dadddybangtan

[dadddybangtan]

Lessons 1-5

Synopsis: Sylus takes you on a Camping Trip to satisfy his more…primal urges. Don’t worry, Sylus isn’t so mean after getting what he wants from you.

Warnings: Outdoor smex , breeding, holding in coom, Use of ‘Sweetie’ and ‘Princess’, PredatorxPrey quink, Sylus is a little meanie but he makes up for it!

Sylus loved the thrill of the chase. Even when his pretty Kitten was playing so hard to catch. Darting between the trees, scurrying around bushes. But she was far from quiet. Sylus had the chance to snatch her up multiple times. But where was the fun in that?

It was you who suggested the forest on the National Park for this hunt. Sylus suggested buying out the entire area for the weekend so he could have you all to himself.

But what would the fun in that be?

The sun sat in the sky as dusk looked over. Your eyes darted to the crack of a twig and you froze like a deer in headlights.

But it wasn’t your ferocious silver haired boyfriend, instead is was a cute little bunny.

“Aren’t you so cute?” You whisper with a giggle. But that giggle turned into a muffled cry of terror when a hand wrapped around your mouth from behind.

His hot breath tickled your ear as he whispered, "Found you, my little kitten." His free hand snaked around your waist, pulling you flush against his hard body. You could feel every ridge and muscle pressed against your back. His red eyes gleamed with amusement and excitement.

"Should've been quieter while you were admiring the bunny..." He nipped at your earlobe playfully, knowing it tickled you. His hand slowly slid down from your mouth, tracing a path along your collarbone. "Running through the woods in those cute little boots.”

You pulled your head away with a pout. “You’re no fair. I swear you can practically smell me, you big oaf.” You huff.

"Big oaf, huh?" He chuckled, releasing his hold on you and stepping back with a mock wounded expression. "And here I thought my tracking skills were impressive." He circled around to face you, his red eyes glinting mischievously in the fading light.

Sylus grasps the back of your neck, pushing your chest against the trunk of a pine tree.

His other hand moves to your waist, holding you pinned against the rough bark of the tree. His face inches closer to yours, his warm breath fanning over your lips as he speaks in a low, commanding tone. "Maybe I should just keep you trapped here until nightfall."

"You know... running from a predator like that only makes me want to chase more." His thumb traces small circles against your neck, making you very aware of how much stronger he is. "And I really do love catching my prey." He leans in closer, his lips almost brushing against your ear.

You try jerking from his hold, using your speed as an advantage but Sylus clicked his tongue with a chuckle.

"Ah ah ah..." He tightened his grip on your neck and waist, easily stopping your attempt at escape. His voice dropped lower, more dangerous now that he knew you were trying to get away again. "You can't run forever." His lips captured yours suddenly, silencing any further protests.

His rough fingers grasped the edge of your leggings, the very same pair that he had bought you because of the way they hugged your ass.

"And would you look at that... my little kitten dressed so perfectly for running." He grins against your lips, his hand sliding underneath your clothing to trace the curve of your lower back. His fingers trail downwards slowly, purposely taking his time. "Wasn't I right about these leggings?"

“Pervert.” You struggle under his grip but Sylus grows tired of your games, of your pathetic attempts of escape.

With a swift motion, he lifts you up and wraps your legs around his waist. His hands squeeze your backside possessively, the fabric of your leggings thin enough for him to feel every curve. "Keep struggling, little thing. See if I don't fuck you right here against this tree."

“Y-you wish.” Well. Shit. You should’ve known those words would be your undoing.

His eyes darkened dangerously. "Damn right. Here's your warning, Kitten. One more smart-ass comment like that..." His fingers dug into your backside harder. "And I will bend you over this tree and pound into you so hard the entire forest hears." His voice dropped dangerously low.

“You cheated.” Well, there was your last comment.

A cruel smile spread across his face. "Oh, you naughty little thing." In an instant, he turned you around and bent you over the tree trunk. He pushed your upper body down so your face pressed against the rough bark. "You just had to push me, didn't you?"

You struggle to find your words and balance. But his fingers find purchase in your hair.

"I think it's time I taught you a lesson." With his free hand, he roughly pulled down your leggings, exposing your bare backside to the cool forest air. His hand came down hard on your right cheek, leaving a red handprint. "First lesson: don't provoke a predator."

He ignored your plea, his hand coming down again on your left cheek this time. "Second lesson: when I give you a warning, you listen." His fingers dug into your hair tightly, keeping your face pressed against the tree as he continued to spank you firmly. Each slap echoed through the quiet forest.

After several more spanks, his hand moved to your core, rubbing roughly through your wetness. "And the third lesson..." He slid two fingers inside you without warning, pumping them in and out as he continued to spank your reddening bottom. "Is that I always win."

He leaned down, his breath hot against your ear. "You're so fucking wet, Kitten. Did you enjoy that?" He didn't wait for an answer, instead thrusting his fingers deeper inside you while his palm continued to spank your ass.

“N-no!” You deny, despite your wetness leaking down into the pile of leaves at your feet. “A-Asshole…”

He chuckles darkly, his fingers curling inside you to hit that sweet spot. "Such a dirty mouth on such a pretty little thing." He removes his fingers abruptly, making you whimper at the sudden loss. The sound makes him smirk. "Spread your legs wider, Kitten."

He doesn't wait for you to comply before kicking your legs apart himself. He unbuckles his belt and pulls down his pants, freeing his hard length. Without preamble, he grabs your hips and slams into you from behind, making you cry out as he fills you completely. "Lesson four..."

He starts pounding into you harshly, each thrust punishing and deep. "Lesson four is that when I fuck you, you take it like a good girl." His hand reaches around to cover your mouth to muffle your noises as he continues to ruthlessly claim your body against the tree. "Understand?"

You know better than to ignore his orders. “Y-yes!” You cry out, fingernails digging into the bark of the tree.

"That's my good girl..." He continues to fuck you hard and deep, his fingers occasionally slipping down to tease your clit. His other hand moves to your hair again, keeping your head pressed against the tree. The sound of their bodies meeting fills the forest as he takes you with wild abandon.

Sylus’ wild thrust has your knees weakening to the point he’s taking you from behind on all fours on the forest floor. You don’t care about the dirt on your knees or the leaves in your hair. Sylus is fully enjoying this animalistic ritual.

He growls low in his throat as he watches your body move beneath him. His grip tightens on your hips as he drives into you harder and faster. The forest seems to disappear around them as they get lost in their primal mating dance. Sylus leans forward slightly to bite your shoulder, sinking his teeth into your flesh.

With a final deep thrust and a groan against your neck, Sylus comes inside you. He stays buried deep for a moment before slowly pulling out, his release dripping down your thighs. He sits back on his heels, breathing heavily, looking at your disheveled state with satisfaction. "Lesson five..."

"When I cum inside you, you keep it there until I say otherwise." He watches as you stay on your hands and knees, his hot liquid leaking out of you onto the forest floor.

He watches with hooded eyes as his release slowly drips out of you despite your best efforts. He smirks and slowly reaches out to spread your cheeks apart, watching more of his seed escape onto the leaves. "Such a mess..." He murmurs, his faux coos making your chest tighten as you feel more cum dribble down your thighs

You reach back to cover your entrance, trying desperately to keep his semen inside with a broken sob. “I-I’m sorry…”

He catches your wrist before you can cover yourself, pulling your hand away. "Leave it." He says firmly, keeping your hand trapped behind your back. He reaches out with his other hand to spread your cheeks even wider, exposing your red, puffy, and thoroughly fucked hole to the cool air.

"Look at that little mess." He says mockingly, tapping your hole gently. You whimper at the sudden contact, feeling even more of his hot liquid spill out. "Pathetic little thing can't even keep my come inside." He laughs softly, shaking his head in amusement.

“You’re so mean to me…” you sniffle, despite knowing how much Sylus spoils you.

He laughs again at your pouting. "Sweetie, I could throw you on my bed, eat your pussy for hours, then cover you in kisses and call you my good girl. Yet here you are, knees full of dirt, covered in my jizz, complaining that I'm mean."

Sylus pays your head condescendingly, brushing your hair out of your drool covered chin.

"So tell me, my spoiled little princess, am I really that mean?" He leans forward slightly, letting go of your wrists so he can pinch your still-reddened bottom gently. Nightime has finally fell over the forest but his glowing red eyes nearly glow in the darkness

“Y-yeah.” You hiccup, your thighs shaking.

He chuckles darkly, his fingers moving from pinching your bottom to spreading you wide again. The cold air hits your sensitive flesh, making you shiver. "Prove it then." He commands softly, his thumb pressing against your used hole. "If I'm so mean, push me away."

"Come on, Kitten. If I'm really treating you so badly, fight me off." His thumb presses deeper, feeling his own release coating your insides. His other hand moves to your hair, gently tugging your head back so he can see your face in the moonlight. "Push. Me."

You weakly lift your hands and try to shove at his solid chest, but you’re thoroughly exhausted from the chase and your ruined insides.

He doesn't budge an inch from your weak shoves. He just smirks down at you, his thumb continuing to press into your hole, feeling your inner walls spasm weakly. "Pathetic." He murmurs, leaning down to press his lips to yours in a soft, gentle kiss.

The contrast between his soft kiss and the way he's treating you is stark. His tongue slides against yours gently, coaxing a soft whimper out of you. When he pulls back, he laughs softly. "Mean to you, huh?" Another soft kiss lands on your cheek.

He suddenly stands up, pulling you up with him by your hair. Your legs shake as they try to support your weight after being spread so wide for so long. Sylus throws you over his shoulder like a sack of potatoes, making you yelp as his semen spills out again.

“S-shit Sy!”

"Such a sweet princess like you shouldn't swear." He smacks your bare bottom playfully as he walks with you. He chuckles, carrying you back to the campsite.

This would be a long trip.

[dadddybangtan]

thinking about what porn sylus would watch when he's alone and needing a quick one.

the thing is, the porn he watches is of you.

of course he could just call you over and fuck you till you're senseless. but he's a busy man. he does have time to fit hours of sex into his schedule.

videos he's recorded on his phone are suddenly being played at his desk, one hand pumping his rock hard cock that's been lubed up with the spare bottle in the desk drawer.

to him, watching himself pound into your tight hole drives him mad, nearly makes his right eye flare with desire. the sound of your moans mingle with skin slapping on skin. he stares at your ass which he's marked beautifully with his large red hand print.

a part of him knows that this will never be enough to satiate him. later that night, you'd be bent over his desk and fucked silly because he'd never fully get soft after masturbating blatantly in his office.

he hears you moan his name from the phone, sounding desperate and broken. he leans his head back against the head of his chair and grunts, pumping his cock quickly with a needy grip.

oh, how he needs you. how he wants you.

precum dribbles out the tip of his cock, making his shaft even more slick. he grips his phone tightly, nearly shattering it under his vice.

when he cums, only a few ropes of cum spurt from his cock. they splatter on his hand and his pants. he knows he can cum more. but he actually needs you there with him to bring out the full extent of his pleasure.

with a resigned huff, he turns his phone off before he can get any further. he sighs, and looks at his hand and his ruined pants.

"what a hassle," he mumbles quietly, using his evol to clean up the mess he's made of himself.

though now he can't rid his mind of what he's going to do to you later that night.

[dadddybangtan]

ONE OF THE DAMNED GIRLS PT.1 (P.SH)

Moving to a city with wild nights and charming days felt like the perfect choice in your head upon finishing college. Hours away from home, you accept a job at a local museum ironically placed dead between a large historic cathedral and a booming gothic nightclub. You were meant to curate the art, not be curated yourself by a local priest who found you with buckled knees outside of said goth club. ��� part two here!! | MINORS DNI

PAIRING ― vampire park sunghoon x afab reader  

WORDCOUNT ― 20.4k

CONTENT ―  modern vampire sunghoon, cathedral/chapel settings, blasphemous behavior, false holy facades, the main vampire trope i use is the act of drinking blood, luring, and living forever, heavy manipulation and toxic behaviors, mentions of reader being alt/goth

SIDE CHARACTERS―  jungwon as your very very best friend who has an installation at the museum (you guys are attached at the hip), jay as the hot bisexual bartender at the goth club, some goth guy named balor 

!WARNINGS! ― dubious consent (due to the act of mind manipulation), hunting and playing victim, a lot of blood: blood sucking, wounds/puncturing, menstruation in a sexual light, manipulation, near-death experiences, fainting, talk of death, acts of mind control/luring 

NOTE ― here is part one of the first vampire fic i've ever felt compelled to write in my life. shout out to me, myself, and i for being entirely deranged and coming up with on a whim based on a song a lovely anon sent to me. this is semi-proof read, and does require two parts to get the full story.

tags under cut

smut tags [ these tags refer to both parts of the fic] ― big meat sunghoon, biting, A LOT OF BLOOD, sucking and drinking of blood obv, pussy eating (once while reader is menstruating, and another time where she isn’t), deep penetration, rough sex, unprotected sex bc like…he’s dead so lmfao, missionary, scratching, dirty talk, body worship, praise, jungwon is involved in a bit of an erotic situation but there is not smut involving him, 

other tags [ these tags refer to both parts of the fic]― depictions of death, anti-religious language, the act of dying including intense descriptions of the feeling, mentions of pimping and human trafficking, corrupt government, dead nuns, funerals

・・・・・・・・・・・・・・

Upon moving to this city, all you have in your mind is the future. Of what could possibly come of you here? The museum is truly beautiful, propped in the center of the historic district, a mere ten or so blocks from your newly renovated apartment. 

Years worth of study has led you here and honestly you’re sure you never would have found this city as lovable as it is if it weren’t for those credit hours you poured into art history and architecture. Truly, you feel at home here. Especially working within the historic district at that beautiful museum. 

The rest of the city is quite modern. A bit boring to look at if you’re being honest but, thankfully, your place of work offers much for the eye to devour. The museum itself is quite victorian, with rococo styling throughout. Many could call this an eye sore, but you find yourself loving every inch of the place. You feel like a willow wisp in the clutches of that museum, and honestly you’re more than excited to grow bored of seeing such beauty on a day to day basis. 

Across the street sits another old building, also victorian in style. The large and tacky sign glowing with neon lights that reads “AFTER LIFE” goes to show that it’s very clearly a club. And the attire of those who go to and fro through the doors only further proves that it’s more than just that. It’s a goth club. 

Which, arguably, high-school you would’ve died to be able to attend. Thankfully, that little goth girl inside of you still lives strong and surely the club will be a place you’ll frequent during your free time. It’s not too hard to dress the part considering you are an art loser. The majority of your clothing consists of black, colored hair, and wild make up anyway. All you gotta do is forego the ratty coveralls or the typical business quirky you go for at work and you’re good to go. 

Last but not least regarding the charm of the historic district, your favorite site. One that is so profound to you and likely everyone else who visits this town mostly because, well, there isn’t much mention of it on any website regarding the city. In fact, you weren’t aware that such a place existed here until the day you came to view your apartment for the first time. 

Seeing it loom from the apartment window very nearly had you sign the lease without so much as looking at the cabinet space or the bathroom setup. 

No, nothing in that historic district, absolutely nothing in this city, rivals that of the cathedral that towers above both the club and museum. 

There, parked just three blocks down from your place of work, sits the cathedral. Clearly old but well maintained, you can just tell that the building has seen more than enough through the passing decades. The arches are pointed and towering, and the flying buttresses only further your heart to beat with love and admiration for what men could build at one point in time. 

You’ll never understand why the preferred style these days consists of primary shapes, anyway. Boxes, cones, spheres. Never twisting hallways or nooks and crannies to hide in. You miss the depth of which buildings used to be. Inside practically a maze, outside a wondrous presentation of knife-sharp features. So intricate, so many lines to trace.

What a shame to find yourself living in a space that’s a mish-mash of perfect boxes, but it’s not so bad when the window offers a daydream, at least. 

You’re in love each time you gaze upon the building, actually. It’s a forever reminder that no human being on this earth could make you feel such excitement. Perhaps you’re just a nerd for gothic architecture though. Honestly, it’s a shame that this cathedral seems to be a forgotten gem despite how it’s blatantly visible at almost any view point in the city. 

Fortunately for you, this only goes to show that the historic district is just that. There for those who admire, and not for those who gawk. There seems to be rarely any stray humans making their way down this street without at least an inkling of interest in the ancient life that’s been breathed here. 

If anything, the streets are filled with what you can assume to be open-minded individuals. Your first day at work showed that much. Tattooed bodies, pierced faces, wild hair, even wilder attire. Yes, you feel right at home. 

And despite the excitement of living in a new city where you seem to fit like a puzzle piece, life can still grow boring after a certain amount of time has passed. For you, it’s taken about three weeks of training, well-slept nights, and cozy days. 

Even through the summer, the nights still have a chill in the air. Which is nice but even your night-time walks have become an auto-pilot task that offers nothing new to your forever hungry brain. So, with the weekend fast approaching, you figure there’s no better time than now to dust off those hot platform boots you bought on a whim years ago and have yet to wear. 

You’re going to the booming “after life”. 

・・・・・・・・・・・・・・

Well.

“After life” is certainly a perfect name for the club if the intensity of the drinks alone is anything to go by. Inside is adorned with stark black walls and silver trim, loads upon loads of purple and red curtains, women and men near-nude wrapped in straps and chains. 

It only took two drinks to see the black painted walls as a beautiful void in space with wonderful dancing bodies falling into it. You can’t stop smiling through the warmth in your cheeks and dancing to deep bass with husky voiced music. Your arms stay in the air as you dance, and you welcome any dancing partner up until your third drink. 

God, the drinks are strong. Or perhaps it’s just the specific drink you’ve grown partial to. One they call “Red Death”, which according to the handsome bartender, was quite popular in the 90s. You see exactly why it was so popular, considering it basically hit you like a fucking truck in the middle of this club and has you stumbling out the front door without so much as remembering why your feet are moving in the first place. 

Unsure of how much time has passed since you got here, you nearly forget the extra five inches under your feet as you stumble your way through the heavy doors in front of the club. A kind bouncer with the whites of his eyes tattooed helps you with your balance as you step out, chuckling and noting that you’re definitely new here.

His strong hold on you is kind and gentle compared to the bouncers outside of the clubs back home, and despite how drunk you are, you still feel as safe as you do inside of your own apartment when he gives you a small “woah there.”

Thankfully, he keeps to himself after helping you regain balance, once again unlike most bouncers at clubs. You’re left to your own drunken plans now as you wobble around the building in search of a bench to sit on and sober up. Thankfully, that very bench is found sitting lonely on the backside of the building. You can still hear the muffled music from inside, but you’re currently spinning and able to hear just about anything, you think. 

You hear your ass thump to the ground when you try to take a seat, missing the bench completely and falling a full two feet with your head hitting the bricked wall behind you. 

Honestly, all you can do is laugh at yourself as you hold your head. The fall didn’t hurt, and thank fuck no one is around to have witnessed that from you. To think your senses are enhanced at this moment is quite a feat, considering you were so focused on hearing everything that you completely forgot to determine which of the two benches in your drunken vision was the real one.

And as you accept your seat on the ground as the space you’ll sober up in, your senses prove yet again to at least be slightly more amplified than usual. 

A heavy scent of cinnamon wafts through your nose as you breathe in the brisk summer air and immediately you try to adjust your eyes to whatever the scent is coming from. Or, whoever.

Then, a cold hand on your shoulder. You didn’t even see him before smelling or feeling him, but somehow, your vision adjusts immediately as if you’re not drunk at all.

In fact, looking at the man is entirely sobering. 

“Child, temptation has you by the throat.”

“I’m no child.” You scoff at the voice reaching your ears, frustrated as you try to chase the fizzling drunk feeling. A waste of money, you could say, to lose the dizzy feeling so fucking fast. 

The man stands in front of you, clad in black, offering a gentle smile. 

You can imagine you look a mess, sitting on the ground outside of a night club, but that should be expected you’d think. 

“It’s a figure of speech.” The man shrugs with a chuckle. “Now, now. Allow me to help you, my dear, you are in no shape to be left to your own devices.”

You look up at him, noting that the man appears to be a priest. What kind of priest wanders around goth clubs this time of the night? 

Then again, you don’t even know what time it is. What you do know is that you’re nearly entirely sober now for some fucking reason, and you absolutely can be left to your own devices. 

“No, I’m fine. I don’t live too far.” You shake your head at him, but he pulls you up anyway. 

Oh, a rush of woozy nausea. Your ankles buckle immediately upon trying to stand and the man simply keeps his smile aimed at you. 

“My conscience will not allow me to leave you be.” He says, taking your arm and leading you further down the street.

You’re unsure as to why you don’t fight him on it now. There’s a feeling in your body that tells you to go with him, and who are you to fight it? 

Strangely enough, your eyes sparkle as he leads you straight to that very cathedral that floods your thoughts on most weekdays during work. So big, so beautiful, so otherworldly to see so closely. 

You stare up at the towering building even as he helps you through the doors, and then your eyes immediately adjust to the vaulted ceilings and darkened stained glass windows with only the moonlight shining through. 

God, it’s more beautiful inside. 

You’re entirely mesmerized by the building, blinking up at every inch of the walls and ceiling. It’s pristine inside compared to the outside, and the floors shine so beautifully even in the low-light. Your boots stomp with each step against the well-maintained floors, to the point you can feel the vibrations running from your toes to the top of your head. 

You can feel your skin tighten at the viewing experience, every hair on your body raising in euphoria, pupils growing wide and dark. You smile, feeling your face flush as if you’ve got a man between your legs. There is no man though though, no. Just big arches and echoed footsteps.

It’s simply too beautiful to comprehend with a semi-drunken brain for the first time. 

The man saunters through the building with you in tow a bit too quickly than you’d prefer though. You try to soak in the image of the main chapel before he leads you away from it, and thankfully you caught a decent look at the gold and silver adornments surrounding a centered altar. The figure within the altar didn’t quite get more than a glance, but you could have sworn it was no religious figure that you know the name of. 

And then, within three blinks, you’re in a corridor where whispering nuns look on. Their voices sound high-pitched even in a whisper but it slows your heart rate down to that of near sleep. Drowsiness overtakes you as you blink out of sync, barely able to comprehend that you should be at home rather than in this wondrous and magnificent building with a strange priest. 

Still, even as the corridor grows less and less extravagant, where the stomping of your boots on the floor turns to that of breaking up dust and weighing down creaking wood, you find it all the more beautiful behind your heavy-lidded eyes.

The deeper into the cathedral you go, the older it becomes. Where electricity turns to candles, and then candles turn to pure moonlight shining through stained glass windows. 

Even up the spiraling concrete stairs, you feel your feet carry you more than the priest with his back turned to you. He wouldn’t need to lead you through this building at all, as the feeling in your gut would likely have you explore the place inch by inch if you were given the permission. 

Still, even while your mind is sober but your body is drunk, you find it hard to believe that people still reside here. Never once seeing anyone come from the cathedral since being in this city. And trust, you have honestly stared at it day after day during work. 

That means nothing to you now though, considering you’re inside the building, being led to a small room for sleep where your sleepy eyes devour the small bed against the wall.

The man who led you here lends no more words or thoughts to you as he steps inside, presents the room to you, and then quickly leaves with that same smile he gave you outside of the club. 

A nun replaces him with light and silent footsteps, running past you to fluff the flattened pillow on the bed. Another came in behind her with a small bowl of crackers and a glass of water. She holds out the bowl and glass, urging you to take them from her. 

Naturally, you do. Popping a cracker into your mouth and instantly feeling it soak up any saliva in your mouth, leaving it feeling dry and sore before you sip the water. And with a nod from the two nuns, they leave you be. 

This room appears to be that for refuge, surely for those the church takes in when they’re in need of a warm bed and some food. 

You smile, saying nothing as you sit down on the bed and place the glass and bowl on the small ledge by the window. There, you take off your boots and flop back without so much as sinking under the thin covers, and you fall asleep as if there’s nowhere else on this earth you’d rather be. 

・・・・・・・・・・・・・・

The sun feels warm against your face when you stir from your slumber. Your eyes feel heavy though, so you simply lay here and breathe in the strange heavy air. Your eyebrows furrow at the feeling of the bed beneath you. Stiff, hard, uncomfortable. Clearly, you’re not at home. 

And, well, that’s when the happenings of last night dawn on you. You can barely comprehend what the helpful priest looked like, better yet how long it took for your feet to carry you to this room.

When you open your eyes and squint to look out of the stained window, most of the city is distorted through the tinted colors, but you can tell that you’re quite high up in the building. Then again, the throbbing in your feet could have probably told you that. 

Still, sitting in this bed now feels much more uncomfortable than it did when you initially laid down. Your head pounds as you pinch the bridge of your nose, squinting around the room and trying to grasp your memory. 

The only thing you remember is the cold hand that guided you here and every beautiful inch of the cathedral. Which can only mean, you have no fucking idea how to get out of here.

Oh, the horror and embarrassment of needing to search for someone to help you leave feels unfamiliar and uncomfortable. Surely, if you’re silent with your feet, you can search the halls until you manage to find a back door, right? At least the route would be scenic and interesting if you can manage it.

And, well, you do try. Searching for a staircase the moment you leave your room simply because you know that the only way home is down at least a hundred steps. Strangely enough, your instincts seem to know exactly where to go. 

Somehow.

Your socked feet carry you straight downstairs and to the main cathedral. You weren’t necessarily expecting to find a room full of people upon entering the space either. After all, if it were Sunday perhaps you’d have to drag your hungover ass past a crowd participating in Sunday mass. 

Despite never seeing a soul enter this cathedral save for yourself and that priest. 

Weird, there are a few people with bowed heads sitting in the pews of the main chapel. All appear to be clad in black and gold, one or two others with silver. Not entirely cloaked but still incredibly eerie from behind as you look on with each silent foot step. 

And suddenly, your body freezes. 

There, at the center of the altar stands a stoic man. Posture so straight you could argue he is nothing but an ancient statue. Behind him, you note that there is an actual statue of a figure standing much the same, far too distant to make out the face of. 

Only for a moment do you recall glancing at the statue from the night before, noting how it resembled no god nor deity that you’re aware of. It doesn’t even resemble a human the longer you stare at it, actually.

Ah. Yes. The vibes in this cathedral are off. From your feet somehow knowing the place as if it’s your own home to the silent chapel bowing their heads to an even more silent man standing frozen in the center. If at all, you feel like you’ve been caught in a photo, stuck with your feet on this single tile with the front doors just out of your reach. 

That is, until one of those whispering nuns makes her way to you, tapping your shoulder with a nod and a very quiet, “Shall I see you out?” 

And she does, opening the large doors for you and closing them behind you without so much as a sound. 

Strange, because you remember the echo of those doors closing from the night before. But whatever, you guess, as you’re assaulted with the bright afternoon sun forcing your eyes to tear up. 

You take a step through the flash-bang of summer air, slowly adjusting your eyesight to the very museum you work at. Bustling with your co-workers who are made to work this weekend, you try to avoid being seen. After all, as a new employee, the last thing you need is to be perceived as a hungover mess while walking out of that weird fucking cathedral with nothing more than socked feet and a pair of stompers held against your chest.

And so, you make the short trek home, thankful for the walkable city but entirely unthankful for the charming weather your realtor promised for this time of the year. It’s fresher than you’d like for it to be outside today, the warm sun keeping you at a perfect temperature while the cold breeze offers a shiver here and there. 

You’re not sure why it pisses you off. It’s probably the headache that only pounds harder and harder with each step you take. 

Finally, you make it to your apartment. You feel cold when you step inside the lobby and make your way up. Somehow you feel even colder when find yourself at the window, gazing at the same cathedral you just spent the night in, looking hazy in the afternoon sun. 

It looms there in the city, with its elder rooted walls and pointed arches. Still so beautiful, still so mysterious, still so fucking luring. 

Even after sleeping there, and even after you felt the vibrations inside skew your comfort, it stands out not only in the city, but in your brain. With the modern city only forcing it to stick out like a sore thumb, you can argue that the city could be just as old and still that cathedral would offer a shiver down your spine. 

Your head pulses at the sunlight shining through your window, forcing your eyes from the darkened haunt, and you’re quick to make your way to the kitchen to rummage for something to help with the headache. 

And by the time you flop down on your couch, you drift back to sleep, realizing that you’re not entirely sure if you slept at all the night before. Despite waking up, despite not remembering a thing from after you laid down, and despite feeling rejuvenated in every aspect aside from sleep. 

That rejuvenation strangely drains you more as you drift to sleep, finding it so unnatural that you willingly slept in a maze filled with no face you can put a name to.

・・・・・・・・・・・・・・

Making your first friend feels good. Weeks worth of pretending and hoping you and your co-workers would somehow become besties outside of the museum walls fell short, after all. Not that you don’t consider them friends, it’s more so just the fact that they’re all a bit too stoic and up-tight for you. 

You’re quite a bit younger as well. You can tell that they lost their spark for creating art years ago, if they ever even created it in the first place, anyway. It’s all just curating, curating, curating for them. An eye for beauty only, which is respected and appreciated but still, no eye for fun outside of these walls though. 

That’s where Jungwon comes in. A young artist with first-installation jitters dimpling his cheeks as he offers the smallest “hello” that you think you’ve ever heard from another person. 

He’s similar to you in the way he dresses. He works hard, amazing you with each piece of his collection that’s pulled from a tightly packed box, filled with bubble wrap and slammed with “FRAGILE” stickers. 

Arguably, you don’t need to be friends with your co-workers when you have artists like him coming in and out every few months. He’s quite lively, very excited, and almost clumsy in the way he carries himself. 

You were endeared with him the moment you met him and honestly just three days in, the two of you are practically attached at the hip as you push and work hard alongside him to set up the installation as perfectly as possible for the following weekend. 

And, well, the first showing went off without a hitch. His smiling face could have been seen for miles, you think, as you watch him mingle and blush at each compliment and critique of his work.

So bright. 

So full of life.

The exact person you’d want to be around. 

“Jungwon–” You elbow him in the side as he nods and shakes hands through each farewell while the museum comes to its close for the night. “It’s Friday.” You smile. 

He nods you off, paying close attention to each face that came to visit his work. And only when the halls are empty does he make his way back to you with a deep exhale and a loud, relieved groan. 

“Finally.” He huffs, blowing a strand of his hair up and into the air. “Just fifty nine more days to go.” 

You roll your eyes fondly at him already counting down until the two of you are scheduled to take down his work. 

“You do know you only need to be here for opening night, right?” You laugh.

“Well, yeah.” He shrugs. “But it’s my first installation, I worry some kid will come wipe his snotty nose all over my hard work.” 

You chuckle, he chuckles, and then you turn to face him. 

“So, it’s Friday.” 

He bounces on his feet. 

“Yeah, glad to see you seem to grasp the idea of fleeting time and whatnot.” He looks at you with a mischievous smile. “What about it?”

“We should go out. The club across the street has really strong drinks for half the price as most places.” 

You watch as Jungwon’s eyes shine when they flick behind you to glance out the window. Then his face falls, his eyebrow raises, and he tilts his head. 

“You do realize we’ve been here for like, eighteen hours straight, right?” 

You nod casually with a shrug.

“I live super close by, if we get tired, you can just crash on my couch.” 

He pretends like he thinks it over for more than two seconds before ultimately accepting the offer of fun. 

“Cool. Wanna meet me there in an hour? I should probably change and stuff first.” 

You eye over his outfit, and then give yourself a quick glance. 

“Good plan.” You smile, backing away and throwing your bag over your shoulder. “An hour. Be there.” 

You both nod in agreement and go your separate ways. Sleepy, but entirely willing to celebrate Jungwon’s huge accomplishment with drinks that have already proven to be too strong. 

The hour passes quickly, wearing that same pair of boots for a second time now that you have the perfect place and reason to stomp around in them. This time, you even go as far as darkening your lips and smearing your mascara just a smidge. After all, you’re definitely gonna get drunk and your makeup will be smeared by the end of the night regardless. 

You gasp upon seeing Jungwon’s chosen attire, offering him an “Ooooh” the second you walk up to him. He had been leaning against the front doors of the museum, as if he’s simply an on looker and not a working artist with a top-notch showcase within those walls. 

He lends you a matching “Ahhhh” upon seeing your chosen outfit. Both of you somehow match in a way that makes this appear more like a date night rather than friends getting drinks. Which is kind of cute and a welcomed idea if the two of you have one to many and accidentally start making out or something. 

It feels platonic enough to laugh off in the morning, anyway. And really, while his boots don’t lend him extra height, he stomps around in them much like you do your own. With his black knit sweater littered in frays and pulled yarn, and his hair intentionally messed up. 

“Wonnie,” You offer the nickname easily as you grab onto his arm and check the street for cars before beginning to cross. “I think some eyeliner could finish off your look.” You laugh as the two of you practically prance with heavy boots to the club. 

He smiles at the nickname, hiding his face only slightly in his sweater when he blinks back at you with sparkly eyes. 

“Really?” He smiles, dimples on full display for the tattooed bodies lined up outside, already checking out the artist. 

“Yeah, oh–” You huff, digging in your small shoulder bag. “I have some, let’s do the finishing touch.” 

And when the two of you stand at the back of the line, you do just that. Carefully holding his cheek in one hand and lining the lower lashes on his left eye. 

He doesn’t even close his eyes, and instead looks up into the night sky with that same dimple showing. Blinking every few seconds at the sensitivity, ignoring the fact that his eyes start to prickle at the feeling. 

“It tickles,” He chuckles in a hushed whisper, never having a friend be so close to his face like this before. “How do you manage to do this every day?”

“I guess you just get used to it after a while.” You focus on the way the darkened color brings his eye to seem more catty than it already was, taking your thumb and swiping the bottom lid to smear the charcoal makeup.

You note how innocent and shining his other eye looks compared. Nevertheless, you go to rest your hand on his other cheek now.

Just for a moment, his eyes flash down to look at you. So, so close to his face. Instantly, you lend him a pause and your own smile. 

“You’re blushing.” You laugh, holding your hand steady in wait as he shifts his weight to the other leg out of natural nervousness. 

“Sorry,” He whispers out, blinking frantically to prepare for his other eye to tickle. “I’m not used to being this close to someone.”

Ah, you don’t believe that for a second.

“Look up.” You instruct, already lining his other lashes. “Feels like I’m putting the finishing touches to a masterpiece.” You add in a lame chuckle, feeling a little flustered yourself the more you note how his eyes water at the tickle. They shine so pretty.

He laughs out at your comment, a hand shooting to your wrist as you smear the liner on him. Not to be intimate or anything, just simply to steady your hand more.

“I guess I am kinda the canvas like this, huh?” He comments, standing as still as he can while looking up at the moon. “Hey–”

“Hm?” You say, pulling your hand back now and doing the same with your thumb to smear the make up into perfection on his flawless little face. 

“What kind of gum is that?” He asks, blinking a few times before adjusting his eyes properly and pretending like he can’t feel the waxy substance caked on his lashes. 

“Just regular spearmint.” You give him a half smile. “Why, you want a piece?” 

He nods, mostly because if he had known you were going to get this close to his face, he probably would have already had some type of candy in his mouth.

Again, it’s not like he has feelings or anything. It’s just, well, it’s always intimate to have someone so close to you. In your space. Your bubble. No one ever gets that close unless they want to kiss. Or, he guesses, if they’re putting eyeliner on you. 

“You look really cute,” You comment now, stepping back after giving him a piece of gum and looking over how the smeared makeup really does complete his look. “Should’ve brought one of my chokers too. Now that, yeah.” 

“Huh?” He tilts his head as the two of you move up the line. “You’re really into this kind of scene aren’t you?”

You nod shyly. 

“Was a total mall goth back when I was a teenager. I would’ve stalked you around the mall if you looked like this back then, really. Totally my type.”

He lends a bashful blink and a half-hearted laugh, stuffing his hands into his pockets and looking to the ground. 

“Well, when I was a teenager I looked like the person who invented calculus.” 

“And now you’re just a little work of art, huh?” You continue the cringey art-jokes, mostly because you like the way he tries to pretend they’re funny rather than utterly horrifying. 

And he does smile at it, ears flowing with heat as he blushes. He probably wouldn’t feel so shy if it weren’t for the fact that he also heard compliments all day about his art. He’s a bit sensitive right now.

“I guess so.” He accepts your compliment like all the others, lifting his shoulder to his cheek with a squinted eye. It’s nice to feel like the world’s favorite person for a night, truly.

And the conversation is even easier from here on out. Albeit, a bit flirty but it stills platonic enough to where the two of you are just…in a comfortable little bubble surrounded by faces you don’t know. Perhaps playing the part of being two individuals who came to a club together rather than separately and alone. 

As the hours pass, there are several strangers approaching the two of you. Words of “need a third?” and “well aren’t you two just fucking perfect?” 

Jungwon basks in it, snickering quietly with you but never denying a single accusation. The two of you play along. Drinking, dancing, and then more drinking. Up until Jungwon decides he’s held his bladder long enough and is off in search of a bathroom while you make your way to the bar. 

For more drinks, of course. Not to hit on the bartender you met the first time you came here.

“Another red death?” The man with inky red hair smiles at you, already grabbing a glass and starting your drink. 

“Yes but, can I actually–” You pause, glancing at the other man behind the bar. 

Red haired man laughs knowingly with a nod and a side eye before pointing silently at his co-worker and raising a brow at you.

You nod back, dipping your face only slightly when you see him take two steps back and whisper to the man. 

Instantly, you feel a bit more shy over asking to be served by this guy but goddamn. His dark hair looks slightly damp when his eyes glance to you upon whatever is being whispered in his ear, probably from something spewing in his face after being shaken up, or perhaps from sweat. 

You try to avoid eye contact under the man’s gaze when he walks over and in front of you. Sharp jaw, silver chain, loose black t-shirt revealing equally as damp collar bones.

God. The shirt is sticking to him. 

“Babe, my eyes are up here.” He laughs, holding an empty cup and leaning on the bar towards you. “Had a little too much to drink again?” 

You nod, dazed by his dark eyes before immediately shaking your head. 

“Red death, please. Two of them.” 

The man nods with a knowing smile. 

“I saw that you came here with someone.” 

He’s flirting. Mostly for tips but it’s not like he hasn’t been known to take people home from work before so, wherever it goes is where it goes for him. 

“Jay, can you grab me the-” The red haired bartender says from behind, and Jay, presumably, hands him a bottle without so much as letting him finish the sentence. 

“He’s cute.” Jay continues talking to you, enjoying the way you don’t realize how you fold in on yourself. “Any reason as to why you asked me to make your drink?”

“Um, oh,” You were gonna be bold, but you feel Jungwon suddenly clinging to you from behind, eyeing the bartender just like you are. “I just think you make them better.” 

“Did he just say I’m cute?” Jungwon whispers behind your ear, watching the man’s hands as he makes the drinks with expert knowledge. 

“You’re both cute.” The bartender smirks, looking between both of you and then offering a wink. “This round is on me.” He adds, sliding both cups forward and brushing your hand just for a moment before turning his attention to someone else. 

Honestly, it’s like you and Jungwon are the same person at this moment when you grab your drinks and you turn to face each other. 

Both of you, bouncing on your feet with whispered squeals over the hot bartender including both of you in the compliment. 

“Oh my god.” You stare forward, tasting the drink and noting that there somehow seems to be more alcohol in this one. “He’s so–”

Jungwon nods to you excitedly, sipping his drink quickly before glancing behind you and meeting the eye of the bartender again. 

“He was just looking at your ass.” He comments, flipping his body to cling to your arm and now turning his back to Jay “You think he’s gonna check mine out too?”

You nod with a snicker, the song changing and the tempo instantly drowning your thoughts. 

“I love this song!” You shout with drunken glee, already making your way from the bar but keeping that little thought that hopefully, Jay will keep glancing at the two of you simply because it’s fun to be watched by a hottie. 

And Jungwon just goes with your flow. Dancing with sticky sweet lips, eyes glazed over from the music and mood. His makeup looks more beautiful now paired with strands of his hair sticking to his sweaty forehead. 

You don’t think you’ve ever seen dimples so fucking deep before, and it’s almost painful to remember his face without that smile plastered on it. 

“Wonnie,” You grab him by the shoulder and pull him against you, ignoring how his hair dips into your drink for a moment. “I think you’re my best friend.”

And the way he pulls back with a gasp, smiling wider? It shatters your heart just so it can grow larger. 

“I am?” He does a little bounce through his dance move, eyes shining in the strobe lights, flashes of red and purple shading his cheeks, only deepening those dimples. “Really?”

Never have you enjoyed spending time with someone like this. Never without crushing hard, never without wanting to take them home and fuck them until you can’t walk. Jungwon is different though. He really does feel like a long lost best friend, like the part of you that has been missing for far too long. 

The moment you met him, you clicked in a way that didn’t involve a dick or a hole. I mean, sure you’d probably fuck him for funsies but there’s really no point in it because you feel perfectly happy, perfectly fulfilled, just having him spend his free time with you. 

Surely when he has to travel back home, you’re going to cry. 

“Why do you have to live so far away?” You pause your dancing, making yourself sad at the thought that he will only be here for a few weeks. “Who am I gonna hang out with when you leave?”

Jungwon lends you a pouty sound, a coo, almost. 

“I only live an hour away.” He laughs, leaning forward and plastering his sweaty forehead to yours with a slurred shout so you can hear him clearly. “I’ll come see you all the time!” 

And with that, the mood seeps right back into your veins as the smile overtakes you. 

You dance with him, forehead to forehead for a long, long, while. Up until the club is so crowded with people that Jay couldn’t possibly be paying attention to anything other than making drinks, and you couldn’t possibly pay attention to anything other than the music vibrating the alcohol in your stomach. 

It’s almost suffocating, as you feel a pang in your chest of overheated anxiety. You breathe in, smelling the fifth piece of gum that Jungwon slipped from your pocket on his breath. You exhale, smelling your own sweet alcohol breath before pulling back and dragging Jungwon by the hand into the only corner not packed with people. 

“You okay?” Jungwon slurs as he sways in front of you, eyes trying their best to seem concerned. “You look like you might get sick.” 

You nod, feeling your mouth fill with warm saliva indicating that you should probably go to the bathroom now. 

“Okay, lets get you to-” 

You cut Jungwon off with an off balance sprint to the bathroom and somehow he keeps pace with you, gripping your shirt and refusing to lose you in the crowd. 

Unfortunately, as you press on your stomach to somehow hold down whatever is trying to come up, you notice how there’s a very long line for the bathroom. 

And it’s still suffocating in here. 

And your mouth tastes too sweet. And the music is too loud.

“Let’s go outside!” Jungwon shouts against your ear, vibrating your brain as he navigates you through the crowd himself, pressing you up against the front doors of the club before pushing you outside with him close behind.

The waft of breezy summer air instantly fills your lungs and your stomach settles at the space you have to yourself now. 

You stumble forward, making your way around the same concerned bouncer from before who only smiles at you and Jungwon struggling to find your footing. 

And, like the best friend you knew he became, he tries his best to be the sober friend right now. His voice wavers and crackers when he speaks, but his hands are firm on both of your shoulders as he presses you against the wall behind you. 

“Stay here.” Jungwon says with concern still in his voice. “I’m gonna run back in and get us some water, okay?” 

And you nod in a daze as your eyes follow him when he disappears back inside. You note how he says something to the bouncer before opening the doors, and surely he simply asked that the guy keep an eye on you. 

“You should probably eat something soon, sweetheart.” The kind bouncer comments to you in the night air, stepping closer to you and standing just against the wall next to you.

You feel protected by him, so there are no alarm bells ringing. 

“You know I can’t let you back in, right?” He chuckles as he speaks to you calmly. 

“Oh, I bet.” You laugh, breathing in the air again and again, still not regretting the fun you’ve had for the past few hours. “Just gonna sit here and wait for Wonnie, he’ll help me get home.”

“Good, good.” The bouncer confirms your words, still standing protective next to you when you hear the doors fly open and a few seconds of booming music before it’s muffled again. 

Jungwon flops down in front of you on the sidewalk now, two water bottles in hand with a smile on his face. 

“Jay gave me these.” He smiles. “He said if we can handle waiting til closing time he can drive us home.”

You laugh sheepishly. Unfortunately, you’re a bit too drunk and you know you probably wont make it another hour and a half with an additional however much time it’ll take for him to close up the club before needing to pass the fuck out. 

“I think I’ll have to take him up on that next time.” You slur your words. “You’ll help me walk home right, Wonnie? It’s a short walk.” 

Jungwon nods, still doing his best to act as sober as he can, but the bouncer shuts him down fast.

“Oh, I don’t think so buddy.” The bouncer laughs. “You’re both fucked out of your mind.” 

You laugh, Jungwon laughs, and the bouncer throws in his own hearty sigh. 

“Fuck–” You have a sudden, sober thought. “The tab. Jungwon, did we pay the tab?”

He pauses, eyes widening. 

“Shit.” He explains before jumping up on unsteady feet. “Can you help her call for a ride?” He slurs out at the bouncer, only disappearing inside again when the kind goth nods at the request.

And as you sit here in the silence after the bouncer helps you order a ride, a few minutes pass. Your eyes are out of focus as you stare up into the night sky before closing them. 

You could fall asleep right here on the sidewalk if you’re not careful. 

Another few minutes pass, now a loud slam of the doors rings in your tired ears now and you jolt out of the drowsy state, opening your eyes thinking you’ll find Jungwon rushing to you but instead, you note how suddenly you’re entirely alone. 

You don’t know how long you’ve sat here, or where the bouncer went, better yet why Jungwon isn’t back yet but what you do know is that suddenly, you’re mind is sober and fucking assaulted by the smell of cinnamon.

You glance around, trying to focus on the scent and where it’s coming from when– oh.

There, walking down the sidewalk is that fucking priest from before. Tall, clad yet again in black clothes, and he simply pauses his step in front of you. 

“Again?” The man calls out to you with an amused voice, lending you his hand, but you don’t take it. 

Instead, the doors suddenly fly open and Jungwon stumbles out again, nearly tripping over his own feet with an apology of “sorry, jay was trying to convince us to–”

“Uh, hi?” Jungwon interrupts himself as he takes note of the man standing in front of you. “The fuck are you?” He checks the man out, not quite able to focus on him in full.

The priest nods his head at both of you, staring Jungwon up and down before landing his eyes back on you. 

“Get her home safe.” He says nothing else before continuing his nightly stroll. 

And, well, you do get home safe. 

You and Jungwon are a mess of limbs in the short ride to your apartment, and an even messier pile of idiots by the time you make it inside. The couch is long forgotten by the time you close your front door, feeling Jungwon follow you all the way to your plush bed with drunken groans and giggles.

There, you flop onto the bed fully clothed without so much as a happy “goodnight” and you’re both drifting off to sleep. Jungwon’s heavy limbs are thrown on you as he loosely spoons you. Like he’s still trying to take care of you despite the fact that you no longer feel sick, and you’re both perfectly safe behind your apartment walls. 

・・・・・・・・・・・・・・

Have you no shame? 

Fuck no. 

What about Jungwon? Nah.

Both of you have a pep in your step by the next Friday, waiting for the museum to close so Jungwon can walk home with you and get all dressed up and ready for another fall into the infamous “after life”.

“We should try to stay until closing, maybe Jay will bring us home this time.” Jungwon wiggles his eyebrows as you put his eyeliner on for him again. 

“We’re gonna have to look real good then, yeah?” You smile at his pretty smeared eyes, reaching your hand up and ruffling his hair.

And you do. Both of you dress up in the darkest, blackest, sexiest fit you can find in your closet. Jungwon is sporting one of your pretty, sheer lace undershirts beneath his own unbuttoned black cardigan, pants tight and low on his waist. 

You, with another semi-transparent shirt. Sheer, showing all the goods if you hadn’t put on a nice fitting bralette under it. Cute skirt that shows your thighs, the stompers, of course. 

And the finishing touch this time? Matching chokers. 

“Cute.” You comment, leaning forward and popping a minty kiss to the tip of Jungwon’s nose. 

“You too.” He smiles, pinching your waist before turning to face your vanity mirror and checking himself out. 

Cute is right. Jay’s probably gonna fall to the floor when he gets a look at the two of you. 

And, well. The night is a blur. 

Jay does, in fact, eye the two of you with that sharp smirk like he did last weekend but you, unfortunately, drink far too much yet again. 

Jungwon slowed down a bit towards midnight but he kept an eye on you for the most part. Trying to secure the ride for both of you by orbiting around the bar and making flirty talk with both bartenders when time allowed it. 

You stayed on the dance floor through it. Sometimes dancing with Jungwon when he comes up behind you with clingy hands and updates on the Jay situation, but after a few songs he’d wander off again. 

It’s nice, kind of. Having someone with you that can maintain control through your own drunken stupidity. You don’t mind dancing alone, after all, you’re not entirely alone giving the pretty men and girls who come by to dance with you every other song when Jungwon isn’t around.

And of course, around the same time as last time, you find your mind feeling suffocated by the time the club is at capacity. 

You sway on the dance floor in search of Jungwon, unsure of which way the bar is because your eyes simply can’t adjust to the darkness and flashing lights by this point. 

Dimples. You need to find the sunshine face in this void of darkness. 

And you search. 

And search. 

Until you’re stumbling out the front doors alone, knowing that if Jungwon is looking for you, he’ll probably know you stepped out to breathe at some point. 

Just like the week before, the crip summer air outside instantly settles your stomach and breathing comes easier. You feel more sober than you thought you were as you sit here, making small talk with the bouncer who finally introduces himself to you. 

“That’s a good name for a big goth teddy bear.” You mock the man. “Balor.”

“In the flesh.” The man waves you off. 

And then, suddenly, the bouncer is stepping closer to you with a stiffened shoulder, the air outside shifting to something else for him, but you’re completely unaware of it. 

“I need to step inside for a moment, will you be alright for a few minutes?” He knows he shouldn’t step inside, but in all fairness, it’s kind of the protocol at this point. 

Considering that man has made himself very clear that if he’s near the club at all, it’s for good reason and he’s not to be interrupted. At least, that’s what code is for the bouncers here at this club. 

It’s a shame though, to know he has to leave you to the night. You’re a fun girl, peppy and sweet, not rude or hard to make small talk with on the long nights of work. Maybe you drink a little too much, but still. It’s not like the bouncer knows why he is to leave the sidewalk when a certain someone wanders by. What he does know is that more often than not, he’ll sink away inside only to resume his position alone, with no one left on the sidewalk.

Probably just a pimp. 

Or human trafficking. 

He isn’t sure, but time and time again he has been told to leave it be. That it’s nothing wretched. That it’s simply a territory that isn’t their own. 

Still, you nod to the bouncer. 

“If you see Wonnie, can you scold him for letting me get lost?” 

You miss the look of concern on the bouncer’s face. 

“Hey, come back inside, I’ll help you find him.”

“Oh, hello again.” A voice echoes from around the corner, causing the bouncer’s shoulders to fall as he immediately offers you a small “I'll find him–” before disappearing behind the heavy doors with haste. 

And then, cinnamon. The spicy scent wafting through you so fast that you’re almost dizzy. 

More dizzy than you already were, anyway.

“Have you learned nothing?” The priest walks up to you, chuckling and raising his eyebrows. 

“Weird ass priest.” You say, paying no mind to the happenings of just now, totally unaware of the energy surrounding you.

“And to what god do you believe I pray?” He tilts his head as he stands in front of you, hands behind his back, leaning down at the waist to position his face in front of yours. 

The question makes you look up at him with a skewed brow. 

“The usual one?” You ask, rolling your eyes at the silly meeting. 

Again.

A third meeting. 

“Ah, the usual one.” He mocks, nodding his head before standing back up and towering over you. “Do you seek him out?” 

You nod momentarily, having never been religious but at this moment, as drunk as you are and as alone as you feel with this strange man, only god could answer your curious question as to why you keep meeting him. 

As to why you’re always all on your own when he appears. 

As to why he forces a hope in your mind that god is really out there, and he’ll protect you when the bouncer isn’t here.

“Was that a nod?” He smiles at you, landing a cold hand on your shoulder. 

“Yes,” You whisper out, feeling heavy and more and more dizzy by the moment. Not from the alcohol but from something else. “Do you know where I can find him?” 

Your voice calls out on its own to him. You don’t recall wanting to ask him that, nor do you recall even thinking those words before saying them.

“He’s right here, love–” The priest pulls back, presenting the space in front of him before turning his hands inward and presenting himself to you. “I am God.”

You freeze, a rush of cold running through your veins. Surely you’re hearing him wrong despite that voice echoing those words in your head three, four, five, six times. 

“Isn’t that considered blasphemy?” You try to play it off in a joke, hiding the chill down your spine. 

Pretending you’re not interested. 

Wondering why it is that you are, actually. 

“Perhaps on any other street.” He confirms for you, now crouching down and showing his face plainly to you. “Do you keep secrets?” 

Your body nods before you can think to do it yourself, and you narrow your eyes for a moment at him. He’s…insane looking. Unnaturally flawless. Like those little speckles of moles on his face were placed with perfected intention. 

You’re mesmerized as he looks at you, eyes glancing to each part of your face, watching your expression change and fall, then rise and– he chuckles fondly, deeply. 

“I believe you.”

Why do you feel proud of that?

“Come back with me, yes?” 

There’s a long pause as you fight to think for yourself. If Jungwon were here with you right now, surely you’d be more grounded than you feel right now. Surely, you’d be having a heated conversation involving some sort of shared fantasy over that bartender. 

What was his name again? 

J…J-

Your eyes adjust to the face in front of you as you lose your train of thought. Something inside of you pulls. You can’t tell if it’s your heart or your thoughts but it appears to be instinctual when you replay his invitation in your head. On any other night, with any other man, you’d say no. 

Under these circumstances alone, you should be running away. 

This man. Dressed as a holy priest, walking to and fro from what you assume to be his home within that unnatural cathedral, presenting himself as god.

You should stand up and disappear into a crowd of rowdy dancers. 

You should find Jungwon and cling to him. 

You should push him away, and you should be recoiling by his cold hand that brushes your cheek. His voice shouldn’t feel so good in your ears. Like a siren, something inside of you doesn’t want you to run. 

“Temptation has you by the throat, my dear.” He smiles as his hand brushes your warm cheek again and again. “You seem rather fond of the feeling.” 

And now he flashes his teeth to you. Glistening brighter than the moon, he appears all but natural to you at this moment when you spiral internally at how fucking beautiful he is. Surely this guy is just a turbo goth that truly lives the life. Probably gives his heart to satan and only fucks during a full moon. 

And oh, wouldn’t you know.

You glance up at the sky again, the moon full and nearly pulsing in the sky like it’s a living being itself. Then your eyes fall back to the priest, his smile still present. 

A weirdo. A freak.

But…aren’t you too?

You barely feel yourself stand up and take a step forward under his arm. You follow the scent of him if nothing else. Heavy in your nose, like a hidden treasure cloaked by the darkened fabric draping over his body.

You want to smell it deeper. Maybe if he were to take off those clothes you could–

“By the throat.” He mumbles quietly as he leads you away from the club. 

Away from familiarity. Away from Jungwon. Away from the public.

There, straight back to that damned cathedral.

You’re more unnerved this time though, because the moment you step through the doors, you cannot, for the life of you, recall what you were supposed to be doing. 

・・・・・・・・・・・・・・

Waking up with a weight on your side, you smile at the feeling of what you assume to be Jungwon next to you. As you lay here, not quite comprehending what happened in the blur of the night before, you start to take note of something. Color. 

The light behind your closed eyelids don’t match the yellow-white light of the sun shining through your bedroom window. No, you’re seeing colors. 

Blue, red, green– 

“Wonnie?” You call out, squinting your eyes open, not quite processing the room before you feel a pit in your stomach. “Wonnie?”

Holy shit. 

You thought it was a dream.

You thought coming back to this cathedral was nothing more than a drunken dream. That the weight on your side was more than just a misplaced pillow. 

And as you lay here in a room that isn’t yours, and most certainly a different room compared to the one you slept in previously here, you try to think. 

Was it not a dream? 

The way the priest held you close and inhaled you? The way he put you to bed and left you here in the darkness? The way you– oh. 

This feeling in your chest, pulling, pushing, weighing so heavy. Something inside of you wants to see him despite your uncomfortable awakening. No, you need to see him. This feeling, you know now, only becomes more aggressive when he’s near too. Which can only mean he isn’t far outside of this room. 

You think hard about him and what you can remember outside of the blur in your head. He’s attractive. His face is otherworldly, with eyes so dark you hate that you can very nearly see yourself floating in them. 

The image of his face sits clearly in your hungover brain as you try to think. The feeling of his cold skin against your face, his lips, his…

Red.

Panic washes over you when you jump out of bed, ignoring the head rush and the way you immediately topple over and onto the floor. You need to go home, you need to find Jungwon and make sure he made it somewhere safe last night. You need to find your phone, and your…purse? 

Your shoes?

Where the fuck are your things?

You plant your hands against the cold wooden floors, staring straight down as you try to think. Still, nothing comes but blurry images of the club and then solid images of Sunghoon flashing like still photographs behind your eyes.

Are you losing your goddamn mind? 

Finally, you take a deep breath and stand on your feet, rushing for the door and expecting it to open easily, just like last time. But no. It’s locked. You’re fucking locked in. Which is– fuck, you can’t think straight. And while you still recognize that you’re not expected at work today, surely Jungown is worried, right?

He’s probably looking for you. Hell, with the way his nerves get to him, you wouldn’t be surprised to know he’s plastered posters all over the city looking for you. 

He’s definitely looking for you. 

Fortunately though, only a few minutes of pure panic pass when you hear the door unlock and a pale-eyed nun opens the door for you. She instantly sees the fear in your eyes when you take a timid step back. 

“Oh, you poor dear–” She coos out, lifting her brows in pity. “Do you not remember?” 

You hear her sympathy, feeling your body shiver with relief at her safe and calm voice. Looking up at her, she can already see the question in your eyes. The need for an explanation. 

“You did request that I lock the door for you. You were just simply petrified when–”

You gasp at her choice of words, not remembering a single bit of fear from the night before. 

“Petrified?” You whisper carefully, wrapping your arms around yourself and nervously looking around the room. 

The shrouded woman purses her lips, glancing away from you. 

“I do believe Master Sunghoon startled you. He meant no harm, my dear.” She tries to calm your nerves, but the information only stiffens your shoulders more. 

“Master?” You question with hesitation. “Do you mean Father? Reverend?” 

“Oh.” She purses her lips tighter now, a small smile breaking out at the corners of her lips. “It’s worse than I thought. Please, come with me.” 

You shake your head, backing yourself up against the wall. 

“It’ll only be a minute,” She waves her hand for you to come. “You’re not in danger, I assure you.” 

And as you stand here, knowing that you likely have no choice but to follow her, you hope that her words indicating no danger are truthful. You kind of need them to be, after all. 

“Come now, dear.” 

Reluctantly, you follow her. 

All the way up a too-dark spiral staircase, down two long and dark hallways with vaulted ceilings, and upon rounding a corner, you smell it and you fucking feel a tug in your chest. One that drives you to walk a bit faster, nearly in front of the nun as your feet carry you to where you feel you’re supposed to be. 

She chuckles when you reach the large double doors before she does, dipping her head at you before seemingly gliding back down the hallway in silence. 

Before you can even knock on the doors, they open with a rush of air hitting you square in your face. It nearly knocks the breath out of you at first, but you inhale deeply the same scent of cinnamon before your breath is actually caught in your throat. 

There stands the priest. Or god…or whatever he is. 

“Terrified.” He clicks a knowing tongue at you, stepping to the side to invite you into the extravagant room. “Just when I thought I had you too.” 

You stand in silence in front of him after stepping inside, that tug in your chest trying to pull you directly against the man. Still, you refrain with furrowed brows as you remain silent.

“And yet, here you stand.” He softens his frustrated voice, leaning comfortably against a wooden desk behind him. “The human brain truly is fascinating.” 

“Human brain.” You repeat his words to him in an attempt to process them.

“Yes, of course. Yours in particular.” The priest, in his night clothes of a loosened white shirt and long pants makes his way to a bookcase. You watch his slender fingers pull a ratty old book out before he flip through the pages. “I’ve heard about people like you.” 

You pause as you watch him push a pair of gold-trimmed glasses up the bridge of his nose, a memory flooding to the forefront of your mind as you recall last night to your best ability. 

Again, red. 

“I used to be like you.” He just talks, offering no context but keeping his sharp gaze on you despite having the book open in his hands. 

You find yourself nodding as you listen, feeling your hand raise to your heart as you try to ignore the way the priest, Sunghoon, takes a deep inhale. 

There’s nothing that follows his inhale. He doesn’t release that breath as he stares at you and instead just…smirks.

“Last night, you believed me to be god.” He smiles wider now. “You stood in that very spot and undressed  yourself.” He takes a step closer to you now, tilting his head with his words. “Do you know what you did next?” 

A shaky breath leaves your lips and a shiver runs through you again and again as you shake your head at him. Forgetting just for a moment how to speak. 

“You got on your knees and you prayed.”

You drink the thick air in the room like a glass of wine, swallowing harshly, struggling to maintain any type of steady heart beat. You feel allured, aroused, mesmerized, embarrassed. 

“What–” Inhale. “Did I pray for?” 

Exhale. 

“Me.” 

Inhale.

Within a split second all the memories come crashing through your skull. Rattling images of that very instance where you were on your knees, right here, fucking praying. Your hand instinctively shoots up to your neck, and there, you feel the drainage points. Two small pricks, just like in all of those movies you watched growing up. Sore, swollen, hot to the touch. 

Well, goddamn. 

There goes your balance. Your eyes start to blur and you feel yourself fall. Only, you don’t. You can’t when you hear him drop the book to the floor and feel his cold body shoot up and against you to hold you up. 

He says nothing at first as he looks down at you, and you couldn’t say anything if you wanted to. You look up at him in a daze, trying to focus, trying to think, but all you can process is the way he inhales again, deeply.

“You ran.” He whispers to you, studying your face and the way your body went from limp to almost holding up on its own in a shorter time than he expected. So strong, you are. Such a fighter.

He inhales again, seemingly drowning in the smell of you before rolling his eyes up and closing them just for a moment. Then, he groans before looking back down at you with eyes almost as dazed as yours.

“You didn’t run away, though.” He adds.

Even as he releases his hold on you, he smiles and inches his face closer and closer to yours. Almost as if he’s making an attempt to stare straight through you. 

“I wouldn’t have stopped you, love.” 

Your body feels weak as you soak in the truth of last night, your lips instinctively wanting to kiss him. No longer do you feel the need to run away, or to find Jungwon. You’re no longer afraid, even. 

Words can’t explain how you feel right now.

“Why didn’t you leave?” 

You have no answers for him when you hum out as a response. In fact, you’re not sure if you’ve ever had the ability to answer questions in the first place. 

All you feel is euphoria as he continues to talk to you, sweetly smiling and lowering his voice to something that drips like thick syrup down the walls of your brain. 

“I can trust you’ll be back then?” He hovers his lips over yours, watching you pucker them for him before backing away with another deep inhale of your scent. “Or would you rather I come pick you up from the vomit-covered sidewalk again?”

You find yourself laughing at that, smiling as you blink at him. 

God, he’s so charming. 

・・・・・・・・・・・・・・

Sunghoon had shoo’d you away shortly after, and you managed to make it home in a daze of sunlight and uncanny admiration.

You’re not sure if you can ever feel normal again after that. In fact, you’re quite dissociated and disconnected to the world until you find Jungwon slumped at the entrance of your apartment, sound asleep. 

Like a guiding light, his presence grounds you so fast that you feel more dizzy than you did in Sunghoon’s arms. Like your spirit is slammed back into your body and reality is hitting you again. You crouch down in a rush with light taps to Jungwon’s face, those bright eyes widening the moment he realizes that you’re here. 

“Where were you?”  He whispered drowsily, his dry throat forcing his voice to crack as he shifts his body comfortably against your door. 

Immediately, your face is apologetic and your voice is soothing in repeated apologies. 

“I’m sorry, Wonnie–” You hiccup, nearly wanting to cry. “I ended up going home with someone, I didn’t mean to leave you there alone.” You continue, pushing your hands under his arms and hoisting him up to stand. “I’m sorry.” You continue, and continue. “I should have left my keys with you, or–”

“Hey,” He whispers sweetly, finally standing on his own and stretching his arms out with an even drier sound. “It’s okay, you’re the one who missed out.” 

You tilt your head in question as you reach for your shoulder bag, the one Sunghoon had tucked within his desk drawer, and pull out your keys. 

“Oh?” You smile at his lack of care, but part of you kind of shatters at it. 

What if you really needed help? How long would it have taken Jungwon to see the red flags? Then again, how long is it going to take for you to see the red flags?

“Oh yeah.” He nods to you, rubbing the sleep out of his eyes as you push open your door and push him inside. “Jay brought me here, he stayed for a little while, even offered to bring me back to his place.”

You’re a little jealous. You did miss out, it seems. Still, you feel…fond of what you went through last night. Despite the feeling of rot within you when you think about it. Knowing it’s weird. Strange. Unnatural.

A vampire? Really? Surely not. 

“Why didn’t you go home with him?” You ask, making your way to your room right behind Jungwon, paying no mind to him as you undress and throw on a t-shirt. “Why’d you sleep at my door?” 

Jungwon shrugs, now taking his own outfit off while rummaging through your closet for a shirt you probably got from an ex boyfriend. 

“Well,” He looks at you now, really looks at you. “I’m fine if you wanna go home with people but I was a little worried, wanted to make sure you’d actually make it home.”

You pause as you dress yourself for a second sleep, feeling something in your chest flutter out of you at his worry. So he did see the color red. 

Not as brightly as you did, but he still saw it. 

“I really am sorry.” You furrow your brows as you watch him put that over-sized shirt on and lay on your bed. “I promise, I won’t do that again.” 

“You’d better not.” He chuckles, blinking at you and waiting for you to come lay with him. 

“Let me go get us some water first, I think we have a lot to sleep off.” 

He nods happily to you, only one dimple peeking out at you when you turn to head for the kitchen.

And after that, it’s nice. Not much sleep happened though, mostly just a lot of water chugging and pillow talk before Jungwon shifts with a gasp.

“What the fuck is that?” He bolts up, hovering over you and practically pinning you to the bed as he forces your face to the side. 

You know exactly what he’s looking at and explaining it isn’t the hardest thing in the world. After all, you were very drunk last night. So drunk that you’re sure you woke up today still drunk. 

A vampire? Hah. There’s no way. You were right to think Sunghoon is just like, really goth. Embarrassingly so. Probably thinks he’s a vampire lord or something. 

That pull in your chest? The inhales with no exhales? 

It’s all an act and, well, you’re kinda into it if you’re being honest, being hunted and all. The dude is hot as hell, and you don’t mind exploring a little bit of his world. 

“Well…” You trail off, lending your looming friend with the smeared eyes an embarrassed smile. 

“Those look deep.” His voice drips in concern as he keeps your face turned. “Did it hurt?”

You feel his fingers touching the two puncture wounds. Gentle, warm fingers. They pulse at the touch and sting when he pulls them away to let you turn your face back to him.

“To be honest, I don’t remember feeling it.” You think he’d probably panic if you told the truth right now. About how you were clearly too drunk when it happened. About how you prayed to a man only for him to pierce your neck and drink you up like you did to the drinks just hours prior. You aren’t even sure if you had sex with the guy.

To you though, sober or not, you probably would have still left with Sunghoon last night. With that flawless skin and those dark eyes. Sober or not, if he’s into biting and blood, you’re into it too. More than willing to play his victim. 

The fact that you were probably far too drunk at the time doesn’t bother you much because even now, with a grasp on reality, you’d like to think you’d let him do it again. If anything, just to feed your own curiosity.

“Wow, you really are into some freaky stuff–” Jungwon comments playfully, rolling back off of you and then taking a breath. “Make sure you clean them. Who knows where the mouth that did it has been.”

All smiles when you’re with Jungwon, honestly. So much comfort and concern, so much laughing and safety. If it weren’t for him, you honestly wouldn’t know how you’d be feeling right now. And it’s nice knowing that he opts to sleep over with you again. Seemingly preferring your apartment over the home he dropped a hefty wad of cash on for a two month stay. 

The feeling of having a best friend swells inside of you with each passing day, and his presence here allows you to go to work and sleep through the night without much more thought to Sunghoon. You love this city and you love the little artist that found himself at your doorstep even more. 

Hopefully he meant it when he said he’d come visit you all the time once his time here is over. Unlike you, who changed your mind the moment you saw Jungwon asleep at your door. 

“I can trust you’ll be back then? Or would you rather I come pick you up from the vomit-covered sidewalk again?” Sunghoon had said to you. You remember it despite the state of your mind at the time, and you also remember nodding to him. 

He seemed satisfied with your confirmation, yet since then you’ve felt no push or pull. No need to have him sucking on your neck or making you feel like he’s a demon wearing the skin of an angel. 

Perhaps you’ll just need to be sure you don’t find yourself drunk and alone on the sidewalk again.

・・・・・・・・・・・・・・

By mid-week, Jungwon looks sad to know he needs to go back to his respective space for a little while. Not because he wants to, and not even because you want him to. 

It’s simply because you need to be alone. You’ve always needed to be in your own space when this happens anyway. 

Month after month after month. For years and years. 

It never gets comfortable and you’ll never understand why you’re fated to hurt so badly every twenty two days. 

Going to work is already difficult enough, bloated in your quirky outfits and smiling through the twisting knots in your gut. Having Jungwon in your space when you very nearly want to strangle every person who asks you how your day has been would only lead to more owed apologies. 

“It’s not forever, Wonnie.” You genuinely smile through the pain at his narrowed eyes. “Don’t be so dramatic.” 

“Oh, I’m being dramatic?” He throws his arms up and motions at you. “You just told me you need a few days to bleed out on your kitchen floor.” 

“Well, yeah...” You laugh and he frowns. 

“I have a sister, you know.” He rolls his eyes. “Who’s gonna buy you snacks and bring you microwaved water bottles?”

“Jungwon.” You land your hands on his shoulders and force him to look at you. “I really just don’t like when people are around me when I'm on my period.” 

He blows a strand of his hair up before pursing his lips, accepting the fact that maybe he’s a bit too clingy. Then again, you’re the only person in this city he knows and arguably the only person in this world he’s managed to grow so close with.

Given the fact that the two of you only met like, what? Two weeks ago? He should probably tone it down and not make an attempt to change your lifestyle just so he can sleep next to someone. 

“Fine.” He huffs, frowning harder. “But if you need snacks or–”

“I’ll call you.” You shake his shoulders before forcing him into a bear hug. “Thanks though.” 

And with that, you go your separate ways at the end of the work day and try to ignore how the pain medicine did close to nothing all day to help with the twisting in your abdomen. 

Still, you’re relieved to know you can tough out the next few days in silence due to Jungwon backing you up on your false-sickness nonsense nearing the end of your shift. 

“I feel like I’m coming down with a fever.” You whined to your boss, happy that the first day cold-sweats from your period makes it appear as just that. A fever. 

“She’s been a bit out of it all day. If you need me to help out on the down-low while she’s recovering, I don’t mind.” Jungwon had added, smiling at your boss and not at all bothered by the unpaid work he’ll probably have to do for your sake. 

A great friend he is. You’re lucky to have met him. 

An amazing friend, really. For helping you find space for yourself in crowded clubs and within your own bed. For lending a hand at work and showing up every day for your shifts despite simply being an artist that’s presenting his work there. No where is he needed within that museum outside of, well, you. 

And he’s always there. So for him to not be here now, when you’re making your way to your apartment door? It feels...wrong. Mostly because, as alone as you are when you walk inside and as silent as it is, you don’t entirely feel as alone like you once did here. 

Still, you go about your nightly routine and fall into bed with those same cramps in your gut. It’s not long before you’re drifting off, pleased to know that at least when you’re sleeping, there’s no pain in your body. 

・・・・・・・・・・・・・・

A strong scent wakes you, forcing your eyes open in the darkness of your room. 

Familiar. Warm. Spicy.

Cinnamon.

A tug, just a little pull inside of you brings you to your feet as you wander through your apartment. Straight to the front door. Straight out of the front door. 

“You know where I live?” You whisper drowsily, rubbing your eyes and walking straight into his grasp, ignoring the feeling of sticky blood leaking out of you just from getting out of bed alone.

“No.” Sunghoon speaks against your hair, rubbing your arms as he holds you against him. 

“Oh.” You accept his answer with a nonchalant feeling inside of you. Who even cares how he ended up here? 

“Come back with me?” He whispers, already taking a step back and smiling wickedly when you instantly follow, forcing your nose further against his chest and up to his neck. “I hear it dripping, love, come.”

And you do. All the way downstairs and into a car with heavily tinted windows. 

You feel comfortable, safe. 

The cramps in your belly are nowhere near as you slowly but surely come to your senses. Half-awake but feeling buzzed next to him. Still, you smile while keeping your nose planted up and against his neck even as he drives. 

You like the sound of his little laughs each time he tries to push you back to your seat, and you like even more the way he mutters to himself through it when he relents and lets you do as you please. The short drive in the dead of night doesn’t offer much in terms of danger anyway. 

And slowly still, your mind clears. Breaking out of the buzzed fog when he brings you through the cathedral

 silently. Past the pale-eyed nuns with pursed smiling lips, past the windows and hallways. 

No longer are you buzzed by the time you make it through those heavy doors of the extravagant room. The same one you prayed in. The same one you nearly fainted in. The same one you tried to forget. 

“How do you feel?” He asks just moments after the doors close. 

You can sense the slightest bit of hesitation in his voice when he asks you that, only now realizing that you’re in your pajamas and fucking staining them.

“What do you mean?” You ask, squeezing your legs together in an uncomfortable show of what’s happening between them. 

“Are you awake?” He asks now, still slightly hesitant in front of you. You can almost see him hold himself back. 

From something.

“As far as I know.” You tilt your head, glancing around the room. “Um, can I go to the bathro–”

“Can you read that clock?” He interrupts you and points to the candle-lit wall. 

“Three thirty–” You pause, squinting to make sense of the exact minute. “three.” 

He smiles at the fact that you’re entirely awake with him this time, despite the drowsy lure he had you in when he appeared at your door. 

You’re here of your own free will, and you’re not running. 

“Do you want to go home?” 

You’re confused by the questions. As confused and drunk as you felt upon stumbling out your apartment door, you very much came here willingly. If anything, you’re just a little weirded out by the fact that you were paying such close attention to him that you missed the way blood seeped through your clothes. 

“No?” You offer back to him before taking a deep breath. “Can you show me where the bathroom is though?” 

And before you can even comprehend it, Sunghoon is right up against you. Looming and staring down as his hands rest on your shoulders before sliding down to your waist. 

“Now, now.” He chuckles, lowering his face just an inch, resting his lips on your forehead. “Why would I want to do that?” 

“Because I’m gross right now?” You laugh awkwardly, trying to take a step back but realizing that his grip on you tightens. 

“Oh, have you forgotten?” He laughs out, lowering himself more, dragging his lips all the way down your face, neck, chest. 

“Ah, wait–” You panic when you feel his nose against your stomach, threatening to go lower. “I’m like…” You’re embarrassed to say it now. 

After all, you came here with the clear indication of fucking. Period or not, you’re not afraid of a little bit of blood but…this.

“Sunghoon, I’m on my period.” You finally speak into the room, trying to push his face from your stomach. 

“I know.” He smiles, pressing his nose harder against your stomach. “Drove me crazy all day.” He dips his face down instantly, inhaling deeply between your legs.

Something inside of you is insanely turned on by his blatant interest in you. 

“All day?” You ask, hands reaching for his hair as he drags his nose straight through the mess you’ve made. 

“Could smell it, darling.” He laughs, pulling back and looking up at you. “Smells so sweet, not gross. Delicious.”

Why the fuck is the blood smeared against the tip of his nose so alluring? Jungwon was right, you really are into some freaky shit. Then again, it’s not so weird considering you’ve never done this before. Everyone’s gotta start somewhere when it comes to kinks, right? 

“Can smell something else too.” He looks back between your legs, ignoring that you are trying to act like you don’t want to let him. “You’re aroused.” 

Oh. 

And just as you’re preparing for some sort of pressure between your thighs, you feel a waft of cold air rush up your body when he stands and grabs your face with both hands. 

“You never came back.” He hisses against your lips, dragging you back and further into the room with him. “I had to sniff you out like a fucking dog.” 

Your mouth falls open at the spiteful shift in his voice, following his movements all the way into the room until he’s spinning around and pushing you from his hold. You fall back against something insanely soft, and instantly you moan at the feeling of silk against you. 

Barely able to catch your breath, he’s over you. He’s on you. Tucking his face into the crook of your neck with a low rumbled growl in his throat and inhaling over and over again. 

Inhale. Inhale. Inhale. 

And you can feel him nose his way all the way up to your face, opening his eyes and staring straight through you with slack lips just over yours. 

You’re mesmerized by him at this moment. Never has a man acted this way with you and it’s insane to think you’d ever be satisfied with someone who wouldn’t. You almost strain your neck to kiss him, and you truly would have if it weren’t for the fact that you feel him sink his hand into your shorts.

Not even a second to truly comprehend how ice-cold his fingers feel when he slips them down and slides two of them into you. He watches your face when he does it, his own slack lips turning to a smile when you moan out at the smallest of pleasure he wants to offer you. 

“Oh, look at you,” He coos, feeling your arms shoot around his shoulders when he continues to slide the digits in and out of you. “So sticky, what a pretty little mess.” 

You groan in embarrassment at the act, knowing full well that you’ll have to face the fact that you like it at some point after he’s finished with you. You don’t mind admitting it so much now though. The way his fingers slide through the thick mess, forcing the scent of brass to mix with his own cinnamon aroma? To die for, truly. 

“I could just eat you up–” He chokes in a whisper this time, struggling to maintain his composure from the sickening sweet smell of your blood. “Would you like that?”

You lift up instantly, kissing against his slackened smile. It’s one sided, as he simply lets you do it and nothing more. Mostly because he, himself, is spiraling into a frenzy of what he needs more than what you want. It’s all pleasure the same though, as he feels your tongue trace against one of his sharpened teeth.

Just a small bite. Just a taste.

“Ah–” You pull back in a wince, the flavor of blood hitting the back of your taste buds as you look up at him with confusion.

He doesn’t allow much looking though, as you hear that same rumble from his throat right up against your lips. You feel his tongue lick you up, slurping the blood straight from your new wound and moaning through the flavor of it. 

His eyes flutter closed as he tries to hold down his thirst, knowing that his fingers are fucking dripping with this same sweet, red slick. It wouldn’t take much now for him to break and let it all drip down his throat. He could end this now if he’s not careful.

And when he opens his eyes again as he pulls back from your sweet tongue, he notes the look of confusion still on your face. His eyes roll in fond annoyance at you for that, only because you have this stubborn need to question despite having the clear answer bleeding from your mouth. 

“You’re still trying to pretend you don’t realize?” He asks, whispering real close to your lips, darting his tongue out and offering a small kitten lick as he buries his fingers deep. 

Your lips open for him in a moan and he licks into it again. Your still bleeding tongue only drives him further and further from a stable mindset. No one, not in hundreds of years, has tasted this fucking sweet. He almost can’t savor it with the way his body rises from slumber at the mere fucking scent of you from ten blocks away. 

His cock pulses for the first time in decades for you. God, he feels more alive than he did when he was actually cycling blood through his veins. 

“You just sliced open that pretty tongue on my teeth.” He chuckles, basking in the warmth he can only feel with you beneath him. “My fangs, love.” His fingers continue their slide all the while, the sounds of squelching blood filling his ears more than your soft groans for more. “Still, you seem to deny what this is and what I am.” 

You can hear his words, but comprehending them isn't quite as easy. Like, yes, he’s got a vampire kink. Whatever. 

“I get it, you’re kinky.” You huff out, missing the way he stifles a laugh at your denial of the truth. 

“You’re a stubborn one–” He smiles, flashing the same fang that sliced through your tongue. “It’s a bit frustrating. Perhaps even endearing.” 

And then, suddenly, his fingers come to a halt and he waits for you to look at him. Just as you go to speak, he’s sliding his fingers out of your mess so quickly, shushing you with his red stained digits. 

“Now, listen.” 

It’s silent. More silent than you ever thought the world could be. 

“Do you hear it?” 

You shake your head, feeling his fingers leave a trail of your blood against your lips as he drags them away and up to his own mouth. 

There, he hangs his fingers from his mouth, licking gently and tasting thoughtfully before sliding them further in. He sucks them clean in an erotic show of his blood-lust before letting them fall from his still licking tongue. Then, he’s slotting them right back between your legs, wanting more to taste. 

“No? You don’t hear how loud it is?” He asks now in a lower tone, still thirsty, still in need, dipping down to lick the blood from your face. “All that blood in you, bundled up right–” His fingers press hard against your clit. “Here.”

Your body jolts in pleasure, eyes rolling back at the mere sensitivity he forces your body into. God, kinky is right. He knows how to use words. His voice is so elegant while spewing the filth, so proper.

“Ahh, that feels good, doesn’t it?” He questions you in a moan that mimicked your own, now lowering himself from your face and kissing down your clothed chest. Down, down, down. “Do you think you’ll believe me when you feel the blood drain out of you?” His voice echoes in your ears, reminding you of the vampire-like thirst he’s trying to act upon. 

And when he slips your shorts down your legs, you don’t even protest. Which at this point isn’t weird at all. The dude is insanely into it and you can’t help but feel like you can vibe with it if he keeps acting like this. He’s good at roleplaying. 

Instead of an embarrassed protest, you respond to him by spreading your legs and presenting the red mess he’s smeared all over you. Inviting him.

He glances up at you as he watches, saying nothing, thinking nothing except for the fact that– you are perfect. 

In every way, spread out and dripping blood, perfect.

You feel an intense jolt of pain shoot through your body just seconds later, followed by a loud and almost animalistic moan from the man between your legs. You lift slightly as you try to look down at him, witnessing the way he sucks the flesh of your thigh into his mouth, blood weeping from the new wounds his teeth create.

So much blood. He’s the one drunk now, utterly fucking mesmerized by the amount of it you pour for him. Your fleshy thighs offer the freshest, he couldn’t help but take a sip before giving you what your quivering body is truly begging for. He has to quench the genuine thirst before playing with his food, at least. 

And as you watch him it’s like you’re nothing but a piece of meat at this moment. He’s sucking and sucking against your thigh until you’re sure your toes are numb. They’re tingling, and you can physically feel the blood being pulled from you. As if his teeth are two syringes seeping it out of you. 

Af if they are. Not because they actually are, right?

And by the time your toes are effectively filled with static, he finally releases the fleshy bite on your thigh. You stare down, listening to him smack his lips and lick the corners of his mouth, seeing the way he doesn’t make eye contact with you at all before he’s turning his attention and burying his tongue into your crimson coated cunt. Without warning, but with so much eagerness with his tasting lips. 

Your eyes flutter with a loud and strained gasp, eliciting a groan of his own to bubble into the blood that falls against his tongue with each passing pulse of you. He licks in time with your heartbeat, which is fucking insane that you can tell he does it. Never before now have you heard your heart beat so loudly, so frantically in your ears. 

And you would be embarrassed, perhaps even worried that the taste is awful. Maybe it’s too much for him, maybe this kink is all just for show and this is a limit he’s only willing to try once before realizing himself that he doesn’t necessarily like drinking the blood from a woman’s pussy…except– Sunghoon gives you no reason to feel like any of that is true. 

No, no. Oh no. He’s fucking relishing in it and you can tell by the way he moans and skews his head to dig his tongue deeper. You can tell by the way he smothers himself, not coming up for air for even a second of the time he’s spending down there. 

And god, you can feel the mess of it all. Sticky, smearing all over your thighs when his fingers trace you mindlessly before gripping your thighs just to pull you down the bed, closer against his face, sliding his tongue ever deeper.

Moaning, fucking slurping it out of you without so much as a breath. 

He’s not breathing.

And now? You panic, focusing more on the time he’s spending burying his mouth and nose into you than the feeling of it. Your hand shoots down into his hair, pulling his head back and away from you. 

Then your breath is caught in your throat at the sharp image. His eyes blown out, widened at you. Nose, cheeks, chin, tongue all glistening with sticky crimson slick, and a smile.

He smiles at you. 

At least before his tongue is clicking and he’s poking it into the side of his cheek before reaching back, grabbing your hand, and shoving it out of his hair before sinking his face right back between your legs. As if to show you that he was annoyed by that. 

You don’t get to think about it though, because this time he’s licking you more frantically than he already was. Fast tongue flicking and fucking you, his teeth dragging against your pussy lips, refusing to let you believe that he wants to breathe fresh air right now. 

Your hands find purchase in his hair yet again though, and you feel him grip your legs and stiffen his shoulders to keep his head in place just in case you try to pull him from you again. You hear the deep growl. You feel it rumble against you as if to warn you to keep your hands to yourself if you’re not going to let him do exactly what he said he would fucking do. 

So, you don’t pull him away. Instead, you play in his hair with your weak hands. Twisting and twirling strands of it between your fingers until he’s pulling his tongue back on his own. 

A shock to you, truly, that he does it at all. But you guess it makes sense when you feel another sharp pain in your thigh, right below the preview bite he had given you. 

Just when you were gaining feeling back in your toes too. 

And he goes back and forth like that for a while, until his face is utterly soaked in diluted blood and pussy-slick. Until he needs to look at it pulse, and watch how beautiful you still, fucking still, have more to pour out for him. 

He’s amazed, really. Never has he served himself a woman that’s openly bleeding for him like this. After all, he prefers to drink his dinner from the carotid artery and be done with it. He was far more creative back in the day though, you know, when his cock still worked. 

Most of his sexual pleasure came from drinking alone. Never getting hard but always reaching climax in one way or another when he gets that last, delicious drop of blood from his victims. But now? Oh, now. You’ve stirred his arousal back to life. Not from pure hunger, but lust.

It’s been so long that he’s lusted. So, so fucking long since he’s cared enough to fuck his prey or give in to the temptation of menstrual blood. In fact, he can’t even recall ever allowing his victims to fall away from the drowsy lure he puts them in. Many of them didn’t know what was happening to them before death and he preferred it that way. 

Until you. An average looking commoner with insane fucking blood. Devilish blood. Divine, demonic, angelic, fucking celestial tasting blood. 

After all this time, he’s had beautiful face after beautiful face. He’s had men, women, celebrities, false-prophets, and even purely divine bodies.. But you…oh no, he can’t simply kill you like those utter throw-aways.

There was a reason he didn’t end you the first night. Something in him caught fire on the taste of your drunken blood. The alcohol you had ran through his veins along with a taste he’s never once fathomed existing. It was the first time in hundreds of years where he forced himself to let you walk out of his quarters. 

Blood with no comparison. So thick, so sweet, so…damning. How could he have just killed you there? How could he pretend like it’s not addicting? Like he didn’t want you to continue producing more and more of it, all for him to drink up?

Of course he wants all of it. He wants to drain you to your last fucking drop, but then he’d never taste it again. Not in thousands of years, at least. So now, as his cock pulses awake and your heavy flow only produces more and more for his hungry mouth to lick up– fuck.

It’s been so long since he’s felt something for a victim like this, and even longer since he’s wanted to use his cock. No, needing to use it. It feels almost foreign to him now after so many centuries, to fuck and eat at the same time. To indulge in all the pleasure, and not just the one that keeps him alive. To want you to feel the pleasure too, to need you to want him without the false sleep forcing it.

You. 

You’re the one. You’re the one he’s going to keep. For as long as you’ll let him, and when you stop letting him, he’ll have no choice but to lure you again. Forever. All for him. 

“Love,” He rasps out, staring at the way your pussy shines so prettily in front of him, the pulse drawing him to near starvation despite being drenched in his meal. “Never have I wanted to fuck before I–” 

Kill, is the word he almost used. It’s instinctual, but instead he releases a moan from his throat at the mere thought ignoring that instinct. Drinking, sipping. Forever just a fucking appetizer and never the full meal. He can settle. He will settle.

Never. Truly never has he wanted to stop himself from drinking just to fuck and he needs you to know that. The feeling is too erotic for even him to comprehend right now, meshing with his hunger and making him feel –-

Gods be damned, he could kill you. 

He should kill you. Given the fact that he has never let a meal leave this room without being drained entirely. Never while they’re awake and fully aware anyway. Insanity. You’ve made him go insane, losing his wits enough to treat you as something more than a victim.

Despite hunting you as one. Despite never having to hunt anyone like he has you. Wanting you to be here willingly. Wanting you to love the feeling of his thirst. Wanting you to learn how good the drain feels. Wanting you to know what he is and needing you to love it. 

Needing you to stay alive. 

Insane. 

He’s fucking losing it.

He knows that if he can never smell this scent again, if he can never taste it, or have your fingers in his hair, if he can never want to fuck again? Oh, he’d crumble. 

He’d take a walk at noon.

You’re not dying tonight. In fact, never shall you feel the cold slab of a morgue freezer if he has anything to do with it. No blood wasted when it comes time for you, and no life truly lost either. 

If just for the sex. If just to quench a never ending thirst. 

If just to live in insanity.

“Before you–” You release in a breath that he chases. As if craving the life under him like an animal. “Before you, what?”

“Kill.” He whispers as he swallows each breath of yours, tasting the sweet sleep that you once held in your body. His own eyes feeling drowsy as if you have your own lure on him now. 

Even the panicked gasp you release at his choice of word there, he swallows it, kissing you hard in a drowsy groan and smearing the blood all through the kiss, letting your breath rumble out of his mouth as if the moan were from his own lungs. 

“So vacuous.” He chuckles now, feeling the pleasure of his cock jolt through his body. He presses himself between your legs, relishing in the sticky blood seeping straight through his sleep pants. “Do you feel that?” He continues, rutting against you as if he’s a virgin of all that he’s experiencing right now, licking each smear of blood from your cheeks and chin. 

“Ah, Sunghoon,” You groan, but you try to be serious in your tone. Feeling the orgasm that once was bubbling up settle back in your stomach. “You’re making a mess.” 

“Mm, I am.” He mutters mindlessly, pressing harder against you now as the taste settles in his throat. “Love, tell me. You feel it?” 

Of course you fucking feel it. 

The nod you lend pleases him, knowing that it’s not just his imagination. Finally, he can feel the warmth of a living being wrapped around him. Finally, he doesn’t feel so cold. 

“You can’t fathom what it is that you do to me,” He continues his sweet talk, running his lips down to your neck, leaving trails of that blood all the way before immediately piercing his teeth into the same wounds he left on you already. He feels your pulse against his teeth when he sucks and only groans weaker against you as he ruts. 

“Ah–” You wince in pain again, feeling the wound reopen with a cold and sharp prick. The pain ignites something inside of you to press your hips up, sliding yourself against his red-drenched pants. 

He chuckles into his bite at your willingness, his hands reaching straight down to shove his pants down in one movement. Euphoria runs through him at the feeling of your warm blood against him when he presses back against you.

Really, the feeling alone paired with the taste of your fresh blood yet again only drives him to keep going. After all, he has all the time in the world. His intention to keep you here only lends him the ability to press his length straight into that bloody, sopping wet hole of yours. The one pulsing for him, the one that lends his favorite smell, taste, and feeling in the world. 

His teeth are forced to retract when he throws his head back at the sensation of sinking deep into your cunt, one fluid motion reminding him of how much he loved this feeling before. How often he’d fuck, and fuck, and fuck until suddenly, he just– couldnt. 

You’ve ignited so much life within him, even while doing nothing more than lying here bleeding. No longer does he feel bored with the world considering he’s managed to find you in it. He could possibly even love you if you let him.

Especially with the way you react nearly the same as he does. As if you haven’t fucked before. As if you’ve never mixed scents with another being before ever coming to this city to chase your own demise. The little sounds you make could be so much more than what you think they are. 

They’re so similar to the ones you make when he bites, when he sucks, oh, so so similar. So deeply seeped in pleasure, pain, hesitation.

“Darling, are you afraid?” Sunghoon manages to say as he feels himself warm from inside of your tense body. “Do you believe me now? Do you understand now?”

You frantically shake your head at the tear of his cock spreading your walls open around it. That one slide rendering you near faint considering the amount of blood he’s taken from you already. The feeling of…ice. It’s in you, running from your veins all throughout your body. So, so, fucking cold. 

No, no, no. No living being on this earth could feel this hard inside of you while being this…oh. His hands have been cold on you too. Always. His scalp under your fingernails as you scratched. His lips, his tongue, all of it was freezing until your blood was coating him. Everything about him is ice.

Still, you shake your head through the pleasure, cock warming him both literally and unintentionally. He just sits inside of you, feeling the beat of your heart gush that same blood past his length and out of you. Your eyes slightly open to look at him, afraid of what you’ll see. 

He’s smiling. His eyes are…brighter.

“C–cold.” You manage to stutter out, nearly feeling brain freeze from the way he pulls his hips back and plunges into you again, warm blood splashing out and against his pelvis, coating your thighs more. And oh, that bite on your thigh, it’s dripping again. 

“So cold, yes?” He chuckles when he dips down, moving his hips steadily in and out of your sticky mess. No longer thirsty, just…aroused. “Do you understand?” 

You frantically shake your head again, grabbing onto him from over his shirt. You’re panicking inside, your fingers gripping so tight, trying to find heat. Needing heat. 

How did you not think about this more? It took this to recognize that he never warms? And he’s smiling at your panic? 

God, but it feels so, so fucking good. 

“Love,” He coos at your panic, pistoning his hips easily with the slide, bringing both of his hands to your face and forcing you to look at him. “I’m dead.”

Ah. 

So he is. 

Yet, the feeling of him inside of you feels better than you’ve ever had. The way his hands hold your face, the way his eyes blow out for you, the way his entire face is tinted in red. He’s so alive yet…

Entirely dead. 

“You’re afraid?” He asks through his own forgotten pleasure, wanting you to stay but entirely willing to put you to sleep so this doesn’t have to end. 

“Sunghoon,” You interrupt any words he’s about to give you, opting to continue fighting the truth when you note the softer tone of voice he uses despite the quickening pace of his hips. “Harder.”

Oh, the fire within burns colder than it ever has at those words. He doesn't even need to pull you? You don’t want to pretend this isn’t happening? You’re accepting him? 

If you want him to go harder, he’ll make you feel like no other. Harder he goes, using all of his pent up frustration of not being able to drain you fucking dead, all of his strength, all of everything he’s missed out for the past centuries– all of it. It’s behind his thrusts now as he slams into you. The blood that splatters out only makes the moment all the more grand to him. 

Breaths leave you with each slam, the sticky sound from below being drowned out by the sheer sound your heart rate in your ear. You’re still panicking, but you can’t help but want more. After all, surely what’s left for you after he’s done is….no, it’s not real.

He feels the fear pulse around his cock and moans out at it, the squeeze so tight, the gush so delicious. This entire room smells of you, and he wants it to be fucking drenched in you. The fear inside of you right now only intensifies the pleasure, and he knows he should be calming you through it, he knows he should tell you that you’re making out of this alive, but–

The way the heart beats so frantically when one is terrified. You’re dripping with fear, the smell of your blood intensifies with each petrifying pulse squeezing his cock to the point he feels his own heart make an attempt to pulse. Your life runs through him entirely out of fear that you’ll lose it. 

He can’t tell you, not when your body reacts so flawlessly. Exactly how it’s supposed to react. So delicious is that fear, he wonders if it makes your blood taste any hotter. He dips down, sinking his teeth into your neck once again and confirms his suspicions. It does taste hotter, sweeter, and it pumps itself so beautifully against his eager fangs. Almost as if you truly bleed for him, because he’s not even needing to suck for it at this point. 

It just drips, and pours, and bubbles out all for him to swallow up. 

You push through it though, the pain is so good, and if this is what it’s like to die, perhaps you’ve found yourself in a lucky position. At least you’re not being ripped to pieces by a stranger, or crushed beneath your own car on a highway. At least this way, you’re being held and seemingly adored.

And the fear, excitement, and pure adrenaline in your body forces it out of you. A rush of heat slamming Sunghoon right in his gut when you convulse under him. Legs shaking as you moan out both in disbelief and intense ecstasy. The blood tastes even sweeter now for him, so sweet that he has to pull back in a guttural and demonic growl.

It’s been so, so long since he’s felt a woman cum around him. His own body reacts in an instant, releasing his own thick secretion into you as you shake through it. Sweating, panting, drooling, crying, bleeding. All for him. 

And the explosion behind his eyes is a reminder to keep you alive. He forces himself to keep the inhale from happening as he plunges into you one last time, coating the inside of your bloody walls with a flurry of freezing ropes. Amazed at the feeling he has long forgotten, his body shakes through it and renders him near psychotic for the release. 

You continue to shake with him, shivering at how the man makes you feel as if you’ve been lying in snow for days, but you keep your eyes closed. 

You’re terrified of him, of this, of the truth hitting you square between the eyes as if it wasn’t obvious all along. Fantasies, legends, fairy tales. How many of them are based in reality? 

You know what’s coming now, based on those same stories. 

The last bite, the drain, fuzzy images, death.

And you embrace for it, trying to relish in the post-orgasm bliss before it happens because you know there’s no way to run from him. If he’s truly what he says he is, there’s no chance in this world that you can stop him. You’re going to die, and the strange way in which your brain accepts the inevitable is more calming than petrifying. 

You never knew you’d be able to prepare for it like this, but here you are. Waiting for it. Accepting it. And when you feel the air of his body shift down to you, right up against your neck, you squeeze your eyes shut and hold your breath.

His cold hand tilts your face and all you can do is anticipate as you feel his teeth graze the abused and swollen marks there. 

Here it is. 

You inhale deeply, hoping that if there’s an afterlife, this last breath will be a good memory for you until–

A kiss.

He kisses the wounds. He licks them. He nuzzles his cold nose against them, and then he pulls out of you and lays directly on top of you. 

It’s silent as you lay here, still trying to prepare to fucking die and he’s just prolonging it? 

“Get it over with.” You gripe, frustration dripping out in your weak voice. 

It’s laughable, really, that you’ll sound so argumentative and petty over the loss of your life. So laughable that even he’s chuckling about it, right against your ear with no breath fanning against your skin. 

“Get what over with, darling?” He asks, not having felt this drowsy drained state in so long. 

Your mind is racing though, seemingly trying to think of everything that has ever happened in your life onto everything you wish still could happen, only to consistently land on the fact that you don’t want to believe what’s happening. 

You know very well the denial you’re forcing yourself into, even in the face of demise, you don’t want to believe any of this. 

“I still can’t believe that you’re— No,” You dead-pan before taking in a terrified breath, still keeping your eyes closed. “They’re not real.”

“I’m very, very real.” Sunghoon argues back, infatuated with the denial you try to keep. “You know that I am.” 

“So, you have to kill me then?” Your voice gets smaller as you accept the truth little by little, your breath shakier. “Fucking get it over with then, stop trying to savor it, it’s not like I can run now, right?” 

You still like the way he laughs, so breathy despite having no breath of his own. And through that laugh, he lends another kiss before you feel all of that weight lift from you and dip onto the bed next to you instead. 

“Don’t beg for it.” Sunghoon warns, pulling away from you and forcing his instinct to remember the release of the orgasm he just had. “I won’t be able to stop myself if you ask me so prettily.” 

You pause, your eyes opening against your will as you look at him. He’s facing away from you, but you can see the damp blood drying in the strands of his hair. Your eyes trail down, a puddle of blood staining nearly the entire lower half of the bed and it’s still dripping out of you. 

Or perhaps, that’s whatever it is he fucking shoved into you and fucked out of himself. 

“None of this is happening.” You say to yourself. “I did not just fuck a vampire.” 

“You’re right.” He comments with another laugh. “A vampire just fucked you.” 

Well. You’re still not ready to believe that. Even with the absence of heat, even with the lack of breathing. 

“Prove it.” You ask, unsure as to why you’re wanting it both to be real and just a dream.

You back away when he immediately does as he’s asked. Turning to you and crawling over you. There, he lowers his body, chest to your cheek. 

“Listen.” He says, reaching to hold your face and press it up and against his chest. “Anything?”

You wait, listening for a thump, anything to prove he’s wrong. Fucking any sound at all to blow his cover. 

You’re frozen as you listen, your body going into fight or flight as the seconds turn to minutes. Unfortunately, your body is not a fighter, nor a flier. You’re stuck with his hand on your cheek, holding you so tightly against something you wish was alive. 

A little thump, thump, thump could be the most relieving sound to you, but no. There’s nothing. 

You pull away from him now, body still frozen but head running a mile a minute. How many proofs does he need to provide for you to understand that it’s not fantasy? 

And finally, you feel your body jerk away from him on its own. He’s startled by the movement and you use that short second to roll off of the bed. You do your best to stand, but your brain immediately pulses in pain. Your vision goes fuzzy, dizzy.

Right, you’ve lost a lot of blood tonight. To think your toes aren’t still numb, to think you’d be able to stand without dropping to the ground.

“Thousands of years.” Sunghoon stands quickly, stalking over you and wrapping his arms around you. There, he presses you back on the bed and straddles your hips. “I’ve never told another soul and let them live to remember it– until you.”

You shake under him, the weight feeling more dead now than it ever has. He’s heavy as he holds you down, but somehow his grip on you is gentle. His voice is soft. His eyes are hesitant. He’s not holding you here to hurt you, it seems.

“My love, I told you time and time again,” He glances away from you, feeling something within him shrivel at the thought that now you’re unwilling. “Is it different now? To find that I’ve told no lies to you?” 

Still, he soothes you as you try to comprehend reality. You think hard through the dizzy fog of blood-loss, running more with your mind than your body. He did tell you. And you’re still alive. He just drank and drank from you, and you’re still alive. 

He came to your apartment, he told you he smelled you. 

He’s never lied. 

You just refused to listen. 

He drank you, he fucked you, he held you, and now he’s holding you. 

“I don’t want you to fear me.” Sunghoon admits with sad eyes, trying to ignore how long it’s been since he’s felt sad at all. 

So many emotions you force him to feel, this was not one he was looking forward to. 

“How can I not be afraid?” You breathe out in slurred speech, as if to mock him, because you now know that he truly can’t do it himself. 

“It’s too late to be afraid.” He says apologetically. “You’d have died weeks ago had I wanted it.” 

Why are you still falling in love with his voice? With his stupid grammar, and his horrifying dead-skin? Even with the fear in your stomach, why does this make your heart flutter?

“I’ve never felt so full,” He admits now, releasing his grip on you slowly. He can smell your heart slow, knowing you’re starting to calm now. “Until now.” 

You stare up at him as your eyes recover back to clear vision, in awe of how gentle a killer is being with you. Inspecting the way he’s drenched in your blood, yet you truly still are breathing. He could have killed you time and time again. 

But he didn’t. 

He’s never once lied to you about what he is, and still you struggle to believe what he says. Even when his words match his actions. Sure, he’s a vampire, but he’s not going to kill you? 

What reason do you have to believe him save for the blatant truth behind it? Do you want to believe him? Would you rather be dead?

He knows you can’t fathom the truth so quickly though, and that’s why he’s being gentle. He has nothing more than patience to give to you, if it’ll end in your acceptance anyway. The fact that he can hear your heart beating correctly again only gives him hope that he’s right about not having killed you on the first night.

After all, he truly hasn’t lied to you. Never has he felt full, even after killing several a night. Always hungry, always thirsty, always needing more and more of the syrupy life strangers offer to him under his lure. But you. Entirely aware, flowing with blood that drives him crazy…you’ve managed to fill that desire in him. 

Why should he lie to you? Why would he kill you if there is no need? Despite fighting the instinct, he’s satiated by you. His cold body warms with yours. He will never get enough of you, so how on earth could he just…take that away from himself?

And you do stop fighting. In fact, you lay with him in a bloodied mess and sleep. Despite wanting to ask questions, wondering if he can even sleep at all. Your body is tired, your mind is still petrified, and your hands still cling to the source of it, unsure if you’ll make it to morning at all.

Still, somehow, this feels holy. 

・・・・・・・・・・・・・・

PART TWO Fanart by @a-the-na 🖤🖤🖤🖤

[dadddybangtan]

[dadddybangtan]

🎀 nsfw X links 🎀

♡ sylus nsfw links ! happy birthday (daddy) sylus >.<

🐦‍⬛ • he's so so sensitive! cumming on your hands like a adolescent boy

🐦‍⬛ • Sylus gonna show you how to shut your bratty mouth

🐦‍⬛ • it's fine if your thighs is feels like burning after only few seconds of bouncing, Sylus is more than happy to do the work for you!

🐦‍⬛ • showing off cute and hot aftersex pics

🐦‍⬛ • domestic morning with your hubby

🐦‍⬛ • filling you up with sweet creampie

🐦‍⬛ • sit and squeeze his face with your thighs and bury his face with your cunt

🐦‍⬛ • taking care of you after you had a rough day

🐦‍⬛ • taking him whole after weeks of size training

🐦‍⬛ • you been self concious about your weight so Sylus show you how light you are to him

🐦‍⬛ • angry sex! he's pissed but still wanna makes you feel so good you gonna babble apologies

🐦‍⬛ • finger fucking you while putting you on your place

🐦‍⬛ • being a feisty kitty and sending him a pic wearing his favorite lingerie on you while he's on meeting! you're definitely asking for spanking!

[dadddybangtan]

Credit: @/NicoleCole65296 on Twitter

[dadddybangtan]

Sitting on Caleb's Face

Warning: Cunnilingus

AN: @his_lily00 on tiktok inspired this little ditty. I love you girl, stay freaky, never change.

Caleb x reader

He's been asking for weeks for you to sit on his face. He already enjoys eating you out but he's never gotten you to climb on top of him like that.

If you're worried about being too heavy, he immediately waves the thought away. If you're REALLY worried about being too heavy, he promises to use his evol to make sure you don't crush him.

When you finally agree, he drops everything he's doing and lays down right then and there. It doesn't matter if he's in the living room or the bedroom, he's finally getting exactly what he wants and he's not going to give you a chance to second guess yourself.

He prefers if you just push your panties aside to let him eat you out. He likes when you keep them on during sex and this is no different. There's something hot about just pulling them to the side and fucking you. Like he can't wait the extra three seconds to take them off of you. He needs to have you right now.

When he finally gets his tongue inside you, it's perfect. He's always been good about eating you out. He enjoys it a lot. But something about you being on top of him while he does it really gets him going. Your soaking wet pussy just drips directly into his mouth and he wouldn't have it any other way.

Every little noise you let out just makes him want to bury his face further into your pussy. When you grab a fistful of his hair and try to rock your hips onto his face, he groans so loud you're sure the neighbors heard him.

Slowly but surely, you can feel your body beginning to move. It isn't until his face is buried in your pussy that you realize he's not using his evol on you anymore.

If you try to get up, he's digging his fingers into your thighs to keep you in place. He'll use his evol again if only to make sure that you. don't. move.

Can he breathe? Who cares. He doesn't. He's in heaven right now and if going to Heaven means he gets to stay there, that's a sacrifice he's willing to make.

He's curling his tongue inside you, tasting everything that he can't. He can't get enough of the way you taste. He usually pretty vocal in bed but he's extra vocal right now. This is all he's ever wanted.

He sucks on your clit a little too hard and you cum hard enough to see stars. You pull harder on his hair and the mix of the pain from his hair and your pussy clenching around his tongue makes him cum without a single touch to his cock.

He keeps sucking until you're a whining mess on top of him. He cums longer than he's used to and there's a large stain quickly forming on his pants.

From that moment forward, he'll whine and beg for you to sit on his face more often. He's already gotten a taste for it, he wants more.

Requests are Open!!

[dadddybangtan]

Welp. Guess I'm also going to write a summer getaway fic *:ﾟ*｡⋆ฺ(*´◡`)

Credit: @/17_jyt on Twitter

[dadddybangtan]

[dadddybangtan]

Step-bro!Caleb headcanons. I couldn’t help myself I had to write this.

tw: stepcest

——————

Step-bro!Caleb who would fuck you into your mattress mercilessly when both of your parents weren’t home. Pounding deep into your drooling cunt over and over, even after you came, what, like four times already? He loved to overstimulate his sweet little step sis, teaching her that no man could ever make her feel the way he does.

Step-bro!Caleb who would breed you whenever you had to go out together. Whether it be shopping, out with friends, or simply running errands, he would make sure your pussy is filled to the brim with his cum. Then, to make sure you keep it all inside, he would plug up your cunt with a toy vibrating on the lowest setting. It was enough to make you feel good, but not nearly enough to fully get you off. It was torture.

Step-bro!Caleb who during family dinners would act completely normal talking about his adventures with the DAA while you were struggling to keep it together because he was fingering you under the table. Your eyes were about to glaze over before he pinched your clit, resulting in a slightly too loud whimper. “You okay, pipsqueak?” he would ask nonchalantly as your parents eyes fell on you. All you could do was nod in response and hope they didn’t think much of it, because if you opened your mouth again you wouldn’t be able to close it.

Step-bro!Caleb who would come with you to your bedroom after dinner and lock the door before pinning you down on your bed to whisper in your ear. “You almost got us caught, sweet girl. I guess I’ve gotta train you to be quieter, hm?”

Step-bro!Caleb would stuff your wet panties in your mouth to keep you quiet as his cock pumps inside of you with slow, deep strokes. He’d replace your panties with his large hand when he realizes they’re not enough to muffle your moans. Tears would be streaming down your face from the pleasure, and he would lick them up and kiss the corners of your eyes.

“Shh, it’s okay sweet girl. Just one more. You think you can orgasm one more time f’me?”

“Nghh, fuck….c’mon pipsqueak, that’s it. Cum on your big brother’s cock again. F-Fuck, I’m gonna cum—”

Step-bro!Caleb who paints your insides white as he cums inside of his sweet little sis’ pussy while her gummy walls clench down on him, as if trying to suck him in deeper than he already was. He would have you cockwarm him for that night, falling asleep in your bedroom. Would your parents wonder why you both were coming out of your bedroom in the morning? Probably. But that was a problem for tomorrow.

[dadddybangtan]

Bro was jealous of a mannequin

[dadddybangtan]

blushing bandit

synopsis: you coax caleb into admitting his crimes against your laundry.

tags: sub!caleb, caleb steals your panties to get off, you make him admit it, fingering (main character to self), caleb praise kink, caleb whimpers again, teasing, sexual condescension, cum...licking? (off of panties) pairing: caleb x reader word count: 1.3k

a/n: i told myself if i ever wrote panty sniffer caleb it'd have to be unique since it's done so much so i hope this is enough. sorry if not. [omg i’m proofreading rn and i am not the same person i was when i wrote this]

You’d been keeping a spreadsheet.

In the last four times that Caleb had done your laundry, four pairs of your panties had gone missing.

The first time, you’d shrugged it off. Meh, maybe the dryer sucked them in, you’d thought. The second was just a coincidence, and the third had had you this close to calling a repairman. But by the fourth? You suspected you were dealing with a repeat offender—a human one. 

This wasn’t Caleb’s first time having a…fixation with your underwear. A few times prior, you’d walked past the laundry room to see him staring down at a small scrap of lace or cotton in his hands, frantically chucking them into the washer once he spotted you. Needless to say, you were so certain of his guilt that you didn’t even care to check his room—you were right, you knew, and he’d admit what he’d done by the end of the day. 

Fifteen minutes before Caleb usually gets home, you crack your door open just enough to expose your bed. Climbing onto the mattress, you angle your panty-clad lower half to the doorway. The pair you’ve got on are simple: pink cotton with white lace borders. You honestly didn’t care which ones you wore—they just needed to be light enough to stain.

Spreading your legs, you slip your hand under the lace waistband, running your fingers up and down your slit. As you part your folds, you slowly slide your hand up to play with your clit, circling, flicking, and rubbing until you’re slick with arousal. Your movements are calculated, methodical. This wasn’t about achieving pleasure—that would come when you tormented Caleb later. For now, your goal was to soil your panties with cum. 

When the front door opens, you quicken your pace, rocking your hips into the bed so it creaks and dropping distinct moans from your lips. 

You don’t even bother to listen for footsteps—you know he’ll come. You know he’ll see. 

As you feel yourself getting close, you swipe two fingers along your glistening folds before sinking them into your core, matching the rhythm of the other hand still playing with your clit.

The pressure builds and builds, but a glimpse of the shadow moving in the cracked doorway is what finally pushes you over the edge. 

With a loud cry, you roll your hips through your orgasm, writhing sensually on the crumpled sheets beneath you. 

After a heady moment, you remove your hands from your core and press them against the outside of your panties, making sure they’re wholly drenched for what you’re about to do.

When you look back up, the shadow is gone, and you know you’ve got him.

“How was your day?” you greet, barging into Caleb’s room with your hands behind your back. 

With his broad back toward you, he freezes briefly before relaxing. “It was alright, nothing much happened,” he shrugs, still not turning to face you. 

“Alright, huh?” you repeat. Clearly, he was in need of a little push. 

“You wanna know what I did today?” you start, a saccharine excitement in your voice. “Today I went through the load of laundry you washed for me yesterday. Do you want to guess what it had in common with the three loads before that?”

Tensing, Caleb finally turns around, a noticeable tremor in his idle hands. “It...smelled like detergent?” he jokes lamely, offering a weak smile. 

“Oh, cut the shit, Caleb,” you scoff, sauntering over to him. “I know. No excuses, no stupid jokes, no changing the subject. I know.”

A startled laugh falling from his lips, Caleb flits his eyes to the side before opening his mouth to respond. “Wh—”

“Shut it,” you intercept. “Now, I came in here to make a deal—an unfair deal, to be honest. It will benefit you much more than me.” Stepping closer, you grin at his wary expression before continuing. “If you admit you've been stealing my panties, you get to keep these. No catch,” you offer, waving your underwear, coated with the evidence of your earlier climax, in front of his face. 

Caleb’s eyes pop out of his skull. Dumbfounded, he stands staring down at you, opening and closing his mouth like he’s glitching.

“Hmm? I thought you liked these,” you mock. Placing a hand on his chest, you push his dazed form onto the bed behind him. Chuckling, you crawl up his body, panties threaded between your fingers. 

When you come face to face, you take his jaw in your other hand, angling it as if inspecting him. “Are you sick?” you pout. “Where’s your enthusiasm? Where’s the man who stole four pairs of panties out of my dirty laundry? One I could understand—to each their own—but four is just greedy, Caleb.”

Through his heaving breaths, all Caleb can respond with is a shuddering whimper. He looks up at you as if you’re about to smite him, and although you’re not, there’s something exhilarating about the visual. 

“No answer? What a bummer,” you sigh dramatically. With a mischievous wink, you tighten your grip on his chin. “That’s okay, though—I think I can find him.”

Slowly, you bring the hand holding your underwear up to hover right over his face. “Is he…here?” you ask, lightly tracing the lace hem of your panties around his jawline.

At the contact, Caleb’s breath hitches, and he lets out a pitiful, incoherent noise. 

“No? What about here?” you tease, now rubbing the fabric against his reddening cheek.

When he still doesn’t break, you click your tongue. “Still nothing?” you tut. “This guy’s a tough nut to crack. But don’t worry—I think I can find him right…here.” In one fluid motion, you grip Caleb’s chin and press your soaked panties to his face, the wettest patch directly over his nose and mouth. 

Caleb's eyes roll back into his head before he gives you what you’ve been waiting for. Jolting his hand out to grab your arm, he presses the fabric harder against his face as he bucks up into you. 

He inhales deeply before closing his eyes and, with his hand still wrapped around your wrist, pushes his tongue out to taste your leftover release.  

Moaning, he opens his mouth to suckle on your panties, and you coo down at him. “Aw, there he is,” you say, caressing his cheek with your free hand. “Just needed some guidance, hm? Needed to know I wasn't mad at you for using my dried slick to get off.” 

Whimpering through the material, he nods twice. 

“Good,” you praise as he nuzzles into your hand. “But!” you continue, ripping the fabric from his mouth, to which he groans from the loss of contact. 

“Remember what I told you. You can have these,” you say, dangling your underwear in his face and pulling away when he leans forward, “if you confess what you did.”

Violet eyes look up at you in panicked deliberation, and you can visibly see when his perversion overwhelms his pride. 

“W-when I did your laundry the last few times,” he starts timidly, voice hoarse from disuse. “I took…I didn’t mean to, I swear. They were just there and they smelled like you and I couldn’t stop.”

“Couldn’t stop what, Caleb?” you prod, brow raised. “What did you do with them?”

You know what he did with them. But you want to hear it from him.

“…I used them,” he admits, voice dropping to a whisper. “I brought them back here and I smelled them and…tasted them…pretended it was you. So I could come.” When he stops, his face is flushed scarlet. 

“Mm,” you hum, stroking his cheek. “That wasn’t so hard, was it? Thank you for telling me,” you praise, and he shivers under your touch. 

“You’ve been so good for me—I'll give you what I promised,” you say, folding your ruined panties and laying them neatly atop Caleb's chest.

Shuffling off of him, you head for the door before looking back. 

“And Caleb,” you call, “cotton cannot taste that good. Next time, just ask me for the real thing.” 

[dadddybangtan]

hey so i’m cryin~

Becoming parents with Sylus cuz why not

tw: tiniest bit of smut 🤏🏽, postpartum depression

——————

Sylus has you in a mating press one night, absolutely rearranging your insides. After hours of endless fucking, he finally lets you relax. You lay against him, both your chests rising and falling in sync as you try to catch your breath. You shiver at the feeling of his warm cum oozing out of your abused pussy, a whine slipping your lips as he used his fingers to push it back in.

“Shh, kitten. You’re okay. Just keep all my cum inside, ‘kay? When I told you I’d breed you tonight, I meant it.” he whispers by your ear, sending another shiver down your spine.

Some weeks later you find out you’re pregnant, and Sylus does nothing but make sure you’re pampered all the time. When he notices that simpler tasks that you used to do with such ease now tire you out a lot quicker, he keeps a close watch over you to make sure you don’t overwork yourself.

Ankles are swollen again? Sylus carries you to the couch and has you kick your feet up, massaging them as you tell him about your day. Felt the baby kicking? He’d lean down next to your stomach and press his ear and large hand to your belly, hoping to feel the movement of your unborn child.

When the two of you find out you’re having a girl, Sylus is ecstatic. “I hope she looks just like you, kitten.”

Well, too bad. Your daughter came out looking exactly like her father, same ashy hair and ruby eyes. You went through 9 hard months of pregnancy just for the product to be a carbon copy of the father. The audacity.

Shortly after you arrived home from the hospital, Sylus saw signs of postpartum depression. One night, he arrived home to see you sitting in bed with the baby in your arms as she cried, but she wasn’t the only one crying.

“S-Sylus!” you sobbed when you saw him. “I-I don’t know what she wants, she won’t stop crying!”

Sylus quickly rushed to your side and sat on the bed next to you, opening his arms for you to give him your baby. As soon as she’s in his arms, she stops crying.

“There there little one…..it’s okay, daddy’s home..” he cooed, holding a large finger out in front of her as she grabbed it with both of her tiny little hands.

The baby may have stopped crying, but you didn’t. Seeing how your baby stoped crying as soon as she left your arms broke your heart. Sylus laid her down in her crib before turning back to you, noticing the continuous flow of tears on your face. “Kitten, what’s wrong? Did something happen?”

“She hates me, Sylus! My own baby hates me! If I can’t even calm her down on my own, what kind of mother am I?” you continued to sob, burying your face in your hands as Sylus watched you helplessly. “I’m not fit to be a mother….why did I think I could do this?”

You felt Sylus wrap his strong arms around you, and you were filled with a sense of security. “Because you can, my love. She’s a newborn, and you’re a new mother. Of course you’ll have ups and downs, but that doesn’t make you any less fit to be a mother.”

He took your wrists in his hands and gently pulled your hands away from your face before kissing your tear-soaked cheeks. “You’re going to be an amazing mother, okay?” he says before pressing one more kiss to your forehead. He held you in his arms the rest of that night, and you fell asleep peacefully. Probably the first full night of sleep you’d gotten since having the baby.

You knew you’d be okay, though. It didn’t always feel like it, but as long as you had Sylus, you knew it would be okay.

——————

A/N: I wanna write more pregnancy fics. Maybe the next one will be smut 🤫

[dadddybangtan]

Light as A Feather | (m)

pairing: xavier x sylus (starcrow)

content warnings: smut, mdni, boy pussy!xavier, submissive as fuck xavier, daddy dom sylus, sylus calls xav bun/bunny, oral, rough sex, unprotected sex, light bdsm (restraints, humiliation(?), boot riding??)

word count: 2.4k

a.n. inspired by this piece i read the other day by @deadbydad-talks-ships … my brain is completely corrupted by starcrow… this is the dirtiest shit i’ve written in a while… pls enjoy

Xavier was growing quite impatient waiting on Sylus to return from the auction. He was pacing the halls and tapping his feet as he anxiously awaited his arrival. How long does it take to win an auction? he thought to himself.

Usually, Xavier would try to sleep through Sylus’s absences, but he was just too anxious. Maybe it was because Sylus teased a gift for the younger. He pondered about what it could be and even bothered Mephisto for a hint. That damn crow didn’t entertain him at all.

Once eleven forty-five struck on the clock, Xavier decided to pick up his phone and call Sylus. Dialing up the most feared boss in the N-109 Zone was a moody Xavier, pressing the phone to his ear as soon as he reached the front door.

“Yes, bun?” Sylus’s voice was condescending and annoyed, but Xavier didn’t care.

“You said you’d be back by midnight.” Xavier’s airy voice failed to sound the slightest bit threatening.

“But it’s not midnight yet,” Sylus said, “Now is it, bun?”

“No…” Xavier pouted, “But by midnight and at midnight are not the same thing.”

“Awww,” Sylus’s voice rumbled as he drew out that coo, “Are you missing me that much? Can’t even go a few hours without me?”

Xavier’s pout deepened and Sylus could sense it over the phone. “When are you getting back?”

“I’m in the car. I’ll be back soon enough,” Sylus reassured him, “In the meantime, can you go to my office? The one right beside the foyer.”

Xavier looked over his left shoulder and hesitantly opened the door to Sylus’s office. He flicked on the light to reveal the dark themed and rather organized space.

“Look on my desk,” Sylus instructed, “Do you see the white box?”

“Mhm,” Xavier hummed, letting his gaze get lost in the tag with his name on it, “Can I open it?”

“Go ahead.”

Xavier’s heart pounded in his chest as he ran his fingers over the satin lavender bow on the box. He pulled the string to unravel the bow and gently lifted the top of the box. He dipped his hand inside and pulled out a piece of white lacey fabric. There were multiple pieces that followed.

“What is all this?” Xavier asked.

“You’ll see when you put it on, bunny” Sylus chuckled, “I want to see you in it once I get there… And don’t lolligag, you have three minutes.”

Xavier pressed the speaker icon on his cellphone and placed it on the edge of Sylus’s desk before stripping his comfortable clothes. He picked out the creamy white garments and ogled its transparency. He identified lacey stockings and bent over to slip them onto his legs. When he straightened his posture, he looked at the strappy one-piece of lingerie in confusion.

“How am I supposed to put this on?” Xavier asked both Sylus and himself.

“You’ll figure it out… Two minutes.”

Xavier let out a shaky breath before stepping into the complicated piece of clothing. Once he pulled the straps over his shoulder, he understood its aesthetic. Looking down at himself he gasped at the beautiful piece. The embroidered flowers that lined his chest and side were so white, almost blue. The most notable feature on this piece was the lack of coverage on his core, his pretty cunt vulnerable and on display.

“Do you have it on, bun?” Sylus’s voice shocked Xavier out of his trance.

“Y-yes.” Xavier muttered.

“Good… Now go to the front door,” Sylus continued, “Get on the floor and touch yourself for me.”

“W-what?” Xavier asked in shock.

“You heard me, don’t pretend you didn’t.”

Leaving his phone on the desk, Xavier swallowed hard before stepping into the foyer and lowering his body to the floor. The tile was cold below him, but he followed Sylus’s instructions exactly. He timidly spread his legs open as he leaned back on his left elbow. He reached his fingers down and began playing with himself, using the slick from his pussy to pleasure his clit.

Xavier closed his eyes, not only to focus on the sensation he was experiencing but to avoid watching Sylus walk in and see him like this. He was sprawled out and on display for him. It felt so dirty, but it only made him wetter.

The front door creaked open with Sylus coming in from behind it. He dropped his bag on the floor and shut the door behind him with a bang. Xavier’s eyes shot open at the ruckus. Sylus was towering over him, red eyes glazed over with hunger.

“Oh, don’t you look so cute,” Sylus growled, kneeling down between Xavier’s thighs, “Even cuter than I thought you’d look.”

“Really?” Xavier’s breathy voice asked.

“Really,” Sylus licked the folds of Xavier’s wet cunt, causing him to shiver, “And you taste even better.”

Sylus let his tongue play deep into Xavier’s waters, making the man throw his head back in pleasure. Sylus looked up at Xavier and let his eyes scan his beautiful body in that lingerie. He took note of his nicely toned chest rising and falling with the flowery decoration. The way the florals dressed his muscular body made him look so pretty.

Sylus swept his arms under Xavier’s thighs and picked him up with ease. Letting Xavier sit on his arms, Sylus pinned him against the wall nearly six feet off the ground. Xavier threw his hand on the wall for leverage, but he was so breathless from Sylus’s treatment.

“F-fuck,” Xavier’s airy moans filled the air as his free hand gripped Sylus’s hair, “Feels so good~.”

“Worth the wait, bun?” Sylus teased, gritty voice muffled between Xavier’s thighs.

“Mhm,” He hummed, “L-love your mouth~.”

Sylus fixed his lips around Xavier’s plump and throbbing clit, licking and sucking with vigor. Xavier was starting to lose his breath as he moaned and squirmed. The hand that grasped the wall snaked down his neck and his fingers ran over the grooves of the flowers.

Sylus safely dropped Xavier to his feet and pressed his body against the shorter man. Xavier whined at the lack of contact.

“Don’t pout,” Sylus smirked, bringing his fingers to his mouth to feel the wetness Xavier left on him, “You can handle a little break.”

Xavier’s sultry bedroom eyes stayed locked on Sylus as he slid down his body and rested his dripping cunt on the tip of Sylus’s leather boot. He lazily wrapped his hands around Sylus’s strong thigh, slowly grinding his hips and stimulating his clit.

Sylus chuckled darkly followed by a broken inhale before saying, “You’re so needy.”

Xavier had no intention to fight this claim. He was needy. He was desperate for Sylus’s attention.

“Come here,” Sylus said, cupping his hand under Xavier’s chin and prompting him to stand up, “Let daddy take care of you.”

Sylus picked up Xavier with one hand and carried him to his bedroom. He laid him down on the deep red satin sheets and stripped his jacket. Xavier, impatient as ever, messily unbuckled Sylus’s belt and unbuttoned his slacks. Sylus leaned over Xavier with one hand and began unclasping his dress shirt with the other.

“So hard for me,” Xavier whimpered as he palmed Sylus’s bulge.

“Can you blame me,” He said, bringing his mouth to kiss and nip at Xavier’s lips, “Do you want it, bun?”

Xavier nodded with enthusiasm, blue eyes lustrous and submissive. His legs were open and his cunt was waiting just for him. Sylus backed away to properly take off his clothes, revealing his strong, broad figure. Xavier had never gotten used to Sylus’s build, gasping in shock every time he saw his naked body.

Sylus used his hands to grab Xavier’s ankles and drag him to the edge of the bed. He lied his thick, veiny cock on Xavier’s stomach to measure how deep inside he’d be once he penetrated. Xavier reached his hands down and stroked him.

“Are you sure you can take it, bun,” Sylus teased, grunting and groaning at Xavier’s contact, “It's past your belly button.”

“Don’t I always take it?” His voice was needier now, shaky and vulnerable with lust.

“Only because I make you. And you like it,” Sylus lined his leaking tip against the opening of Xavier’s cunt, “So beg for it. Worship this dick.”

“Don’t make me wait anymore.” He whined.

Sylus’s hand found itself on Xavier’s neck. Xavier could feel the pressure and his face went red.

“Keep being a brat and you won’t get it at all.”

Xavier’s eyebrows twitched together in intrigue as he looked up at the other man. This threat made him even more desperate, but part of him absolutely hated begging.

“But I-I need it so bad,” He whispered, “I need you inside me, to make me feel good.”

“Yes?” Sylus pressed on, slowly pushing his cock inside and stretching Xavier’s cunt.

“J-just like that,” He slurred, voice cracking as Sylus’s grip tightened around his throat, “Please, deeper. D-daddy, please.”

With a low growl, Sylus pushed the rest of his length into Xavier and began pounding his pussy at a bruising pace. He moved his hand to the back of his neck to prompt Xavier to look at the way he stroked in and out of him. Sylus’s other hand gripped the side of his hip with the embroidered flowers.

Sylus’s eyes didn’t know where to focus. He could’ve looked at the beautiful lingerie he picked for his partner. He could’ve gazed at the jarring bulge in his stomach that his penetration caused. Instead, he focused on Xavier’s drooling, gaping mouth and low bedroom eyes. With every thrust, his pupils dilated a bit more, his eyelids widened a tad and his head bobbed slightly to the rhythm. His view was perfect.

Xavier wrapped his hand around Sylus’s arm that held his neck in place. He tried his best to stay focused, but each invigorated thrust blurred his vision little by little. He wanted to revel in the way Sylus’s eyes adorned every inch of his body. Airy moans and curses slipped from his wet lips as Sylus fucked into him. Xavier’s free hand explores the grooves of his abdomen in attempts to stay grounded in this session. Once Sylus’s thumb stretches over from his hip to his clit, Xavier’s vision blurred completely.

“Stay focused, bunny,” Sylus groaned, strokes getting harder and messier, “Look at me, look at daddy.”

Xavier blinked his pretty eyes a few times to recenter his focus on Sylus. His hand gripped his shoulder, fingertips digging deeply into his flesh.

“T-too much.” Xavier whimpered, cunt squeezing and contracting around Sylus’s cock.

“Do you want me to stop?” Sylus asked through gritted teeth.

Xavier shook his head as his back arched off of the bed.

“Then take it. Be a good boy and take it.” Sylus said sternly, leaning down to kiss Xavier’s lips.

Xavier’s squirming and breathing nearly lost control, but Sylus kept a firm hold on him. Xavier’s broken moans rose to a crescendo when his cunt squirted slick juices all over the other man’s cock. Sticky, wet sounds echoed through the room as he came undone and Sylus refused to stop.

“That’s my boy,” Sylus cooed before using his strength to turn Xavier on his stomach, “So pretty and taking everything I give you.”

Xavier was breathless and at a loss for words, his cunt still squirting out cum from his orgasm. Sylus, frustrated with Xavier’s silence, grabbed his wrists and restrained them in his hands behind his back.

“Say thank you.” Sylus growled.

“Th-thank you~.” His used, fucked out voice managed to say.

“Thank you what?” His grip tightened on his wrists, causing Xavier to melt.

“Thank you, d-daddy.” He whimpered.

“So good,” Sylus groaned, slowly pushing his throbbing cock into his pussy again, “Can you make daddy cum, huh? Can you be a good bunny and make me cum?”

“Mhm.” Xavier whimpered once more. Surely, his brain was nothing but mush.

Sylus snapped into him mercilessly, sweat coating his body and plastering his hair to his forehead. The hand that wasn’t holding Xavier’s wrists hostage was pushing his head into the mattress and muffling his whines. He was using Xavier's body for his pleasure and both of them loved every moment of it.

Xavier’s pussy was wet and blossoming with pleasure, driving Sylus to chase his orgasm with fierce determination. His thrusts grew more tired and messy as his release was approaching. Xavier could feel it too, whimpering and becoming more needy for it. Sylus pumped his hot, sticky cum into Xavier’s walls with a few more messy thrusts.

Sylus released his tight hold on Xavier’s wrists and, without pulling out, leaned down to rest his head in the nape of the other's neck. Sylus planted messy kisses on Xavier’s back between shaky and uneven breaths. He snaked his hands up Xavier’s arms and shoulders, caressing him gently and he placed more sloppy kisses on his skin.

Xavier’s eyes were closed, but a small, content smile graced his lips as his body went limp. Sylus noticed this and slowly eased his dick out of the other, causing him to whine at the gaping space he left inside him.

Sylus scooped up Xavier in his arms and carried him to the bathroom. He sat him on top of the counter before running the bath water. Xavier struggled to support himself on the counter without Sylus’s help. As the tub filled with warm water, Sylus gently slipped off the lingerie he gifted Xavier.

“Did you like the piece?” Sylus asked as he tossed the white floral garment onto the floor.

“It’s beautiful, thank you.” Xavier’s voice couldn’t get louder than a whisper and Sylus caressed his cheek lovingly.

Sylus helped Xavier sit in the tub and he followed, letting his back rest on his chest.

“Do you enjoy your time here?” Sylus asked, cupping water in his hands and pouring it over Xavier’s shoulders.

“I do,” Xavier whispered in earnest, “I don’t get to be like this as a hunter in Linkon.”

“Then I hope you’ll keep spending your weekends here,” Sylus said as his lips grazed the skin on his neck, “You light up the N-109 Zone with your presence.”

Xavier melted into his touch and turned his head to meet Sylus’s lips, joining in a kiss as soft as a feather.

[dadddybangtan]

ouch

[ is that angst I smell? The menu for tonight offers the LADS boys and how they are post-breakup with you! yum! the reason for the break-up is open bc it's besides the point. Also, how do we feel about this layout? ]

Rafayel

Now playing: The cut that always bleeds by Conan Gray

Part of him had always expected this to happen. The ugly and resentful side of his heart that never believed in the so called "love" you held for him after the horrible things he went through and in the end he was proven right.

How many more reincarnations would he have to live through until you finally learned to love him? Or maybe this was his punishment for sacrificing the lives of his own people for someone who won't even look his way.

Personally, I don't think he's a weak, whiny baby most people describe him as. I firmly believe Rafayel can be resentful and angry, he just keeps it hidden so you won't see it. This time however? Oh you're seeing all the sides of him.

He wouldn't ever hurt you, absolutely not, but he will raise his voice when he questions why you were doing this to him, why were you forsaking him again, when he's given you everything he possibly could.

"Why is it never enough for you?! Why is it so damn hard for me to be enough for you?! Answer me!" The tears streaming down his face are something he doesn't even realize until his eyes begin to sting. How many centuries has it been since he had last cried?

For months he'd stay locked inside his studio and no one is allowed to visit, not even his aunt is able to help. The paintings he had of you were all ruined but Rafayel still found himself sketching your face like clockwork each time he stood in front of an empty canvas.

He feels angry, betrayed and he's just so, so hurt. I believe that depending on the reason behind the breakup it could very well be his last straw and will lead to him returning to the sea for good.

One day he's just gone without a trace and he's never coming back.

-----------------------------⁠☆⁠⁠☆⁠⁠☆⁠------------------------

Xavier

Now playing: The loneliest by Måneskin

He can't believe this is happening. Like, you choosing to break up with him was never even an option in his mind. Xavier would immediately assume it was his fault and beg for you to let him try and fix whatever went wrong.

His entire world shatters when you walk out the door and somehow it hurts so much more than when he held you in his arms as life left your body.

For months he would take part of the same missions you did, visit the same spaces, take the same train and do anything he could to be apart of your life. The silence between the two of you is suffocating but, surprisingly, Xavier is the one who makes the effort to make conversation about even the simplest of things.

His emotional state would completely drain him. He is so exhausted but he can't sleep at all. Not when he knows you chose to not be by his side.

Nevertheless, Xavier would keep trying, trying and trying and then some more. He brings you things he tried to cook in hope it'll make you smile the same way it did before only to end up throwing it away in a bin after you declined it.

Eventually his exhaustion would catch up to him and lead to a fatal mistake while out in a mission. He is stubborn, but there is only so much he can do when his own body is running into the ground.

"Can you see the sky from where you are?" He would ask during a call you received in the middle of the night in which, unknown to you, would be the last time you ever heard his voice. To Xavier however, he was relived he was able to hear your voice while under the same sky one last time.

-----------------------------⁠☆⁠⁠☆⁠⁠☆⁠------------------------

Zayne

Now playing: Promise by Laufey

The breakup itself is so quiet and calm. The two of you discussed things and he accepted it. Zayne would always, always, respect your choices. If being by his side was not something you wanted then he will let you go without any claw marks.

It was too awkward to be around each other so what follows are weeks of radio silence. He throws himself into his work, but he can't find the focus to properly do his job. His mind always go back to you— Were you okay? Were you thinking of him at all? Were you eating and sleeping well? Who was by your side now?

He breaks the no contact rule first to check on you and although he isn't sure if what he feels is genuine relief when he sees you doing well at least that's...closure. You're happy and healthy, even without him, and he couldn't ask for more than that.

Zayne feels as if everything around him turned dull and grey. His heart frozen in time after you left and he is nothing more than a husk that functions on autopilot until his body breaks down.

He feels cold regardless of the temperature now that you're not here and he believes it is what it is. He tried, he truly did his absolute best, but he can't take away from your happiness.

The two of you will return to being friends after a while and he will continue to support and care for you like he always did. To you, the moments you shared will soon be forgotten while Zayne he will forever remain frozen in those warm memories.

-----------------------------⁠☆⁠⁠☆⁠⁠☆⁠------------------------

Sylus

Now playing: The Moon will sing by The Crave Wives

His hands gently cradle your face as he asks you to please talk to him because there's nothing he wouldn't do for you. Except sometimes there are are things he simply can't do and that's something he would be forced to accept.

Sylus would ask to keep contact even if it's just for the sake of business and uses any and every excuse to see you or hear your voice. If he can't be wanted then he will be needed and if he can't be needed then he is okay with being used as long as it's by your hands.

In truth, he wouldn't ever give you up regardless if you fell for someone else or years pass. He will be frustrated and hurt at times, but he can be patient. He will wait until it's his turn to be deserving of your heart again.

Though that does not mean he will do absolutely nothing. Sylus would tell you every day that he still loves you and it doesn't matter what you say because he won't ever feel disencouraged.

"I'm not expecting anything or pressuring you. I'm only reminding you that my love for you won't change even if you're not by my side." His voice is like a gentle coo as his hand comes to pat your head, playfully ruffling your hair so you would drop the serious expression on your pretty face.

-----------------------------⁠☆⁠⁠☆⁠⁠☆⁠------------------------

Caleb

Now playing: In my room by Julia Wolf

The biggest CRASH out.

First, he knows you want to break up before you even gather up the courage to bring it up and he finds a way to stop you from saying it every. single. time.

"Caleb I think—" "Oh! I completely forgot! I got these tickets to the show you wanted to go! C'mon, c'mon! We'll be late!"

He is in strong denial after you finally manage to say it. He'd claim you're just confused about things and that it'll pass as long as you give it some time because you don't truly mean it. You need him, how could you ever think otherwise?

He will keep calling and texting you non-stop— He begs you to talk to him and rethink your choice. You're obviously making a mistake so please stop this already.

It would take a lot to make him stop. Unless you had an ironclad reason to not come back to him then he would keep going. When he does stop though? Oof.

Caleb could only endure the torture and damage done to him mentally and physically all those years because you were his anchor. His entire life is centered around you and now that you're gone he'd lose all of his motivation.

The last time you hear from him is through the news you'd receive about the colonel who took his own life.

"Please keep me close to your heart." Your eyes read the words on the letter while your other hand clutched the necklace he left for you. Would you grant him this one last, selfish wish of his?

[dadddybangtan]

Let Me Prove Myself to You

Pairing: Dom!Kai x gf!reader

Warnings: Mean dom!Kai, virgin!reader, bondage, orgasm control/denial, corruption kink, fingering, pussy spanking, dacryphilia, blow job/face fucking, slight spit kink, hair pulling, choking, breast/nipple play, name calling/pet names, degradation, anything else I missed, MDNI

A/N: First Kai fic!!! I’m kinda nervous to post this bc I can’t tell if it’s good or not, but I hope you guys enjoy it!! 🫶

Wc: 5k

Damn

Kai can’t take his eyes off your ass as he walks you to your apartment. He purposely walks a few steps behind so you don’t notice him staring. It’s not his fault though, how can he not when your ass just looks so good in that skirt?

Begrudgingly, he averts his eyes, feeling a bit guilty for thinking of his sweet innocent girlfriend in such a way. You aren’t exactly naive, but you have way less experience than Kai and he doesn’t want to expose you to such obscene things.

You’ve been dating for only a few weeks now, although you’ve been pining for each other for much longer, and as much as Kai wants to ravage his cute girlfriend, he feels guilty for his dirty thoughts. You’re so trusting and sweet, he feels bad subjecting you to his nasty fantasies. He also doesn’t want you to feel forced; a sweet thing like you will agree to anything he says with little persuasion.

As you guys enter your apartment and get settled in, you suggest getting started on your homework. A sudden laugh from Kai puts a pout on your face.

“If we get our assignments out of the way we can relax sooner!”

In your room the two of you sit down at the study table where you pull out your pencils and notebooks, but Kai leans back in the chair with his arms folded behind his head. From your peripheral vision you notice his shirt lift up. You try your hardest to ignore that smooth patch of skin, ignoring the way it makes your body tingle. God, you wanna fuck him so bad. If only he’d stop treating you like glass.

Aside from a few pecks, some heated make outs, and lingering hands, Huening never takes it farther, he claims that you’re just “not ready yet”. But the patience in you has run out. Slowly, gathering whatever confidence you can, you get up and sit down on his lap. A startled Kai looks up at you, a blush seeping over his skin. It’s not often his sweet angel is this bold. Your lips meet his in a soft kiss. “Kai” you whine, “need you”. His hands find your hips as he quickly gives in, kissing your lips gently. You guys make out for a while, sucking each other's plush lips as you slowly grind down on him.

His lips are so soft, like jelly, and his hands slide down your back making your heart stutter. He's so pretty and hot and he makes you feel like putty and god you just wanna- out of nowhere he pulls away. You’re sitting there dazed and breathing heavily as Kai squeezes your hips in warning, “I think that’s enough”. This usually means he’s gonna make some lame excuse to go home, but you know very well that when he gets home he’s gonna deal with his boner privately. You huff in annoyance. Why can’t he just use his girlfriend who’s so eager for him?

“Kai. Please.” , Summoning all your courage you mumble, “I wanna have sex”.

He sucks in a breath at that, where’s all this boldness coming from? Little does he know you’ve had enough of the beating around the bush. You need him to stuff your pussy already.

“B-but your not-

“Ready yet” you finish his sentence with a dramatic eye roll. “That's what you think but I’m telling you I am. Why do you say things like that anyways? Do you just not wanna be with me?”

He looks at your furrowed eyebrows, the pleading eyes and fights the urge to fuck you raw right then and there. You make it so hard for him to use his head. “No! No that’s not it. I love you and of course I wanna be with you it’s just-” he breaks off with a frustrated sigh, and the blush comes back to his cheeks, finding it a little embarrassing to admit…. “I…. I just don’t think you can handle me”. He swings his head back to stare at the ceiling, anything to avoid your gaze.

You’re not stupid. You know what people say about him; the rumors that he’s a monster in bed. That he’s cute and sweet on the surface but there’s a mean wildness that he hides. Even his own friends joke about it in front of you. Saying stuff like “good luck”, but you don’t mind these things. If anything, these rumors about Kai excite you, you crave it, even.

“I can handle it!” You insist. Kai brings his head back to look you in the eyes, “I don’t think you understand what I’m trying to say.”

“No, I don't think you understand what I’m trying to say. You think I don’t know anything but I’m not dumb!” Before you say more his hand comes up to grab you by the jaw. “I don’t think you’re dumb but you’re a fucking virgin for godsake. Knowing about something and experiencing it are two different things. You have no idea what you’re actually getting yourself into, and I don't want to corrupt you.”

The intensity and warning in his eyes makes you squirm in his lap. All that kissing plus this glimpse into the real Kai making your pussy wet. Biting your lip, you fight to keep composure.

“I know exactly what I’m getting myself into! I'm also not as innocent as you think I am! You can’t make decisions for me, especially when you won’t even let me prove myself to you. At least give me a chance to show you that I can handle it.”

At this point you’re still heaving, hands clinging to his broad shoulders as you study his face. The intensity in his eyes is still there and it’s doing nothing to relieve the ache in your underwear. His hands hang off the arm rest but your body tingles in the places you wish his hands were instead.

Kai really wants to say no, he means what he said about knowing about something being different than actually doing it. But fuck, his adorable little girlfriend is so eager and ready for him, maybe he should give it a try? And to make matters worse, you’re sitting right on his dick, it’s really clouding up his brain.

He finally speaks after a minute, “you really wanna do this?”

You almost jump out of your skin, “Yes! I do! I promise I can do it!!”

Huening chews his lip in contemplation. “Fine”, he grabs you by the jaw again, “but if we’re gonna do this you have to be able to take everything I give you- and I mean everything- without complaining. And if you can't do it then that’s that.”

You scoff at his threat, “What do you mean by that? We just won’t ever have sex?”

“No, we will. But it’ll be the most boring vanilla sex.” His hands trails down your neck, nails digging into soft flesh. “I don’t mind locking up a part of myself if it means you’ll be happy and safe.”

“Well that’s not gonna happen”, you retort, “cuz I’m gonna prove it to you”.

And as much as he wants to argue, he can’t help being proud at your insistence.

“On your knees”

“H-huh?”, You sputter. The sudden command and change in tone startling. But he only raises a taunting eyebrow, smirking as he says, “already too much for you?”

“N-no!” You scrambled to get on your knees before him, hands neatly placed on your knees, watching as he calmly unzips his jeans. It’s like he flipped a switch; the cute and sweet Kai gone. Your already damp underwear sticking uncomfortably to your pussy. Finally, you get to meet the part of Kai that he’s been hiding from you.

He pulls his dick out, giving it a few pumps and all you can do is stare. You’ve never actually seen his dick before…and now it’s right in front of your face….and…he's big. A little too late to realize that but damn.

“Go ahead” he urges.

As embarrassing as it is, you don’t actually know what you’re doing. But you have been watching videos so you think back to what you’ve learned and reach for Kai. You tentatively wrap a hand around him, biting your lips at the way Kai groans.

You try your hardest to recall what you learned from all those porn videos; first smearing the precum leaking from his tip with your thumb, then giving his tip a soft kiss before going in for a lick.

“Fuck, where’d you learn that?” As far as Huening was aware all you know how to do was kiss. His head spins, maybe you really do know more than you let on.

“I’ve been watching videos.” You chirp excitedly, “I wanna make you feel good!” When his dick is wet enough you slowly ease down, taking as much of it as you can, but you only get about half way before you’re gagging and coughing and have to pull away.

Kai slides his fingers into your hair- he doesn’t do anything at first- just lightly massaging your scalp. “Fuck, baby, you’re so sweet. Almost makes me feel bad for what I’m about to do to you.” Before you can respond he shoves you back down on his cock, laughing at the way you struggle. He pulls you up by your hair and allows you to take a breath. His big hand shoves your right back down, this time he thrust into your mouth a few times. When he brings you back up you’re gasping for air with tears falling from your eyes.

“Too much?” He taunts. But as he leans forward his other hand comes to wipe the tears away. The hungry look on his face morphs into one of sincerity and love as he says, “just tell me to stop and I will.”

But you won’t. You’d be out of your mind to not want this. Yeah, it’s a little more than you were expecting but, shit, it’s everything you’ve ever wanted. You’re hot as fuck boyfriend, sculpted to perfection by the universe, using you in the best way possible. If only he could see how wet your pussy is right now.

You assure Kai you’re fine and get back to work, giving kitten licks here and there while you pump the base. “What am I gonna do with you?” Kai moans. He throws his head back, staring at the ceiling. You don't realize it but his dirty fantasies are coming to life before him, his angel girlfriend on her knees before him, begging to be used like a toy, so eager to please and be ruined.

He leans forwards again and pulls you off his dick. “Open.” He orders. You’re a little dazed from the cock in front of you but you manage to part your lips. He spits in your mouth and brings your right back to his dick, relishing in the way you gag. A few more thrusts and he pulls you off for good, pulling his pants up and ordering you to get in the bed.

From your spot on the bed you observe your boyfriend rummaging through your closet. He seems to be going through the tool box kept behind your clothes for emergencies. The longer you wait the more your insides twist around each other; what could he possibly be looking for? The realization hits that you don’t actually know what he’s gonna do. The rumors you've heard were all vague, never providing details regarding what Kai’s capable of, and you’ve never thought farther than just convincing him to have sex.

What’s he gonna do to you?

Your pussy throbs at the thought, the dainty pink underwear you're wearing is soaked in your wetness. And the lack of attention to that area is making you fidgety. Kai finally finds what he's looking for, but when he makes his way to the bed your heart stutters in your chest and the butterflies in your tummy go wild. As much as you trust Kai, you gulp at the various pieces of rope in his hands. "What's that for?" You ask tentatively. So desperate for attention you don't know how much more of the teasing and games you can take, but you can't let Kai discover how close you are to breaking.

"I think you know what it's for." Kai smirks. He sits down beside you and leisurely ties your limbs to the bedposts. Despite the mean look in his eyes, Kai ensures the ropes aren't too tight; it makes your heart flutter...it also makes something else flutter. Especially when Kai places himself between your knees and drags a finger over your underwear underneath your skirt. The contact makes you whine, so soft and barely there.

"Been wanting to do this for so long", he murmurs. Pushing your underwear aside he runs his finger through your folds, collecting your wetness on his fingers. He smears it over lips and watches with a predatory gaze as you instinctively lick it all up.

"The things I wanna do to you.."

You whimper at his words, the way he said them…. you’re suddenly afraid that maybe you won't be able to handle what he has planned for you. He slips his finger into your gummy walls and both of you moan at the feeling.

“So wet, just for me.” The slow drag back and forth of his finger makes you writhe against your sheets. You tug at the ropes in an effort to cope with this new feeling, and the tugging provides a nice contrast to the feeling between your legs. Your whimpers fill the room along with Kai’s hums of approval. “My pretty baby..” he coos, his other hand gripping your thigh, “no one’s ever touched you here before, hm?”

“No…” you manage a whisper. His finger continues to curve inside you deliciously, occasionally brushing against that spot that makes you see stars.

The whines slipping from your mouth become more and more agitated and needy. It feels like falling, like you’re losing control over your body. Your wrists and ankle are red now from all the pulling and squirming you’re doing.

But Kai only laughs, “pathetic. Falling apart over just one finger. Fucking slut.”

You gasp at that word, slut, he’s never used names like that. More wetness leaks from your pussy, coating Kai’s other fingers. He pulls out of your hole, earning another whine from you, and shoves three fingers into your mouth. As you suck and lick them he shoves them farther down your throat, making you cough and choke. He takes his hand away, this time bringing them down to slap your soaked and sensitive pussy. You jerk froward with a yelp, the ropes digging painfully against your skin.

His hand comes down to give 1, 2, 3 more slaps, leading you to squeal and sob while a tear slips from your eye at the overwhelming sensation.

“Kai!”

“Too much?” He feigns concern, bringing the hand covered in your wetness to massage your thigh, smearing your mess all over the skin there.

You force yourself to take a breath, “No.”

If you’re being honest it is a little too much to take in all at once, however, you can’t back out now. You made such a fuss about it earlier, you'd never hear the end of it from Kai if you didn't succeed.

Kai pulls up your top and palms your boobs through your bra. The new sensation makes you groan; he's never touched you like this before, usually so polite and careful. You need to prove to him you can take everything so he'll always touch you like this. Shoving your bra down he grabs a boob in one hand as he licks and sucks the other one. A gasp falls from your mouth at the sensation; the way his teeth graze your nipple and the way he moves his mouth like a starved man amplifies the ache between your legs.

Simultaneously, he pinches your other nipple and without warning shoves two fingers back into you, pumping them rapidly, giving you no time to adjust.

"Kai!" Your scream is music to his ears. Your helpless body squirms beneath him as his fingers pump in and out of your pussy without mercy.

You lay there taking it, and wail, "I'm gonna cum!"

"No."

Your heart drops hearing that word, "What do you mean no?" His fingers ram so deliciously in and out of you. It's hard to focus on his words. Maybe you heard him wrong?

"W-what do you mean?"

“What, so fucked out you can’t follow a simple order? I mean no, you can’t cum.” His words drip in malice, seeping into your hazy brain and causing the walls of your pussy to clench around his fingers. He senses you dropping your resolve, shoving his fingers even faster, just to torture you some more. He brings his lips back to your nipple, humming as you wince when he nips and licks.

“Cum and you lose; and I’ll know that you can’t handle me.”

The sob that gets goes straight to his dick. He pulls away from your boobs and sits back on his knees to look at your worn out figure, his fingers still pumping in you. Ropes pulled taught as you fight your orgasm, tears running down your neck, pretty moans, rosy cheeks and desperate eyes. Such a pretty sight.

You’re doing better than Huening Kai expected, he expected you to give up at the “no cumming” part. His smirk grows as he plans all the dirty thoughts he’s gonna bring to life if you actually win this thing, he hasn’t even scratched the surface yet. But to focus on the present, he decides you’ve suffered enough. “You wanna cum, princess?” You nod enthusiastically, “Please!” Your thighs shake with tension, trying to keep it together a little longer and ignoring the way Kai’s laugh travels down your spine.

“Eager whore. Go ahead, cum.”

Loud pornographic moans pour from your throat as Kai’s fingers hit that perfect spot and your orgasm finally washes over you. Your body jerks and spasms as the waves engulf you, tight ropes digging into your skin, the only thing keeping you grounded- well, that and Kai’s hands on you.

Coming down from your high, you’re left a whimpering mess. The sight of you is a wet dream that Kai never wants to wake up from. He lets out a hum of approval while massaging your thighs, “such a pretty princess, did so well.” You whimper at his praise, your hole fluttering at the wicked look on his face.

“Now I just need you to cum two more times for me.” He snickers.

“What?!” You must have heard him wrong... The red marks on your limbs burn. Your pussy is red too, and swollen just like your nipples. “Cum two more times? But I-i can’t- I-” you cut yourself off, huffing and puffing at your helplessness.

You bite your lip when you realize what you almost said.

"Can't what?” Kai taunts with a smug smile, “Can't take it? Can’t handle it? Can't do anything but lay there all fucked out and dumb.” Your lips quiver against your will as you attempt to defend yourself, “N-no, I can-”. But he cuts you off, “What a cute, pathetic whore, acting like you still have choice. You will take everything I give you, it’s too late to back out now.” Goosebumps break out over your skin and you search for your sweet Kai behind the wicked haze in his eyes, but you realize it doesn't matter; he's your Kai, and you trust him completely.

His fingers trail down your thigh and over your folds, you gasp when they brush your sensitive bud. Gently, he pushes down, knowing damn well it’s gonna overstimulate you, and relishes at the way you whine. After torturing you some more, he scoops up your cum with his fingers and fucks it back into your hot pussy. He massages your slick walls, taking his time exploring your pussy for the second time.

He lowers himself over you again, this time planting a soft kiss on your lips and another on your tear-stained cheek, a stark contrast to the sinful things he was doing earlier. The feeling doesn’t last long however, because he brings his other hand back to roughly squeeze your boobs. His lips, deceivingly sweet, make their way down to harshly nip and suck the delicate skin of your neck. Fresh tears fall down your face at the overstimulation.

You sniffle, trying your best to stifle a whine, “K-Kai..”. But he simply bites harder on your neck, smiling against your skin. As his fingers find a steady rhythm you feel your second orgasm approaching, much faster this time. “Kai! I’m gonna cum again!” He continues kissing your skin like he can’t even hear you. The only clue of acknowledgement is in how rough he gets; recklessly sucking hickies that are sure to leave a mark, kneading your breasts, pinching your nipple until you cry out.

“Baby!” You scream out urgently as your back arches. Kai groans into your skin, not bothering to lift his head, “So loud, you want the whole apartment building to know what a slut you are?”

“Kai, please, I’m gonna cum I-i- can’t-” take it anymore… the words almost slip past your lips again in your exertion. You gnaw on your lips, praying he didn’t notice, but unfortunately for you, he does.

“What was that, princess?” He taunts, “Wanna say it again?”

“N-no.” You sob. As Huening continues pumping his fingers in you he licks a hot tear streaming down your neck. The tension in your thighs makes them tremble, your whole body is on fire.

“You wanna cum?” He asks against your neck.

You cry out a “Yes!”, not caring how desperate and eager you sound.

Kai grins, “Then beg for it. Convince me that you deserve to cum."

You don’t need much encouragement from him; the pleas falling readily from your quivering lips. If Kai tried to stop you from cumming again you were gonna beg for mercy anyways.

"Please, Kai!", you shriek, "Let me c-cum, please, I've been so good! I took everything without complaining!"

He pretends to give it some thought. "Mm, not good enough." He says simply. So simply, like he's reading a random sentence, like he's not actively ruining you. "No! Please, baby! I-i really need this, I'm gonna die if you don't let me cum. I've been such a good girl-" Your voice cracks at the end as you sob, shutting your eyes tight as you force yourself not to feel his fingers hitting that magical spot. "Such a good girl", you repeat desperately, "And all for you, only for you". This seems to make Kai's ears perk up. "All for me?", He coos, "Such a clever whore, you know just what to say to get what you want, hm?"

You're so focused on not cumming but you force yourself to respond, "N-no, Kai, I m-mean it". "Yeah, baby?", he taunts, "You poor thing. Go on, cum for me."

You finally give in to your orgasm with a groan, each wave hitting you harder than the last. The bliss is almost blinding as your eyes roll back and your wet, hot pussy flutters around Kai's fingers. To your shock, Huening Kai gives you gentle kisses all over your chest, his hand that was roughly palming your boobs now wiping the tears from your cheek. He even eases the pace of his fingers in your cunt, helping you ride out your high.

But just as you start to relax, Kai brings his hand down to slap your cunt again. "Kai!" The shriek slips right past your lips in surprise and you fight to keep your body still, but you're overstimulated and your body completely drained.

"P-please..."

Kai raises his eyebrows mockingly, wondering if you're finally gonna admit defeat. He pouts as he asks coyly, "Something wrong? Want me to stop?" He doesn't even wait for your reply as he slaps you again.

You tremble underneath him, pretending you can't hear the embarrassing squelching sound when his hand meets your dripping pussy. His touch feels so good though, you need him inside you. "Please.." You sniffle, "I-i need you."

"Aw, my pretty baby needs me? What do you need me to do?" His fingers trail across your clit, soft brushes that make you lose your mind. His tone drips in false concern, you can see it in the way his eyes narrow as he watches you. Your mouth goes dry. Something about his eyes seem different, as if a new fire sparked in them, a fire different from what was burning before.

He watches you carefully, noticing the change in your demeanor....noticing the fear on your face. He leans down to press his plush lips to your neck to hide his growing smirk. When he comes back up his clean hand slowly wraps around your neck as his other hand continues toying with your red and swollen pussy. Kai squeezes your neck just enough to see the alarm spread through your features.

A dear in headlights, he thinks fondly.

He gives another squeeze, "I asked a question, baby. I thought you had more manners than this, tch."

"I-...I need y-" You break off with a shaky breath as he applies more pressure to your throat. Your head spins and you give up with a quiet whine.

It's true that there's a new fire burning in Kai. Watching you squirm and whine and fall apart on his fingers has him losing his mind. All he can think about is filling you up with his dick, he's waited so long for this moment.

He quickly pulls away to untie the ropes, he doesn't want you tied up for your first time.

When the ropes are finally gone he searches his wallet for a condom and then joins you back on the bed. Leaning down, pressing all his weight into you, he asks, "Are you sure you wanna do this?" You let out a broken sob at his question, "Yes. I need you to fuck me so bad."

He quickly gets rid of his shirt and pulls his pants down just enough to roll on the condom. Since your hands are no longer bound you can finally touch the smooth skin along his body. You decide to wrap your hands around his biceps, feeling the way his muscles tense. You both moan when he rubs his dick up and down your soaked pussy.

"Fuck", he curses. As he slowly nudges his tip farther, more curses fall from his pretty lips. You whimper and whine, throwing your head against the pillows as his dick stretches you open, the pain hurts so good. Your nails dig into his skin as he finally bottoms out with a low groan. "Pretty baby", he sighs as his head drops to your shoulder, "so tight for me".

It takes everything in him to be still as he waits for you to get accustomed to his size. When you finally tell him to go on he bites the skin at the base of your neck as he slowly thrusts in and out. "Kai!" You moan. As your back arches he slips his arm underneath, keeping your tummies pressed closely. His other hand roughly grabs under your thigh.

He moans in your ear, going crazy from how your pussy clenches around him, "Gonna fuck you.. 'til you can't walk". Little by little his hips start rocking into you faster as he gives into his darkest desires. The sounds you're making aren't helping; loud high pitched screams that you don't even try to stifle. The neighbors are gonna be sick of you two.

"Kai, p-please faster!" you beg, already fucked out of your mind. The way is dick is pumping in and out of you is making you see stars. Kai on the other hand needs no encouragement, he quickens his pace, pounding into you until you're a crying sobbing mess.

He pulls away from your neck to look at your fucked out state, "Such a good slut", he can't control the groan he lets out. He watches your boobs bounce around and the way you cling to him, his hips erratically slamming against yours. He had planned on torturing you some more, to make a desperate, ruined whore out of you but right now he's so drunk off you he can't even think straight. There's always next time, he decides.

"Kai I'm gonna cum!" You sob. A particular rough thrust makes you shriek, and your walls tighten around him. This time he doesn't try to stop you, "Me too, baby. Cum with me."

After a few sloppy thrusts your orgasms hit you at the same time, and both of you are a mess as you unravel at the feeling. Kai finds your lips and kisses you lovingly as you ride out your orgasms together.

When the high finally subsides, you’re still heaving, trying to recover. He gives you one final kiss before he flops down beside you. And despite your fatigue and the fact that you can hardly feel your legs, you excitedly roll over to his side, "See?! I told you I could handle it!!!"

He laughs at that, "Yeah, barely." You're so giddy with excitement you don't even mind his teasing. You just roll your eyes and go to cuddle him. 

…

[dadddybangtan]

Use Me Instead [Choi Beomgyu]

Summary: He can’t help it, bucking his hips into the pillow just feels so freaking good to him, the soft pressure enough to get him over the edge every night. But he hasn’t told you, and when you come home from work early one night, catching him in the act, it seems inevitable that you will find out. genre: smut Warnings: pillow humping, dacryphilia, dry humping, hair pulling (m receiving), unprotected sex, reader calls him ‘baby’, ‘good boy’, ‘Gyu’, and ‘my Gyu,’ it’s not mentioned but they’re both virgins, cockwarming, breeding kinda?, mentions of future voyeurism and exhibitionism, not proofread word count: 1.2k an: repost from my old acc for gyus bday <33

The pillow between his legs is familiar, comfortable, a calm, pleasured feeling rushing over his body as his hips slowly rut into it. 

He starts his pace slow, not bothering to muffle his moans with the pillow by his head. He knows you’re at work, and will be for at least another hour or so. Since you work the late shift, he’s managed to keep his secret, well, a secret.

It’s not like he thinks you’ll leave him if you discover what he does at night. No, that’s not it. But he’s not exactly sure what it is that makes him keep it secret. Maybe it’s just his ritual, a little dirty thing he does every night.

The thoughts leave his head as his hips continue. He’s on his stomach in the bed, the pressure between his legs is heavier this way. He has to do less when he’s in this position. Just a slow, rocking back-and-forth that stays steady right until the very end.

Soft little whimpers leave his lips, the silent night amplifying the sound. Tears wet the sheet beneath him as his pace quickens, almost frantic against the pillow. He can’t help but think of you, how you’d look on top of him, bouncing on him, how it would look to watch his dick disappear and you over and over again. He knows that he is so, so dirty for thinking these things. You two haven’t even done it yet, yet here he is, thinking of how it’d sound to hear his name falling from your lips, how it’d feel to be able to give you the pleasure that you need.

It’s these thoughts that tip him off the deep end, furiously thrusting his hips forward, the rub delicious and welcome.

He’s so, so close to cumming, when the door clicks open and he stops, caught like a deer in headlights. He freezes like pretending to be asleep will help just in case you already saw. The blanket is tucked over his legs so you can’t see how the pillow is pressed against him, and you lay yourself next to him, turning to face him.

You can tell he’s not asleep, his breathing a little too ragged, but admire how his lashes fan out against his cheeks. “Baby?” You whisper, lips a few inches from his, so close he can feel your words on his skin. “Are you awake?”

He nods slightly, eyes still shut, and you coo. “Awh, Gyu… you’re so cute.”

Beomgyu’s cheeks flush in the darkness, the sound of your voice coaxing a reaction from him that’s almost embarrassing, he risks a slight movement into the pillow. 

You notice the tiny jolt his hips do, innocently snuggling your head under the blanket to get a peek at what’s going on.

You’re met with a sight that makes you smirk, face hidden by the blanket, and Beomgyu lets out a gasp when you run a hand over the bulge in his sweats.

“I- I can't!…” he stutters your name out, too flustered by you both noticing his position and your hands on him. You hum in a question, and he shakes his head, eyes falling closed. “N-no, keep going, please…”

A smirk tugs at the edges of your lips again, you gently part his legs, the pillow hitting the ground before you’re in between his legs, thigh pressed against the imprint of his dick clear through his pants.

“Use me instead,” you instruct, voice a coo in his ear. Beomgyu’s heart is racing, but he doesn’t dare disobey, too lost in need for his own pleasure anyways.

He slowly rocks his hips against your thigh, the friction of his pants against his dick making him whimper slightly. 

The feeling of him pressed against you makes a throbbing sensation start in your pussy, and when his pace increases, you really can’t take it, your fingers trail to your clit, pressing circles, your body jolting in response.

Beomgyu’s cries of pleasure in your ear let you know he’s getting close, and you take your thigh away, a whine leaving his lips. “Please, don’t stop, ‘m so close…”

You don’t answer, fumbling to remove your pants, then his and his boxers. You don’t even bother taking off your panties, just sliding them to the side before kissing him fervently. “Gyu, need you inside,” you murmur against his lips, threading a hand through his hair.

A throaty noise of agreement is all you get in response, and you waste no time, pumping him in your fist twice before lowering yourself down. His tip grows your entrance, your thighs trembling in pleasure, and he can’t help but buck his hips up against yours, coaxing soft moans to bubble up from his lips.

You allow you both to adjust to this new position before slowly moving up and down, thighs burning from the effort. His name falls from your mouth repeatedly, your lips pressed to his neck, your grip tightening on his hair. Beomgyu’s body jolts in a response to your touch, tears pricking his eyes.

“Can you go a little faster for me, Gyu?” You request, your fingers moving to his arm, squeezing his bicep lightly.

His tall, slender frame trembles beneath you at your words, but his speed quickens, whimpers of pleasure leaving him.

You hum in approval, fingers tugging at his hair again. “Such a good boy, my Gyu…”

A small squeak escapes his lips at the name, incoherent whispers pressed to the side of your neck. They grow louder until you can hear him clearly, and within your own fog of pleasure, you smirk again.

“Say it again, please…” Beomgyu begs, eyes squeezed shut and his hands tight on your waist, quickening your speed.

“Say what?” You tease, threading your fingers through the hair at the nape of his neck. “‘My Gyu’?”

He shakes his head quickly, his thrusts becoming sloppy, the tears brimming in his waterline slipping down his cheeks, his pleasure growing to an unbearable height. “Please, say again?”

You move your hands to his shoulders, gripping him tight as your own pleasure makes your legs practically go out, holding him for support as a rush of tingles spread to your legs. “My good boy, Gyu,” you moan out, lips pressed tight together.

Another whimper comes as his thrusts suddenly stop, his hips up and you slid down, your name leaving him in gasps and pleas and his body shaking, twitching slightly as his high hits him, eyes rolled back and back arched.

He looks so fucking pretty like that, fucked-out and tired, buried deep inside you, the hot sensation of his cum leaking out of you and down both your thighs and his, you can’t help but peak at the sight, holding him by his hand, his name leaving you like a chant, a mantra.

You bury your face in his neck, both your breaths ragged, and you giggle slightly. “How come you didn’t tell me you liked to use your pillow?”

His voice is breathy and low, the tone you’ve grown to love so much, when he responds. “Did… didn’t wanna, cause, I don’t know, maybe you’d think I was gross?”

You laugh slightly, laying next to him, him still inside you, your back against his chest. “I’d never think you were gross… I think it’s cute, actually. 

“You should let me watch sometime.”