#I never glowed up lmfao

[tariah23]

This trend of 90’s babies going around bragging about how “you really can’t even TELL that I’m actually 30 lol. I still look like a teenager 😌. Even younger than actual teenagers-“ has been so weird man. This obsession with youth and even the competitive nature that a lot of these people have with literal kids is very strange and it’s only getting worse. It sucks since most adults who do look younger than their age are usually treated like children and are not taken as seriously as they would if they looked older. It’s not a good feeling at all :(.

[godblooded]

gale has a blue μάτι (evil eye) embroidered by his mother on the left sleeve of his robe. when he was a baby, he was gifted a gold bracelet with a simple μάτι in white enamel by his godfather. it’s traditional for the godparents to buy a μάτι baby bracelet for their godchild and it must always be worn on your left wrist. it’s not to be taken off, and if it breaks it means it protected you from ill intent and must be replaced. the μάτι wards off all evil and must be a gift bought by someone else. the reasoning for this is the μάτι is imbued with the good energy and love of the giver (this goes for all jewelry too) and therefore cannot be acquired by you, as is also tradition for any μάτι one purchases or acquires. his baby bracelet no longer fits him, and he’s never acquired an ‘adult’ μάτι, as he hasn’t yet found the perfect one that’s caught his eye.

all the trouble and crisis and mystra took him away from the possibility of such a mundanity, the simple promise of an imperative touch of memory, self. he wants his mother to buy him his adult μάτι, the one he will always wear on his left wrist. she embroidered the one in his robe. when he can, when it’s right, he wants to find her one fitting of one so spectacular as herself to craft for her. by his own hands or the meticulous hands of another, any mastery will do, but the beauty must be immaculate. perhaps an enchantment.

he still has his baby bracelet, which he cherishes as it has never broken. gale often makes sure to keep it tucked away on his person (always in the left pocket of a rucksack, always in the left inseam of his robe). he keeps it close, as its enchantment is all its own. he thinks of it as a talisman, a shield, as a boon to his courage; the strength of his family and all that came before them remembered in a trinket.

[lumienn]

FUCKING FINALLY.

[simpjaes]

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 🖤🖤🖤🖤

[cordeliawhohung]

Hiii! I've just binged mafia Price again, as one would, and now I desperately wanna know their first time together 😍 Was it after dating some time, ot much longer or maybe right away? How did they felt? Nervous I bet, but what was anticipation like? Did he make it a planned occasion, or was it casual? Was it quick rough, or slow and sensual, or something else? Like 🤯🤯🤯 My mind's gonna blow thinking about all these. Give this girl some insight, pretty please 👉🏻👈🏻

ugh i answered an ask a few weeks ago that was sort of similar to this but about them dating and i was trying to find it to link with this post but alas, tumblr search is dog water lmfao. anyway it's been a bit since i've written something proper for him so enjoy a drabble to answer your question (:

mafia!141 masterlist

cw: alcohol, smut, mutually possessive sex, (maybe slight technical dub-con due to the alcohol but both parties are awake and aware i'm just putting this here just in case)

When John got home, he found you in the kitchen.

Quiet music hummed through the speaker on your phone as you worked on serving two big plates of food like you had predicted his arrival. You greeted him with a grin as you gestured to the food in front of you on the island, proud of your work. Its fragrant aroma was mouth watering, almost to the point he found it difficult to think about anything other than eating. Your smile was contagious and John found himself chuckling as he approached the other side of the island.

"What's all this?" he asked.

"Dinner, of course," you replied.

John scoffed slightly at his rather poorly worded question and your cheeky response. "Alright, well what's the occasion?"

"No occasion," you said. "You've been at work all day, and I felt like cooking, so..." You paused to pick up one of the plates and held it out for him to take. "Dinner!"

In the last few months that you had been staying with him, you had cooked plenty of times, but never anything quite like that. A part of you felt a little guilty for not being able to show your appreciation as much as you wanted to, for taking you in and keeping a roof over your head, but more often than not he wouldn't allow it. There were few chores he would allow you to do as a guest in his home, and if you wanted to cook or clean for him, you often had to do it under his nose when he wasn't home.

And still, instead of telling you how you didn't have to do all that, how you didn't have to waste your evening cooking a lavish meal, he took it without complaint and allowed you to lead him into the living room. That evening was full of good food, a very expensive wine that you attempted to convince John not to open but he did anyway, and an old slasher film that was more humorous than it was unsettling.

Something was different about that night. Maybe it was the wine, or maybe it was something else, but you seemed to smile and laugh more than you had for the last few weeks. And you were beautiful. The way the dim glow of the TV illuminated your face as you took a sip of wine, the way you laughed and pointed at the screen when one of the characters died; you were perfect.

"Thank you. For taking care of me," you suddenly spoke up.

John had stared at you for so long he didn't even realize that the movie was over, but you didn't seem to mind his unwavering gaze. Yet he was a bit confused by your sudden comment. Maybe it was the alcohol, or maybe it was the truth, but he felt like he didn't deserve it.

"Your gratitude is wasted on someone like me," he muttered, eyes refusing to leave your face.

"What makes you say that?" you asked.

"I'm not a good man."

"I know."

While it wasn't the answer he expected, John was glad you knew that much about him at least. He gave you a breathy laugh as he looked down at the remaining wine left in his glass. The dark red liquid swirled around as he leaned forward to place it on the coffee table.

"How do you know?" he questioned, hoping you would indulge him.

"I've always known," you said as if it was obvious. "If you were a good man, you'd be dead by now. Good men don't live long in your line of work."

"So you've known I'm a bad man this whole time?"

The expression on your face contorted and it wasn't long before your hand rested on his arm. He didn't dare look down to where your fingers brushed against his skin because he feared you would retract if he did, like someone who didn't want to get bitten by a dog.

"You're not a bad man," you retorted as if the very thought had offended you.

"How do you know?" John challenged.

"Because you are kind."

In that moment, John swore he had always known you, and maybe he did. He had known you as the chief's daughter when he was a child. He had known you and your laughter as you sat next to him in maths as a teen. You had always been there, lingering in the back of his mind, finding him when he least expected it.

So when you leaned into him, he didn't stop you. And he didn't stop you when your hands rested on his chest, or when your lips pressed against his. In fact, he savored every moment of it. Your skin on his, your teeth sinking into his flesh; it all felt so familiar like your body was the only one he had ever held that way.

It all happened so fast he felt dizzy, but all John knew was that when he saw you laid out naked on his bed there was nothing in the world that would ever take you from him. He couldn't stop the way his lips were drawn to your chest where he kissed a gentle trail between your breasts and down to your navel. He couldn't stop the way his mouth latched onto your cunt like it was the only sustenance he would need for the rest of his life.

And it was the most love you had felt in your entire life. The way he gently pawed at your body not in greed, but because he needed you to be closer, to feel every inch of you. Every moan that left your lips was carefully fished for, and if one thing didn't work he would try another. The way he crooked his fingers inside of you and swiped his tongue over your clit was all done so carefully, only aiming to please you.

When he eventually pulled away from you, got you so worked up that your legs quaked, you wanted to return the favor. Wanted to thank him for taking you in, for treating you as well as he had, but when you tried to sit up his hand firmly kept you pinned against the mattress. He reminded you that you were under his roof. You were his to take care of.

He continued to remind you of that fact with every pump of his cock inside of you. Each thrust had you repeating his words back to him with pitched moans, how he would take care of you, how good he was to you, how you were his to take care of, you were his, you were his. By the time he emptied himself into you with a heavy grunt and a needy kiss, you knew there was nowhere else you'd rather be.

After that night, you only slept in his bed, and eventually it wasn't just his bed, but yours too. It happened slowly, and all at once, that he had become yours and you had become his, and yet at the same time, it was like it was never any other way to begin with.

[bi-writes]

hello 🐝!! hope ur doing well, luv!

was thinking about bff!roommate!simon loving readers food. the reader starts baking and cooking for fun and uses simon as a test subject to rate the food LOL. reader's food slowly becoming one of his comfort things and maybe him risking cooking for/with them

just pureeee fluff!!

had this idea while looking at my burnt brownies LMFAO

wish ya the best ⚡

this is so sweet. this came out much angst-ier than i intended lol.

more bff!roommate!simon (part 7/?)

cw: mature language and content, suggestive language and content, simon is big 👁️👁️, the mask doesn't come off, aNgSt and LoNgInG

it's one of the first dinners that simon spends with you in your new apartment. he has never lived in a home that he didn't hate coming back to.

when he was a child, he feared his father. when he was an adult, he feared the loneliness and the quiet; it left room for the thoughts in his head to manifest and grow claws. but now, he found himself in the back of a car after deployment without dread in his chest.

when he steps into the foyer, the apartment is warm. there is no dust on the forgotten, bare counters. there is no screaming, no crying, no hushed voices and angry eyes. there is a warm yellow glow throughout the apartment; the lights you have put up since he left cast such a comforting shadow across the inviting furniture, the pictures you've hung on the wall are happy, the books you've put away and the candles you've lit are familiar.

and there's a smell. something smells so good. he closes the door behind him and locks it, setting his bag down. he follows the sounds coming from the kitchen. there's the sound of something simmering, cutlery hitting a wooden cutting board.

when he emerges into the kitchen, something in his chest constricts. you've got your bottom lip between your teeth as you concentrate on peeling some potatoes, trying to be careful not to nick the tip of your finger. there's a pot on the stove, a low fire lit as something cooks. there's more candles, a glass of wine there, a neat mess of vegetable scraps and ingredients.

he doesn't know what to call it; the taste of the word in his mouth sounds something like home.

"simon!"

and there's your smile. a bright, shimmering thing that comes over your face, relief in those gorgeous eyes and glossiness in your gaze as you hold back the excited tears you're overwhelmed with. you drop the knife you were using, hurrying around the counter to greet him, and simon grunts as your arms fling around his neck, bringing him down to your level as you hug him tight. there it is again--something tight and mean in his chest, something that feels good but something he can't say out loud.

"y-you're home--" you pull back gently. "you're back."

you smile, and simon catches the tear that escapes before it can run down your cheek.

"w-welcome home," you whisper, and you mean it, and his breath is stuck in his throat because something was waiting for him here, and it is you, and you are perfect.

"'ello, luv," he murmurs. "somethin' smells nice."

"yeah, i--" you sniffle, taking his arm and bringing him into the kitchen. simon is still fully dressed in his gear, sturdy jeans with holsters fastened around his thighs, a thick belt, a tactical vest tight around his broad torso. you pick up a tasting spoon, dipping it into the stew and holding it up to him. "tell me how it tastes. i'm...trying something new."

simon meets your eyes from under the mask before he lifts up the fabric slightly. you don't pay attention to the corrugated skin you see, the discoloration; you just smile and feed him the spoon.

he closes his eyes gently. he has been living on ready-made meals in the field and the food prepared in the mess halls. the food isn't bad--but it isn't made like this. it doesn't come with an angel feeding it, it doesn't come with an apartment filled with peace, it wasn't made with that unspoken thing that is shared between the walls of this place.

it tastes wonderful. it's warm, and it sits so nice in his stomach, and simon wants more immediately.

"still needs some time, got to get the potatoes done," you say, as if reading his mind. "it'll give you some time to wash up."

and when he comes back, you're still there. he blinks; this isn't a dream. you're still in the kitchen, asking him how he's feeling, your hair in front of your eyes as you pick up plates and bowls and more things you must have picked up when he was gone--what the fuck is going on?

who's house am i in?

what kind of fucking dream is this?

when do i wake up--when does this all get taken away from me? because i don't fuckin' deserve this--ghosts don't eat--ghosts don't get to live, and they don't get to share these memories, and they don't get to fall in lo--

"simon," you say softly, putting a small bowl into his gloved hands. his dark eyes fall, focusing on the curve of your lips and the softness of your skin and the way you feel in front of him. "ready to eat?"

yes. yes, yes, yes--

simon has been waiting all his for this feeling. the domesticity of home, the familiarity of not being alone, the serenity in something not unknown. and this would not last--he knows this deep in his bones. dead men do not get to savor these moments; he knows his demon will come to collect the time he's stolen, but for now, he will sit at the table he shares with you, drink in the warmth that you bring. he will listen to the gentleness of your voice, and he will fight tears one day in the field trying to remember exactly how you sound at this exact moment in time.

and he will try again to keep this feeling. he will pick a day that you work, a day when you are gone, and he will try and recreate the homecoming you gave him. he will fuck it up--of course he will, because simon was never taught how to love someone else like this. but somehow, he knows you won't care.

you will look at him the way you're looking at him now--simon puts the stars in the sky, the moon into orbit, gravity in motion, he brings the heat of the sun and the snow in the winter, and maybe he doesn't do this with the world you live in, but he does it with whatever lives inside of you, and it's enough for you to know that this is all that matters.

his hand along your thigh, his eyes on yours, the thing that is stuck between his teeth that he won't say but that you can feel in the air.

the thing between you that follows you, even when you go to bed that night in separate rooms. the thing that keeps you up at night knowing he is just across the hall, that he's right there, he's right fucking there--

he's right there.

so why can't i just have him?

[hystixia]

A TEST OF FAITH.

SUMMARY 、YOU’RE THE PRIEST’S DAUGHTER, SWEET AND INNOCENT AND FREE FROM SIN. UNTIL JEFFREY WALKED IN AND TURNED YOUR WORLD UPSIDE DOWN.

FEATURING 、JEFF MASON X F!READER

WARNINGS 、FINGERING (M -> F), PUBLIC FINGERING, BLASPHEMY, RELIGION KINK, CORRUPTION KINK

NOTES 、i gotta thank my lovely mutual @hysterotic for helping me flesh out ideas for this one. love you babe also depending on how well this does. i’ll do part 2 LMFAO

The air is tense on the ride to church. The sun casts the world in a warm glow as it slowly rises beyond the horizon and you keep your eyes fixated on the blur of trees passing by as your father drives and taps his finger impatiently on the steering wheel.

You sigh softly and look into the rear view mirror at his reflection. “Daddy, what’s wrong?” You ask gently and you hear your father sigh almost tiredly.

“Nothing, sweetheart it’s just…” He contemplates it for a moment before shaking his head. “Don’t worry about it, okay? I don’t want you feeling burdened in any way this morning.” It’s Sunday, of course he didn’t want you feeling anything but the spirit of the Heavenly Father washing over you.

You hum rather defeatedly, resting your chin in the palm of your hand and staring out the window once more. “Mkay..” You mumble out, saddened your father didn’t feel like he could share whatever wad weighing hard on him but maybe the Lord could help ease the heavy feeling he has today. You close your eyes and say a small prayer just as you feel the familiar turn onto the gravely trail that leads up to the church you’ve spent your entire life going to.

The pearly white chapel comes into view and your eyes gravitate to the sight, a smile tugging at the corners of your lips as you see other members pulling up around the same time as you and your father and mother. You sit up straight as your father parks the car and tugs the keys out, fixing your sundress as you wait patiently for your father to exit first before following soon after.

The familiar faces by the church, idly chatting all turn and smile at the sight of you. The older women compliment you, saying you look like an angel as always in those pretty sundresses you always wore.

You’d giggle bashfully in response to their compliments, cheeks warm to the touch as you thank them and compliment them back before the sound of a loud rumble echoes out and you turn to look over your shoulder at the road as a noisy motorcycle pulls into the spot beside your parents’ car. You squint your eyes due to the harsh brightness of the morning sun peeking through the distant trees and into your field of vision as you try to get a good look at the individual. It’s hard to see much until the person gets off the bike shortly after and starts coming toward you.

“For christ— Ahem, you took your sweet time getting here didn’t you, son?” A loud voice from behind you speaks up. You notice the way your father seems to hold a cold stare you’ve almost never seen on his face before as he watches the guy approaching you chuckle, a deep rumbly sound that has you surprised to hear such a deep voice.

“Took the scenic route.” He says with a grin in his voice and as the bright leaks of sunlight hide behind his tall frame, you finally get a good look at his face. And boy did you feel your heartbeat quicken.

His eyes look down into yours and you instantly tear your stare away and focus on the ground beneath you. Grass has never looked so greener before until now.

Your father reluctantly shakes hands with the guy whose appearance is not very fitting, nor would you consider it appropriate for church service. The black ripped jeans with a chain dangling on them, dirtied combat boots, a learner jacket on and somewhat hiding the black band tee he wore underneath. It had a print of a music band you’ve never heard of and it left you feeling curious. You’ve never heard such music before. Anything remotely inappropriate or dark and taboo wasn’t allowed in your parents’ house.

You feel like you’ve stared for too long and look over to your mother for guidance and she gives you a knowing look before subtly glancing at the church doors. You excuse yourself but shortly after, everyone else is coming into the quiet place and the sounds of footsteps and quiet chatter echo throughout the building. You take a seat on the long bench you’ve always sat at while your mother sits on the other side of the church at a different place. You see the man that had talked rather loudly behind you earlier come in along with who you presume is his wife and a rather young looking teenage boy, but where was the motorcycle guy that he had called ‘son’?

“Hey,” Your eyes widen at the sound of a low and deep voice in your ear and you whip your head around to look to your side where you see the aforementioned motorcycle guy. His black hair frames around his face and he smirks at you. “Did I scare ya?”

You blink a few times before shaking your head, mumbling a soft ‘no’ in response to which he chuckles at before letting his arm rest on the back of the bench, nudging your shoulders ever so slightly but you try to ignore it. Your father however is practically staring daggers into the boy when nobody’s eyes are on him before he stands up and prepares to start the day’s service.

You try to scoot away from the strange guy, keeping your eyes on those that sing and you can feel his eyes on and it makes goosebumps rise along your arms.

Suddenly you’re asked to sing and you feel your heart drop to the floorboards. You’ve never felt so nervous in all your life, it was something you were always asked to do by other members of the church so why did it feel so scary to do all of a sudden? Was it because of the mysterious boy beside you? Who knows. You swallow thickly, standing up with a tremble in your legs and hands so you grip onto the bench in front of you. You clear your throat quietly, trying to ignore the way your heart beats so wildly and so hard it makes your throat want to close up on you. You manage to start singing a hymn, one that everyone seemed to love hearing you sing the most and as you let your eyes flutter closed you relax your nerves and let the words flow through you and out into the world.

It’s only a few short minutes and then you’re politely sitting down but as you do so you feel something against the side of your thigh and see his own pressed snug against yours. Did he move closer or did you accidentally sit too close? You apologize in a whisper, trying to move away but he shakes his head at you with a smile tugging at the corners of his lips.

“Nah, I don’t mind, angel.” He says back, a whisper in a low voice only you could hear and it makes your heart flutter with an unfamiliar feeling as you force your attention back to those around you as people begin to testify.

You’re so focused on them all, nodding and feeling the spirit seep into your being that you don’t notice the unfamiliar touch against your dress as something slides up your thigh. It makes you tense up for a second when you realize and you glance at the guy who’s seemingly leaning a little too close for comfort but it would appear to others that he’s just trying to see the individuals that stand up and testify better.

“Don’t let temptation distract you from the words of God, doll.” He whispers with a grin on his face, eyes flicking down to your doe eyes that tear themselves away from his face and over to the other people.

He was right. No matter what he was doing, whatever it might’ve been… It was just the devil trying to keep you in his hold. Yet it was so hard to focus when the pads of his fingers grazed over your panties making you shiver slightly.

You didn’t know what he was doing. You’ve never been touched anywhere by anyone before, especially down there, but it was a rather nice and foreign feeling that you found yourself wanting just a little more of. Unconsciously, your legs spread just enough to let his hand cup your clothed sex and he rubs his index and middle against your panties until he feels a damp patch that makes him bounce his knee to keep himself from dragging your foolishly innocent self out of the church and fucking you in the bathroom.

Your father mentions an individual’s name for them to lead into prayer and everyones, including your own, heads turn down and al eyes are closed as silence envelopes the church and the only voice heard is a wretched sinner crying out for the Heavenly Father as he gets on his knees and prays.

You’re focused on listening to his words, feeling the pain he’s burdened with carrying as your brows knit together and you listen thoughtfully. Then something cold and foreign pushed against your nether regions and your thighs twitch as your eyes open and you glance to the guy beside you. He grins sinisterly, like he was the devil incarnate and you shiver under his gaze.

“Listen to ‘im, angel. Hear the cries of a fellow sinner and pay attention.” He whispers with a sick chuckle as he pushes his digit into your warmth and nudges it against your gummy walls. It’s uncomfortable for a few seconds, a new and foreign feeling you’ve never felt before but you unknowingly clench around him as he begins to pump it at a rather quick pace that has pleasure tingling in your gut suddenly as you squeeze your eyes shut and try to block out whatever he was doing to you in attempts to distract you.

Was it wrong? Was this something bad that he was doing to you? You didn’t know and couldn’t find the right answer you tried to search for in your mind. Whatever it was, it had a great effect on you and when you opened your eyes and prayer ended, tears blurred your vision but not from the Holy Spirit overwhelming you, oh no, it was that guy’s hand that overwhelmed you.

A tight coil burns hot in your belly as your legs tremble and you force yourself to straighten up and stare onward as your father stood to his feet and started to preach. Your mind was clouded, hazy and lagged behind on the words and sounds that met your ears but the warm breath tickling the side of your neck kept you alert and on edge in more ways than one.

You bite your bottom lip, trying to hear your father’s words as it touches the souls of many in the church. Your brows twitch, eyes gliding over the various people and a wave of feel-good tingles seeps into your being and your eyes flutter closed for a moment, a soft sigh leaving you glossy lips.

Your father’s preaching reaches its peak just as your thighs squeeze around the strange guy’s hand tightly, as if they never wanted him to leave and then euphoria washes over you. Like being hit by the Holy Spirit, your body tenses up and warmth floods your being as a sharp but quiet gasp leaves you and you curl in on yourself, hands gripping the cushion of the bench by your thighs. You heave quick breaths, heart racing in your chest as those digits curl into something incredibly sensitive inside of you before pulling away and you’re left feeling empty and exhausted.

You watch with half lidded eyes as he raises his hand up towards his face, it’s glistening with something slick on it and you wonder if it came from you. The thought embarrassed you to no end and when he popped the digits into his mouth, sucking the substance off them and then grinning at you as he shoved his hand into his pocket, it made you feel pulled towards him as if you couldn’t get enough despite knowing he was no good for you.

Your cheeks feel warm to the touch, cupping your hands against the hot flesh as you try to slow your breathing and shortly after, church has ended and people are socializing outside. You muster up the strength to stand on legs wobbly like a newborn fawn, hearing that boy chuckle at you as he gets up and walks away like nothing had happened. It saddens you a bit, you had felt some type of connection because of that strange interaction with him but you try to ignore it and move on just like he was so easily able to.

You manage to get out of the church, heading for the car earlier than your parents would’ve liked. You felt so lightheaded you just needed somewhere a little more private to cool off for some reason. You don’t get there in time before that boy is reaching you however.

“Aw, leavin’ already?” He’s teasing, he knows he’s the reason you feel so odd right now and the more you look at him the more you want to cling onto him. Thoughts that aren’t your own begin to fill your head, inappropriate and so lewd it makes you shiver with a mix of disgust and embarrassment directed toward yourself.

“I just need to cool off.. It’s warm out today.” You try to reason, voice a bit strained and shaky as you try to stand up straight but it’s obvious you’re a horny wreck in his eyes and he chuckles at you.

“S’that it? Just got too hot?” He takes a few steps towards you, an unreadable look in his eyes and you struggle to hold his gaze as you fumble over your words until he’s got you cornered with your back against the car. Those wide doe eyes, glassy with need, almost gets under his skin. He grins and it makes your stomach do flips when he looks at you that way. “Y’sure it’s not because I touched ya right here?” His hand forces its way between your trembling thighs and nudges against your nether regions making your breath hitch in your throat as you stare at him completely stunned.

Your hands grab at his wrist, shaky and weak as you attempt to pull him off but he only stops terrorizing your poor little innocent heart when he hears footsteps approaching.

He pulls away, straightening his posture while you push yourself off the car slowly as if you were in a daze at the moment.

“Is something wrong?” It’s your father, concern laced in his voice as he gives you a protective glance and moves towards you all while giving the boy an odd look.

The black haired guy scoffs with a smirk. “Nah, was j’st talkin’ to her is all.” He says it in a way that’s either condescending, sarcastic or as if he wasn’t saying the full truth. It’s hard for your brain to decipher properly anyways as your eyes bore into the grass beneath you, looking at anything but him.

“I’d much rather prefer if you didn’t speak to my daughter, Jeff Mason.” Your father says and it’s only now that you’ve learned the guy’s name. Your eyes flicker up to his face only to find him already looking back and shyness gets to you, making you tear your gaze from his.

There seems to be a tension between your father and Jeff, a staring contest ensues for a few moments that begin to feel like hours until that man you’d heard speaking before church comes up to the three of you.

He forces a smile and puts a hand on Jeff’s shoulder, squeezing a little too tight. “Jeffrey here will be sure to do that. Won’t you, son?” There’s an underlying authority to his voice as he looks at Jeff who glares back silently before shaking his hand off and walking towards his motorcycle with not a single word to follow.

The middle aged man chuckles awkwardly and tries to make small talk with your father but it doesn’t do much, if anything it would seem your father didn’t like either of them and that made you more curious than it should have.

You walk around the car to get into the car without disrupting their— very tense and awkward —conversation, trying to ignore Jeff who’s standing by his bike with his eyes glued onto you.

“Hey, Mary.” He calls out and you blink a few times before turning to look at him. He grins, “Yeah, you.”

“That’s.. That’s not my name, Jeff.” You didn’t even mean to say his name. It just spilled out by accident, he repeats the way you say it on loop in his head immediately.

“Sure it isn’t.” He grins with a teasing tone and crosses his arms as he looks you up and down slowly, undressing you with his eyes but you’re none the wiser. He finally looks at your face and smiles wickedly. “I’ll see ya around won’t I, angel?”

Your hold on the handle of the car door tightens a bit at the way he says it, heart fluttering in your chest and your knees weak. You feel a little bold, taking a deep breath as you hold his gaze. “Are you implying you’ll come to visit more often?” You meant the church, it’s obvious in the way you say it that you meant it in a church setting. But Jeff is far too sick and twisted to accept it as just that and that alone.

He chuckles at you, an unfamiliar glint in his eyes. “Heh, y’gonna see me a lot more often than just here.”

[diorsluv]

casual , part 3

“ i’ve heard so many rumors ”

series m. list previous chapter next chapter

( socialmedia!au )

yourusername

liked by mackie.samo, jackhughes, and 259,226 others

yourusername post workout glow 🙈

view all comments

vivianliu mommy

→ yourusername whaaaaaat ⁉️⁉️⁉️

→ _quinnhughes …

→ rutgermcgroarty 📸📸

→ edwards.73 wtf

→ jackhughes no absolutely not

→ luca.fantilli HUH

→ dylanduke25 WHAT

→ vivianliu stop acting like i’ve never said ts before 🙄

edwards.73 you’re really fucking hot

liked by yourusername

→ lhughes_06 FUCK NO

→ jackhughes STEP THE FUCK BACK

→ _quinnhughes hey man what the FUCK

→ vivianliu GET THE HELL AWAY FROM MY GIRL

username14 ETHANS COMMENT?????!?!?!?!?!?!

markestapa pretty girl 🫣

→ yourusername that’s so unnatural stop

→ markestapa just doing what the homies do

→ lhughes_06 did the lack of my presence fuck with your heads because i explicitly told everyone to NOT mess w my sister.

→ markestapa suck it up lil bro

mackie.samo GODDAMN

→ yourusername LMFAOOOO

→ jackhughes back the hell up dude

→ _quinnhughes this is a literal fever dream

username54 rumors aint rumors anymore

username38 ethan’s practically screaming their relationship status to the world rn

colecaufield i’m not a part of this in any way but you genuinely look really good rosie

→ yourusername awwww thank you ☺️

→ jackhughes if you ever fucked around with my sister i would punch you in the face

→ colecaufield I HAVENT AND I WONT I SWEAR

→ jackhughes YEAH U BETTER NOT CUZ IM READY 🤺

sidneycrosby_87_ looking great kiddo!

→ yourusername oh my god sidney crosby.

→ lhughes_06 OH MY GOD SIDNEY CROSBY???

→ jackhughes this isn’t fair

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rutgermcgroarty 🥴

→ yourusername 🤭

→ lhughes_06 i can’t tell if you’re flirting because you’re best friends or if you’re flirting to fuck

→ rutgermcgroarty whaaaaa i would never do such a thing and you know that luke (my door is open yourusername)

→ yourusername we’re flirting AS A JOKE because you’re gone now and you can’t dictate shit anymore 🙄 lhughes_06

username45 LMFAO did ethan ask everyone to say shit to cover his comment

mackie.samo i see you’re working out without me now 🤨

→ yourusername YOU LEFT ME. what was i supposed to do 😔😔

→ mackie.samo YOU WEREN’T SUPPOSED TO MOVE ON

→ yourusername IM HAPPIER NOW 🤬

→ markestapa what is this 😟

adamfantilli woha

→ adamfantilli owah

→ adamfantilli woah

→ yourusername are you malfunctioning

→ adamfantilli yes (i was told to)

jackhughes did you redecorate your room??

→ yourusername yes my man helped me redecorate 🥰

→ jackhughes YOUR MAN????

→ lhughes_06 WHO THE HELL

→ yourusername guys it was a joke..

→ lhughes_06 your life is a joke

→ yourusername ?!???!????!

_quinnhughes i know who it is.

→ yourusername no u dont

→ lhughes_06 TELL ME

→ jackhughes WHO IS IT

→ trevorzegras congrats to the only hughes brother with a brain 🥳

→ jackhughes HEY

→ lhughes_06 NOT COOL TREVOR

→ rutgermcgroarty the fact that it took you this long is concerning

→ markestapa okay she ACTUALLY told you rutgermcgroarty

→ dylanduke25 fr the rest of us had to find out DIFFERENTLY

→ edwards.73 you guys are kinda slow

username55 i know someones gonna come back for this post tn…

→ username97 LMFAOOO

→ username21 STOP DONT EXPOSE HIM LIKE THAT

username38 UR SO PRETTY

username30 GIRLLLL give us the workout routine please 😞🙏

username88 body goals hello????

trevorzegras ur bed was not in that corner last time i was there

→ yourusername i redecorated we already said so 🙄

→ jackhughes since when were you in my sister’s apartment??

→ trevorzegras i was in town for a game

→ jackhughes but detroit is 45 mins away????

→ trevorzegras WE WERE THERE FOR THREE DAYS

→ yourusername jack he was helping me set up my ikea dresser 😭😭

→ vivianliu i know someone’s absolutely LIVID

dylanduke25 WOW SO PRETTY

→ yourusername THANK U DUKER

→ dylanduke25 YOU’RE WELCOME

username96 help i audibly screamed when i saw this post

yourusername

liked by markestapa, _alexturcotte, and 153,256 others

yourusername some of the guys invaded girls night at 12 in the morning and then literally kicked us out of my own room ⁉️⁉️

tagged: vivianliu, markestapa, g.brindley4, rutgermcgroarty, dylanduke25, luca.fantilli

view all comments

edwards.73 why was i not invited

→ yourusername u didn’t come idk i thought u were busy like always

→ edwards.73 but you know i would never be too busy for you

→ yourusername lmao doesnt really seem like it tho

vivianliu and they burnt our fucking cookies

→ yourusername FR almost burnt the apartment down 🙄

→ dylanduke25 THAT WASN’T EVEN US

→ vivianliu U KNOW DAMN WELL THAT WAS U AND RUT

→ rutgermcgroarty WHY ARE U BLAMING ME???

g.brindley4 oh my god i’m on the main

→ yourusername YOU’RE ON THE MAIN ‼️

username38 mark wearing sunglasses in a dark ass room 😭

dylanduke25 rut’s ass was in my face and i swear he fucking ripped ass like three times

→ yourusername HELLO WHAT??? I DONT REMEMBER THIS

→ rutgermcgroarty I LITERALLY DIDNT THO??

→ luca.fantilli i could smell that shit from the other room

→ g.brindley4 the absolute STENCH

username32 luca could not have been comfortable sleeping in that position 😭

→ username80 men are weird

username67 AHHH PINK COOKIES

luca.fantilli cuddling with the homies 🥴🥴

→ yourusername oh my god

→ markestapa 😘

→ dylanduke25 im blushing ☺️☺️

→ g.brindley4 best couple!

→ rutgermcgroarty 😝

→ vivianliu you’re all so weird

trevorzegras marky lookin kinda cute tn 🫣

→ yourusername STOP

→ markestapa yes i’ll go out with you!

mackie.samo um. i facetimed him and hes kicking, screaming and crying?!?!?

→ yourusername oops

→ mackie.samo yeah what a big fucking oops 🙄

→ vivianliu HES THE TOXIC ONE

username77 getting kicked out of your own room is crazy

username48 ethan’s definitely punching the air rn

_alexturcotte what happened to the boyfriend

→ yourusername technically he’s not my boyfriend cuz he doesn’t like labels!

→ colecaufield 😭😭

→ yourusername HIS WORDS NOT MINE

→ trevorzegras imagine what’ll happen when your brothers find out 😂

→ yourusername 1. for the love of god stop using that emoji and 2. they wont find out!

→ _quinnhughes i found out

→ yourusername besides you 😒😒

username79 ethan’s definitely regretting not putting a label on them

username92 do luke and jack never check the comments 😭😭

→ vivianliu they did but rosie gaslighted them into believing it’s not ethan and they barely pay attention to what the others say anyways

→ username60 LMAOOO

lhughes_06 WE NEVER HAD SLEEPOVERS WHEN I WAS THERE WHAT??

→ yourusername i’m the better sibling

→ vivianliu correct

→ rutgermcgroarty correct

→ edwards.73 correct

→ colecaufield correct

→ adamfantilli correct

→ trevorzegras correct

→ _alexturcotte correct

→ markestapa correct

→ luca.fantilli correct

→ mackie.samo correct

→ dylanduke25 correct

→ _quinnhughes not correct????

→ jackhughes INCORRECT TF

edwards.73 I CAN’T GET OVER THE FACT THAT YOU DIDN’T INVITE ME

→ yourusername IM SORRY I GEN THOUGHT U WERE JUST BUSY AGAIN

→ markestapa there’s no way you’re still on this

→ edwards.73 inv me next time 😔

next chapter notes ) happy april fools dayyy!! hope yall got some good pranks in 😈😈 and guys HE DOESN’T DO LABELS 😓

tags: @dancerbailey3 @hughesfein @loveforaugust @alwaysclassyeagle @love4ldr @inhoodmood

[natashascumslut]

You are you. - natasha romanoff

Summary: Natasha doesn’t believe she’s her own person, so Y/n reminds her she is.

Warnings: Angst?? i guess, sad Natasha, mentions of the Red Room.

a/n: i apologise if this is short and bad 😭 i wrote it on a walk like 20 minutes ago lmfao

You and Natasha where currently in the lounge of the avengers compound, it was very late. Neither of you knew why you were still up, but it seemed to be a common occurrence.

You waddled into the room with two glasses of water placed firmly in your hands, but as you glanced over at Natasha you felt something was off. She was staring off into the distance, and the glow that was in her eyes when you left the room had gone. You frowned.

“What’s wrong, natty?” You asked as you put the water down on the coffee table and sat down next to her.

She came out of her trance and her once glassy eyes met yours with a blank expression, and when she smiled, it didn’t reach them.

“Nothing.” She hummed, you raised an eyebrow at her. “Nat.” She looked away from you, avoiding your gaze.

“I just..” She paused, seeming unable to get the words out. You reached forward and took her hand, holding it reassuringly.

She let out a deep breath. “I’m not me. I’ll never be me. I’ll always be a product of the red room, i’ll never be a genuine person. Everything i am, came from there.”

You frowned, you knew that wasn’t true, everyone that knew Natasha knew that was not true. “That’s not true.” You said, but you knew she didn’t believe you.

“It is. Everything i am, an assassin, my ‘best’ features; bravery, willingness to fight, lack of fear. It comes from there.” She said as she looked away from you. You brought a soft hand to her cheek, gently moving her face so she was looking at you.

“That is not true.” You said, it was genuine. “You know what i think?” You asked as your thumb ran up and down on her cheek, she shook her head gently.

“I think all of that came from your mother, your bravery, your passion, your love. Every plus and every flaw. You’re a strong woman, Natasha. You’re still here, which is something not a lot of people in your situation would be able to achieve. You didn’t get the way you love from the red room, nor the way you stand up to every challenge. You are not the red room, Natasha. You are you.”

You said, you meant every word.

Her eyes became glassy again, expect this time it was from tears. She took a shaky breath in before speaking. “You really think so?” Her voice was quiet; weak. You nodded, “I really do.”

She moved forward, leaning into you. You held her as she cuddled up to you, her knees moving up to her chest.

“I love you, Natasha. All of you.” You hummed against her hair, kissing atop of it. All you got back was a weak sob, but that’s all you needed.

[landograndprix]

「Feel the magic ๛ l.n」

part vi

✧.* it seems you slowly but finally get your old self back, making lando insecure as your new found confidence catches the eyes of more than one driver.

✧.* boosting girlies confidence before we ruin it again, just a little filler. this is just a feel good part for girlie and some struggling for lando. This is a psa for the people who wanted to be on my taglist but never got tagged, i didn't forget or ignore you, I simply am unable to tag you and therefore removed you from the list feel free to ask me again so I can take a look at it. Taglist is open Love ya ❤️

✧.* prev part - next part

➽────────────────────────❥

y/nusername

liked by carlossainz55, pierregasly and 467,652 others

y/nusername live, laugh, love or something like that. ☀️

tagged: landonorris

view all 772 comments

julliettax I have to remind myself daily that I am in fact a straight married woman and that y/n is in fact a straight woman in a relationship and I'll never have a chance 🥵

simonsbat lando norris you lucky son of a bitch

patrishaaa y'all looking for a third?

norrizz 4th picture?!?! 😭

norry4 I know right?! Need someone to grab me like that (preferably lando but we've lost him) 😭

lan4lan well...they still together I see 🤮

milliewilde I hope lando can fight because my girl's been looking a little too good lately 😭

cecilemoulin you looking like a whole snack

hamilt44n GIRL DINNER GIRL DINNER

y/ncecile1 have you looked at yourself lately? 😍

charleeess16 crying at Pierre and Carlos creeping in her likes 😂

Hannahh we all know Pierre and Carlos are not liking this post because of lando..right? 💀

landonorris 😍😍

landoscar biggest simp on the grid

bott_ass if my girl looked like that..I would be the biggest simp too!

carlossainz55 🔥 🔥

carlandooo mans saw his ex getting her post red-bull glow up and remembered the good old days 😭

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y/nusername posted to their story

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mclaren

liked by landonorris, cecilemoulin and 199,762 others

mclaren front row locked in 🔒 P1 and P2 for the best team on the grid! 🧡

tagged: y/nusername, landonorris

view all 356 comments

mclarennorris oh we're so back!

charlos16 never ever did I think I'd see the day max verstappen gets out qualified let alone by his own teammate 😂

y/nluvv y/n had a shit ton of poles last season but red bull always fucked up her races..

landonorr now bring it back home pls

norrizz if y/n really loves lando, she'd let him have his first win tomorrow 😭

michael90 best team on the grid for sure!

hamilt44n getting y/n back on the team was definitely the right move! Lando doesn't have to carry the team on his back all by himself anymore.

maxfewtrell absolutely mental, those are my friends

fewtrelllando I saw your live stream, dude was about to cry happy tears 😂 sorry about your girlfriend not making it into q2 though 😔

maxmaxmax GIRLFRIEND?!

fewtrelllando yeah Cecile..still a rumor but they're together in my head lmfao..we out here being delulu on the main

thomasgoms absolute legends 🔥

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y/nusername

liked by pierregasly, milouberger and 462,751 others

y/nusername saturday nights 🌜

view all 713 commente

y/nbabeee celebrating that pole in style

norrizz just one chance that's all I'm asking 😭

mcnorrislando asking for attention much? 🤮

norry4 damn, girl can't even post normal pictures without getting shit on..I've got some advice, unfollow her..

jaden00 check your dms?

charles16 these desperate men in these comments are sending me 😂

landonorris damn girl, you come here often?

y/nusername leave me alone you freak, I've got a boyfriend.

lnfoour4 stfu lmfao y'all so dumb 😂

pierregasly 😍

bott_ass jesus christ no shame at all..

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Everything taglist; @thomaslefteyebrow @hopefulinlove @smoothopz @softboystarkey @honethatty12 @cixrosie @parkersmjs @ireadthensuetheauthors @celestialams @be-your-coffee-pot @heli991113 @kodzuvk @reality-is-a-con @80sloverry @bibissparkles @myescapefromthislife @lanando4 @elliegrey2803 @ravisinghs-wife

Feel the magic taglist: @celesteblack08 @mrsmaybank13 @cha-hot @judesgfirl @roseseraj @kissesandmartinis @jpg3 @amulhermaisfelizdomundo @marialovesf1 @silkenthusiasts @luvrrish @laneyspaulding19 @emily-b @formula1bby @buckybarnessweetheart @strawberrychita @iifloweringnightsii @buendiabebeta @jjsprobablywrong @babyvinnie @mishaandthebrits

Lando taglist: @beatricemiruna @simp-for-fictional-people @landossainz @christianpulisic10

[godblooded]

because @avalior is the worst enabler i hope yall are ready for a massive stark post because i have UTTER stark brainrot.

[pretzel-box]

Hi Chea!! hope your doing well hun <3

Could I possibly req a human Sebastian x human reader scenario where they're on a first date of stargazing or going to an aquarium?? I think it would be a really cute idea <333 (Im a sucker for human seb stuff lmfao)

Remember to take breaks and stay hydrated <3

-💫

Tags: Human AU, Established Relationship, Fluffy and Wholesome Aquarium Date

Words: 1k

You had never imagined that your first date with Sebastian would be anything grand or extravagant. For all his charm and playful teasing, he had a softer side, one that revealed itself in quieter, more intimate moments. So when he suggested an aquarium date, it felt like the perfect reflection of that softer part of him, the part he only let you see.

The aquarium was bathed in soft, bluish light that mimicked the depths of the ocean. The moment you both stepped inside, the world outside seemed to fade away. The sound of water lapping gently against glass and the occasional bubbling noises from the tanks filled the space, creating a serene ambiance. Sebastian, dressed in his usual dark attire but looking unusually more relaxed than usual, gently took your hand, lacing his fingers through yours with a quiet smile.

"Ready?" he asked, his voice barely more than a whisper, as if he didn’t want to disturb the peaceful atmosphere.

You nodded, feeling a giddy excitement at the thought of spending the day with him here. The two of you began walking through the dimly lit corridors of the aquarium, illuminated by the glow of the tanks. Everywhere you looked, you could see exotic marine life swimming gracefully through the water — schools of vibrant fish, jellyfish drifting like ethereal dancers, and the occasional sharp-toothed predator lurking in the background.

"Look at this one," Sebastian murmured, gently steering you toward a large tank filled with stingrays that glided like silent ghosts over the sandy bottom. His hand tightened around yours as he leaned in slightly, his face close to yours. "They’re incredible, aren’t they?"

You smiled, watching his profile as he stared into the tank, his eyes reflecting the blue of the water. "They really are."

It wasn’t just the beauty of the aquarium that captured your attention — it was the way Sebastian seemed to come alive in this environment. His usual teasing demeanor had softened, replaced by a quiet reverence for the creatures around him. He looked so at peace, standing beside you, and it was hard not to feel a little in awe of him.

As the two of you wandered further into the aquarium, you found yourself drawn to a large tunnel, the kind where the water surrounded you completely, creating the illusion that you were walking underwater. Sebastian led you inside, the walls of the tunnel curving overhead as sharks and manta rays swam lazily above you. The lighting was low, the only illumination coming from the tanks, casting a dim, dreamlike glow.

Without thinking, you leaned your head on Sebastian's shoulder. He didn’t move, didn’t tease or pull away like you half-expected. Instead, he let out a contented sigh and wrapped an arm around your waist, pulling you a little closer.

"You know," he began, his voice soft in the quiet space, "I’ve always liked aquariums. There’s something peaceful about watching the way everything moves… like they’re in their own world, separate from ours."

You looked up at him, surprised by his words. It was rare for Sebastian to open up about something personal. "I can see that," you said gently. "It’s calming."

He glanced down at you, his expression unreadable for a moment before a small smile tugged at the corner of his lips. "I’m glad I’m sharing it with you."

Warmth bloomed in your chest at his words, your heart skipping a beat. It was one thing to know that Sebastian cared for you, but hearing him express it so quietly, so intimately, made the moment feel even more special.

You continued through the tunnel, your pace slow and unhurried, neither of you in any rush to leave the peaceful serenity of the aquarium. At one point, you came to a stop in front of a particularly beautiful tank filled with colorful coral and bright, darting fish. Sebastian let out a small chuckle as one of the fish swam directly toward the glass, as if to inspect you both.

"Do you think they know we’re here?" he mused, his arm still resting around your waist.

You laughed softly. "Maybe. Or maybe they’re just curious."

His gaze flicked toward you, his expression warm and playful. "Just like me, then."

You rolled your eyes at his teasing tone but couldn’t help the smile that spread across your face. Sebastian had a way of making everything feel lighter, even in moments like these, where the quiet between you was thick with unspoken feelings.

Eventually, the two of you found yourselves at the final exhibit — a massive tank filled with various sea creatures, from sleek sharks to elegant turtles. The water shimmered in the dim light, casting rippling reflections on the floor and walls. It felt like stepping into another world entirely.

Sebastian paused, turning to face you fully. There was something different in his expression now, something more serious, more vulnerable. He reached up, gently brushing a strand of hair behind your ear before his hand lingered against your cheek.

"I wanted today to be special," he said softly, his thumb brushing lightly against your skin. "You deserve that."

Your breath hitched at the tenderness in his voice, the sincerity in his gaze. He had always been a bit of an enigma — playful one moment, distant the next — but in this moment, there was no pretense, no walls. It was just the two of you, standing together in the soft glow of the aquarium.

"It is special," you whispered, leaning into his touch. "Because I’m here with you."

For a moment, neither of you spoke, the only sound the gentle hum of the water around you. Then, slowly, Sebastian leaned in, his lips brushing against yours in the softest, sweetest kiss. It wasn’t rushed or demanding — it was gentle, full of warmth and emotion, like he was pouring all his unspoken feelings into that single, quiet moment.

When he pulled back, his forehead rested against yours, and his eyes stayed closed for a moment longer, as if he was savoring the closeness between you.

"I don’t think I’ve ever been this happy," he murmured, his voice barely audible, but the sincerity in his words was unmistakable.

You smiled, your heart swelling with affection for him. "Me neither."

The rest of the world seemed to fall away, leaving just the two of you, standing together beneath the shimmering water. As the fish swam lazily by and the soft light bathed you both, you knew that this was a moment you’d treasure forever — a perfect, quiet memory of your first date with Sebastian.

[ayyy-pee]

𝐓𝐞𝐧 𝐌𝐢𝐧𝐮𝐭𝐞𝐬

Pairing: Satoru Gojo x f!Reader

Day 2: Face Fucking

Warnings: MDNI, Smut, Profanity bc who do you think I am, Pussy Eating, Face Riding, Face Fucking, DID NOT PROOFREAD SO SORRY FOR ERRORS LMFAO

Summary: Satoru puts his mouth to good use for once.

You may be over Satoru, but Satoru is not and will never be over you. 

❥ Gojo NSFW Week Twitter - AO3 Collection ❥

Discord 18+ - Twitter - JJK Masterlist

“Why are we doing this again?”

“Because I don’t wanna do the mission. If I win, you gotta do it for me.”

“Satoru…” You groan, exasperated. “Are you really that lazy?”

Your boyfriend grins up at you. “Not lazy, but taking care of a Grade 2 curse sounds like a fucking drag and honestly, it’s a waste of my time.” He folds his hands behind his head, yawning loudly. 

“This is such a stupid bet,” you grumble and Satoru laughs.

“You’re always so tense. Either way, you literally come out on top, so really I’m doing you a favor.”

You cock your head to the side in annoyance, folding your arms over your chest as you glare down at your boyfriend. You wish you could see his eyes through that stupid blindfold he’s always wearing. You’re sure they’re positively glowing with mirth.

Your mind replays the events of earlier today and how you’d ended up in such a compromising position. 

- - - - - -

It should have been a day like any other. You’d teach your classes, maybe take the students on a mission, let them do their thing. Then you’d find Satoru at the end of the day to go home together. But when you’d bumped into your boyfriend coming out of Principal Yaga’s office with a sour look on his face, jaw tight with irritation, you couldn’t help but stop in your tracks to ask what was wrong. 

Your mistake.

“How would you like to gain some experience and maybe earn points with Yaga for a promotion,” Satoru proposed after explaining the situation. His wide, toothy grin shone brightly as he awaited your answer, which came the moment he’d finished asking.

“No.”

“Babe, come onnnnnn,” he whines, grabbing your hands. “Please, it’s an easy mission!”

“Then you do it!”

“I don’t wannaaaaaa.”

“God, Satoru, why are you literally the strongest and laziest person I’ve ever known?” You roll your eyes, pulling your hands from his grip to place them on your hips. Satoru pouts, and you’re grateful you can’t see those baby blues or you may have given in right then. His eyes were his greatest strength when it came to you, and not because of the power he held in them.

“Oh, I’m the strongest lazy person, but Suguru literally quit because he didn’t wanna do missions,” he grumbles under his breath. He crosses his arms over his chest. Satoru stands there, staring you down until you think you can quite literally see the bulb ding above his head. “Okay okay, wait. I have an idea.”

Your eyes narrow, looking your boyfriend up and down suspiciously. You have no idea what he could be up to, but you’re curious, if not a little scared.

“It’s just a bet,” he says as if that’s going to make you feel better. He must see the look of concern on your face because he scrambles to keep talking. “It’s just something we were probably gonna do anyway, but now we can make it a little more exciting.” He holds both his hands up in the air, wiggling his fingers and giggling to himself as though he’s just said the most hilarious thing. 

You’re still waiting for the punchline.

“What is it…” You ask warily…and you regret it immediately when Satoru leans down and brushes his soft lips against the shell of your ear, whispering.

“Let’s make a bet. When we get home, I want you to sit on my face. If I can make you cum in ten minutes or less, you take the mission for me.”

A tingle races up your spine, a slow warmth uncurling low in your belly. You’ve never done that with Satoru before. The thought fills you with excitement. Your lips curl with a smirk and you whisper back, a challenge in your voice. “And if you can’t?”

“Then I guess I’ll do the mission, but something tells me I won’t have to worry about that.” He nips your earlobe, grinning when you yelp. You shove his shoulder, effectively pushing him back. You try to resist smiling when you realize he has his infinity off for you. He always has it off for you. Only you. Such a romantic.

You could always go home and fuck Satoru until the sun comes up like it’s a normal Tuesday night. Or, you could take him up on his offer…and make him suffer a little in the process.

Satoru closes the distance between you and loops his arms around your waist, pulling you into him. “So? Do we have a deal?”

You wrap your arms around his neck, pulling him close enough to whisper against his lips, “Take us home.”

It’s instant. Space and time bend violently around you and Satoru covers your eyes, holding you tightly against his chest as he warps you both home.

- - - - - -

Now here you are, naked and straddling Satoru’s chest, suddenly feeling very self-conscious about what’s to happen next. Your eyes dart down to Satoru’s phone on the bedside table, the big fat 10:00 timer blinking brightly on the screen. All you have to do is not let him win. You don’t want the mission anymore than he does and he needs to learn he can’t just dump all of his responsibilities on other people. 

Satoru clears his throat, pulling you from your straying thoughts. “As much as I’m absolutely loving the view from down here, we don’t have much time before one of us…” he points only to you, “...has to be on this mission.” You purse your lips, the uneasiness you just felt quickly dissipating. Satoru’s hands find purchase on your waist, gently squeezing. “Look, if you’re worried you’ll smother me to death –” 

“Tempting,” you interrupt, grinning with Satoru frowns.

“Anywayyyy, if you’re worried you’ll smother me to death, don’t worry about it. I’m the strongest.”

You stare blankly at him while he stares amusedly back at you. You’ve heard enough. You scoot forward, your bare cunt hovering over Satoru’s face for a moment before you effectively shut him up, dropping your core right on to his lips. A muffled yelp can be heard from deep between your thighs, Satoru shifting beneath you to try and get comfortable. 

“Clock starts now,” you sing, leaning over quickly to tap the timer on his phone to start. The seconds tick down rapidly, Satoru just as eager as he groans into your center. His hands wrap around your thighs, spreading them further apart for him. His tongue grazes your clit, swirling around the sensitive bud over and over.

You try to stay focused, try to stare straight ahead at the damn headboard because you don’t want to give Satoru the satisfaction of being able to brag that he won. But it just feels too damn good, the way he works his tongue through your folds, how he kneads the soft flesh of your thighs, how he groans into your cunt, clearly enjoying himself.

Satoru gives your pussy one long, broad lick and groans. Your eyes fluttering closed and your head falling back. You bite your lip just as his tongue thrusts between your folds, sucking, licking and biting. Your thighs shake as you struggle to keep your hips from slamming down into Satoru’s face but god it feels so fucking good.

Satoru has always been…gifted in the bedroom. There’s very little he’s not good at and it’s showing now as Satoru’s hands graze along your thighs, around to your ass where his nails dig into your ass cheeks. He pulls you forward, urging you to move.

You roll your hips forward when Satoru gives your ass one last smack. He sucks on your clit, humming as his lips wrap around the bundle of nerves and the sudden choked sob that leaves your lips catches you off guard. 

“Fuck! Satoru, right there. Don’t stop!” You moan, your fingers reaching down to tangle into your boyfriend’s hair. 

Satoru doesn’t stop. He does it again and again until you’re a panting mess atop of him. He grunts into your core, squeezing your ass before smacking it hard. A strangled cry rushes past your lips. Your thighs tremble on either side of Satoru’s head and he chuckles, smacking your other ass cheek and relishing in the way your legs shake again.

Your hips rock back and forth along his tongue, Satoru’s fingers digging into the meat of your ass to push and pull you along his face. He wants you to go faster, go harder, ride his face until you drown him in your cum.

God, he knows what the fuck he’s doing with that annoying mouth of his. You were an idiot for agreeing to his bet because you can already feel the heat pooling in your core as the band inside your belly threatens to snap at any moment.

Satoru’s loving this, you can tell by the needy groans and breathy whines escaping him as he buries himself as deep into your cunt as he can go. It’s so filthy, the way his tongue laps at your core, tasting and relishing every last drop you have to offer. 

You’re panting, leaning forward now to grip the headboard. Satoru stops suddenly, reaching up and pulling his blindfold off of his face to reveal his eyes. He knows exactly what that does to you, that you’ll fall apart in those beautiful orbs that hold all the power of the universe in them. Satoru looks just as beautiful between your thighs, snowy locks spread wildly, his mouth wet with your slick. He kisses your thighs, trailing soft touches all the way up to your center, leaving a gentle peck to your core. Satoru smirks when you roll your hips forward at the contact, then he trails soft kisses back down your other thigh. 

His hands squeeze your ass softly just as Satoru pushes his tongue between your folds again and runs his tongue flat up your core.

“So good, Satoru. Fuck, that’s so good.”

“Yeah, baby?” He asks, voice muffled as he buries his face in your cunt again, licking and sucking your clit while you’re grinding your own hips down on him, pace harder and faster than before. You nod, the only sounds heard being the hushed moans that grow gradually louder as you grind your hips down against Satoru’s face and the lewd slurping of Satoru’s mouth as he laps at your slick cunt.

With one hand, Satoru spreads one of your cheeks. With the other, he easily slips two fingers into your drenched cunt. “Shitttttt,” Satoru moans into your pussy when he feels your pussy clamp down on him. He curls his fingers sharply, smirking when he feels your thighs immediately begin to quiver around his head. You’re so close. There’s no way you’ll make it much longer. “Need your cum, baby. I wanna taste it. I need it.”

You don’t even get a chance to answer him. His fucking phone alarm blares on the table next to the bed, effectively stopping his actions and your orgasm. 

“Fuck.” You lean over and tap the phone, Satoru’s fingers idly pumping into you. You take your position with shit eating grin on your flushed face. “Guess I won –”

Satoru pulls you back to sit on his face, tongue darting out to lap at your soaked pussy.

“Don’t give a fuck about the bet. Need to make you cum,” he mutters into your core, pumping his fingers in and out of your cunt. Your mouth falls open with a silent moan as Satoru wastes no time bringing you to the most earth shattering release of your life.

[chelseeebe]

‘til the world caves in: something in the orange

mdni 18+. smut. exfamous!steve x female reader. zombie apocalypse au! mentions of guns and violence throughout. no use of y/n!

a/n: this is my new iteration of the apocalypse au! i dabbled with it before but actually rlly like this one, matter of fact, most of the chapters are written already lmfao:) the famous part rlly is just there for this oneee specific scene i had in mind for a later part but it’s something different i guess

nobody cares who you are in the apocalypse. well, maybe except for you.

life before the outbreak had been weird enough for steve, his band had just started their rise to fame when all this shit went down.

it wasn’t exactly where he wanted to be at 19 but money and fame weren’t anything he was gonna say no to.

and then news broke that people had started eating each other’s faces and now he was no longer this up and coming star, rather just some guy trying to stay alive with some girl he’d met fleeing new york.

six years was more than enough time for them to become best friends, travelling through various camps and groups of people before they ended up somewhere in the middle of indiana.

steve’s never been here before and he wishes he wasn’t here now.

there’s nothing for miles and now robin’s leg is fucked, he thinks it might be the end.

the buttfuck town of hawkins indiana would be their demise.

they’d collapsed on the fence of some building, too dehydrated and tired to care. accepting a certain death as robin cries softly next to him, their fingers entwined as death awaits.

they were pretty delirious when they were picked up by some group. a tall man with a thick moustache and a lady with a sweet voice, helping them across town to their compound.

he’s not entirely sure what had happened when they’d arrived, he’d been bustled into a room and remembers collapsing on the bed with a pounding in his head before blacking out.

-

turns out he was out for days, waking up in the dark confines of a tiny box room with nothing else around him. admittedly, the lack of robin in his immediate vicinity scared the shit out of him.

all he can remember is that her leg was infected and her head was starting to hurt which was never a good sign.

a small, curly haired lady bursts into the room, startled to see him standing, “oh! you’re awake! great,” she smiles.

“where am i?” he asks, like a petrified child.

“you’re in hawkins,” she nods, “you were in a pretty bad state when we found you.”

nothing had ever felt so befuddling, jolting him back into survival mode as he realises his bag was nowhere to be found.

“where’s robin? we need to.. we have to go,” steve rushes, fearing the worst.

“she’s good, i think she was in the cafeteria.. we can go and get some food if you’d like?” the kind lady offers, pity in her eyes.

he nods, sceptical as he follows her out of the room and through the massive doors. there’s laughter from the other side, amazed at the sight of the light bulbs glowing white. electricity. nothing like the candles and flashlights they’d been using for years.

robin jumps up from the table the second he walks through, hobbling over with a few grunts and groans.

“you’re awake! oh my god steve, i’ve been so worried,” she frets, throwing her arms around his neck, trying to ignore the stares from the strangers in the room.

“you’re okay? i thought..” he exhales, not wanting to finish his sentence. “i don’t know.. fuck,” now robin was here and alive and in his arms, the overwhelming feeling of ten people gawping at him sinks in.

there’s nothing familiar about this place, it’s nothing like the places they’d stayed in, it feels like before.

“come get some food,” robin ushers, placing her hand on his back and very slowly walking to the table, “it’s nice here,” she leans in to whisper, “everyone’s super nice, they even have electricity!” she marvels, helping him to the empty seat.

she pushes her plate towards him, beans and some sort of meat. he hadn’t had a substantial meal in what felt like months, living off of foraged cans and jerky.

the crowd seems to back off at this point, leaving him and robin to eat. to try and digest this place despite feeling like he was in some crazy dream.

“we found some stragglers, out at the old school,” he hears a voice from behind, talking about himself and robin, “they were in pretty bad shape.”

steve doesn’t look around, continuing to eat his portion of robin’s dinner instead.

turns out he didn’t have to, as you arrive at his table, shotgun still strapped to your back and a thick layer of dirt all over your face.

“you the new guys?” you ask, looking between him and robin.

“yeah,” answering for the both of them, “robin,” extending her hand to meet yours.

you shake it, with a small, wary smile before turning your attention to steve, eyes narrowed as if you’re trying to place him.

“i remember you,” smiling with the side of your mouth, sizing him up. “steve harrington,” saying his name with such conviction, “newest member of in motion, weren’t you?”

he’s surprised that anyone would even care to remember him or the shitty boy band he was coerced into, “i mean, i was.. doesn’t really matter now though, right?”

you hum and he’s not sure whether it’s positive or not, “i used to be a fan,” steve couldn’t fathom someone like you ever being a fan of the shitty corporate pop he used to make. “maybe you can perform for us some day.”

it’s the first time in years that anyone has recognised him from before. unsure of how it makes him feel.

-

steve had presumed that he and robin were doing pretty well, they were alive weren’t they?

he’d found out that actually, neither of the two knew a single thing about proper, adequate survival skills and had gotten by with some grace of god.

he could shoot a gun, at least he thought he could. they typically just aimed and shot and hoped for the best rather than all of this.

you kick his feet further apart, barking shoulder width into his ear for the umpteenth time. it’s pretty hard to focus when you’re standing right behind him with your soft lips brushing against his ear every few seconds.

robin takes to it like a duck on water, keeping her arms straight and the gun in line with her eye. how the fuck does she know all of this shit?

steve fires and subsequently misses the makeshift target, cursing under his breath with a nasty side eye to robin who hits it straight in the drawn on face.

“steve,” you warn, walking over to him with a slight frown, “keep it steady, that kick back is no joke.”

he pulls a face, realigning the gun to his eye and tries again.

missing the target entirely this time.

“okay,” you sigh, the feel of your arms wrapping around his startle him for a second before the rest of your body presses against his back.

oh god.

it’d look pretty weird if he popped a boner while on shooting practice, he thinks.

it’s not as if human contact is a thing he encounters regularly, how was his body supposed to know the difference?

your chin rests on his shoulder, peering over at the target, hands coming to sit atop of his sweaty ones as you aim for him.

“that good?” you ask, breath tickling his ear.

it felt good, felt very good actually. your chest flat against his back, his breathing falling into to time with yours.

“ye- yup,” he flutters, almost choking on the words.

steve get it together.

“so go,” you order.

his finger presses the trigger, the bullet flies through the target, straight between the eyes.

“there you go!” you celebrate, the warmth of your body on his disappearing as you come to join him at his side.

he and robin share a look, robin’s smirk was unmistakable, steve knew what she was thinking, somehow he always did.

“go again, just you this time,” nodding with encouragement.

his thoughts are jumbled, preoccupied with the want for you to touch him again. just this time, maybe somewhere more private.

but he does it. the painted on silhouette is hit straight through the forehead, garnering a whoop from robin.

“you’re getting the hang of it,” you smile, fingers brushing over his as you take the gun from his hand. it makes him shiver, electricity pulsing between you. “don’t worry, we can come back out here another day,” sharing a look that lingers just a little too long.

you collect robin’s gun and announce something about lunch but steve can’t focus, still attempting to collect himself from a puddle on the floor.

“man, if you don’t get in there, i’m going to,” robin quips, slapping him quite harshly on the back.

“fuck off,” he hits back, trying to shake the loud, intrusive voice in the background of his mind.

there wasn’t much time for love and relationships while he had to fight the undead. a small part of him wonders if maybe now it’s possible, in here, with you.

okay, he’s definitely getting ahead of himself.

-

you don’t help steve’s delusions when you join him and robin at their table for breakfast, making sure to slide into the seat directly opposite just so he can try not to choke on his food.

“you guys settling in okay?” you ask, not really looking at robin at all, eyes glued to his.

“y-yeah, it’s nice here,” he sputters, trying to focus on the bowl of porridge in front of him.

“good,” you smile, sickeningly sweet.

robin’s foot swiftly connects with his leg, coughing on his mouthful as he returns the favour. he knows what she’s getting at, he’d divulged his fantasies to her a couple nights ago.

they’d been allocated separate rooms but hadn’t dared to separate yet, holing up in steve’s bed as they got used to this place.

you look up again, as if you want to ask something, “i think uh.. a few of the kids found out you were in a band and they wanted to know if you’d sing for them at some point?”

steve narrows his eyes, not forgetting that you’d already revealed yourself as a fan, “they asked?” quirking his brow.

your lips pucker, jabbing at your food in an attempt to hide, “well..” looking up at him through spindly lashes, “maybe not just them.”

he feels this intangible sensation in his chest, a burning that aches his insides.

“okay,” he smiles, managing to keep it down, “i’ll sing for y- them,” hoping no one pulls him on his freudian slip, cheeks burning scarlet.

your eyes light up, the whole world encapsulated within your iris’, a sight he already dreamed of.

he feels like a teenager again, wondering if the pretty girl on the other side of the table liked him back.

-

“ready?” you nod, slinging your backpack over your shoulder.

steve’s been anxiously awaiting his first shift on watch, scared about the prospect of accidentally fucking up and someone dying or something like that.

so for his first shift, he’d been graciously paired with you on the back wall. he’s been told there’s never much action there, usually a few stray infected but nothing too serious.

it doesn’t help that you’re in some ridiculously skimpy vest with the tightest pants he’s seen. there’s not a chance in hell that he’ll be able to keep his mind focused.

the pair of you stroll over to the wall, climbing the rusty old tower and relieving argyle and will from their positions.

grateful that you were given the evening shift as the hot july sun is setting and the breeze is beginning to kick in.

you immediately slump into the camp chair, slinging your bag from your back and kicking your heavy boots off, clunking against the metal as they land.

“so.. now we just sit here?” steve asks, cocking a brow at your relaxed disposition.

“yup,” nodding along as you squint up at him. “back wall’s never too exciting, i bet we don’t see a soul.”

“yeah.. okay,” he nods too, taking a seat in the adjacent camp chair, praying for a quiet night.

time ticks on for what must be hours, the courtyard had gone quiet and all he can really hear is your gentle breaths and a cricket somewhere in the long grass.

it must be gone 2am by now and you’d not seen a single thing, not even any infected.

steve can feel your eyes on him, not daring to look over until you start speaking.

“bored yet?”

he shakes his head, he wasn’t. this was pretty exhilarating if he was honest. every time you spoke to him, his heart rate seemed to soar.

“no, no this is nice.”

“the quiet?” you question, tilting your head to the side.

“yeah.. i feel like i haven’t really stopped since we got here.”

there’d been copious amounts of training and the like since he had properly recovered. nancy had shown him how to tie and set up traps. dustin had attempted to explain how you guys had power, though he couldn’t really grasp it.

and you, you had shown him how to shoot and fight and how to use a knife correctly rather than just flailing it around and hoping for the best.

“you’re not a bad watch partner, some of them are so annoying,” rolling your eyes in jest, snickering quietly.

steve smiles, genuinely. he hadn’t really experienced anyone other than robin’s company for a long time and while he loved her to death, it was nice to speak to someone else.

“you’re not too bad yourself,” shying away after his pathetic attempt at flirting.

there had been a fair amount of consideration and a perhaps a little bit of delusion but he had dwelled on it and came to the conclusion that he really liked you.

probably more than he should do at this point.

you pout your lips, considering something before starting, “you know.. there’s something else we could do to pass the time..”

he stares, befuddled for a moment until the glint in your eye makes it all click.

“oh,” is all that comes out of his suddenly very dry mouth.

there’s a flash of hurt and maybe embarrassment on your face, “or not.. i mean- i was just.. forget it,” squeezing your eyes shut as your palm hits your forehead.

“no! god no! i didn’t think you’d want to.. y’know, here..” terrified that he had screwed up his one chance.

not only would he have to leave hawkins, he’d probably have to curl up and die somewhere out of sheer embarrassment and regret.

“i wouldn’t have asked if i didn’t want to,” you shrug, uncurling from your blushing state.

steve almost falls from the rickety chair, “of course i do.. is it a good idea?” motioning over the wall somewhere, “with the watch and stuff..” eager to not disappoint the rest of his new group mates.

“we haven’t seen a thing all night.. we’re not being relieved for another few hours.”

“i don’t.. i don’t think i’ll need a few hours,” hell, ten minutes would be fairly optimistic.

a smirk nudges at your lips, standing from your chair to perch in front of him, hands on his shoulders as you take one last quick peek around.

“you’re sure?” you ask, as if he wasn’t gazing up at you like some pathetic puppy dog right now.

“so sure,” nodding enthusiastically. hesitant to touch you until you smile down at him, egging him on.

“get on the floor,” you instruct, still leering over the metal barriers, “just in case.”

he does as he’s told, sitting back against the wall with a lopsided grin as his heart rate increases tenfold.

it’d been years since he’d had sex. he supposes there was that one girl at the third or fourth camp they were in but she was pretty weird and a little obsessive. it only happened once and then he couldn’t bring himself to do it again.

but you’re smiling now, resting on his thighs and he thinks his heart might give out. there’s no certainty that he’ll even be able to last long enough for you to get any enjoyment from it but he’s willing to try.

a moment passes, eyes locked as you lean down, pressing a gentle yet excited kiss to his lips, it’s more human contact than he’s had in years.

you waste no time, fumbling with the button on his pants, sighing as you pop the button, waiting for him to return the honour.

steve lifts both of your bodies, barely kicking his jeans off before you sit back down, his fingers tingling with pure excitement as they unbutton your pants.

they end up somewhere in the pile of discarded clothes, focusing your attention back on his lips, carelessly connecting your lips.

your hips rock back and forth, sending a deep grumble from his throat to yours as his dick twitches in his boxers. he might as well not even bother to actually have sex, he was about to cum right then and there.

it’s made worse when your middle and index finger slide into the waistband of his boxers, struggling to stay afloat as you tug the material down just under his balls, cock springing up the second it’s freed.

you position your hands on his shoulders, looking down at him with wet lips, the only sounds are the crickets watching this degeneracy.

your hands find their place on his shoulders, holding yourself up while his fist finds his cock, lining himself up with your entrance, heart rate skyrocketing as you gasp above him.

his fingernails graze your skin, leaving indentations in the soft flesh, unable to contain the husky groan that escapes his lips.

your palm slaps over his mouth immediately, eyes wide as your hips rock, “you have to be quiet,” you hush though the smirk tugging at your lips tells him you’re not angry.

steve feels electric, pulsing through his veins with every slight movement you make, garbling into your palm when your pace quickens.

bouncing on his cock, making the entire structure creak and wobble.

he realises now that it’s silent, how obvious the sounds of sex are, skin slapping against skin as you squeak and grunt alongside it.

you’re insane, keeping your hand firmly over his mouth as you use his shoulder for leverage, rolling your hips and squeezing around him.

he’s about ready to cum already, there’s no surprise there. but he’s trying his hardest to hold out, to let you get something from this before he blows his load.

clinging on to your hips for dear life as they roll, eyelashes fluttering against his cheeks while he turns to utter mush behind your hand.

“oh shit,” you whine, clit nudging against his pubic bone, louder than he could ever be.

that’s it, hearing you whine sends his stomach lurching, with barely enough time to life your body from his lap before he explodes.

hips stuttering into the air as you watch with bated breath, still covering his mouth as a series of expletives tumble out, muffled and breathless.

steve’s never felt so embarrassed and yet so good all at once, the back of his head thwacking against the metal panel as he floats back to earth.

you rest atop of his thighs, nibbling on the skin of your bottom lip. there’s a silence that makes him want to crawl up the side of the barrier and let infected rip him apart.

he wants to apologise for his premature ejaculation, a little ashamed that he couldn’t prove himself to you but before he can conjure up the appropriate apology, your finger tilts his chin upwards, to meet your eyes.

you stifle it for a minute before bursting into a fit of giggles, “it’s okay.. maybe next time.”

albeit a very vague promise of a next time, steve starts to beam, still catching his breath as you shuffle off of his thighs, pulling your panties on as you lay back on the floor, gesturing for him to join you.

dawn breaks around the two of you, the birds rising to sing their song as you lay on the uncomfortable metal grates next to him.

it’s so serene, a picturesque view peeking from outside the little hut.

this is a feeling steve had thought he may never experience again, content with his life despite the rest of the world crumbling outside of the walls.

it’s something in the orange hue, an aching feeling that he owes to blind optimism. a spark of hope, remnants of a fear to lose anyone else.

to lose you.

your tongue pokes from the side of your lips, sighing softly, “there’s something i have to tell you.”

he turns, watching your face fall. apprehensively awaiting the harsh truth you were about to unleash.

“go on..”

this time you sigh loudly, exhausting the air from your lungs, “my ex.. lives here too. he’s out on a run to fort wayne at the moment but, they’re due back anytime now and i just need to pre-warn you that he’ll probably be a bit of an ass when he finds out.”

relief washes through his body. was that it?

crazy psycho exes weren’t something new to steve, albeit a long time since he’s had to even think about anything like that, but he doesn’t care.

“oh my god,” he exhales, “you scared me.. i thought you were ‘bout to say something crazy,” chuckling at his preemptive fear.

you whack his arm, “i’m being serious,” turning your head to glare at him, “he’s not.. the nicest person and he definitely won’t be nice about this.”

“what’s wrong with him?” steve asks, genuinely. they’d crossed paths with a lot of fucked up people in the six years since this had started but he had never believed that anyone truly bad could live somewhere as nice as this.

those places always seemed to crumble, he’d seen it enough times to know. people had taken the apocalypse as a means to become awful people, dictating the lives of everyone around them as if you weren’t all trying to do one thing.

survive.

you sigh, scrunching your nose, “he and his uncle have been here from the start of it all, helped build this place to what it is now. but his uncle, wayne, left a year back.. went to try and find his brother, eddie’s dad.. and now eddie’s just eternally pissed off about it.”

steve contemplates your words, knowing he’d probably also be incredibly infuriated too. family, real blood family, was a rarity nowadays. most people had lost most, if not all of any semblance of family by now. he was astounded to arrive here and find real family, joyce had her sons, nancy had mike, even lucas had his sister.

“oh.. that’s.. it’s understandable, i guess,” not quite finding the right words.

you nod, biting on the inside of your cheek. you’re holding something back, steve’s not sure what and he’s certainly not going to ask now. unwilling to ruin the moment.

“why’d you guys break up?” considering if he’d like to get in the middle of some complicated, messy situation.

for you? definitely.

“i dunno.. he was just so angry, he let it consume him,” a certain twinge of sadness to your tone.

“and he took it out on you?”

you scoff a little, “me and everyone else.. look, does it help if i say that he probably won’t shoot you?”

steve hums, “not really.”

that does it, brings your smile back as you crack up shaking hysterically as you turn back to the sky.

“i still think you should sing for us all,” changing the subject completely.

steve groans, wiping the layer of sweat from his forehead. before all this, he would’ve said that he preferred summer but now that there were corpses roaming the streets, he definitely favoured winter. that stench is something he’ll never forget, rotting flesh and hot july sun were not a good mix.

“didn’t i already agree to sing for the kids?” he teases.

you’re interrupted from any further begging as nancy’s voice rings out from below, “hey guys? you there?” worry embedded into her voice.

“shit,” you hiss, shooting up as you grab your pants. “sorry.. sorry,” apologising for your lack of clothing and the accidental fright you’d given them.

“oh wow okay,” nancy bites from down below, laughing her head off, jonathan covers his eyes to give you a little privacy as you pull your jeans on, “how’d i know that you two were gonna fuck this up?”

“yeah yeah, shut up,” you rush, cheeks burning as you jump into your clothes.

steve shuffles over sliding his pants back on as he turns beetroot red, not only was this his first shift, it was also the first time he was showing everyone that he was a capable person to keep around. he’s not so sure they’ll agree now.

nancy and jonathan climb up the ladder, a bemused expression shared across their faces, “quiet night?” nancy asks, cocking her head to the side.

“something like that,” shrugging off her quick remarks as you grab your backpack and shove steve’s into his chest.

the two stand there gawping as steve flushes, stepping into his sneakers and attempts to hurriedly brush his hair into place. he wants to be embarrassed, really, but he’s still riding the high of you even kissing him.

“see anything interesting?” nancy bites, eyebrows raised expectantly.

“nope.”

“mhm i bet,” she smirks, her lips pursed as you shuffle past her, ignoring the smug look on her face as you climb down the ladder.

steve gives them both a little wave, still trying to hide his reddened cheeks as he follows you down from the perch.

you’re waiting for him at the bottom, tugging him away as the pair watch from above. it takes everything in him not to turn around and smile.

“y’wanna shower?” you ask, breaking the silence as you enter the building.

he damn near jumps into the air, clicking his heels together, suppressing his excitement with a simple nod, bounding along behind as you pull him along the corridor.

he’d take any shift if it meant ending up with you.

[stardustvanfleet]

Backstage Baby (Jake Kiszka x Groupie!Reader)

SMUT. 18+ ONLY! MDNI!!!!!

PAIRING: Jake Kiszka x F!Reader

WORDS: 4k

WARNINGS: Dom!Jake. BASICALLY PWP. rough unprotected sex, edging, daddy kink, light choking (blink and you’ll miss it), mix of praise and degradation, nicknames (baby, princess, good girl, slut), my obsession with jake’s silver medallion, ending with flirtatious fluffy aftercare.

A/N: i’ve been writing band rpf for years, but this is my first gvf fic! ever since seeing them in boston on 9/15, i have literally been walking around in a daze, daydreaming about going backstage with jake……. and this is the result lmfao. title inspired by B-Side Baby by Adam Ant. i’m always looking for more gvf friends to discuss ideas with….. and also just cry and lose my mind with LMAO. anyway— i hope you enjoy! XO, li

••••••••••••••••••••

No matter how many times you saw Jake up there, he still made you breathless.

That furrowed concentration on his brow as his expert fingers flew across the strings… his hair falling across his shoulders… the way he would rock and grind against his guitar, glowing under the lights as sweat dripped down his forehead, his chest bare and slick from perspiration…

You didn’t really ever plan on becoming a groupie. The effect that Jake had on you had been intense enough long before you started following Greta Van Fleet around the country, before you’d even once thought you’d ever be in a room with him smaller than a stadium. But you hadn’t expected anything like the way things had actually gone. They had always said real life was stranger than fiction, but you had never thought its twists and turns could be this earth-shattering.

It had started with the eye contact. The first few times it happened, you couldn’t be sure if you were imagining things, your head perhaps fuzzy from the thrill of numerous front-row nights in a row… but when Jake crouched down and leaned towards you mid-solo, his eyes meeting yours with a jolt of electricity, a wicked smirk on his face, you realized with a heart-stopping shudder that no, you hadn’t been imagining his eyes on you.

Those looks would intensify as the tour continued. He’d always somehow find you in the front row, letting his cool and confident gaze rest on you as he played, just long enough to leave you squeezing your thighs together involuntarily. One night, you had been approached by a stagehand, who simply passed you a note with directions to an afterparty, and even though the note had no signature, something deep down told you exactly who it had been from.

That was your first night with Jake, and you had left the next morning with aching legs that felt like jelly. Since then, every night had been fucking cinematic.

Tonight was no exception. It had been damn near impossible to take your eyes off of Jake before you’d even had any opportunity to speak to him, but now, knowing exactly what he was able to do to your body, how fucking incredible he could make you feel… seeing him like that onstage made you positively throb throughout the show, taking all of your energy just to keep your composure.

As the concert winded down, you slipped out of the pit up front, making your way to the backstage entrance. The security guards, who recognized you by now— still an odd feeling — let you in. You headed towards where you now knew the band would be coming down once they left the stage, your heart already pounding with anticipation, heat already beginning to pool between your thighs. You took a deep breath, tugging on the hem of your top, which you had intentionally chosen due to its short length: you loved the way it highlighted the curves of your waist and hips, and hoped Jake would too.

And, as always, once they emerged, it seemed as though everything was happening at once– pulling out earpieces, handing off instruments and passing equipment along – but your eyes were only on Jake, and, you realized with a shudder that wracked your entire body, his were on you.

Once his guitar had been handed off, Jake wasted no time in heading right towards you, grabbing your wrist, and leading you down the hall. He didn’t need to say anything; you knew exactly where he was taking you, and you instantly felt a wave of overwhelming desire wash over your every inch. It was truly absurd how little he had to do to turn you on.

//

He pulled you into his dressing room, and immediately pushed your back up against the closing door. Jake’s large hands pinned your shoulders against it, a soft clicking sound occurring as the door locked automatically. His lips collided sloppily with yours, kissing you with a hunger that sent your head spinning, sparks of heat igniting deep within your core.

When he finally pulled back, grazing your bottom lip with his teeth as he did so, a shiver went down your spine, and it took you far longer than intended to regain composure and open your eyes. When you did, his heavy-lidded dark eyes were on you, pupils blown wide with desire. The dominance behind his expression was enough to cause an involuntary whimper to escape you, the sound of which brought out a smirk that tugged at the corner of his mouth.

“So needy today… What a dirty girl,” he said, his tone dripping with authority, making your knees immediately weaken. His eyes never left yours as he continued teasing, knowing by now what it did to you. He leaned in, making sure you got his next few words right in your ear. “You wanna get fucked tonight? Hm?” His voice was low and seductive, leaving one hand on your shoulder to keep you pinned to the wall, while his other one stroked first down your arm, then back up, your skin lighting up under his touch. As his body pressed up against yours, you could feel him, rock-hard and throbbing against your thigh, the sensation almost overwhelming as you found yourself nodding your head as hard as you could, already difficult to find the words.

That wasn’t enough, though, not for Jake. The hand that had been stroking up and down your bare arms moved abruptly to your jaw, holding it firmly in place so his gaze was locked on yours. “I asked you a question, princess.” Your lower lip trembled desperately as Jake tilted his head ever so slightly, his expression and tone just the right amount of patronizing as his hips began to roll at a slow but steady pace against you, breathing out, “You want this cock?”

“Yes, fuck,” you managed, already feeling lightheaded at just his words and close proximity.

“There you go,” he chuckled condescendingly at the sound of you using your words for the first time. He continued to rock up against your thigh, letting the hand on your jaw slide to your throat, but not lingering there too long, not giving you yet what he knew you wanted— just staying long enough to drag his long fingers down the sensitive skin of your neck, as if examining every inch of you. What a fucking tease.

“Jake, please,” you found yourself begging, taking your free hand and gripping the lapel of his black jacket— all he was wearing over his tanned, sweaty torso, which had been making your head spin all night— “I’m so fucking hot for you. So fucking wet for you. I want you so bad, please…”

The sound of your desperation made a low sound somewhere between a chuckle and a growl rumble in Jake’s throat, and if your panties weren’t soaked through already, that alone would have been enough to get you there.

Your begging had satisfied him, for now. Jake finally released his grip, freeing you from your position pinned up against the door, only to lead you over to the white leather couch in the corner of the room. Before having you sit, however, there were two things that needed to be done. First of all, he shrugged his black jacket off from his shoulders, throwing it to the floor behind him, leaving him standing before you in nothing but those sinfully tight pants and that silver necklace that drove you wild. Through your lightheadedness, you could tell how horny he was, too— his pants left almost nothing to the imagination, and the sight of the achingly large bulge straining against the tight black fabric was making your head swim, to say nothing of the heat between your thighs.

That was when he lowered himself just enough that his lips were in line with the top button of your jeans, and you felt all breath leave your body as he looked wickedly up at you. Going slowly enough to make you squirm, but not so slowly that you’d protest, Jake unzipped your bell bottoms. His gaze never left yours as he pulled them down your legs, revealing inch after inch of your skin to him, his tongue flicking out across his own bottom lip hungrily as he watched himself undress you— this gorgeous present, all his to unwrap.

As you had anticipated, your light pink panties were so soaked they had been rendered essentially useless as a means of covering you up, and the feeling of Jake’s eyes devouring the sight of your pussy through them were only making you wetter.

“Oh, fuck,” he breathed out, his eyes glancing up to meet yours for a moment before looking right back down at the burning heat between your legs. After a second or two of him just looking intently— as if committing the sight to memory— he spoke, saying, “Drives me fucking crazy…” as one of his hands found its way to the inside of your calf, stroking slowly up, further and further, “...how fucking wet you get for me, before I’ve even touched you. Goddamn.”

“Jake, please,” you begged again, your voice cracking a bit as you spread your legs to give him easier access to your inner thigh, his long fingers stroking and massaging you only centimeters from where you needed his touch the most. “I need your fingers… I need them… please.”

Your final “please” had such an undertone of neediness, desperation, it must’ve been exactly what Jake had been looking for-– and immediately, your eyes rolled back into your head as his long middle finger began to stroke deliciously up and down your clothed slit. He started at your entrance to gather your wetness through your panties, then slid upwards and flattened his fingertip out, letting the pad of the digit trace tight circles over your throbbing clit. Immediately upon the contact with your sensitive bundle of nerves, you cried out, clapping a hand over your own mouth as you, in a cloud of arousal, watched Jake play with your pussy from his position between your legs, his eyes never leaving yours as he kept up his steady, rhythmic circular motions.

Time seemed to stop for what could have been seconds or minutes as Jake massaged your clit and teased your entrance through your dripping panties, and it was only when your eyes were watering and whimpers were falling from your lips that he pulled his hand back, the loss of contact making you let out an involuntary whine.

But once his fingers hooked around the waistband of your panties, you realized he wasn’t teasing any longer— he was escalating. The thought made you shudder as he tugged the soaked scrap of fabric down your legs, Jake’s face flushed with heat, that gorgeous hair of his falling across his shoulders and sticking to his forehead.

Once your panties were off, he tossed them to the side, standing up and leaving you trembling on the leather couch as his hands moved down to his own waistband, his eyes meeting yours and his tongue once again swiping across his bottom lip hungrily. You couldn’t take your eyes off of him as he moved to pull his pants down— which, at this point, were pornographically tight— and, Jesus Christ, he looked angelic as they came off. His skin was glowing with sweat, and warm light from the dressing room’s lamps was glinting off the silver medallion around his neck. When he took his cock out, you let out yet another involuntary whimper.

Hard and thick, the tip already glistening with his arousal, just the sight of it made your mouth water. He wrapped his hand around his length, beginning to pump it up and down just slightly as he lowered himself onto the couch next to you, watching with blown-out pupils as you pulled your crop top over your head, revealing to Jake that you hadn’t worn a bra underneath it, your tits bouncing free. The realization made him growl under his breath between strokes of his cock, groaning, “Fuck… you do that for me?” Your nod made him groan all over again, rasping out, “Mmmm… you’re such a dirty girl… C’mere.”

The simple command was all you needed, giving into your desire and practically pushing yourself against his slick, toned body. The feeling of his hot skin against yours alone made you moan out loud as Jake’s hands found your hips, pulling you into his lap. Once you were straddling him, you were so close to his cock that you felt entirely lightheaded, knowing that if you rocked forward, your clit would get the most incredible friction rubbing up against his length…

But you didn’t have to do anything yourself. Before you could organize your thoughts, Jake was kissing you again, messy and filthy, his tongue and teeth everywhere, his mouth moving sloppily from your lips to your neck and back again, and suddenly you hadn’t any thoughts left at all beyond Jake, his hands, his body, and the feeling of his cold silver medallion pressing up against the skin of your breasts— grazing your nipple, making you gasp into his mouth, eliciting a dark chuckle form the man beneath you.

One of his hands took yours and guided it to his cock, and when your fingers wrapped around the velvety skin of his length the both of you shuddered in unison. Jake’s mouth immediately dropped open from the pleasure, murmuring another, “Fuck, princess,” his other hand slipping between your legs to start toying with your clit again. It didn’t take long for your legs to start to tremble. You were aching for him to fill you up.

You both worked each other like this for a minute or two, eyes growing more half-lidded and cheeks flushing ever pinker as you built up to the main event. Finally, after what seemed an achingly long time, Jake finally spoke, words coming in between his heavy panting that was making your whole body tremble.

“You want it, baby? You want this cock right now? You want Daddy to fuck you like the cute little slut you are?”

You moaned so desperately you hardly recognized your own voice. He always knew exactly when to bring things up a notch, and how. You were nodding your head before you could even speak, finally finding the words to beg, “Please, Daddy. I need it, I need your cock,” staring at him with lust-blown doe eyes.

Jake let out a true growl this time, and sat back further, spreading his legs wide, his cock thick and hard and waiting, your wetness all over his thigh from where you had been straddling him. When he spoke again, his voice was low and authoritative. “Then sit on this fucking dick.”

The sound that left your lips in response to his words was something beyond desperation. With trembling thighs, you positioned yourself over Jake as he gave his cock another couple strokes, lining himself up at your entrance, and saying lowly, hotly, “Look at me.”

You obliged without even having to think, and with your eyes on each other, taking in every little change in expression, you started lowering yourself onto him. Slowly but surely, you felt every single inch of his hard cock stretching you out, and as you took all of him as deep as possible, you made sure to keep your eyes right on his as your mouth fell open. He loved to see what he was doing to you.

He only waited a moment, giving you enough time to grab onto his shoulders for leverage, but not enough time to catch your breath, before his hands found your hips. His fingernails dug into your skin, something sexy, dangerous, and dark in his eyes that you instantly recognized. Oh. There would be no working slowly into things tonight. Tonight, Jake was entirely in control.

Roughly, quickly, he lifted you by the hips, before pushing you right back down onto his cock, making you cry out in ecstasy. It was only a moment before he lifted you right back up again, then shoving you back down onto him, giving you no rest from the sudden and overwhelming pleasure. His sense of timing, perfected from years of playing guitar, was more obvious than ever as he started to build up a rhythm that was dizzying in its relentless repetition. The way he was filling you up felt so fucking good, and it only intensified when Jake began to fuck up into you while pressing you down onto him, getting deeper and deeper with every thrust. You couldn’t hold back anymore, starting to moan out his name as he fucked you.

“Fuck, that’s good,” Jake groaned out, beads of sweat dripping down his forehead onto his chest, “Such a good girl… taking my cock so fucking well. Goddamn. So fuckin’ filthy.”

“Fuck, fuck, thank you, Daddy,” you were moaning, broken sounds falling nonstop from your lips as Jake slammed his cock into you, but when your eyes threatened to roll back into your head, he once again took your jaw in his large hand, forcing your gaze to stay on his.

“I told you to keep your fucking eyes on me when I fuck you.”

You whimpered, biting your lip, Jake’s relentless pounding hitting you right where it felt the best, the angle at which he was fucking you giving him perfect access to your sweet spot.

“I’m sorry, Daddy, fuck, fuck, don’t stop!” you begged, the combination of his cock filling you up and that low, sexy voice of his right in your ear completely emptying your mind of any other thoughts besides how fucking good he was making you feel.

Jake was speeding up now, and it was getting harder and harder for you to keep your eyes on him with the pleasure building so intensely within you. You knew you were close, and his labored gasps and breathless growls made it clear that he wasn’t far behind.

“Fuck, baby… that perfect pussy… she’s gripping me so fuckin’ tight,” he was groaning against you, and you were nodding desperately and moaning out obscenities, tears forming in your eyes from the unyielding ecstasy. One of your arms was still around his shoulders, while the other had a white-knuckled grip on his silver necklace as you rolled your hips in time with his thrusts.

He must’ve been able to tell you were close by the way your thighs began to shake, the way your moans turned into desperate, tiny whimpers, because you didn’t even have to say a word before Jake sucked his pointer and middle fingers into his mouth, getting them nice and slick before lowering them to trace tight circles onto your clit.

Fuck. Fuck, fuck, fuck.

It was all so much; so deliciously overstimulating— Jake’s cock deep in your pussy, his fingers working your clit just right, his dark eyes looking at you so intently that even the act of him simply watching you as you fell apart felt so fantastically filthy and sinful.

“Does my little slut wanna cum?” Jake growled through gritted teeth, still thrusting up into you as he managed one of those patronizing smirks that drove you wild, “Not yet. Not until I say so.”

You let out a desperate whine, whimpering weakly, “Jake— fuck, please, Daddy.” Every word took all of your focus and energy to stammer out, with Jake surrounding what felt like every inch of your body, from his cock pumping in and out of you, to his fingers on your clit, and the heat of his skin against yours.

“Be a good girl now,” he continued between grunts, fucking you deep and hard, his lust-blown eyes never once leaving yours, “I’m gonna count down. Then… and only then… you cum on my fucking cock.”

You managed to make the only sound you could— a whimper that sounded so pathetic and slutty you hardly recognized your own voice. Trying to find words now would be hopeless. It was all so much. It felt so fucking good. Tears began to spill from your eyes as Jake’s thick cock slammed against your g-spot over and over again, in perfect time with his calloused fingers relentlessly circling your clit.

He chuckled condescendingly. You could tell— he knew you were too fucked out to answer him.

“Here we go, princess… five…”

You were trembling, moments away from the edge, utilizing every bit of energy you had left to hold off the orgasm that threatened to overtake you any second.

“Four… three…”

You could barely breathe. Every sensation, every feeling, was layered on top of one other. The pressure on your clit. Jake’s eyes, watching you unravel. The feeling of his cock swelling inside of you as he pounded into your cunt. His other hand still gripping your hip for leverage, surely leaving bruises in the shape of his fingerprints.

“Two…”

He leaned right in, giving you a look so fucking intense and hungry that you felt yourself go lightheaded, that heat building, building… so close, so fucking close… he just had to say…

“One. Cum for me. Fucking cum.”

The moment the command left his lips, it was all over. The white-hot coil within you snapped, and your body was overtaken with bliss, shaking uncontrollably as you clenched down onto him, the feeling of your release all around him making Jake groan out a pornographic, “Oh, fuck.”

He kept up his pace as he fucked you and worked your clit through your orgasm, repeatedly biting his lower lip in concentration as he groaned out, “That’s it, baby, give it to me, soak my fucking cock.” The pleasure was dizzying, damn near overwhelming, and through your haze it was impossible to tell for just how long he helped prolong your climax while chasing his own.

With a delicious moan and a string of obscenities, Jake pulled out of your cunt just in time, thrusting into his hand and covering your stomach in his cum. Even through your post-orgasmic haze, the sight of him cumming all over you was so incredibly filthy you found yourself whimpering all over again, watching him through glazed-over eyes as he rode out his high.

When you both finally collapsed onto each other, panting, covered in sweat and cum, Jake groaned out a breathless, “Holy fuck,” before taking his hand and running it through your hair. There was a tenderness in his gaze and a softness in his tone as he asked, “Are you okay, baby?”

You nodded, slowly but surely coming back down to Earth. When you managed a dazed grin, he chuckled a little, smirking affectionately. He leaned in to press a kiss to your lips— this one far more gentle, but no less passionate. When Jake pulled back, he breathed out, “That was so fucking hot, baby… goddamn. You’re something else.”

You felt a blush creep up in your cheeks as he stroked your hair, then your back, his tender touches grounding you as you caught your breath against his chest. It was only after a good long while, once the stickiness on your stomachs became too much to bear, that he helped you to your feet, your thighs already feeling a familiar ache, knees still wobbling a bit. By now, you had found your words, and you thanked him, giggling shyly despite yourself.

He wrapped a plush towel around you, cleaning you up as best as he could, grabbing another towel for himself. It was after this, though, that he spoke.

“Come back to the hotel with me tonight.”

His words took you by surprise. Yes, you’d been to his hotel rooms before— but generally, you’d head there in order to fuck, not after it already had taken place. He must’ve been able to read your expression, because he continued, “I wanna take care of you, baby. It’s the least I can do… there’s a jacuzzi, we can get a nice bath going for you… and there’s a king-sized bed…”

And… you were blushing again. Of course.

You chewed on your bottom lip with nervous excitement, your heart already starting to beat faster. “Jake… that sounds perfect.” He smiled at you, looking utterly radiant, and you felt butterflies in your stomach all over again as he put his arm around you. “C’mon, gorgeous… let’s get you some of my clothes to put on. I’ve got a sweatshirt in here somewhere…”

As you melted into his touch, you couldn’t help but smile to yourself. The night was only just beginning.

••••••••••••••••••••

A/N: thank you so so much for reading!! i would absolutely love to hear your thoughts either in the notes or through tumblr DMs. my ask box is always open for filthy thoughts, and i’m always looking for more gvf friends to discuss with 🥰 i’m also starting a taglist for any new fics i post, so be sure to let me know if you want to be added! XO, li

[alastorslittledoe]

Stay With Me

|| Vox smut ||

You have returned after a few days at the Hazbin Hotel, gathering information for the Vee’s. Vox is incredibly pent up from the wait.

|| This is an exert from my Alastor x Reader (contrary to the smut w/ Vox lmfao) fic on wattpad! ||

|| Link if you wanna read: https://www.wattpad.com/story/364068325?utm_source=ios&utm_medium=link&utm_content=story_info&wp_page=story_details&wp_uname=pastelkitty69 ||

Tags: daddy kink, Vox being rough, blowjob, dom Vox, fem reader

***

"So, dollface, tell me" Vox taps his claws against his desk, leaning back to look at you "what have you learned from that shithole?"

"Vox" you roll your eyes "I haven't even been there two days, and I spent last night drunk off my ass" you decided to leave out the parts that involved the Radio Demon.

"Well that's not really a fucking help, is it?" He snaps "God, I sent you there to be fucking useful, Y/N, not get all pally with the shitheads"

You smirk "I wouldn't let Val hear you say that, it was with Angel"

"I don't give a SHIT who you were with" he takes a long stride to you, grabbing your jaw harshly and tilting your face up to him "I need information"

"Okay! Okay" You attempt to swat his hand away. It doesn't work.

"Fine" You breathe heavily "I'm roomed next to Alastor. If he does anything, I'll be the first to know, V"

He stares at you for a long moment before releasing you, your head twists to the side from the force. You rub your jaw, eyeing him.

"That's...good...we can work with that" He nods thoughtfully, a small loading circle in the corner of his screen "yeah, that's really fuckin good"

You smile. You hated that his praise meant so much to you.

"Yeah, Voxy, I got you" You wink "Don't be so stressy" you saunter over to him and gently place your hands on his shoulders, starting to massage them cautiously.

He lets out a quiet sigh and leans back into your touch.

Gotcha.

You slowly lean forward, leaving a pepper trail of kisses down his neck, mumbling between kisses "Were you worried I was leaving you for them?"

He stiffens slightly. Maybe you'd pushed it too far. But then he says, quietly "Perhaps"

That you didn't expect. Vox never showed any appreciation for you, except for in bed.

"Well" you swallow, about to tell the biggest lie you'd told during your stay in hell thus far "I'd never leave you, I promise"

A carnal growl escapes him and he whips around to face you, quickly capturing your lips on his. You always think it best...not to think about the technicalities of kissing Vox. There was no possible way to explain how his lips felt so real behind that screen. And he was incredible at it.

He leads you backward between kisses until you reach his bed.

"You're mine" he growls, shoving you down.

You bounce as you hit the soft surface, smirking up at him "Prove it"

He crawls onto the bed and pushes your legs apart, slotting himself between and staring down at you with those glowing red eyes.

He grabs the neckline of your top with both hands and rips it in half, chucking the stray fabric aside.

"Did I ever tell you...your tits are so fucking gorgeous, dollface" He murmurs, leaning down and nipping harshly at one of your buds. You gasp, back arching into him. You could already feel his pants straining against you.

"Fuck...Vox" You mumble needily

He smirks against your breast. He loved when you said his name. It was akin to a drug for him. Which is exactly why he couldn't have you moaning it too often. Vox had no idea why he liked you, and he tried his best to not like you, actually. Considering you technically belonged to Val. But by god, did he enjoy the moments where you were sprawled out bare for him.

He pulls back and stares down at you, your perked nipples and flushed face. Fuck it. He didn't need to be inside you yet. But he did need his cock inside that pretty mouth of yours.

Vox grabs your hips and yanks you backward as he zips into a nearby camera, you fall onto the floor clumsily, gasping and looking around nervously. Vox appears a moment later across the room, shirtless, strolling over and slowly unbuckling his belt, chuckling

"My apologies, doll, did that hurt?"

"No, sir" your bright eyes blink up at him, mouth almost drooling as slowly unzips his pants. He meets you, standing over you with a smirk. You knew calling him that drove him insane.

"Well?" he drawls "Get my cock out. And suck"

You feel the slick between your thighs and close them tightly as you move to your haunches, fiddling somewhat clumsily with his zipper. He would never admit it to anyone, but he found it oddly alluring that he knew you were extremely skilled in the bedroom and yet, when it came to the real thing, it was almost innocent.

You finally lowered his pants enough for his cock to spring out. You weren't ashamed to admit you had been pleasantly surprised the first time. You had expected, well...average. Surely a man with such a large ego didn't deserve a massive dick too, right? Wrong. You were so. Fucking. Wrong.

You took his cock in your hand and gave it a few cautious pumps, watching the pre-cum leak from the tip, you giggle playfully, batting your eyes at him and giving it a small kiss.

He groans "Doll..."

A warning.

He grabs your jaw and traces your bottom lip with a blue claw, then slowly, gently, presses it into your mouth. You suck it eagerly. When you open your mouth as he drags it back out, he takes the opportunity and rams his cock deep into your throat. You gag immediately, tears springing into your eyes.

"Good girl" he smirks, cooing "that's it, take daddy's cock"

Now that was new.

You adjust and begin to bob your head, going at a steady pace. Vox groans, you never go quite deep enough to satiate him. He grabs a fistful of your hair, a makeshift ponytail in his hand

"Enough of that, doll" He shoves you down onto his cock once more, ready to cum at the moan that erupts from you around his dick.  He lets himself engulf in the pleasure of your throat, wet, and all his. He waits until you grab at his thigh, clawing for air, before releasing you.

You gasp for air and fall back as he lets you go, a few stray tears slipping down your face. Oh fuck, was he turned on by that sight.

He grabs you and easily throws you back onto the bed, quickly ridding himself of his pants completely and making quick work of tearing your skirt to shreds.

You gulp as he positions himself between your thighs once more "You owe me a new outfit, Vox" you joke breathlessly.

He pauses "What" his screen glitches, eyes turning hypnotic "did you call me, doll?"

You bite your lip "Sorry, daddy"

He nods, pleased, then grabs your hips, yanking you towards him, roughly slamming his cock into you, not even giving you a moments notice. You gasp, a strangled moan escaping as you throw your head back into the sheets.

"Jesus...fuck"

After his initial entrance he continues at an agonisingly slow pace.

"Mmf" You grit your teeth, attempting to move onto your elbows "Vo-" he cuts you off with another sharp thrust. Now you were getting antsy, gritting your teeth "faster"

He raises an eyebrow, chuckling "sorry, doll, who told you YOU were in charge here? If you want me to go faster" He pauses, a painfully slow thrust "beg.”

You clamp your mouth shut.

He takes this as a challenge and presses a claw gently onto your clit, moving in slow circles. Your position on your elbows doesn't last long and you collapse once more, panting in need.

"For fucks sake" you breathe "fucking please, PLEASE, fuck me, I'm begging" 

"That's a good little slut" He grins, showing a row of sharp teeth on his screen and grabs an ankle and places it onto his shoulder. He gives you a last, devastating look before speeding up his pace.

"Oh- f...nugh...too much-" You choke out

"You" he grunts "chose this."

He was right, of course.

Your mouth falls open in a silent moan as he resumes the assault on your clit with his claws. The coil in your stomach builds until Vox can feel you, so tightly pressed against his dick he can barely slide in and out of you.

"That's it, dollface" he growls "cum for me"

You cry out as a wave of pleasure rakes through you, your vision temporarily going black as your body convulses against him. Vox groans, an animalistic sound ripping through him as his own orgasm barrels through him, screen glitching in his euphoria. His hips stutter against you as he fills you.

Your leg falls from his shoulder and he collapses onto you, panting hotly.

"Good job, doll" he murmurs against your skin, planting a kiss on one of your breasts before slowly regaining his composure and rising from the bed. You attempt to catch your breath, slowly sitting up.

This was the part you hated, the insecurity that washed over you in sickening waves after being with Vox. Most of the time, he rejected your advances, but then there were times like this that you could count on one hand. The times where he accepted and ruined you so fucking well.

He clears his throat, grabbing his pants from the floor and quickly slipping them on "I'll let Val know you won't be shooting today"

The one blessing whenever Vox took you, he at least had the decency to delay your next set.

You nod, attempting to smile prettily with your fucked out eyes "Thanks, Voxy"

He nods "Oh, doll?"

"Hm?"

"Don't take too long in that shitty hotel. When you're back I want you here"

You tilt your head "I'm always here?"

He glances back at you before he reaches his door "I want you here. In this room. With me"

And with that he left you alone. Uncomfortable and feeling used, as per usual. But staying here, with him? That was new. You had no doubt there was an ulterior motive.

Two days ago that would've set your heart so painfully aflutter it would be physically unbearable. And yet, you couldn't help your mind drifting to the demon you decidedly hated. The one that made your skin crawl and bones ache with your few encounters.

You shake your head.

Well, at least Vox had fucked the hangover away.