light. A table sat in the center, circular and covered in a white sheet. 7 dining spots were set, a plate, a fork, and a papered cup, each. Each of their chairs were in their spot – polished wood gleaming in the light.

The sound of piano playing a familiar melody that they all had once help create.

Sunoo smiled at Sunghoon. His hair looked darker now in the allusion, his face rounder. His teeth were duller.

“Sunoo,” Sunghoon pleaded, shutting his eyes. “Please don’t.”

With that, the allusion washed away like a chalk painting on a rainy day, turning grey and muddied until the aged room was all that remained. The younger frowned.

“I hate this place,” Sunghoon murmured.

“Same,” Jay’s voice chimed in.

Their heads swung around to see the other man enter the doorway. He grimaced at the sight of the blue room. Jay leaned on the door frame, his hands resting on either side of the door.

“Jungwon’s all done. You guys ready?”

Sunoo took a deep breath in, and Jay winced.

“Sunoo,” he sighed out, taking a step forward almost instinctively.

“I’m fine,” Sunoo insisted, immediately.

His smile was sweet as a spoonful of sugar, wide eyes gentle as he shifted on his feet. Twisting restlessly, his arms spun a bit as he did so, childlike. Jay raised a singular brow before turning towards Heeseung’s call from down the hall.

He didn’t believe Sunoo for a moment. But all Sunoo did was avoid the elder’s gaze, glancing aside, his gaze gravitating to the chairs this time. His chair looked so tiny now. Was it always that small?

“C’mon,” Jay gestured towards them with his head. “They’re waiting.”

With one final look, Sunghoon left the solarium, passing Jay with a steady look in his eye. Jay returned it, sympathy echoing on his face. Sunoo stood there, his hands moving to play with the straps of his backpack.

“You think I’ll feel better?” Sunoo questioned, quietly.

“We all will once we’re done,” Jay commented, leaning on the door frame. It creaked with his weight tauntingly. Jay glanced down the chairs lined up beside him. His chair was missing an arm now.

“I think it’ll help.” He admitted, not looking at the younger. “You’ve been holding onto it for so long, Sunoo.”

There was a tiny hum in the back of Sunoo’s throat. Jay could feel the emotions radiating off of him, the twisted emotions of nostalgia, hurt, pain, sorrow, and strangely euphoria. Jay didn’t understand how Sunoo could feel any happy memories here.

Sunoo shouldered his backpack off and unzipped it. Inside was a stuffed bear. Greying with age, covered in stitches and makeshift patches of fabric to keep his stuffing from tumbling out. He was damaged but well-loved. Old but cared for. Sunoo plucked the thing up. The fur wasn’t soft anymore despite its age. No amount of cuddling made it more gentle, it was always harsh against his skin. He swallowed, looking over at the bear.

Jay glanced aside.

Sunoo breathed out, a thumb brushing over a glass eye, over the worn silk of the ribbon around its neck. With another shuddering breath in, Sunoo placed the bear on his chair. He sat so nicely as if meant for it.

“It’s time,” Sunoo whispered.

“It is,” Jay agreed, watching as Sunoo picked up his now empty backpack.

With quick footsteps, Sunoo exited the solarium without another look. Jay glanced around it once last time before shutting the door behind them with a clank. The two men walked through the mansion, down a dusty hallway. Their feet remembered each creaky floorboard as they continued onwards.

The foyer was all wood and white peeling paint. A singular electric light hung by a chain above the group of men standing in a semi-circle. Waiting for them.

Jungwon’s face was stoney and serious, but at the sight of the others he offered a tight-lipped smile.

“All good?” he asked.

Jay nodded in reply for the group. “Yeah, just checking out the solarium.”

Sunghoon’s hands trembled he noticed then; he hid them in his jeans’ pockets.

“I’m so ready for this place to be nothing but a memory – for good,” Niki commented from his side, his voice sounding harsh as he glared at the high ceilings. The stairwell nearby casted a shadow over his face.

Heeseung said nothing but there was a tickle in the back of their heads – his agreement palpable. Sunoo was quiet as he went to Jungwon’s side. He didn’t grab his arm, but he huddled close. Jay rubbed his forehead as he nodded.

He wanted all of this to be over.

“Let’s do it then.” Jake said. His fingers began to glow, ember hot red.

Dark red eyes took in the mansion for the last time before they glanced at each other. A solemn nod from Jungwon was all they needed before they crept outside of the mansion. Jake’s hands trailed over the wall; it would be described as reverently if there wasn’t such a deep scowl on his pretty features. His lip was curled back into a grimace as flames licked from his fingertips and onto the century old wood of the mansion. A complicated look flickered over his face as he watched the fire catch, a surge of flames erupting up the white paint and traveling higher and higher until they caught onto the ceiling.

“That should do,” he heard Heeseung’s voice in his head, encouraging Jake to join the group outside the burning mansion. As he did so, Jungwon closed the front door with a heavy slam.

-

With a slam, the door thudded shut, piquing the interest of the two boys peering down from in between the stairwell’s posts. Two small faces pressed against the wooden balusters as they watched a man enter the mansion. White coat, spectacles, and carrying two leather bags that were heavy in his grasp. Behind him stood a trio of nurses in their pastel-mint, perfectly pressed dresses and ivory aprons and caps.

“It’s a doctor,” the elder whispered to his friend. Their eyes widened as they focused back far below them.

The doctor glanced upwards, hearing their small voice. He smiled. His footsteps echoed on the floorboards as he went towards the manager’s office.

“Is someone sick?” the other boy hugging his toy bear whispered back.

“No,” the other shook his head. “I don’t think so. . . “

“Maybe they want to adopt one of us?” the younger offered, fiddling with the bow on the bear’s neck.

“Maybe.”

There was a loud thud as the doctor and his entourage entered the manager’s office. The door’s lock sliding into place was even louder. The youngest flinched, fiddling with the silk on the bow even more, soothingly.

“Let’s go tell the others.” The elder said encouragingly, standing from his spot to rush down the upstairs hall to the bedrooms.

-

Not long later, the orphans stood in a line by height, much to the despair of the eldest who was still shorter than the youngers. Each one was examined. An illuminator shined into their brown eyes, into their tiny mouth. A nurse took down notes that the doctor murmured behind his medical mask.

Tapetum lucidum, negative. Tapetum lucidum, negative. Tapetum lucidum, negative.

Number 6 and 11, primary. Number 6 and 11, permanent. Loose number 11, primary.

Their blood was drawn in multiple small vials later by the nurses. Some of the youngest struggled with the blood draw, afraid of needles and blood. A nurse said with a cool smile, “You’ll get used to it.”

This wouldn’t be the first time they’d line up like this. Sometimes, it was weekly; other times, it was daily. Medical notes needed to be updated frequently was all the doctor said.

Then came the pills. They took at least one with every meal; some of them took more than others. When Jay had asked a nurse why were they taking them (they hadn’t taken any ever before!), she had reassured him it was for his well-being. Good boys take their medicine. She chirped out.

The old white-haired manager welcomed the doctor to set up an office in an unused music room, pushing the piano out into the hallway where it sat, taller than most of the boys.

Rules around the mansion began to change soon after. There would be no more adoption visits, no more potential guardians for the time being. No more new additions to the household either. The orphanage’s manager, the old woman with ashy white hair, had smiled at them around the table at dinner time. Each in their chair donated by the nearby town, mismatched like themselves.

She said this was for the best. That this was a way for them to be good boys of society.

They took their pills that waited for them in a small paper cup.

There was another change. No more outside time. No visits into town. No visitors at all. Their solarium that they had once used for potential adoptive parents to meet them turned into a sort of common room, a living room and dining hall all in one. A table for meals had been set up with a white sheet covering its surface. A collection of their toys sat in a corner with a rocking chair that was nearly falling apart. The piano had been pushed inside by the older boys; two raggedy repatched sofas were there as well to lounge about on. As they grew, a bookshelf was shoved against the wall next to the manager’s fine china cabinet (that they were to never touch or else they’d be punished.) It was where they would live, play, assemble for meals, and assemble for treatment. That was their outside now. A tiny blue wall-papered solarium with humidity fogged windows, covered in white lacy curtains.

They complained at first. These changes were horrible. They loved playing outside on the apple tree’s swing and the nearby flower fields. They wouldn’t go into town but let them play outside, please. But, when any of them tried to sneak outside, their punishments grew.

First, it had been the addition of heavy-padlocked entrances and exits that only the doctor, manager, and head nurse held the keys for. When the youngest stole the head nurse’s key when she wasn’t looking (to go play on the swing on the yard’s apple tree), they were quickly limited to only the manager. When the most-sensitive of the group crept outside a window to go pet a stray cat on the back porch, the isolation room was introduced.

It was a bare dusty thing– an old dance room that was used when there were girl orphans. Once it had become an all-boy’s orphanage, it was left abandoned, cold, and grimy. It was dark; there was only candle-based lighting in that room. Gas lighting was slowly being introduced to the cities and towns of new, and, while some of the house had the trailing, twisting wires leading to easily burnt-out light bulbs, the isolation room didn’t. Two floor-to-ceiling walls of cracking mirrors decorated opposite walls of the room with a barre screwed into one of them. Another wall was old brick, harsh and unwelcoming. It felt like an endless room if you stared long enough into the mirrors. A room where you’d be locked away until you were more well-behaved. To think about your actions. (Which were what? Leaving the house they were trapped in? They didn’t understand why things had to change.) The youngest hated the room.

He became very familiar with the room throughout the following years.

-

It was a slow life. They grew taller; they lost baby teeth; they celebrated birthdays. Their medicine increased and decreased; their rooms grew more familiar. The isolation room became common-place especially as some of the boys edged into teenagerhood. Soon, the doctor moved into the office. Soon, there were even more tests. More pills, even injections. Their halls reeked of antiseptic and the metallic tang of medical equipment. The manager passed away on Jay’s twelfth birthday, but nothing much changed except for the fine-china cabinet being raided and left empty – by who the boys never knew for sure.

The pills continued. The examinations continued.

-

Jungwon was the first to be considered a success by the doctor.

He was no older than ten when he discovered his new talent – speed. Indoor races back and forth in the solarium became easy; in fact, he kept teasing the others that he was faster, faster, faster than them all. But it wasn’t just speed he discovered: it was hunger. A hunger that crawled in the pit of his stomach. A hunger that was a maw to all food.

Hungry. Hungry. Hungry.

Nothing satiated it. Nothing until he snapped at a nurse. Bit into her arm with the feral nature of a dog captured. A fit of anger, a tantrum, the doctor had noted at first until… until… there was a growl, inhuman. Deep in the young boy’s chest. The boy, the sweet friendly boy who hated the pills ever so much, glared up at the doctor. Red eyes, red mouth, white fangs.

Instead of being scolded that evening and tossed into isolation, he was given the sweetest treat he had ever tasted. A red jelly that jiggled like a belly while laughing. But smelt of iron-blood.

He was a success. He deserved to be celebrated.   

The others followed swiftly.

-

Heeseung hated the pills they were forced to ingest. Wake up; pills. Lunch; pills. Dinner; pills. Pills, pills, pills. He hated them. He hadn’t been there the longest – that title went to Jungwon, but he was the eldest of the boys. So, since day one of the doctor’s arrival, he had a higher dose of everything until it was proven unhealthy for the boy. What was unhealthy was difficult to determine apparently. He’d vomit; his stomach cramped. He’d be trembling with chills and hot with a fever within hours. He was bedridden; he was exhausted; he was jittery.

He had seven pills in his cup. Why? Why? Jay had two pills!

He asked why; they didn’t tell him. When his symptoms grew, Heeseung tried to figure out how to feel better. Take more pills, take less. Nothing worked. His body weening from the medicine was just as bad as taking the medicine he realized. His skin crawled. His head felt like it was going to explode. Sometimes he couldn’t bear the sunlight touching his skin. It burned his eyes, forcing him to stay in his room. Once he tried to hide his pills. He tucked them into his pillow, threw them out the window. When it was discovered by one of the trio of nurses, he wasn’t punished. He simply was force-fed the pills rather than allowing himself to drop each tablet on his tongue. That happened for a month. After that he didn’t challenge them again. Grimacing, he’d swallow down the pills pressed against his mouth. Always at the supervision of a too-calm nurse with a sick smile on her perfectly lipsticked lips.

He tried to talk to Jungwon, but Jungwon didn’t talk much anymore. He simply stared. Stared and stared as he sat at the head of the dinner table, plate empty. Eyes empty. When was the last time he saw his friend smile… eat… It scared him. Sometimes Heeseung swore he could hear his voice in his head.

Hungry. Hungry. Hungry.

Can’t. Can’t. Can’t.

Control. Control. Control.

Heeseung would itch and writhe and change until he too couldn’t stand the taste of food. Couldn’t swallow another bite of rice. Until he tried to attack his nurse as she fed him his pills. With aching teeth and a gnawing stomach, he bit his nurse’s hand as she forced the pills down his throat. Heeseung thought her blood tasted sweeter than any treat he’s ever tasted.

That night at the dinner table, there were now only five plates full of food and two bare. It was also the first time Jungwon heard another voice in his head, one that sounded like the eldest without him opening his mouth. Their dark rubied eyes locked.

Hungry. Hungry. Hungry. Heeseung chanted in Jungwon’s head. 

-

The youngest Riki, often called by the nickname ‘Niki’ after he stumbled over his own name in introductions at the orphanage, was exceptionally difficult. He spat out his pills; he’d get placed in isolation. He fought with the others; he’d get placed in isolation. He stole Sunoo’s bear; isolation. Far too often, he was in the locked room. Solidarity confinement to encourage him to play nice. It just made him feel invisible and hurt – especially when none of the boys visited him.

Except for Sunoo who loved to act as older brother to the younger (despite holding his stuffed animal close to his chest everywhere he went in the mansion). He’d sit outside the isolation room’s door, whispering ‘hello’s underneath the door’s gap or peering through the keyhole to see each other and wave his bear’s paw at him. Riki would tease him about his stupid bear, but then he’d cling to his own pillow as the nurses began to inject whatever was in the pills into his arm. It was then proven that he was no troublemaker, just a lost little boy clinging to a pillow as another shot was pressed into his arm. Tears trickled down his cheeks.

Riki hadn’t taken the pills in a while, not like his hyungs. He told his doctor that he liked the pills. Can’t he take the pills again? He wouldn’t spit them out, promise! The injections hurt. His arm would ache. Then, his stomach would ache. Then, his head would ache. He’d toss and turn on the examination table in agony.

It went on for so long. Sometimes the others would hear his cries at night, whimpering for a mother or father that wasn’t there. Eventually, Jungwon would sneak out at night, too fast to catch, and rest on the floor outside of the isolated room to whisper comfort to the youngest.

It’ll be okay. You’re okay.

I’m here, Riki. I’m here.

With the sadness, the loneliness, the pain, there was a violence brewing in Riki after each check-up. He was angry, no, beyond that, he was rageful. He wished the nurses, the doctor, the manager of the orphanage, could feel what he felt – like time had stopped. He found out one day that his birthday had passed with no celebration.

“It was a lesson,” a nurse warned as she drew his blood. “Good boys get to celebrate fun things.”

He watched as his blood filled the vial with disdain. It looked sludge-thick, dark red.

He craved something he didn’t understand right then. His stomach curdled and ached. But food tasted of ash, of dirt, of everything bad. Bad, bad, bad. He refused to eat, gnashing teeth at anything they offered. He wouldn’t even drink a sip of blood when it was finally presented to him. In an unassuming white Dixie Cup. He threw it at the doctor, growling.

“Ungrateful boy,” the doctor hissed out.

Hungry, he thought.

Hungry. Hungry. Hungry.

He needed food, not blood!

They had to restrain him, a shackle on his ankle to the nearby brick wall of the isolation room… until he tore it away from the wall it was mounted in. Until his hunger blinded him in blood-red. Until he was somehow out of his room, on the other side of the locked door. Until he was tearing his fangs into the first person he saw – into the neck of his friend who often came to sit outside his bolted-room door to talk. Sunoo.

-

Sunoo had been born by the bite rather than the pill. Riki had drained him near dry before the nurses had found them in a daze. He was half-dead, and the only way he was recovered was through Jungwon. His blood was siphoned into the dying veins of Sunoo. His venom; his blood; their venom; their blood.

Sunoo’s eyes flashed opened, and he saw only red for a moment. Vermillion haze. Until he saw his friends, his so-called brothers, peering over at him on the makeshift medical bed. His throat ached, but he simply smiled. Fangs and all.

He suffered the most after his transformation. Unlike the others whose symptoms came and went in waves, building gradually before they succumbed, he went through everything at the same time. He couldn’t go into daylight, couldn’t bear the touch of the sun or the glare of lights; he was hungry all the time and would attack for it. He’d try to bite his brothers; he’d eat scrapes he’d find from the night’s dinner; he’d vomit. Anger would overwhelm – he even tore the limbs off his beloved stuffed bear which left him crying inconsolably. He felt like he wasn’t even himself. Unsafe.

Hungry. Hungry. Hungry.

His feet moved so fast one day; some thought he was levitating… until they realized he was. If he was scared or hungry or anything, he’d fly away, hide away in a closet. He’d hug his stitched-up bear close to him, whispering words with sharpened teeth. All the while he hoped this was all a nightmare he’d wake up from.

Sunoo learned, if he tried hard enough, he could live in his mind. Making up a world he loved. Where he felt safe. Sometimes if someone was close to him, they could see his fantasy world too. So bright, so beautiful. Only for it to eventually fade away into this. A mansion of horrors.

-

At this point, the boys had been divided up. Half remained in the solarium, the other half in their bedrooms. The solarium had been converted into a horrible makeshift medical office. White bedsheets were draped about, over the bookshelf, the table, their chairs, the sofa. Everything. Medical equipment – syringes, needles, pills, IV drips. A machine that beeped with their heart beats. They were poked and prodded. Doses were increased.

Jake. Jay. Sunghoon. Grew. Hungry. Hungry. Hungry.

-

Jake had a strange case of side effects. Hot and cold. He was cold. Icy to the touch. He felt half-dead for days before breaking out into a fever. So hot and restless. He’d sink down in icy baths for hours. He felt more like he was half-fish than human sometimes.

He’d rest his forehead against the cool bathtub’s porcelain and breath in and out only for that once icy cold water to become boiling hot. His hands glowed, heat pulsing from them as the water bubbled about him. He’d throw himself out of the tub, scalding hot water sloshing onto the tiles below.

Nurses would run in. Fearful only for him to look at them, eyes strangely bloody, and his hands sparking with fire.

He was locked up like Riki once was. With the addition of flame-retardant gloves and chains tight on his hands. He was quiet when they did so. He grew quieter and quieter as the days passed. With hot flashes, cold flashes, hunger flashes, he felt like a live wire.

Sometimes, when he was bored, he’d stare at the lights, blinding white lights until they’d burst. Until he flooded the electric grid and the entire house suffered power outages. He didn’t know how he did it. All he knew was that he could. Something was wrong.  

One day, when he felt cold as ice with a stomach gasping with hunger, the smell of food disgusted him. The nurse sent to feed him his porridge made the wrong move. Unclasping his shackles, undoing his gloves. He pounced, more monster than man and bit her, drained her. There were no other nurses rushing in; there was no doctor to stop him. Jake didn’t stop drinking, drinking, drinking until it was just him and the corpse of a nurse he’d known for half of his life. He passed out in a fever soon after, still hungry he realized pathetically.

Hungry. Hungry. Hungry.

He was found by the doctor hours later. His mouth was cleaned, his clothes cleaned; he was laying in his bed and not the isolation room. The nurse was gone. Where had she gone? The young teen stared up with blood-red eyes. The doctor smiled and said everything was okay now. He was forgiven.

A cup of blood was handed to him in a paper cup.

Jake took it, knowing he was freed from his cage, his restraints gone, but somehow still a prisoner to a new shackle he didn’t want to bear.

-

From day one, Jay had always listened to the nurses, had listened to their manager, had listened to the doctor. For years, he listened and obeyed. He was a good patient, a good boy. Trusting their words as they fed him pill after pill, shot after shot. No matter how much he cried when his arm ached or his stomach churned. They’d say he was a good boy for taking his medicine. “Why couldn’t you be good like Jay?” He had heard that said hundreds of times.

So, it was funny how miserable he felt. How bad like a rotten apple sitting in the sun. Jay just felt awful. His friends one by one turned into someone unlike themself. Biting, blood, red eyes. Everyone felt angry… he didn’t know how he knew it but he did. Sometimes, if he stared at them long enough, he could just tell.

The nurse was upset today. She was sad and guilty… they tasted like the smell of rain, like salty soup.

Another nurse hadn’t come into care for them. Maybe she was with the others? He couldn’t tell.

Sunghoon was lonely; it tasted like woodchips, like dust in the corners of a room. Jay tried to play a game with him, but soon their different symptoms distracted them. A headache, nausea, exhaustion.   

The doctor was never angry. He wasn’t sad either. He was so joyful at their suffering. Jay could taste it like it was liquid sugar, melting on his tongue. Jay hated him. Sometimes he hoped the doctor could feel it when he glared at him. Sometimes Jay swore he did, when he’d flinch or take too sharp of breath in.

While Jay was one of the eldest, he was one of the last to change fully. He was stuck between food and blood for a long time. Unlike the others, his eyes didn’t turn red when he was given a cup of blood. He drank it down like a good boy, but it didn’t have the same effect as the others. So, they’d mix some blood into his soups, his porridge, his rice. Everything a pale pink. He’d throw it up. Food disagreeing with him; blood disagreeing with him. More tests had him hooked up to IVs, and his blood tested.

The nurses said it was his will not the treatment’s fault. The duo said they saw him hungry during their blood-draws; they said they saw how he’d lick his lips whenever the blood from his own veins dripped into the vial.

Blood called to him like a siren from a fairytale.

The first time he attacked the doctor for his blood was the last time he drank from a human who was awake. Their pain, their emotions flaring, he felt it then. Understood it then. It bittered everything. It hurt. He hated it. He hated it all.

He drank blood from an IV. From a cup. From the jelly the nurses made. Never from another being. Even if his stomach growled and the maw inside him whispered: Hungry. Hungry. Hungry.

Jay refused to be a monster.

-

Sunghoon was last to change. The loneliest. He was kept away from the boys after they turned one by one. Locked away in the solarium, he slept there, ate, read. Every now and then, Jungwon would visit him by the window. One warm hand pressed against the glass, larger than Jungwon’s cold palm.

He felt weak. Not only was he somehow not changing to whatever his friends were – but he was exhausted daily. Laying in the solarium, he began to sleep during the day, staying awake all night. As time pass alone, his tests grew worse. His muscles were deteriorating. Like his body was eating away at him. Pain became Sunghoon.

They whispered; he heard them. Should they use the others’ blood? Their venom? But Sunoo was so feral; he apparently had just begun to adjust. Could they handle another boy acting so erratic?

He couldn’t understand that he was dying. He was in a blur; sometimes it felt like the world would just blend into a watercolored haze, and he’d be outside his body. He knew where the nurses were, the doctor, the other boys. Their hearts, their breaths, their muscles flexed as his deteriorated. It was strange, scary.

It wasn’t until one day there was a horrible cracking sound from his body, unearthly. Inhumanly monstrous but also frighteningly fragile that the doctor simply force-fed him blood. Just regular blood. No venom, no medicine, no Jungwon or Riki or Jay or Heeseung.

It was vile. Blood wasn’t meant for humans. . . was he a human? He didn’t know anymore. The blood was poured down his throat. Head tilted back; nose plugged. Iron-sick, ruby-slick, he’d cough and cough as he sat up from his ‘feeding.’ Blood dripped down his chin, staining his sweater.

“You look better,” said the doctor with a disgustingly joyful smile. A bright light shined in his eyes made him blearily blink.

“Tapetum lucidum, positive.” The doctor said pleasantly, to the nearby nurse before clicking the illuminator off.

Red eyes, red mouth, baby fangs. It took time, but they grew and elongated after two weeks of forced blood drinking 3 times a day. Despite his hunger, Sunghoon hated blood. He didn’t want it; he didn’t want the hunger.

Hungry. Hungry. Hungry.

The next time, on day fifteen, he drank willingly. Not just one cup but seven.

-

The examinations didn’t stop. The medicine didn’t stop. Even after all of this, they were forced to drink this blood and their pills.

The only difference was that they finally weren’t separated. The day they were reunited was strange. Waves of emotions only led to the boys staring at one another like strangers. Some looked so different. Sunghoon hadn’t seen Jungwon in over a year. He almost didn’t recognize him. Riki was taller. Sunoo clung to Jungwon’s arm. Jake looked like a ghost.

“The family is back together,” the doctor cheered as they all sat in the solarium together for the first time in months.

Rubied eyes stared at the doctor, silent.

“Let’s take a photograph to commemorate this!” a nurse chimed out.

There was only one nurse left now – they didn’t know where the second one went. Sitting together on a white draped sofa, the seven didn’t smile. They simply stared as the large contraption was set up on spindly metal legs. With a crack of a light bulb, the photograph was taken.

Their eyes looked eerily pale in the monochrome photo, like a dog’s at night. The doctor was the only one grinning ear to ear. A flicker of a fang was visible in Riki’s grimace.

Photographs of their mouths and eyes were taken that day, too. Sometimes Heeseung wonders if it was all for that from the start.

-

“We should leave,” Jay whispered one night.

The boys - no, they weren’t boys; they hadn’t been boys in a long time – they were men, teenagers with the tempers of children and the hunger of a monster – they sat inside Jungwon’s bedroom, a common gathering place solely due to the bright moon outside of his window. None of them had windows – too much of a risk. But, Jungwon had been such a good boy. Such a success.

Jungwon just simply knew what the nurses and doctor wanted. A doll. A research subject. So he was that, a scientific silent thing. But here he’d stroke his Sunoo’s head as he curled into his lap, still clinging to his bear. Here, Jungwon’s rubied eyes that stared blankly at dinners and breakfasts were round and empathetic as he nodded along with Jay. Here he was himself – as much of himself as he could be with the constant growl of the Beast in his ear.

“We need to get out of here.” He agreed.

“But what if—what if we need them?” A tentative voice asked.

It was a strange thing to feel – a need towards those who had harmed them. A double-edged sword. The experiments hadn’t stopped. The medicine hadn’t stopped. They were still being tested on despite their changes. But… this was all they knew. They’ve never went past the town, never breached past the tree-line. What if it was worse… alone?

Despite their hunger. Sunoo’s voice was fragile.

“We don’t need them,” Riki bit out, arms crossed. As the youngest, he was still the most volatile; Heeseung summed it up to teenage hormones.

There was a beat as a wave of calm settled over them like a cool mist from a forest, like the minty way your mouth felt after brushing them with toothpaste.

“Jay,” Jake whispered, half-scolding.

He knew it was him; Jake never felt so at peace nowadays, only when Jay manipulated the emotions of the room to his will. Jay flashed a bashful smile, red cheeked.

“We don’t need them,” Jungwon redirected the conversation, firmly.

“What could be worse?” Sunghoon bit out, eyes staring up at the moon. His head leaned against the window pane.

“Dying,” it was not said but thought. Each of the vampires could hear the voice of Heeseung echoing in the back of their minds like it was their own thought.

Riki shivered. “I hate when you do that,” he mumbled.

“Sorry,” Heeseung muttered. He didn’t know how to quite control it yet. His thoughts were like a stream connected to a river and that river to a larger ocean. Sometimes they flowed into others.

“Okay,” Jungwon huffed. Sunoo nuzzled into his arm sleepily. “Dying isn’t an option. We can’t.”

“We’ve been through all of this just to die?” Riki added, crossing his arms as he shifted his weight against the wall. “No way.”

“What if we are hungry…?” Sunoo asked.

When weren’t they? Even Jungwon struggled with his hunger, he had bitten his fair share of the remaining nurses. It was silent. What would they do?

“We can stock up before we leave,” Jay said, hand going through his hair as he tried to block out the ranging emotions around him. Excitement, nervousness, fear, anxiousness. It was making him sick to his stomach.

“And after?” Another asked.

“We’ll figure it out.” Sunghoon said, quietly. Optimistically. He raised a brow as he looked over the others. As the fledgling among them, the youngest in terms of whatever this curse was, he was most prone to outbursts for blood. If he could try, they could.

Heeseung looked at the room, once over. “We figure it out,” he agreed.

“Together.”

-

Their break-out wasn’t a simple thing planned in one night under a full moon. It took a month of planning. Of preparing. Stealing IV bags of blood when the nurse was busied – some of them causing problems, so they could grab more. They were hiding them in the glass fine china cabinet in the solarium; it had rested empty and covered by a white sheet for years now. No one checked there. When the cabinet was full, they began tucking the blood bags into pillows and mattresses they had gutted with the strange claws they realized they were starting to have. If they focused, they’d grow, thicken into incredibly sharp nails.

One night, Jungwon even hid some of the pills they were forced to swallow down – just in case – in a place no one would ever look. He was quick, grabbing all he could. Inhumanly fast, he looked this way and that – just waiting for the nurses to return. In his hurry, he grabbed other bottles strewn about that had unknown names - ferrous sulfate, calciferol, allium sativum, melatonin.

It was a cold November night when they planned to leave – but they didn’t know it; after all, experiments didn’t need to know the date, or the time, or the year.

They went off the moon. Each day a sliver of the moon grew and grew larger. It was supposed to be a full moon that night. Yet when the moon peeked around the tall trees outside Jungwon’s window, it was strange. Reddish, bright, bloody.

“It’s fate,” Sunghoon had whispered as they waited in the shadows of Jungwon’s bedroom.

A blood moon for the vampires.

With the doctor drugged, forced to drink down the mixture of pill Jungwon had found (Riki had dropped in his nightly tea like they were forced to down blood), they crept down the stairs.

It was quiet. The snores of the doctor echoed down the hall. Their feet dodged the creaking parts of the wooden floor. The vampires clung to belongings – tied up into makeshift sacks made of bedding. Thick winter coats covered their layers of clothes. Sunoo held his bear.

Heeseung’s voice rang out in their head.

“Sunghoon’s going to get the key.” It was whispered in their minds, almost as if he was afraid that he’d be heard even there.

It was in the doctor’s office.

They froze in the entry-way, the foyer feeling colder by the second despite their inability to feel the chill (really, even their layered clothes were just out of habit – weren’t they supposed to feel cold in winter?) Their breaths were low, dark eyes flickering between each other as they waited. Sunghoon wasn’t the quickest like Jungwon. But he had a sense to him, that was unlike any of them. Like warning bells were built into his head.

It was almost too easy. Until it wasn’t.

“Hey – what are you--?” the doctor cried out, shaken awake.

Were the pills a fluke? Riki’s eyes went wide, frightened at the sound. Sunoo grabbed onto Jay. There was the sound of fighting, grunts. A thunk against a wall.

Jungwon leaned forward, wanting to run to help but Heeseung’s hand reached out to stop him.

“I got it,” Sunghoon yelled out, the sound like a scream in the quiet silence.

He rushed out of the room; the wooden door slamming against the wall. A clambering of footsteps followed him.

“Get back here, you brat,” the doctor yelled.

Sunghoon felt more alive than ever. He ran fast. Riki stared down the doctor, shaking against the doorway. He wanted him to just stop, stop, stop. They had to get out of here.

To his surprise, the doctor did. He froze. Mid step, floating in the air. His sleep-hat caught in the air. Glasses askew. Not only did the doctor stop but so did his friends… no, his family. He glanced around. Jungwon was to his left, hand on the door knob, ready to unlock the door. Heeseung had grabbed Jake’s hand. Sunoo was curling towards Jay. Riki’s breath burned in his throat as he held onto it with all his might. He took a small nervous step… nothing else shifted. He was the only one to be able to step forward.

And he did. He walked over to Sunghoon. His hair was flopping mid-air, teeth bared, fangs sharp. His hand held the key tightly. With ease, Riki slipped it out of his blood-brother’s hand. Bounding over to the door, he turned the lock. There was a chill climbing up his spine, his breath electric in his lungs. Opening the door, he let out his held breath in a single gasp. With it, the world to come rushing to action. But there was no contest, no obstacle now. A door was open with the darkness outside pouring into the mansion.

The boys simple ran out the door, bewildered to how it was opened and unlocked. Sunghoon glanced at his hand for only a moment before ignoring the impossibility of the world and sprinting harder. He’d take the miracle. Maybe it was really fate. Fate for them to escape.

They broke past the tree-line, hooting and hollering as they continued to run and run and run. Away from the mansion and into their new lives.

The doctor huffed and puffed glaring out into the darkness, only made darker under the blood moon. Today’s experiment yielded a result – vampires were faster than a middle-aged man. He would find them one day. He would. The door of the mansion was shut behind a livid doctor with a heavy thud.