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──── 𝑴𝑬𝑶𝑾 𝑪𝑨𝑭𝑬

╰ 𝒁𝒂𝒚𝒏𝒆 LOVE AND DEEPSPACE: YES, CAT CARETAKER

source: @starmocha

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pilot blobbus has been hogging big wife blobbus too much...

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҉ ⁀➷ 𝑩𝑳𝑶𝑩𝑩𝑼

LOVE AND DEEPSPACE: BLOSSOM ESCAPE

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THIS WILL NEVER FAIL TO SEND ME OUT OF ORBIT AHAHAHAHAHAHAHAHAHHAHAHAHAHAHA

This could be another potential AU minus the death at the end-

Frost Burned

AO3 Link

Pairing: Werewolf!Jinwoo X Vampire!Reader

Genre: Enemies to Lovers AU, smut, fluff, slow burn

Summary: Sung Jinwoo is an alpha wolf who absolutely loathes vampires after they murdered his pack in cold blood. But one night, as he is suffering from terrible wounds, a lady vampire visits him with a sultry grin, offering him a solution to take away his pain—for a price.

Content Warnings: blood sucking (lots of that, RIP jinwoo), swearing (he has a potty mouth here), endless banter and teasing, slight dry humping, mentions of murder

Sung Jinwoo was no older than twenty-five when he met her for the first time—an alpha who had just lost his entire pack.

It happened in the blink of an eye, the tragedy that would change him forever. It stripped the warmth from his smile, replacing it with something colder, harder. Bitterness took root in the place of hope, and stoicism masked the soul he once freely shared. There had been seven of them—seven wolves bound by blood and loyalty, living in quiet harmony—until the night before the full moon, when they were all slaughtered.

All but him.

It was an ambush. One he never could have seen coming. A group of vampires—ancient, merciless, and impossibly strong—emerged from the shadows with their teeth bared. They struck just before the moon rose when the wolves were at their weakest, when their bodies were preparing for the shift and their strength lay dormant. The older the vampire, the more powerful they become—and these creatures had centuries of power behind them. Weakened by the upcoming Snow Moon, Jinwoo and his pack never stood a chance.

They were massacred.

Among them was his younger sister, Jinah.

Since that night, Jinwoo has carried a hatred so deep it burns. He swore he would avenge them—that he would find the ones responsible and bury them with his own hands. But the vampires vanished without a trace, like ghosts. And so he remains, haunted by guilt and grief, choosing solitude over rebuilding. He refuses to bond with another soul, to form another pack, to take another alpha’s title by blood. He walks alone—both as a man and a beast—with only the cold moonlight to witness his sorrow.

Across the quiet stretch of the same town, a lady vampire moves through the night with practiced grace and poise in her step. Though she has walked the earth for centuries, she appears no older than him—perhaps even a couple of years younger. She hides her age behind beauty and elegance, behind secrets she’s gathered over lifetimes.

Much like Jinwoo, she has chosen a life of solitude—but not out of grief. No, she lives alone because she finds other vampires intolerable. Something about the way they toy with human lives grates against her. The cruelty, the callousness—the way they treat people as nothing more than cattle to be drained. Yes, she drinks human blood too. She must. But unlike the others, she prefers to think herself… kinder.

Before she feeds, she compels her victims gently, soothing their fears, dulling their pain. And if her hunger ever overwhelms her control—and it has, on unfortunate occasions—she ensures their death is not one of terror or agony, but pleasure. It’s the least she can offer. A small mercy, in a world where her kind rarely shows any.

She and Jinwoo have crossed paths before, more times than he would've liked. Never intentionally. Never by his choice.

He used to loathe her on sight, assuming that she was just like the other bloodsuckers who murdered to survive. He would’ve killed her the first time they met—torn out her throat without a second thought—if it weren’t for the maddening softness in her eyes. She looked so damn innocent. So pure. And so damn pretty, too, prettier than anything he'd ever seen. It infuriated him.

But she never bared her fangs at him. Not once. She only met his fury with amusement, those shimmering eyes dancing as if his anger was her favorite game. And somehow… that intrigued him. Still does.

She grins every time he snaps at her, pleased with herself for riling him up. She sees through his temper, straight into the part of him he hides even from himself. He hates her—he says that often, loudly, sometimes with claws out—can’t stand a strand of her stupid, luscious hair, but strangely, he never actually tries to kill her. He should, but he doesn’t (yet), so that’s… something.

Tonight, they meet again. Unintentionally, of course.

The woods stretch far beyond the reach of civilization, blanketed in silence and moonlight. She walks as if she owns the earth beneath her feet, a vision of ethereal grace, her long, beautiful white dress trailing like mist behind her. In contrast, Jinwoo stumbles through the shadows, dressed in nothing but his jeans, his bare torso covered in scrapes and bruises.

Another werewolf's claws have been etched deep into his chest, five slashes marring his skin, leaving fresh, angry marks. Blood slides down his abdomen in thick rivulets, staining his jeans. The searing pain numbs his senses, his handsome face drawn tight as his vision begins to blur.

Eventually, his legs give out. He collapses against the base of a tree, panting, struggling to stay conscious. He tries to will himself into healing, but it’s no use—the wound is too deep, his strength too far gone. Every breath is a battle.

Then, he hears it.

Footsteps.

They crunch softly over the undergrowth, too measured to belong to another werewolf, too calm to be a threat. Still, Jinwoo tenses, bracing himself. He’s too weak to fight. Too exhausted to run.

So this is how I die? he thinks, bitterly amused. He doesn't fear death. He just thinks it’s pathetic to die without being able to put up a fight.

But then…

It’s her.

Of course, it’s her.

Fucking great.

“Oh my,” she says, a mock grimace curling her lips. Her eyes sweep over him, taking in the blood, the torn skin, the way he slumps against the tree like a man moments from death. “You somehow look even worse than the last time I saw you. And I was sure that was rock bottom.”

Jinwoo exhales through his nose, long and pained. Suddenly, he feels ten times more exhausted just from seeing her. “Maybe if I lie here long enough, a cougar will come and finish the job,” he mutters to himself, thinking that it’d be less painful and humiliating than whatever it is he’s going to go through with her.

The vampire clicks her tongue, stepping closer with the slow, graceful steps of a predator that knows there's no need to rush. “Now, now. Don’t be so dramatic. Cougars are picky eaters.”

He glares at her through half-lidded eyes. “Guess that makes two of you.”

She lets out a soft laugh, unbothered. “Oh, no. I’m starving, darling. You’re just not my type.”

Jinwoo lifts his head, his eyes sharp despite how battered he looks. For a split second there—before she opened that damn mouth of hers—he actually felt a flicker of relief at seeing a familiar face. But then reality set in and his frown returned like a reflex. She’s the last person he wants to see in this state, knowing full well she’ll waste no time ridiculing him for it. “Not in the mood to hear you run your mouth tonight, bloodsucker.”

“Well, unfortunately for you, puppy, I am in the mood to run my mouth tonight.” She stands tall above him, one hand cocked on her hip, her smirk all too pleased. “Half-naked again, I see. Honestly, I’m amazed you’re not in jail yet. Must be nice—having a face pretty enough to get away with indecent exposure.”

She always does this—flirts like it’s a hobby, like he’s just another toy to poke and prod for her amusement. It used to fluster him. Now, it just ignites his irritation. A slow burn in the back of his throat.

“You’re a weird little lady, you know that?”

And he means it. She's the only one who keeps coming back, undeterred by his snarls or his barbed words. Every time they meet, she’s there with that infuriating grin, acting like they’re old friends instead of natural-born enemies. He can’t understand why she’s never afraid of him. As a centuries-old vampire, she’s powerful—probably even faster than him—but one bite from an alpha like him could end her. Still, she treats him with soft head pats and teasing nicknames like he’s just a… well, a puppy. 

No matter how many times he pushes her away, she always comes back. Night after night, like clockwork—teasing him, riling him up, driving him absolutely insane with every damn word that leaves her mouth. And God, he fucking hates her for it.

But when she’s not around… The night stretches on endlessly. Quiet. Empty. Lonely.

Not that he’d ever admit that out loud. He’d rather bleed out under this tree first.

“Oh? That’s the first time you’ve ever called me a lady,” she says, visibly pleased, latching onto the smallest hint of civility in his tone. It's a skill really, for her to always find positivity in all the negativity he throws. “Don’t tell me I’ve finally charmed you?”

Jinwoo exhales a sharp breath of irritation. “What the hell are you doing here? Shouldn’t you be off somewhere draining some poor human dry?”

“I did that already, thanks for asking. What are you doing here? Shouldn’t you be out in the woods, running naked with your tongue hanging out?”

He knows she’s only trying to rile him up. She always does. And yet… beneath the annoyance, there’s something oddly comforting about her presence. Familiar. Predictable, in the strangest, most infuriating way. Like reconnecting with a friend you’ve always wanted to strangle.

“Shut up,” he grumbles. “I’d wipe that stupid grin off your face if I weren’t half-dead right now.”

She laughs, low and delighted. “Promises, promises.”

She’s tempted to keep the banter going, but curiosity gets the better of her. “So? What happened to you this time? Did some cat try to beat you to death?”

He ignores the jab, glancing down at his wounds, face twisting in a grimace. The pain cuts through him like a thousand hot needles with every breath. “Ran into another werewolf,” he mutters, voice dry. “We had a... disagreement.”

“Oh?” She tilts her head, lips twitching. “Let me guess. You lost and ran off with your tail between your legs?”

He snarls. “I killed him.”

That wipes the smirk from her face—for a moment, anyway.

“You werewolves are always so… barbaric,” she sighs, folding her arms over her chest. “You know, you should learn a thing or two from vampires.”

Jinwoo barks out a laugh, an ironic sound. “Oh, yeah? Like what? How to suck people dry and still act like you’re better than everyone else? How to be as arrogant and insufferable as you are?"

She keeps her pompous smile intact, unfazed by his harmless bite. “For starters, how to be attractive and elegant. I mean, look at me.” She gestures to her immaculate appearance. “Then look at you. You’ve got, what? One pair of jeans to your name?”

He scoffs, but there’s a flicker of amusement behind his eyes. “Right. And how about you learn a thing or two from werewolves? Like how to be brave and fierce instead of being a coward and a fucking parasite to survive?”

“Oh, honey, I am brave and fierce.” She tosses her hair over her shoulder, her pointy teeth peeking out from behind her grin. “You just think I’m not because I look like your sweet, delicate, out-worldly beautiful little princess,” she croons, her smile embodying the innocent charm that most men dream of seeing in a woman.

Jinwoo raises an eyebrow at her words. He’s a little taken aback by her confidence, but he tries to maintain his facade of indifference. “You don't look terrible in the eyes, I’ll give you that, Princess,” he says the word like it burns his tongue. “But I don’t think it counts as brave if you only hunt at night and run away at the first sign of sunlight.”

“Touché,” she shrugs. “Well, at least I don’t hump a fucking tree during a full moon.”

His cheeks flush red at her words, his eyes flashing with annoyance and anger. He growls.

“Mm, growling. What an intelligent response.”

He rolls his eyes at her sarcasm. “We werewolves can’t help ourselves around a full moon. You know that. You’re just trying to get on my nerves.”

She titters, “I’m just surprised you didn’t deny humping a tree.”

“Oh, shut up.” His blush deepens, creeping from his cheeks to the tips of his ears. “You know damn well that’s not true.”

“True or not,” she says with a sly grin, “it doesn’t change the fact that you’re just a beast with no control over your instincts. Unlike me.” Her smile softens then, and her voice lowers just a touch. “But enough about that, love.” She crouches in front of him, sitting gracefully on her heels. Her gaze shifts, focused now—not mocking, but strangely gentle—as she scans the angry slashes carved across his chest. “Those are nasty wounds,” she murmurs. “They’re not healing. Why?”

Jinwoo tenses under her stare, and immediately regrets it. Pain flares across his torso, sharp enough to make him suck in a breath through his teeth. Still, he doesn’t flinch away. “Got them from another alpha,” he grunts. “They take longer to heal. Different kind of venom in the claws.”

She hums thoughtfully, then—without asking—reaches out. Her fingers trail lightly across his skin, cold and delicate against his overheated body. He hisses, part instinct, part alarm. “What are you doing?”

“Relax. I’m just trying to see how deep they go.” She doesn't necessarily need to touch him to figure that out, but there's this desire within her that she cannot ignore. After all, it's rare to find him so vulnerable like this, grimacing like a child at the slightest touch. He almost seems… cute. “Does this hurt?” she asks softly, her fingertips grazing the deepest of the wounds.

Jinwoo bites down hard on his lower lip to muffle the groan clawing up his throat. Shame burns hotter than his blood. He’s never been this exposed in front of anyone—especially not a vampire, and especially not her. Every inch of him is on display, from the taut muscles of his abdomen to the sharp cut of his hips. And she… She doesn’t even blink, damn her.

He nods once, jaw tight. “It… Yeah,” he admits hoarsely. “Of course it hurts.”

His gorgeous body is a sinful temptation, but the scent of his blood triggers her senses more than the growing lust she holds for him. She thought she could chase the thoughts away, but being this close to him, it’s beginning to grow unbearable for her. “Listen, Jin,” she starts, her tone losing its usual teasing edge. “I can’t heal you. But I can take the pain away… if you want.”

His eyes narrow at her offer. “And what? You’re gonna bite the pain away, bloodsucker?”

Her nose scrunches in distaste, though her fangs press lightly at her lip from the effort of holding back. “Can we be civil for one second, please? And stop calling me bloodsucker. I’ve told you my name before, haven’t I?”

“I don't give a damn about your na—ah!” He jerks forward with a ragged gasp as her fingers brush a particularly raw edge of the wound. The sound shocks them both—more intimate than either of them expects. Her eyes flick to his, wide, while Jinwoo bears his teeth in frustration and pain, humiliated that the noise even escaped him.

“What the fuck do you think you’re doing?” he snaps, baring his teeth menacingly as he dwells in his chagrin. 

“I didn’t know you could sound like that,” she chuckles, her smirk dripping with filth. “Cute.” But when his nails lengthen into claws, her amusement falters. She raises her hands in mock surrender, though the gleam in her eye never fully fades. “Hey, hey, calm down,” she coos. “I was just messing with you, darling. No need to shift just because you moaned like a girl.” Her grin sharpens, back in full force. “I like it, though. Would love to hear more.”

“I’m gonna kill you.”

“Geez. From shut up to I’m gonna kill you—pretty girls just can’t catch a break these days, huh?” She exhales with feigned dramatics, but instead of backing off, she leans in. Closer. Close enough that she could straddle him if she wanted to. (And she wants to.)

“I’m offering you a friendly bargain here, puppy,” she murmurs, brushing her knuckles along his cheek.

“Don’t touch me,” he tosses his face to the side, glowering. “And don’t call me puppy. I’m not making any deal with you, bloodsucker. Just fucking leave me alo—ngh—” The pain hits again. His breath catches, a guttural groan escaping before he can stop it. His fists clench in the dirt.

“Easy now,” she says, far too pleased. “You don’t want to get too worked up.”

“And whose fault do you think that is?!” 

“Not mine you’ve got the temper of a toddler.” Her grin widens. “And, Sweetheart, trust me—you need my help.”

“I’d rather die.”

She rolls her eyes. “And I’m the drama queen?” A pause. Then a look sweeps over him—sharp, unreadable. “You keep pretending you’re strong, but all I see is a stubborn idiot bleeding out in the woods. Although...” she tilts her head, lips curling, “I won’t lie. There’s a charm to it. I find pathetic men to be... endearing.”

“You’re a fucking pervert— ”He flinches again, jaw clenched tight as another wave of torture rips through him.

“Well, you’re a masochist for enjoying pain so much."

He ignores her, trying to loosen up. The more his vexation gets the best of him, the more pain he has to endure. “Damn it.”

“It hurts that bad, huh?” She winces in sympathy but does not feel a sliver of remorse for contributing to his suffering. “The offer still stands, you know. I can get rid of it. Everything, all at once. But you have to trust me.” Her sweet, silvery voice rings wonderfully in his ears, but he can't seem to do what she asks of him just yet. He has no choice but to try, however, once she boldly closes the distance, rising on her knees until she looms above him, her body a breath away from his.

His eyes stretch in surprise at the sudden proximity, his face tipped back to meet her gaze. “Y-You—” He’s cut off by the sight of her irises turning a deep, brilliant crimson. They glow like embers, too bright, too beautiful—like stars set on fire.

“Pay attention, Sweetheart,” she purrs, then she bares her teeth, drawing her lips back slowly like a curtain. Her fangs lengthen, gleaming like polished ivory beneath the pale moonlight. A shiver dances down his spine. “We’ve got toxins in our bite, you see,” she says, voice honey-sweet and laced with sin. “Like a drug. One bite, and I can flood your veins with it—numb the pain, send your head spinning. If I drink long enough...” her smile turns wicked. “I can take you to cloud nine. If you know what I mean.”

He jerks his head away, scowling through a flush that’s far too obvious. “A-As if I’d let you drink from me.”

“Oh, you will.” She cups his face, forcing him to meet her gaze. “Because you need it. You're not fooling anyone with your tough act, Jin. I know you're begging for relief.” The distance between them is almost nonexistent. Had she been human, her breath would be dancing over his lips by now. “And I’m ready to give it to you, but, of course”—her lips trail lower, her smirk brushing the shell of his throat— “There will be a small price to pay. You know I don’t do favors for free... not even for a handsome boy like you.”

The little scarlet that blooms on his cheeks betrays the venom he utters through clenched teeth. “I'm not a boy.”

“Maybe not, but you're definitely handsome,” she replies shamelessly, sending a deeper flush across his cheeks. Her hand leaves his face only to slide downward, one finger tracing his skin in a slow, delicate path from his collarbone to the underside of his chin. She tilts his face upward, looming over him like a predator savoring the moment before the bite. Her smile widens as she hears the frantic thrum of his heart beneath her fingers.

“Although I’m sure your werewolf blood will taste disgusting, it’s the only thing you have to offer... unless”— she pauses to build anticipation, letting her lips trail to his ear, her wicked smirk brushing against its edge—“there’s something else you’d like to give me?”

His claws sink into the earth below, trying to chase away the thrill that suffuses him with every word she speaks. “What…” he croaks out, though the implication in her words is obvious. “What do you mean?"

She smiles angelically despite the salaciousness in the next line she utters. “I’ve heard rumors about wolves like you…” Her lips hover at his skin, her whisper silk-wrapped sin. “All that raw stamina. That wild, uncontrollable side. Makes me wonder just how true they are.” Her mouth itches to capture his lobe and suckle it between her teeth, but she refrains. Judging from his reaction, he's already close to losing his mind even without her doing so.

“Tell me, Jin, are you as… untamed as they say?” She purrs softly in his ear, bestowing the slightest of kisses on the skin below his ear. “If I had you for just one night… Would you lose control for me? Would you claim me like the beast you really are?”

The veins in his throat protrude as he tries to rein in his desire. She’s like a siren, awakening something primal within him. His body trembles with the effort to hold back, his throat working around a growl. After a few agonizing seconds, he shoves her back by the shoulders—enough to breathe, not enough to hurt her. His face is blazing. “Fuck you.”

“That's the idea, darling.” She curls her fingers around his wrist, her grip like steel in velvet. Then, with breathtaking audacity, she presses into the crook of his neck. “I want you to fuck me.” Lust laces her whisper, heavy and electric. Her icy cold lips feel soothing on his warm skin, and at the same time, thrilling. “And in return… I’ll take away your pain. Every last trace of it. Not a bad deal, hmm?”

“God—damn it,” he mutters through clenched teeth. The pain is unbearable. But the temptation…

He can try and mask it all he wants, but she can smell it. His arousal, hot and heady, bleeding through his resolve like smoke through cracks. 

Jinwoo looks up at her, flushed and panting. “Are you... really asking me that?”

Honestly, she wasn’t. It started as a joke. But seeing him like this—flushed, desperate, curious—makes her wonder if it has to be a joke at all. “Would you say yes if I were?"

He turns mute, taking a moment for himself. Whether he’s trying to detect her lies or to ruminate on his options, she can’t tell. 

She giggles, delighted by his silence. “Your heart’s beating like crazy. I’m surprised. Who knew the big, bad wolf was a virgin?”

He turns bright red, redder than he’s ever been. ”I’m—I’m not a virgin!”

“Wouldn’t bother me if you were,” she simpers. “In fact…” Her voice dips, syrupy and slow. “It makes me want to ruin you even more.”

“You—” He abandons the sentence midway, exhaling harshly, flustered and impatient. “Can you not run your damn mouth for one second?”

She tilts her head, lashes fluttering. “Should I use it instead?” Her smirk deepens. “You still haven’t answered me, you know. I can make you feel so good with my mouth. My teeth, I mean.”

Jinwoo narrows his eyes, struggling to compose himself. “Why should I trust you? That toxin of yours could be bullshit. For all I know, you just want to turn me into your personal blood bag.”

“Maybe I do.” She shrugs playfully. “It’s your call, wolfie. But I won’t wait forever.” 

She taps his nose with one finger, light as a feather, then rises to her feet with maddening grace. The midnight wind catches her hair as she turns away, her dress swaying in the dark.

“Enjoy the pain,” she sings softly, and begins to walk.

Jinwoo watches her go, jaw clenched, heart racing. The pain claws at him from the inside. And now that her touch is gone, the cold sinks deeper into his bones.

He remembers the look on that poor bastard’s face when she bit him—not agony, but ecstasy. Disgust had been his first reaction. But somewhere, deep in the back of his mind, curiosity had stirred. He couldn't help but wonder how it would feel like to be under a vampire’s—no, not that—her mercy.

And now, temptation screams louder than ever.

He hesitates. Then—

“Fuck it,” he growls, his pride fracturing. “Hey—wait.”

A devilish, victorious grin blooms on her lips, though she quickly veils it behind a mask of feigned innocence. She pivots, eyes wide, voice sweet. “Yes?”

He meets her gaze, something volatile swimming behind his eyes—caution, yes, but also hunger. “You’ll take away the pain, right? You’ll make it feel like... like I’ve downed ten bottles of alcohol?”

“Oh, honey.” Her lips curve up beautifully, sinfully, as the light in her eyes sharpens and flares in delight. “I’ll make you feel like you just had the best orgasm of your life.”

Fire fills his cheeks, but he veils it with a scoff. “You’d better be right about that, bloodsucker.”

“I don’t tell lies, Sweetheart,” she says—another lie, but he’s too worn out to challenge it.

She saunters closer, crouching to meet him at eye level, her voice dipping into something intimate. “Now that my puppy is being honest and demanding… I need a promise in return.”

She can hear his heartbeat quickening just a tad faster in anticipation, but on the outside, he scowls. “What is it?”

“I need you…” Her gaze gleams as she brushes her fingers along his cheek, keeping him imprisoned. “To be a good boy for me.” 

Her thumb toys with the corner of his mouth, and he freezes—just for a second.

“No biting. No growling. No talking back. I want manners, obedience. I want you to listen.” Her voice lowers into something satiny. “Can you do that for me, darling?”

Scarlet creeps across his face, fury and arousal tangled in a knot in his chest. He looks at her with a conflicted expression, her request going against his very nature. He’s a werewolf, for fuck’s sake, and she’s a goddamn vampire. He’s supposed to be tearing her heart out instead of wagging his tail for her, and yet… the thought of putting on a restraint around himself and handing her the leash… isn’t necessarily too bad.

As an apex predator, his pride and instinct won’t allow him to bend his knees and succumb to anyone’s wish, but something about her makes him want to let loose, to embrace his vulnerability, and just be Sung Jinwoo, the lonely man who secretly seeks company, who craves for affection, who wishes to find someone who can accept both the fragile part of him and the beast inside him. 

Maybe he’s tired of fighting. Tired of aching. Tired of being alone.

Maybe the thought of someone else taking the reins—even a devil like her—feels more like relief than defeat.

And right now, with pain burning through him and pride slipping between his fingers, that relief sounds like salvation.

“Baby,” she prompts, sweetly chiding. “I’m asking you a question.”

“Enough with the pet names,” he curtly utters though the rasp in his voice betrays him. “Fine. I’ll try my best not to kill you tonight.”

She doesn’t smile. Not this time.

Instead, her hand closes around the side of his neck—not rough, not painful, but firm. Her eyes shift, voice laced with command. “That’s not what I want to hear.”

The sudden dominance in her voice catches him off guard, leaving a trail of chills. “I’ll…” His pulse hammers high in his chest, eyes trapped in the intensity of hers. “I’ll behave.”

Her voice softens again, but her grip does not. “Promise?”

His throat bobs with a hard swallow, tension winding tight beneath his skin. Something unfamiliar, something exciting, swells inside him. “I promise.”

And just like that, she effortlessly slips back into her playful theatrics. “Well, aren’t you an adorable little puppy?” She grins, scratching him below his chin in mock affection. 

Jinwoo pulls back with a snarl, almost baring his teeth, but he chokes back his threat before it can take form. A promise is a promise.

She watches him wrestle with himself, amusement plain on her face. “That’s a good boy.”

Then, without hesitation, she straddles his lap, settling atop him like a queen claiming her throne. Her fingers ghost down his chest. Her lips part just enough to let her tongue wet her bottom lip.

“Let’s begin, shall we?”

***

Jinwoo bites back a gasp at her touch, his muscles coiling as she splays her palm on his chest. It feels like ice, he thinks, amidst the clamorous sound of his thundering heart. She speaks with the same quiet surprise he feels, whispering, “Your skin’s burning hot,” her touch gentle and reverent as her hand glides over his chest, then down to trace the sculpted ridges of his abdomen, as if memorizing him by feel. 

She avoids his wounds with practiced ease, but he wouldn’t have minded if she touched them now—not when this is what her hands feel like. Her touch feels so intimate, so—

“Soothing,” she whispers, unknowingly echoing his thoughts, both of them caught in the same feeling. She smiles, almost in wonder, paralyzing him with her beauty. She reaches forward to pull him into an embrace, resting her face in the crook of his neck as she nestles herself on his lap. “Your body feels so warm against mine… It’s nice.”

Blood pools on his face, rendering him speechless. He’s never been this close to anyone. Not like this. “What are you doing?” he manages, the edge in his voice dulled into something shy, uncertain.

“I’m hugging you,” she answers matter-of-factly, eyes closed as though she’s found peace.

“I know that. I mean—” Jinwoo jolts, his nails scraping the ground below when he feels the tip of her nose brushing against his collarbone. “W-why?”

She lets out a low, sultry purr, her arms twining tighter around his neck as the sound pulses against his ear. “Because it feels good,” she says simply, truthfully, and he hates that he can’t argue.

Not only does her body feel perfect against him, fitting him like a missing puzzle piece, her scent is wonderful, too—subtle and lovely, something undeniably hers. He hadn’t noticed it before when there was a distance between them, assuming that she carried a similar scent to all the vampires he’d encountered. But now that she’s up close, he finds there’s something else beneath it, something sweet and pleasant, and so damn intoxicating. A scent that he thought would perfectly describe her as the human she once was.

He breathes her in and nearly drowns in it. Everything about her feels right.

He’s derailing, losing his mind.

“Don’t be so tense, Jin,” she murmurs, kissing the edge of his jaw. Her lips are soft, barely there, but they send lightning through his veins. “You’re going to make me nervous.”

Liar.

She’s never nervous. She’s composed, confident, while he’s one stray breath from falling apart.

An unfamiliar warmth stirs in his belly as he dwells further in the intimacy. He needs to stay focused.

“J-Just get on with it," Jinwoo mutters, desperate for a shift—any shift—from this unbearable closeness. But then her tongue glides against his neck, slow and precise, tracing the vein beneath his skin.

His whole body jolts.

“Be patient, Sweetheart. I’m doing my best to be gentle,” she whispers, her voice a tender promise. 

She lowers her mouth to his chest, scattering kisses over his skin. Each one is calculated like she’s laying a spell, and when her lips brush the edge of a wound, he jerks, his hand catching in the fabric of her dress. “Fuck.”

She pulls back, lifting her gaze to his. “Does it hurt?”

“N-No,” he breathes out raggedly, casting his face to the side, flushed. “It’s just… It feels weird.”

She watches him for a beat, her expression softening, layered by a genuine concern. But then she sees it—his flushed face, the vulnerability in his eyes—and her smirk returns, full of mischief. “A good weird or a bad weird?”

He glares, flustered. “Just weird. Are you going to bite me or not?”

She leans in, her voice tantalizing. “Want me to put my mouth on you so badly, huh?”

“Oh my God, can you not—” he groans, feeling ashamed for her sake. “Can you not say things like that?”

“I’m sorry.” She is absolutely not sorry. She drags her face back to his chest, her grin audible in her voice. “I just love making you blush.”

“I’m not blu—ah—” A deep, involuntary moan slips from his lips as her tongue grazes his sensitive bud, the delicate touch sending waves of heat through him. 

“And moan,” she finishes with a laugh. 

A low, menacing growl rumbles from his chest, his face burning and his teeth bared. He knows he shouldn’t have done that—not after promising her he’d behave—but fuck, that was so embarrassing.

“Get. On. With. It.” 

He should shove her off. Regain control. Say something to pull himself back together. But instead… he just sits there.

Letting her touch him.

Letting her own him.

And worst of all—he doesn’t even want to stop her.

The thought slams into him like a freight train. No. No fucking way. There's no way he’s enjoying this.

...right?

He barely has time to spiral further before her tongue presses to his wound. His breath stutters. The tingling sensation spreads like wildfire, blooming outward from every spot she touches.

Jinwoo clenches his fists so tightly his knuckles crack, jaw tense as he tries—and fails—to stop his body from trembling.

Damn it. Am I really—?

But she pulls away from him before he can finish the thought, and his breath catches—ragged and uneven. His mind reels, thoughts spinning out of grasp.

“W-what?” he stammers, eyes locked on hers, searching for meaning in the flicker of surprise etched across her face. “Something wrong?”

“Your blood…” Her voice is barely audible, her eyes locked on his chest, dazed. She licks her lips, slowly, languidly. “It’s not as disgusting as I thought it would be…”

“Huh..? What do you—ngh—” His head drops forward, jaw slack as a shudder runs through him the moment her tongue grazes his wound again. “W-wait—” he breathes, voice shaky, too weak to stop her, too consumed to mean it.

She doesn't wait. Doesn't even pretend to stop. She keeps going, licking at the wound with torturously slow, stimulating strokes. There’s a sensuality to it, a quiet reverence that makes his head spin. Each pass of her tongue stokes the ache inside him—of pain, of longing, of something far more dangerous. She laps at the wound, savoring every trace she can reach.

This feels… Jinwoo trembles, his lids shut close as he suffers through both pain and pleasure. So weird…

A soft moan breaks free from her as the rich taste of his blood spreads across her tongue. He hears it. Feels it. And it wrecks him.

She draws herself back again, her lips stained a darker shade of red, her voice heavy with wonder. “So sweet…” she murmurs, voice thick with yearning. The crimson gleam in her eyes deepens, shimmering with desire and hunger. Her lips part in a delicate, seductive smile, fangs catching the light. “You taste divine, Jin.”

He sees it—the shift in her eyes, the way his blood awakens something darker, something primal within her. A monster, barely restrained. He knows he’s vulnerable, too weak to defend himself if she were to lose control. And yet… there’s no fear. No panic. Only the sharp thrill of anticipation humming in his veins. He’s not afraid of what she might do—he’s eager for it. Eager to see how far she’ll go.

How far she'll ruin him.

She places her hand on the side of his neck, her digits lightly tracing over his pressure points. “I’m going to bite you here,” she says, her voice above a whisper. And she doesn’t breathe, not anymore, but at this moment, clouded by her immense longing for blood, she sounds breathless. “Is that okay?”

Jinwoo swallows thickly, his heart pumping more blood through his veins. “D-do whatever you wa—”

Her fangs puncture his flesh before he can finish. He draws a short gasp, his mouth falling open in a silent groan as shock zings through his entire body. The pain is blinding for a moment, like a pair of knives tearing into his soul, but then…

Oh.

Oh, fuck.

Something shifts. The agony morphs into bliss—hot, heady, all-consuming. His muscles go slack, eyes fluttering back as a haze of pleasure wraps around his bones, and under the moon’s quiet gaze—bearing witness to the way his hardened facade crumbles beneath her bite—something inside him breaks.

Or maybe it’s something being rebuilt.

A faint smile ghosts across his lips.

This feels…

So fucking good.

“Mmph,” she moans as hot blood floods her mouth, her fangs sinking deeper into his flesh. She meant to be gentle—she swears to every god and devil that she did—but nothing could have prepared her for this. She’s never tasted werewolf blood before, and it’s unlike anything she’s known. It shatters every belief she holds.

If her bite is a drug, then his blood is the overdose. It’s the addiction that ruins her—sweet, searing, intoxicating. She drinks straight from the source, where it runs the hottest, the sweetest, where he feels most alive beneath her mouth. And she can’t stop. Can’t think. The craving claws through her with every pulse of his heartbeat against her lips.

“Suck you dry,” she confesses out loud, her eyes hazy with her desire as she laps at his skin. “You taste so fucking good, I want to suck you dry, Jin.”

She moves down to his shoulder and pierces the skin there, not holding back. The pain must be searing, but she can’t stop, not even to slow down for a moment.

The pain from her fresh bite chars through him, sharp and consuming—but laced with a pleasure so intense it leaves him trembling, breathless. It’s as if every nerve in his body is being lit up at once, electric and overstimulated, yet somehow numbed at the rims by the haze she’s pulling him into. His eyes flicker open, dazed and unfocused, fixed on the sky above as the world blurs around him.

“Fucking hell…” Jinwoo utters in a strangled whisper before a small chuckle follows. “This is… so much better than alcohol…” 

She would’ve laughed cockily if she were in the right state of mind, but she isn’t. She’s just as intoxicated as he is, her sanity thinning from the heat of his skin and the taste of his blood, thick and sweet on her tongue. Her hands grip him like he’s prey, like letting go would kill her. She sucks harder, laps greedily at the punctures she’s made, chasing every drop like it’s salvation.

Somewhere in the farthest recess of her mind, a voice screams—Stop. You’re taking too much. But she doesn’t care. Can’t care. All she knows is that she needs more. All of him. Every last drop.

Jinwoo’s hand drifts up, fingers weaving into her hair as he gently cradles her head, guiding her closer. His neck arches, offering more—offering everything. “More…” he breathes, voice rough and trembling with need. His head falls back against the rough bark of the pine tree towering above them, grounding him as he unravels. “Take it… All of it. I’ll give you everything, just… Don’t stop.”

She obeys his plea, silencing the last flickers of reason screaming in the back of her mind. Her grip tightens, possessive and unwavering, as she drinks him in with unrestrained hunger. Jinwoo writhes beneath her, body caught in that exquisite space between agony and ecstasy. He feels his strength slipping away, drawn out with every pull of her mouth—but the euphoria flooding his veins eclipses it all. It’s overwhelming, otherworldly, and nothing in his life has ever come close to this.

His blood surges through her like fire in her veins, and it’s everything—rich, intoxicating, maddening. She wants more. She wants it all. She wants to drain him dry, feel every last drop spill into her. But beneath the rush, she feels it—his heartbeat slowing, faltering as her toxin takes hold. His body softening under her grip. A flicker of panic pierces through the haze.

I really should stop… The thought claws at her, faint and fragile against the roaring hunger, but it’s there. I have to stop before I lose him, but… I can’t… It feels too good... I need more...

I could stay like this forever, he thinks, as a strange, weightless calm settles over him. The pain in his chest feels distant now, like a memory fading in the haze. His body floats—light, untethered—but at the same time, it burns. Not with agony, but with her. Every nerve is a live wire, flaring only for her: the deep, purposeful sink of her fangs; the way her moans hum against his skin; the slick drag of her tongue as she drinks him in. 

His eyelids grow heavy, his thoughts slow, drifting into fog. It feels like sleep—final, irreversible. And maybe it is. But instead of fear, there’s only quiet acceptance. Dying like this, held in her arms, consumed by her… it doesn’t feel like the worst way to go. It feels like surrender.

What a weird feeling, he ponders, fighting to keep his eyes open. Just a moment ago, he wanted to push her away and distance himself from her for good, and now…

I don’t want to let go. I want to stay like forever. With her.

Jinwoo wants to hold her closer, bury himself in her warmth, anchor himself to her—but his body betrays him. His strength slips through his fingers like water, and the hand tangled in her hair loosens, trailing down her back before falling to the ground.

His lashes flutter, the world dimming at the edges. He wishes—just once more—to see her face, to memorize the curve of her smile. But the darkness that comes for him… isn’t so cruel. It’s soft. Soothing. Peaceful. Almost like her.

The moment she senses his body go still, the hunger inside her halts like a snapped thread. She jerks back, fangs retracting instinctively.

“Jin?” His name falls from her lips, cracked with worry. Her brows knit tight as her gaze searches his face—his eyes are closed, his head limp, tilted to the side. Her mouth is still slick with his blood, the metallic taste clinging to her tongue, but the sight of him like this—silent, too still—cuts through the haze of temptation like ice.

“J-Jin? Jinwoo, open your eyes, honey,” she pleads, voice trembling. A ripple of panic surges through her, fast and cold, and it burns the crimson from her irises, shifting them back to their natural shade. Something is wrong. Very wrong.

And she’s the reason why.

"Jinwoo," she shakes him by the shoulders, her fingers digging in despite the tremors racing through her hands. "Jin, come on, wake up." His heart is still beating—she can hear it—but it’s slow, dangerously slow, like a fading drumbeat echoing from too far away.

No.

No, no, no.

I shouldn’t have done this. Panic claws up her throat. What do I do now? How do I fix this?

She can take from him, drink him dry—but she has nothing to give back.

“Jin!” Her voice cracks, thick with rising tears. She can't fathom why. She never despised him, no, but does he truly mean enough to her to be worth her tears?

Whatever the answer may be, one thing is certain: she’s never felt so powerless, so utterly terrified.

“Jinwoo, please—please, open your eyes for me, baby. Stay with me.” Her words flutter on the edge of a sob, her fear bleeding into every syllable.

Werewolves can heal on their own… right? She clings to the thought like a lifeline, but doubt immediately creeps in. Her mind races, desperate for something—anything—that might save him. There has to be a way. How do I help him heal faster?

Blood. He needs blood. But how can I give it to him? Steal a blood bag from the hospital? I don’t even know what his blood type is. 

I could take him to a clinic and leave him there, but… What happens when they realize what he is? What will they do to him if they find out he’s a werewolf?

If only he still had a pack. Someone. Anyone. I could bring him to them, even if it’d cost me my life. But he doesn’t have anyone, does he?

He’s alone. Always has been. And the crushing weight of that truth slams into her chest, folding her in half with guilt.

He has no one… No one but her...

And I did this to him.

“Fuck,” she chokes out, panic tightening around her chest like a vice, tears obscuring her vision as her hands cling to him. “Why did you never tell me about yourself? Why wouldn’t you let me in?” Her voice quavers, breaking under the weight of the storm raging inside her. Rage, grief, helplessness—they all blur together, clawing at her ribs.

And now... it’s too late, isn't it?

“Goddammit, Jin!” she sobs, tears spilling freely down her cheeks. When was the last time she cried like this? She doesn’t know—maybe she never has—but now, the weight in her chest feels like it might shatter her in two. She’s trembling, barely holding herself together, her throat tight with the sobs she’s trying to swallow.

Her fist curls, and she strikes his chest—not out of anger, but out of sheer desperation. “Wake up!” she pleads, her voice rising in pitch, her words thick with grief. “Open your eyes!”

I’m sorry. I’m sorry. I’m sorry. 

Every attempt ends with failure. The one that keeps winning is time, constantly moving, turning deaf ears to her plea. And once she quiets down, the night turns hushed.

His heartbeat is fainter than a ghost's whisper.

“Please…” she whimpers, her voice so soft it barely carries, wrapping her arms tightly around his neck as if holding him could somehow chain his soul in place. Her tears soak his skin, trailing down his collarbone like silent confessions. She buries her face in the dip of his neck, clutching him like something fragile slipping through her fingers. Her eyes squeeze shut, as if shutting out the world might delay the truth.

The weight of it crashes into her all at once—the horror of losing him, her only friend.

“Jinwoo…” she murmurs beneath her broken tears. “Please…”

Don’t leave me.

She feels helpless, growing even more so with the more seconds passing by. All she can do is press her ear to his chest, clinging to the fragile thump of his slowing heart, praying for it to pick up—just a little. Just enough.

But he’s too still.

His body, once burning with life, has gone unnervingly cool in her arms. And his face—normally kissed bronze by the sun—is now drained of color, ghostly pale. The sight of it carves deep into her, a cruel echo of everything she’s about to lose.

In the hollow ache of her grief, she clings to a fragile illusion—imagining him stirring awake in her arms, warm breath brushing her cheek as his calloused fingers gently thread through her tangled hair. In her mind, his voice is soft, reassuring, full of life as he tells her that he’s okay. That he’s safe and sound. That this is all just a dream she can wake up from. She wants to believe it. She needs to. 

She wonders what he’d say if he saw her like this, broken and bare, sobbing until her tears ran dry. Would Jinwoo laugh at her? Tease her? Knowing him, he’d probably reprimand her for being so careless. She can almost hear it, his voice when he calls her an—

“Idiot.”

She blinks. The final tear clinging to her lashes slips free, landing softly on his collarbone. For a split second, she can’t tell if what she’s feeling is another cruel trick of her desperate imagination—until she hears it. His heartbeat. Slow. Steady. Real. A rhythmic thrum beneath her palm.

She gasps, tearing herself from him just enough to rise onto her knees, eyes wide as she looks down at him. And she sees him—the man who’s quietly stolen her heart, thread by thread, without her even noticing... until now.

Color slowly returns to his face, chasing away the pallor that had haunted her moments ago. His lips twitch into a faint smile, and his eyes, though heavy-lidded, seek hers.

Disbelief flickers across her face, chased quickly by a tidal wave of relief so overwhelming it threatens to steal every bit of her strength. “Jin…” His name falls from her lips in a fragile voice as a shaky smile breaks through her sorrow. She reaches out, fingers brushing gently against his cheek, and he leans into her touch, the gesture weak but unmistakably his. 

He’s alive. 

He’s alive. He’s alive. He’s alive.

“Oh, Jin.” She throws herself into his arms, holding him like she might never let go again. Her embrace is fierce, almost desperate, as if by clinging to him tightly enough, she can keep him forever in this world, bound to her. Her tears return, but this time, they fall in quiet gratitude, glazing his skin as she buries her face against his chest.

“You’re alive…” she whispers, voice breaking on a sob, her hands clinging onto his back. “Thank goodness, you’re alive…”

She says it again and again, like a prayer, like a miracle she still can’t fully believe. And in that moment, she doesn’t care how fragile he is or how broken she feels. All that matters is that he’s here—in her arms, breathing, warm. She hadn't realized how deeply he'd embedded himself into her heart until the thought of losing him had torn it apart.

“Barely,” he breathes out with a faint chuckle, his voice hoarse, like it’s clawing its way out of a well. His hand drifts up to the back of her head, fingers tangling gently in her hair as he cradles her close. “You’re… a fucking idiot, you know that?”

She lets out a watery laugh, blinking back the tears that threaten to fall again. “I know. I’m sorry.”

His gaze softens even as he groans, “A little more and you would’ve actually killed me.”

“I know…” she repeats her apology, the weight of guilt crashes down on her again. Her composure shatters—no trace of the arrogance, the mischief, or the effortless grace she wore like second skin. Now, she’s just a girl—fragile, broken—sobbing into his chest like she’s trying to cry the pain away. “I’m so sorry…”

Jinwoo sighs, but there’s nothing but elation in his chest. Somehow, his broken body found its way back from the edge—and he’s grateful. Grateful that he gets to reunite with her again. Grateful that he gets to see her like this, stripped of all pretense, a breathtaking woman shedding tears over the thought of losing him. And despite the pain, despite the blood and fear, he wouldn’t trade this moment for anything. Because here, in the raw silence between them, they’re finally honest. Vulnerable. No masks, no lies. Just two lonely souls finding shelter in each other—and letting go of the ache they’ve carried alone for far too long.

He’s found something rare—a friend who drives him insane and anchors him all at once. And even if there are days he wants to strangle her, he knows, with every aching breath, he’ll never let her go. The same way she didn't want to let him go before.

“Stop crying already,” he says, no bite behind the words—just the ghost of a smile tugging at his lips. “You look awful when you cry.”

She lets out a sound between a laugh and a scoff. “You really shouldn’t say that to a lady.”

“What lady?” He playfully scoffs. “A lady would’ve taken care of my wounds instead of trying to suck me dry.”

“I said I'm sorry,” she sniffles, pouting—and it’s so painfully cute, he has to dig his fingers into the earth to keep himself away from kissing her.

“Didn’t you go on a whole rant about being the one with self-control? The one who doesn’t let instincts take over?”

“I am sorry!” She cringes in shame. “But I helped you, didn’t I? You’re not in pain anymore.”

“True. Almost sent me back to see God, too, but yeah, thanks.”

“Oh, please. We both know you’re going straight to hell.”

“And I’ll meet you there, Princess,” Jinwoo says with a crooked smirk.

Her shoulders slacken at the sight, the tension bleeding from her limbs. Her eyes, still glossed with tears, settle on him with a softness he’s never seen before—stripped of bravado, free of fire. In that quiet, honest gaze, she looks almost unearthly, bathed in moonlight, as though heaven itself had borrowed her just for tonight.

It steals his breath away. She steals his breath away.

He blinks, trying to summon the sardonic mask he’s worn so well. “What? No witty comeback?”

Instead of answering, she leans in, her hands rising to cradle his face with a gentleness that catches him off guard.

“Jin…”

“W-wait, what are you—”

But the words die on his tongue when her lips brush against his. It’s a kiss barely there—cool and trembling—but it melts straight through him, leaving his heart fumbling in his chest. Her mouth is soft, unsure, and fleeting. Her lips sweet and pliant, icy cold yet burning every inch of his skin. It ends before he can catch it, before he can even begin to kiss her back.

She pulls away, her expression suddenly shy, her cheeks tinted with the faintest hue of warmth—something so achingly human. It’s a sight he’s never seen before and it leaves him stunned.

“You...” Jinwoo swallows hard, his voice hoarse. “You just kissed me.”

“I did,” she whispers, barely audible. Her usual fire is gone, replaced by something softer, more fragile. She can’t even meet his eyes, her gaze fixed somewhere over his shoulder as if terrified of what she might see in his face. It stirs something deep in him—something tender.

Is this… the real you? he wonders, his heart palpitating as he seeks for answer.

“I’m sorry,” she says, unconsciously lifting her knuckles to her lips, concealing the bottom half of her face from him. “Maybe I shouldn’t have done that. You hate me, don’t you? It must have felt… disgusting to you.” 

The word slices through him.

Still stunned, still reeling, he doesn’t speak—doesn’t know how. So when she shifts off his lap and begins to rise, retreating into herself, he moves on instinct, his fingers closing around her wrist before his mind can even think.

“Jinwoo…” Her voice trembles with the urgency to escape. “I—”

He doesn’t let her.

He yanks her down with all the strength he can muster, and she tumbles into his lap with a gasp—her palms landing against his chest just as his mouth crashes into hers.

Jinwoo groans into the kiss, his senses alight, drowning in the taste of her—sweet, intoxicating, laced with the tang of his own blood. The leftover of her toxin still pulsates through his veins, heightening everything. Every stroke of her tongue sends sparks ricocheting through his nerves. Every drag of her nails across his chest makes him shudder. And when she wraps her arms around his neck, pressing their bodies together like she’d vanish if she let go, it leaves his head gyrating, his body tingling with pleasure, and he can’t get enough.

She feels so good. She tastes so good. 

He can feel himself slipping into delirium, and it has less to do with the toxins and more with her kiss. He wants it to last. God, he wants it to never end. But then she pulls back—just a breath between them—and he almost chases her lips before she speaks, her voice a tremor.

“Wait,” she whispers, brows knitted. “I thought you hated me—”

“I do.”

And then his mouth is on hers again, brutal in its hunger.

One hand grips the back of her neck, fingers threading into her hair to keep her right where he needs her, while the other snakes around her waist, his hold firm and demanding. 

“I fucking hate you.” He kisses like he means to consume her very soul. “And I fucking hate this.” His tongue delves into her mouth, tasting her, devouring her, and wanting more, always more.

She laughs softly against his lips, the sound delicate and breathless, coated with the remnants of her moans and the echo of his low, guttural groans. It’s a shared language now—this teasing, this sharp-edged tenderness. She understands exactly what he means. This is how they’ve always danced around each other, barbs disguising desire, sarcasm masking sincerity.

“You think I like this?” she asks in return, her voice honeyed with a hint of impishness. Her lips trail along his jaw, then to his chin, before sliding lower to drag a slow, deliberate stripe up the column of his neck. “You think a princess like me would enjoy kissing a beast like you?”

His grip on her hair tightens instinctively, every nerve in his body lighting up in response. The memory of her fangs, her mouth, her hunger—it still burns in his bloodstream, a delicious ache he never knew he could crave, and fuck, he wants it again. A breathless scoff escapes him, half-laugh, half-moan, eyes dark and heavy with want.

“You’re no fucking princess,” he rasps, trying to sound derisive, but his voice splinters with pleasure and amusement the moment she pulls him back into another kiss.

This time, she leads.

She kisses him with all the experiences she had, teaching him firsthand how to make a woman’s toes curl in pleasure only from the swirl of his tongue.

Her mouth moves with purpose, a rhythm only she knows, and he follows without resistance, helpless to her expertise. It’s different from his wild, urgent heat. She kisses with control, with patience, with wicked precision and it drives him fucking insane.

Her tongue slides against his in a teasing swirl, and Jinwoo moans softly, falling apart beneath her. His hands clutch her tighter, but she’s the one devouring him now—making him tremble from something as simple as the way she sucks and nibbles on his bottom lip.

By the time she finally lets him breathe, he’s slumped against the trunk of the tree, chest rising and falling with ragged breaths, his eyes dazed and unfocused. Still, he can’t stop staring at her mouth—flushed and slick from their kiss—as if it were a miracle he somehow survived.

And maybe he didn’t.

Maybe this is heaven.

She laughs quietly, rubbing her thumb over his lower lip, tugging it down. "Looks like the feral beast has been tamed.” Her cocky grin returns and it’s such a perfect look on her, it restores the passion within him.

“Come here.” Jinwoo’s voice is rough with desire as he grips the back of her dress, dragging her closer with a need that borders on desperation. His mouth collides against hers, hot and consuming, and all he can think about is how close he needs her—how skin against skin still wouldn't be enough. He wants her to feel his warmth. He wants to chase away the frost in her skin and replace it with the fire burning in his own.

His hands find her hips, guiding her to move on his lap, seeking friction that sends sparks flying down his spine.

She lets out a giggle, amused by his desperation, dizzy from his urgency. “Jin, calm down—”

“How the hell am I supposed to stay calm,” he growls, teeth grazing her neck, “when you feel this fucking perfect on me?”

He pushes up against her and she can feel it, the contour of his hardening cock rubbing against her center. She moans as her fingers weave through his hair, pressing herself down and angling her face up to bare more of her neck for him to devour. He takes the invitation with a worshipful sort of hunger, his lips trailing lower until he’s cupping her breast.

“But what about…” A shiver runs through her as his mouth closes around her sensitive peak, sucking. “What about your… Your… God, that feels amazing—”

His chuckle vibrates against her skin, a flicker of satisfaction in his eyes. He’s glad to know he’s not the only one unraveling. Jinwoo suckles harder, his mouth itching to leave marks. “My what? Wounds?”

It’s a wonder that she still manages to form a response when pleasure flutters this intensely in her core. “Y-yeah…”

“I’m fine,” he murmurs back, moving to her other breast with the same deifying intent. “I’m not in pain anymore.”

“But if you—ngh—” she flinches, shuddering beneath his mouth. He’s eager, maybe a little too eager, suckling on her bud with a raw kind of intensity that shows his inexperience. And as much as it thrills her to be his first experience in everything—to teach him all the right ways to pleasure a woman—his recovery is still too fresh, too fragile to ignore.

She bites back a whimper, steadies herself, and gently pushes at his shoulders. Jinwoo growls softly in protest, the sound almost possessive, but he eases off the moment she kisses him—a soft, chaste press of her lips to his calms the burning desire rising in his chest, albeit only momentarily.

“You don’t want to do this?” Jinwoo questions, his voice low and uncertain. The lust is still there, darkening his gaze, but it’s laced with hesitation now, with worry. His hands still hold her in place, but there’s no pressure—only a readiness to let go the second she asks. 

She doesn’t want to reject him. God, every part of her wants—needs to be with him, but somebody needs to be responsible, and she’s not going to repeat the same mistake, not after the last time.

She touches his cheek, smiling softly through the heat and the ache. “I do,” she says, voice gentle but firm. “More than anything.” Her thumb brushes over his skin, a silent form of adoration. “But not when you’re still healing. Not if there’s even the smallest chance it’ll hurt you.”

“You won’t hurt me,” he draws her back to him again, silently begging even for a sliver of her touch. “I’m a werewolf, remember? I don’t bruise easily.”

She laughs quietly, shaking her head. “I almost lost you because I couldn’t control my desire before. I don’t want to be reckless and have you bleeding all over the ground from your open wounds just because I can’t wait to have you.”

His expression shifts—equal parts of disappointment and admiration—as he leans into her hand and nods. He understands, but he can’t help the pout that shows on his lips.

“Are you… pouting?”

“No,” he snorts, quickly averting his gaze—and yes, he absolutely is. It’s so adorable, she takes a moment to commit the image to memory.

“I think it’s okay to be a little reckless.” He doesn't give up just yet, his hand sliding up her thigh, inching her dress with it. She slaps it away, playfully chastising him for it, and his pout deepens, somehow becoming even cuter. “What, I’m not allowed to touch you now?”

“You promised you’d behave, Jin.”

“I meant I’d try not to kill you,” he mutters as he hugs her tight, burying his face into her chest and peering up at her with a sulky expression. “I never said anything about not having sex with you.”

“And who said I wanted to have sex with you?” she teases.

Jinwoo pales instantly, and she bursts into laughter, reaching to cradle his face and brush his fringe out of his eyes. “A jest, darling. Of course I want to make love to you.”

“Make lo—” He flushes a brilliant shade of red. “Why do you have to say it like that?” he mumbles in shame, eyes darting away. “It’s embarrassing.”

She gently guides his face back to hers, their foreheads resting together. “Because I don’t want us to just fuck, Jin. I thought I did before, but after everything that happened tonight... After realizing how much you mean to me... I want this to be something more. I want it to mean something. Something special.”

He stares at her, visibly startled—like the words caught him off guard and cracked open something inside. “You want that… with me?”

Her gaze softens. “Oh, Jinwoo,” she whispers, sighing as affection fills her chest. “You don’t honestly think I hated you, do you?”

He doesn’t—not anymore. But for a long time, he wasn’t sure. Maybe “hate” was too strong a word. It was more like… believing they were too different to ever be anything but enemies.

“I don’t hate you,” she continues, her voice warm, grounding him. “I never did.”

His cheeks burn warmer beneath her touch, and his eyes flutter shut as she presses a soft kiss to the center of his brows—a touch so gentle it unravels him. It has been so long since he’d felt this way… welcomed, cherished, loved. And now, here he is, held by the kind of woman who feels like both salvation and sin—his beautiful, sweet little angel with a devil’s grin. In her arms, the world fades away, and for the first time in forever, he isn't just surviving. He's living. And falling for her, in this moment, feels like the greatest privilege of all.

“I… never hated you either," he murmurs, gazing a little sheepishly into her eyes.

“Really?”

“Really.”

“Even though you threatened to kill me every day of the week?”

That draws a chuckle out of him—a quiet, genuine sound that lights her up inside. “You knew I didn’t mean it.”

She smiles, her shoulders easing. “So you really are just bark and no bite, huh?”

“All right. Get off my lap.”

She laughs, leaning in to kiss him again—soft and playful, her smile brushing against his. And he kisses her back, just as sweetly, as though he’s finally allowed to show her everything he’s been too afraid to say.

In this kiss—in this tender, quiet moment—Jinwoo finds the answer to his question.

There are two sides to her: the one she wears like armor when she needs distance, and the one she reveals only when she’s ready to lay herself bare. But he doesn’t need to choose between them. He adores all of her. Her cockiness, her sharp wit, her gentleness, her fire, her strength, her vulnerability. Every bit. And by the look in her eyes—the way she gazes at him like he’s something precious—he knows she must feel the same.

“What?” she asks, tilting her head with a smile. “Why are you looking at me like that?”

You’re beautiful, and I like you so much, I think I might be in love with you. “I just remembered how stupid you looked when you were crying earlier.”

She pinches his nose, hard. Jinwoo only grins, unbothered, affection curling in his chest like smoke. The words press against the edge of his tongue, aching to be spoken—but he holds them back. Not yet. Not like this. He wants it to be perfect. Maybe after they make love he can—

Wait.

A-After we make... love?

She glances down. “Why are you getting hard again?”

“I—I’m not,” he sputters, face flushing as her eyes narrow in suspicion. “It’s the drug. The, uh, the toxin thing. Still messing with my body.” Which, technically, is true. But definitely not why he’s pressing up against her thigh.

“Oh, right. You probably still can’t stand, huh?” Her brow furrows with concern. The toxin alone could paralyze an ordinary human. Werewolves, of course, have far better resistance—but… I did drink a lot from him.

“Let me take care of you,” she offers gently, sincerely. “I’ll treat your wounds. I’ll stay with you until you’re all healed. And if you need me to take the pain away again—I promise I won’t take too much this time.”

He tries not to smile. “So you're still planning to drink from me, huh?”

“I mean... maybe just a drop or two?”

He gives her a skeptical look. “Mm-hmm.”

“I’m being honest!” she says defensively. “Your blood just tastes really good, okay? I’ve never had anything like it.”

The way she says it—so earnestly, with that faint blush dusting her cheeks—makes his stomach flip. He clears his throat. “So, um… what happens now?”

“I’m taking you to my place.”

“Your place? Why not mine? It’s close.”

“But don’t you live in a den? That must smell awful.”

“I live in an apartment,” he grits out, offended. She gives him a puckish little grin, obviously enjoying herself. It’s honestly astounding how quickly she can switch from adorable to annoying in a matter of seconds. “And I always keep my place clean.”

“Clean apartment or not, I think I’ll bring you home with me.” Her smile turns sly. “You can be my pet for the next few days, puppy.”

He growls—low and grumbly—but there’s no real menace behind it. “I’m not a damn pet.”

“Oh, you’re right,” she coos. “You’re more like a big, fuzzy stray I took pity on.”

Jinwoo rolls his eyes. “What makes you think I’m going along with whatever twisted plans you have for me?”

“Because vampires are very persuasive,” she says with a sugary smile. “It’s our thing. We compel people to do whatever we want. That’s why you never hear complaints about us on the news.” Her grin turns naughty. “Though with you, I don’t even have to use compulsion. You’re already in love with me.”

He nearly chokes on his breath. It stutters in his chest before he forces it into a scoff, trying to drown out the way his heart just slammed against his ribs. “A-as if I’d fall for a vampire.”

“Wouldn’t it be romantic, though?” she teases, leaning in until their noses almost touch, her grin stretching from ear to ear. “A vampire and a werewolf, born from two ancient bloodlines sworn to hate each other. We’d be like a modern Romeo and Juliet—only sexier and with a lot more blood involved.”

“Shut up.”

"O Romeo, Romeo! wherefore art thou Romeo?" she recites dramatically, clutching her chest like a tragic heroine.

“Shut. up.” he growls, reaching out to pinch her cheek, tugging at it until she squeaks in protest. Still, his lips betray him with a trace of a smile. “One of these days, I swear I’m going to find a way to sew your mouth shut.”

“You can always kiss me to silence me,” she purrs, undeterred, her brows wiggling suggestively. “Or punish me. I accept all forms. If you catch my drift.”

“Christ,” he mutters, dragging a hand down his flushed face. "Is sex the only thing in your mind?"

"You don't think about sex when you're with me?"

Silence.

She snorts out a laugh. "Thought so."

She watches him with amusement, noticing how the tips of his ears glow red despite his attempt to act nonchalant. She resists the growing urge to reach out and scratch behind his ear, just to see if he’d instinctively lean into it. Maybe next time, she muses, biting back a giggle. “You promised you’d be a good boy for me tonight, didn’t you, puppy?”

He tenses, glaring at her through a flushed face. She’s got him—completely at her mercy. Between the haze of the toxin and the way she’s looking at him, he doesn’t stand a chance. Still, he grumbles one last protest, looking away like a sulky teenager. “If you do anything weird, I will rip your throat out.”

“See?” she giggles. “All bark and no bite.”

“Come here, you little—”

***

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Yes I hear you Zayne enjoyers. Here’s your dinner

And with that I finally did all the Lis YEAHH

I love this event so much

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It’s funny we get cutesy demure infinity nikki fit and they get bark bark woof fit

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OH MY GOSH

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sylus's little twins — intro

— meet Lucian & Kyros, sylus’s little energy storm! ٩(^ᗜ^ )و ´-

ʕ ꈍᴥꈍʔ: hi hi hi! im so excited to get this out hehehe, a formal-ish introduction to the twin boys i've been writing about in my boydad!sylus au. they were initially passing thoughts, but with all of your continuous enthusiasm towards the littles, they'd grown into these darling characters. i hope you enjoy & love them as much as i do! ❀-urs

kyros & lucian highlight | sylus x reader | parenting hcs/scenarios, little twin hcs, mama!reader, soft boydad!sylus 💕 ft. big twins (luke & kieran)!

general info:

☆ Lucian was born first, Kyros 10.9 minutes later 

ദ്ദി(｡•̀ ,<)~✩‧₊

sylus was there for all the check-ups & ultrasounds but only found out you were having twins during the last check-up. 

Lucian has always been more energetic and drawn to the spotlight, even in the womb— Kyros, sleepier and cozier, has tucked himself behind his brother in all their photos. It wasn't until the final weeks that Lucian decided to reveal his first little surprise to his parents— when he shifted and made way for them to meet the second heartbeat. Sylus had to take a seat. "Beloved, breathe," you chuckled, rubbing his thumb with your own as he blinks away the spots in his vision.

sylus barely slept the first three days they were born, watching all three of you like a guard dog 

not so much worried that something terrible will befall something so wonderful 

but just… taking it all in— something he'd never thought he'd have in any lifetime, and yet here you are. giving, giving, giving— his generous heart.

he walked to your side of the bed, pressed kisses to your forehead as you slept. you’d stir awake to him brushing your hair out of your eyes, feeling your cheekbones with the pad of his thumb. eyes soft and teary like melting lava. you yawn, catching his wrist with your fingers. “you okay? is something wrong?”  he smiles, shakes his head. “no. everything’s perfect.” 

he hovers over the boys constantly. quick to pick one up when he stirs.

"hello, little one, shh..." he murmurs. his voice breaks at the volume, unused to being so careful before. but he is trying. he will try everyday. "papa is here. papa's got you."

cant help but poke on their cheeks as they sleep, or ruffle their hair with his finger (they're so small, he can't believe it)

the first twin to grab his finger and hold on is kyros, and sylus needed several minutes to compose himself 

when one or both cries, sylus is always the first to respond. he checks diapers, gas and if it’s hunger, he wakes you gently (he's master of the night shift atp)

tummy time was difficult for him in the start, fearing the baby wouldn’t like it, that he’d run too warm or he accidentally shifts them the wrong way. but once he starts, it becomes his favorite pastime.

he hums to them, sings to them, reads to them. theres always at least one strapped to his chest as he goes about his day in the base.

when they get a little older and they can roll over on their bellies, sylus spends hours on his belly too, studying their faces and expressions. his sole purpose is to make them react. peek-a-boo is a favorite.

when lucian starts to babble (kyros will follow soon after) sylus is over the moon. he loves talking back to them. 

“ahh-ah. ooo-ea-ea.” kyros coos, pulling his legs up and down as if bouncing. “i understand, but mephisto is made of metal.” sylus says, chin resting on the nest his forearms had formed on the edge of the bassinets. “ah a wi wi waaaghu” lucian counters. “i didn’t see it that way. maybe i will try to change his synthetic fibers.” sylus nods. “ji ji aah! ah!” kyros. “and pre-record wheels on the bus, yes.” 

sylus 🤝🏻 nursery rhymes (he sings them in the shower??)

you and sylus both love watching them discover each other— like, they’d just forget the other exists for a while until they glance beside them and see their faces staring back. the giggles, the smiles, the eventual spit up— magical

the big twins (kieran and luke) sob when they realize their names are inspired by their own 

"Luke, hold Kyros's neck steady," you advise as you hand him the baby. Luke sits excitedly on the couch, arms out, nodding enthusiastically. it was an amusing little position he was in— he'd cocooned himself between all the throwpillows in the living room and looked like a bird in his nest. "Yes, got it." he says. he's done his research. he and Kieran practiced on cantaloupes while you were away. "Cradle the baby to support his hips and back." Kieran quotes from the LinkiHow, sitting on the other side of the couch, also cocooned in all the pillows. Sylus gave them tired but fond looks. "This is Lucian." Sylus says, placing his son carefully in Kieran's awaiting arms. It takes a minute, but you can always count on them to make a connection. Luke says it jokingly, "Hey, boss man, they both have our initials." You smile unironically. "Do you like it?" Kieran freezes, getting the implication almost immediately. "What?" It snaps into Luke a second later. "What?!" It's very difficult to cry with newborns in their arms. Good thing the pillows minimized the trembling.

never lets you and sylus hear the end of it

"When Lucian climbs on my shoulders, we're a giant robot called Lu-lu." Kieran snorts. "Lemon?" "Can you shut up for once in your life?"

"Boss man, how's mini me?" "Boss hunter, can we borrow the little twins? Namesakes have to bond." and the famous "Hey, dad," one too many times to Sylus. (sylus never corrects them)

steals them away when they’re able to sit up on their own, stays within the base, but at the sight of the masks, the little twins are sent into fits of happy wiggles 

kieran and luke are first to experience the two playing more intricate pretend scenarios (they're big influences)

the little twins’ first prank is to doodle on sylus’s face (sylus was awake, giggling even, but the little twins were 100% sure they got away with it. big twins supervised.)

Lucian the blinding flash of lightning 

pronounced: loo・see・yan

also called “Cian” (see-yan) 

also known as: angel (mama & papa), little boss (big twins), JAWS (kieran when lucian bit him the first time), little dragon (papa) 

has bright, carmine eyes, forever shining with mischief

socialized very early when he refused to be apart from mama or papa 

first word is “mama”. sylus was very excited for you (“papa” followed soon after)

"Say papa." Sylus coaxes, bouncing Lucian on his knee. His boy's bright eyes focused on his mouth, as he made popping noises to emphasize the p's. "P-p-aaa. Papa." Lucian followed the movements with a gummy little smile. But no sound emerged from his mouth. Sylus did everything in his power to make him vocalize, but Lucian's will was stronger than his father's charm. And then you came. Kyros had just gone down for his second nap, and you plop down beside Sylus and Lucian. "It's mama." Sylus points out. And with his full chest, proud and loud, Lucian booms. "Mama!" You scream. Sylus is speechless for a moment but cheers nonetheless. Showers Lucian with kisses and praise. Maybe Kyros will get his p's right.

always strapped on someone’s chest or back in his early days, wriggling in the carrier and testing the bounce

kieran and luke’s test gerbil— uh, sorry, play buddy 

Lucian, having been exposed more to people and positive reinforcement, was quick to gain confidence to try things without fear or even consciousness of failure 

so he flips over first, sits up first, crawls first, has his first steps first and is running by the time kyros can put one foot before the other without support

but he has more little scrapes and bruises from being so active 

loves mama! loves loves loves mama. mama gives him kissies and sweeties. and mama says “yay! Lucian!” in the most beautiful voice 

loves papa too. is a little intimidated by him— only because papa is the first to see his mistakes when he tumbles and falls. papa makes that “tsss” noise when he picks him up. 

but then papa gives warm hugs. and his hair is soft. and papa is tall, and lucian likes sitting on his shoulders. 

lucian loves the sky. you'd "sun" them often when they were little, just sit outside in the shade for the warmth and the nutrients. it was lucian's favorite thing, having developed a Pavlovian response to the words "sun time!" before he even knew what they meant— he'd be wriggling already.

lucian thinks kyros is a little mouse. he adores kyros, always cheers him on like everyone does for him— “ya! go keewo!” 

but kyros looks so small (theyre the same size) 

and lucian is overcome with the responsibility of protecting his brother 

lucian loves hugging kyros (coined the term "squeezy-squeezes"), learning from everyone around him how to treat his brother

sometimes can get a little too rough

made kyros cry once— he cried harder. 

The twins have been in their little playpen for a while, throwing stuffed-balls that jingle at each other as a game of catch. Kyros catches with your help, his back against your belly. Your arms like wings maneuver his to catch the ball in a gentle clap. "Cat!" Lucian says. He's already mastered the act of throwing down to a tee. But somehow a heavier rubber ball had rolled into their soft ball pile, and he'd chucked it at Kyros's nose. "Oh!" you startle first, bending down to see Kyros's face already puckered up in a silent sob. "Oh, darling." Sylus is already at the door at the sound, taking in the scene before him. Your worried fussing, Kyros's reddening nose and... A wailing, louder than the offended's fills the room. Terror-stricken and horrified, Lucian empties his little lungs at the image of his brother sobbing because of him. "Lucian." Sylus sighs, picking him up and rocking him side to side. Mama and papa danced side to side, soothing, as they sang a painful little harmony for them for a while.

absorbs how you and sylus interact. 

⟢ places both palms on papa’s face to look in his eyes — "papa, shmeeties." (sweeties) ⟢ presses his nose to papa’s cheek when he's in his arms and papa is talking to someone else ⟢brushes your hair back from your eyes when you're telling him, "lucian, no more sweeties, okay?" ⟢ kisses your forehead the most ⟢ pokes papa’s lips when he’s idling or reading

likes sweeties (candies, cakes, ice creams, u name it)

loves to climb! loves going up, up high! 

needs that vestibular input when he teeters on the edge of something (effectively giving sylus daily heart attacks)

does not like hats :( 

drags kyros by the hand everywhere (kyros does this too! learns it from lucian)— one time when kyros couldnt quite walk yet, you find lucian dragging him face-planted across the floor. kyros kinda just went with it

started the trend of running up to you or sylus when you get home from missions and throwing himself in your arms

sensitive. doesnt like being scolded but understands to an extent why. sylus is good at explaining discipline to his toddlers.

“papa doesn’t want you to get hurt. so I'm saying it in a strong voice so you listen and remember,” sylus explains firmly. “love lucian? papa?” he asks, snot and tears running down his blotchy red cheeks. sylus softens, huffing the through his nose and wiping his son's tears away with his thumbs. “of course i love you, angel. just, please stop sliding down the bannister.”  oh, sylus is so very tired.

sleeps with his limbs strewn about

sylus is always hit in the eye when they nap together

Kyros the gentle rumble of thunder

pronounced: kee・ ros

also called “kyro” ("kee-ro" as Lucian so lovingly puts it, unable to get that s sound just yet)

also known as: angel (mama & papa), little boss (big twins), KYYYYROSSS (luke, when they lift him over their head like a presentation to the gods), and turtle (papa)

his eyes are a darker shade of red, like a stormy sea of blood. and so his little baby stares are extra O.O when he’s watching everyone around him

kyros was sickly during his first few months, which led to him being a little less socialized compared to his brother

sylus was very doting on kyros, worried immensely, didnt know a wink of sleep for the first three months of thunderous little coughs rattling such a small, fragile body 

he held him more, gave him the medicine, took shifts with you when you forced him to get rest

but kyros pulled through. he’s healthy by the time the third month rolls in, and so he starts rolling, too

kyros watches lucian do his firsts and copies. less trial, less error— the little owl he is

his babbles were quieter, and so you whisper to him hushed words of affirmation 

"ehh? egh ah!" kyros coos, eyes locked onto yours as if actually making conversation at 4 months. "yes, angel, you’re very handsome." you smile back, exaggerated nods, and a lilting voice. "ah-ooo, oo-eeh." "much muuuuch more than papa." you affirm. and suddenly sylus is right behind you. "hm? sorry?"

he does get his p's right!! but first word is “pito” (mephisto -> phisto -> pisto -> ⊹ ࣪ ˖ pito ⊹ ࣪ ˖), his baby monitor

loves papa. oh, sylus really did a number on him by sticking with him during those sick months. now he’s formed an attachment.

most comfortable with papa. likes being held by him, snuggles his messy little hair in the crook of sylus’s neck, mouths gummy little kisses on sylus’s cheeks.

had a phase where he relayed all his thoughts in a whisper to papa. sylus would broadcast it for everyone else to hear. he'd nod in approval with a little "mhm."

loves mama too, of course. loves mama’s voice. mama’s scent. he almost always falls asleep in your presence. never, ever fussy with you. 

has developed very particular sensory needs— preferring deep pressure hugs, dimmer lighting, and more gentle, quieter sounds

he works through most issues, but in his toddler stage, he’s easily spooked and startled— cries often when he is

loves lucian! lucian is eternally amusing to him. his favorite slapstick. lucian, his walking chatty clone— tumbling over and startling him and making him giggle. he loves Lucian.

lucian's hugs! love that!

lucian's games! so fun!

lucian's attempts to string him along (even if he ends up waxing the floor with his forehead)! owwie, but yes!!

kyros feels his feelings deep and slow. disciplining him is like yelling at a baby duck with too-large eyes and a pouty little lip 

it's very hard to stay mad at him (sylus struggles the most)

“kyros? you understand why papa is mad, right?”  kyros doesnt move. doesn't even look at him. sylus swallows.  “kyros, papa is mad because…” kyros starts hiccuping, choking on silent tears. “papa mad.” sylus digs his nails into his palms. “papa... mad because you almost got hurt. got an ouchie.”  kyros nods. “Papa mad. ouchie.”  on second thought, sylus isnt that good at disciplining toddlers. "kyros, say you understand." "un'tad." kyros weeps. "okay." sylus grabs his baby and cradles him to his chest. he peppers kisses into his hair and holds him tight. “no more. all done.”  “all done.” kyros sobs. sylus has to hold his back too.

kyros likes the nighttime, the outdoors. when he was sick, sylus often stood on the balcony and talked to him about the stars. somehow that absorbed. 

kyros thrives in music. you discovered this, when he was fussy one day, and you were tired and aching, and decided to hum a tune into the crown of his head as you rocked him side to side 

he quieted instantly, and you realize the vibrations of your voice have resonated in his skull— effectively calming him by buzzing like a bee

aside from papa, lucian is his next pillar of support. he tends to grasp onto lucian's hand and tug on his shirt when he gets that little bit scared.

likes the kitchen. happy to be in a carrier as you or sylus cooks. he likes the scents and the chop-chop-chop sounds. 

likes hats :) 

the first to bap! lucian when they got into a little argument. big emotions overwhelmed him easily, so when lucian took the stuffie from his hands, his little fist came down on lucian's thigh— it didnt hurt, but they were both told off and both cried 

kyros clung to lucian all day after that — “sowwi, see-yan, sowwi.” 🥺

the big twins still navigate around kyros more cautiously, trying to learn his subtlety, but they get it eventually. kyros reminds them of themselves when they were much smaller, seeking comfort and a safe space. they do everything in their power to provide that for him (and lucian too) 

kyros asks with little words, speech at a slower & steadier rate of development 

"papa home?" "squash! more?" (uses the little more gesture) "pease?" "hug! hug!" "one, two cookie? pease?" (spams the more gesture again)

uses your and sylus’s pet names for each other to address you sometimes

“ma bub (my love), papple juice, pease?” to papa  “peepie (sweetie), up?” to mama “peepart (sweetheart), pease? pease, peepart?” “na-night dadin' (darling)!” to lucian

likes apple juice 🧃💕

is super mesmerized by mephisto, but still gets surprised at his movements— flinches when mephisto shakes, freezes up when mephisto stretches his wings— but is trying to be friends. likes the jingling windchime sound mephisto does when he shakes his feathers.

loves story books. he appreciates whoever reads to him, curling himself around whoever’s arm, chubby little cheek pressed to a bicep as half-lidded eyes follow fingers hovering over words (will eventually learn to read first)

sleeps in this little kitty loaf position, with his fists in his eyes and his body curled in this child’s pose/fetal position 

sylus has to right him in his sleep so he doesnt ache in the morning

ʕ ꈍᴥꈍʔ: if youve made it this far, i wish i could give you a big hug. thank you for reading all about the littles. they're full of life & love, and there will be stories where they bring that out of sylus, mama & the big twins too, and i hope you stick around for that <3 ❀-urs

✧˚ ⋆｡ read more with the little twins here | first little twin headcanon | author's pick: little twins & big twins fic | more sylus thoughts ✧˚ ⋆｡

feel free to send in messages/questions/drabble requests about them in my inbox, I'll be happy to gush about them some more hehe ( ⸝⸝•ᴗ•⸝⸝ )੭⁾⁾♡

dividers by @saradika-graphics

thank you for reading!

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HI KANA!!!!! I have this very interesting idea :3

Not sure if you know of this song but I was imagining about Jinwoo x Reader when listening to it. I don't exactly have a clear idea of how this fic would go but I REALLYYY need to see what you'd write to this song if possible.. 🙏

OMGOMGOMG okay i've never heard this song before and when i heard the first lines of the lyrics i immediately went OH MY GOD THIS IS SO YANDERE JINWOO CODED

the slowed down reverb version of this song can totally be the soundtrack for Limerence honestly it has a much darker vibe to it

i thought this song was about a man thinking about going as far as drenching his hands with blood for her sake, but it turns out it's about the singer changing himself drastically (and figuratively killing himself in the process) to be the person she wants him to be just to make her happy. in a way, it's still yandere-coded ig like yandere jinwoo literally did that in my fic. he tried to be the sweetest man until bad shit happened to her and then he fully embraced his yandere side alskdflskadf

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[roleswap au]

i love the Kochos sm

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I'm gonna ba honest, I honestly love their noses cause they don't look like those typical ml noses you see and they look like actual, human noses with their imperfections and it's making me confident on my own nose (since it has a bump on the bridge cause I bumped it against a monkey bar support - long story)

these two’s noses has never looked better

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HES SO SOXNOSNXOSND

This part is so stinking cute, I'm highkey obsessed with it

Sylus is really letting his territorial dragon out here. No one can touch the flower crown he got from his wife, not even a lil butterfly 😭💗

He looks so annoyed when the little fella lands on the flower crown, and you can see how he brings it closer to himself after he's shooed the poor guy away jfhfhfhh he's literally a dragon guarding his treasure 💖💖

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@cygnuusss Thank you for enabling me and here I am drawing (and yes, writing) a crossover we want to see HAHA (I just reversed their clothes so Talulah is wearing what Sylus usually wears and the sames goes with Alina and Miss Deer.)

I did say I will write for another LI soon but I am waiting for Cosmic Overture from R1999 to drop before I start on it so yeah, high chance you gonna see Sylus the Fighter and Miss Deer fics soon first.

Sylus looked hella fine with this Ursus uniform Hellagure wore in one of his skins but then again he would look hella fine with anything.

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LADS x Dragon Ball Ultimate Shenron Sylus "It's nice to see you again. Every time we meet, I collect another gem. I have seven now. We can use these to summon anything you want."

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I honestly don't know what to say, actually I'm speechless and my heart is still trying to gather itself

(I was literally jumping everywhere when all of this happened, I didn't get a recording, but my screenshots will do the talking-)

And this was me after;

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cvnty goge birds

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Archon quest 5.6

Fontaine part 2 anyone?