consumed [san x reader]
pairing: vampire ! San x f reader
rating: 18+
genre: smut, angst, vampire au, darkfic
summary: After getting a taste of your blood, San dedicates himself entirely to you — whether you want him to or not.
wc: 5.6k
general warnings: non-con elements, pheromone-induced ‘consent’ but reader resists at first, blood drinking, reader’s blood literally drives San crazy, he is delusional and obsessed and thinks it’s love, abduction, mention of San killing a nameless stranger to feed on
smut warnings: somnophilia, praise kink, body worship, vaginal fingering / sex, creampie, spanking, cum feeding, multiple orgasms, overstimulation, biting, scratching, petnames for reader (darling, sweet girl, angel, love)
a/n: DEAD DOVE DO NOT EAT!!! reader is afab & she/her pronouns are used
“You’re not supposed to keep them around this long, San.”
Yunho does not speak the words unkindly, though his disapproval is plain to hear.
“She’s different,” San says quietly, shaking his head. He doesn’t understand why Yunho can’t see that.
They’re standing in the wide, spacious living room of San’s penthouse; decorated in an elegant, bare minimalism that leaves no doubt over the many digits in his bank account’s credit balance. Yunho hangs back by the exit to the foyer, like he already knows he’ll outstay his welcome with this topic of conversation.
San is not looking at him, staring out the floor-length window with his forearm leaned against the glass, tinted with a special filter for his safety during daylight. But the sun has not risen yet, though the city is already bustling with activity in the early morning. From this height, San can barely make out the specks of people on the sidewalks and in their cars; their minute size reflecting their significance.
No one else in this city matters. Only you.
“She’s already growing immune, isn’t she?” Yunho remarks, annoyingly astute.
The corner of San’s lips twitches.
Yunho’s objections are irrelevant, he tells himself, deafening his ears to the truth in that question. He has to, if the alternative is to give you up. He can’t.
Ever since San found you, a chance meeting at a hotel bar, he has been enamoured by you. Your tinkling laugh, the sway of your hips, that wicked glint in your eyes when you realised his interest. You made him work for it, to persuade you up to his room, but not too hard. Just a little game, both of you pretending that you hadn’t decided to fuck yourself senseless on his cock from the moment you laid eyes on him.
Yes, he’d been taken with you from the start — but it wasn’t until the elevator ride up to his hotel room that San realised you were more than just a simple, if particularly delectable, meal.
There San had gotten a proper whiff of you, undiluted by the smells of food and drinks and other patrons.
You’d moaned when he pressed his nose into the crook of your neck, nerves creeping into the edge of your voice. You had also finally realised that San was more than just a simple, if particularly delectable, one-night stand; some primal part of your brain warned you of danger.
It hadn’t mattered at that point. You mumbled something about having left your phone down at the bar, trying to untangle yourself from San’s grip — but all he had to do was grab your waist tighter, yanking you back against his body as he testingly lapped at your jugular. San’s hunger was growing, and you had been powerless against the push of his pheromones dousing your susceptible human brain. From then on, you were a willing banquet for him to feast on.
(Still, San was generous. He still let you fuck yourself senseless on his cock.)
The longer he’d fed on you, the more he was dizzied by your scent; like he was breathing in oxygen for the first time in over six-hundred years. Your voice, sweet in your cries, pleading for him like he was the only lifeline still binding you to this mortal coil. Your taste… San never tasted anyone like you before.
Like you are his lifeline, your blood hot in his gut, saturating his veins with essential nutrition. Liquid sunlight, warming him from the inside. No one else tastes like this. No one else feels like this.
All of his plans were thrown out the window; to wipe the questionable details from your mind and abandon you before morning light. Instead he had taken you with him, given you a home, devoted himself to you with every fibre of his being.
His dedication never wavered, even when you began to resist the haze of his subjugation; when you no longer understood that everything San does, he does out of love for you.
But it’s not your fault — and San is not so fickle as to abandon you now. His loyalty is stronger than your blindness to it.
So how dare Yunho tell him it’s time to let you go?
“For fuck’s sake, at least turn her if you’re so attached to your little toy,” Yunho continues, and San’s face twitches at the blatant disrespect of you. A toy? “It’d be a kindness, and not only to her. Sannie, I’m worried about you.”
“It’s time for you to go home, Yunho. The sun is about to rise,” San says coolly, not even taking his eyes off the city skyline to see his oldest friend off.
Yunho lets out a frustrated sigh, but concedes to San’s stubbornness — for now. “This isn’t the last we’ve spoken of this,” he warns, and with that, Yunho turns away and leaves. He does not take San’s bad mood with him though; he leaves that behind to fester in San’s cold, deficient blood like a rot.
San stands alone in his luxurious penthouse, resisting a sharp urge to put his fist through the filtered glass of his window. He settles for digging his nails into his palms, a low growl escaping past his gritted teeth.
He needs you. Now more than ever.
The thought is all-consuming, hunger blazing through him. But right now, his devotion is tainted by rage, and he cannot risk to have you touched by it. San did that once, mercilessly rough as he took you; not even to feed, just to know you are his. He still has not forgiven himself for it. He never will.
But Yunho’s incessant meddling is not the only thing that has soured San’s mood — and it only makes his need worse.
San knows he has to be mindful of your health, allowing you time to recover between feedings. And so he hunted fresh prey, just a few days ago. It had been a brutish affair, sloppy and violent. San had almost gagged on the young man’s blood, a vile and repugnant liquor compared to yours, and left a scene of savage destruction behind.
(Hongjoong had arranged a clean-up afterwards, for which he’d heatedly told San off. Come to think of it, Hongjoong probably sent Yunho today too. He needs to stop fucking coddling San just because he is a few centuries younger. San could’ve handled it himself.)
Days later, the taste of inferior blood still lingers on San’s tongue, streams through his veins, and his craving for you becomes too powerful to withstand. He yearns for a sustenance and a comfort only you can provide.
No, San cannot go back to an existence without you.
Restlessly he paces across his home, through the spacious living room past the gallery and the master bedroom, all the way to a wide terrace that looks over the bay. Sometimes he takes you there, at night when the stars are bright, but the sun is already out. San ignores the terrace, heading to a relatively modest bedroom tucked into the corner of the penthouse.
A small, delicate silver key hangs on an equally delicate silver chain around his neck, resting on his chest. He takes off the necklace and uses the key to unlock the door to your room.
With his hand resting on the doorknob, San takes a deep, grounding breath. Already he can smell you through the white-painted wood, and just a faint whiff is enough to blunt the edges of his frustrations, while sharpening his hunger.
He opens the door.
Inside, he finds you laying motionless on a large mahogany bed underneath a wide, open skylight. Your nude body is sprawled over the velvet sheets, bathed in the warmth of the morning sun. At peace in your sleep. There is a golden cuff fastened around your ankle, with a long narrow chain to the wall; sometimes your confused mind beckons you to flee, to make some misguided escape attempt, but the chain protects you from making such mistakes.
San closes the door behind him as quietly as he can, careful not to wake you. Reverently, he watches your sleeping form, drinking in the sight of your steady breathing, how your skin glows in the unfiltered sunlight. Light that is deadly to him, but nurturing to you.
His eyes find the three scabbed-over bite marks on your naked body; on your neck, your inner thigh, and your wrist. San is partial to your thigh, mingling the sweet flavours of arousal and blood as he feeds, but every single one of them sings to him right now — angelic temptation.
Still, he resists a moment longer. He likes watching you sleep; the slow rhythm of your chest as you draw breath, your steady heartbeat thumping through peaceful dreams. He hates watching you sleep; to see you in a state of blissful serenity that only the oblivion of unconsciousness brings. He tries to give you that same peace in the waking world, tries so hard, but you struggle against it more and more.
He yearns to touch you, to remind you of true bliss, but even a mere step forward would make him burn in the sun’s light.
Some days he wants to. Wants to burn for you. Perhaps if you saw the true depths of his devotion, you would finally stop forgetting.
“She’s already growing immune, isn’t she?”
Yunho’s words echo through him, mockingly. Now that Yunho is gone, San can begrudgingly admit their truth. Your body is instinctively building a harmful resistance to his pheromones, like a dangerous bacterial strain resisting antibiotics. All San wants to do is cure your hurts, but your own physiology is cruelly sabotaging your happiness.
San’s fingers itch as he gets antsy. He’ll fix it. He’ll fix you. He will find a way.
He flicks a switch on the wall and the solar blinds go down. You stir at the faint whirring noise, whimper instinctively when shade encroaches on your naked body. You do not wake. Not yet.
Soon the room is engulfed in darkness, but San sees you clearly. Still, for your sake he lights a few candles, bathing the room in a different warm glow. Then he slowly shucks his clothes, dark eyes pinned on your slumbering figure.
The mattress dips as San joins you, the sheets still warmed by the sun. It makes San’s skin itch, but all discomfort fades when he turns you onto your side and curls up behind you, finding refuge in your body heat. San groans as you envelop his senses, and he noses at the bite mark on your neck.
You belong to him. It’s time to remind you of that.
Peaceful dreams still have you in their clutches, so you do nothing except sigh softly when San runs his palm over your plush thigh, then hooks your leg over his to open you up for him. A sigh becomes a moan when his fingers part your lower lips; sleep renders you almost as pliant as San’s subjugation does — even if it does not taste as sweet.
By now, San has mapped out your body’s every pleasure-point through his thorough explorations. Knows exactly how to press down against your clit to have your muscles twitching under his insistent touch. He hums in satisfaction at how easily his devoted fingers coax forth the slick between your thighs. It gives him hope.
San’s breath picks up at your heightened arousal, his otherwise useless blood rushing down to his cock. How wonderful would it be, if you are already brought under his spell once you awaken? He groans at the thought, muffling his sounds with an open-mouthed kiss against your neck. You squirm against him; your body is starting to wake, even if your mind is not quite there yet.
He suckles at the precious scab on your neck, canines elongating as he grinds against your backside. His razor-sharp teeth scrape against the scar that he has reopened over and over again — but San hisses, somehow finding the strength to pull back.
He mustn’t feed on you, not yet. Only when you want him to.
Two of his thick fingers have moved down, now buried knuckle-deep into your sopping heat. The faint squelch of it threatens to drive San mad just as much as your scent does, his every sense overwhelmed by the existence of you. He whines, barely able to keep himself from rutting into you when your hips jerk involuntarily against his fingers.
San knows immediately when you wake.
He senses the jolt in your heartbeat, hears the sharp catch of breath, feels how you stiffen in his arms. A muted shock rushes through your body as your mind tries to process what is happening to it.
“Shhh, it’s okay,” San shushes immediately, pressing a soft kiss against your temple. “It’s just me. You’re safe with me.”
But San’s dreams that you would awaken safely under his influence are shattered when you let out a pained whimper. You weakly shake your head, trembling as awareness of your current situation swiftly dawns on you. Feeble hands push at his arms.
“No,” you croak out, voice hoarse from sleep. “Hm, n-no— hmm, hmgh—“
You gasp as San’s fingers return to your clit, rubbing slow circles intended to soothe. “Yes,” he purrs. “Just let it happen, my love.”
He grunts as your nails claw at his wrist, some strength flowing back into your body as your consciousness comes back to you. Your other hand reaches to push at his face — but San’s sharp teeth nip at your fingers in warning when you almost scratch at his eyes, and you flinch away to yank at his hair instead.
Irritation and heartache pang through San’s chest at your incomprehension, and he helplessly listens to your babbled, futile protests. Soon. It will all be better soon.
“Please, stop—”
You break on the word with a wretched sob, a tear escaping your lashes. San’s heart wrenches at the sight. He does not like to see you cry, not when it’s like this. “No no no, darling,” he murmurs gently, the glide of his fingers easy through your sodden folds. “It’s okay, it will be okay… Don’t cry, you feel good — aren’t I making you feel good?”
You merely sob again, twisting against his hold, but San has you pulled too tightly against his chest. He feels your body tense, smells the unwanted pleasure buzzing through your veins. You gnaw at your bottom lip to bite down the moans rising from your lungs, but San will not allow you to fight it. He leans over your shoulder, licking into your mouth until your jaw slackens and your moans spill free. (You dare not bite his tongue. That’s a lesson you did not forget.)
“That’s it, that’s my sweet girl,” San praises. “Let me hear you.”
Your protests have died down to nothing but hitched breaths and hiccups, unable to back away from the inevitable precipice that San pushes you towards. All your instincts contradict one another, wanting to escape, wanting to chase this bright, fiery thread of pleasure until you are unravelled into nothing but pure rapture.
You choke back a throttled cry, grinding back against San’s cock. He whines at the friction, but stays focused on you; you come first. You always do. It won’t be much longer now.
He can tell by the way your thighs tremble, how your legs try to lock around his fingers. Your scent is overwhelming now; dizzying San’s mind with no thoughts of anything but to shatter your existence into bite-sized pieces. Still you try to resist, but San overwhelms you in turn, mouthing at your neck and working your puffy clit. The pitch of your moans rise, chest heaving with shuddering gasps, until you seize up with a strangled sob. Fresh slick gushes onto his fingers and San does not stop, thrusting three glistening fingers inside you to fuck you through your unwilling release.
“Please, please stop,” you sob, mewling with every aftershock that jolts through you. You beg him endlessly, convulsing in his arms — but then your scent changes, and the nature of your pleas shifts into something else entirely. “S-Sannie… please…”
The fear and nausea in your scent make way for your natural sweetness, embracing San in warm welcome as you finally call his name. He whimpers in relief.
You’re here. You’ve come back to him.
“What is it, darling?” he hums, nosing at your cheek. “Tell me, what do you need?”
“San, please, n-need…” You grasp at his wrist again, keeping him firmly in place as you falter for words. Your brain is in a haze. What do you need? Why can’t you think? One moment, everything was all wrong, panic searing through your aching nerves, and now… now…
San.
You need San.
You turn your head to look at him with tearful eyes, and smile dazedly at the fondness in his gaze, filled with heated affection. The flickering candles cast a halo of light around his face, shadows dancing over his high cheekbones and chiselled jaw.
“You… Need you closer,” you whine, aching as he smiles at you with crinkled eyes and a faint dimple. “Inside, p-please, want you inside me, San…”
The desperate yet demure request pleases him, a low noise of approval rumbling in his chest. He presses a tender kiss on your cheek, then takes out his fingers and pulls away from you.
You let out a pained moan at San’s sudden absence; to be without him hurts, the mere thought bringing about an excruciating burn inside your head. There is a strange pressure inside your skull, like a deeply buried thought tries to claw to the surface. But the pain is replaced by equal heights of bliss when San gathers you into his arms again, wrapping around you like a protective blanket.
He only moved to sit up against the headboard, now guiding you into his lap. You come willingly, eagerly, sighing in relief as his hands run over your feverish skin.
“There you go, my angel,” San rasps, restlessly grabbing at your waist to rock you into his hard cock. “So sweet, so good to me. Come, take what you want. I’m all yours, love.”
You whine at his offer and San’s lips spread into a slow, satisfied smile at your neediness. This is how it is supposed to be.
His eyes are drawn downward to your hands, and he grunts as you stroke him slowly, as though testing the warmth and thickness of him in your palm. Already he is leaking from the tip, a primal frenzy nudging at the back of his skull. Hunger.
Thankfully, you don’t make him wait long before you lift your hips and finally sink down on him. San throws back his head with a low growl, the pulsing wet heat of your cunt threatening to tear his self-control to shreds. His fangs have protracted fully, itching to seek out your veins.
Not yet, he reminds himself again, straining against his own impatience. First he needs to watch as you ride him; to see you use him for your own pleasure. To know his all-encompassing desire for you is returned in kind.
You provide him exactly what he craves.
Within mere moments, the candle-lit room is filled with your unabashed whines and the lewd slap of skin-on-skin as you bury San’s thick cock in your tight heat over and over again. Your pace is frantic, shameless in your desperation as you cling onto San’s wide shoulders, your nails close to drawing blood. The irony of that is not lost on him.
San’s head has fallen back, his jaw slack as he draws heavy breaths, utterly entranced by your depravity.
He lovingly admires the glow of sweat on your skin, beads trickling down the valley of your breasts that bounce with every snap of your hips. San is of half a mind to add a fourth bite to his collection on your body, draining you right over your heart. He licks his lips, groaning tightly when you grab his hand and move it from your hip to your backside.
San gives it an appreciative squeeze, but you shake your head and whine loudly.
Ah… message received.
You don’t flinch when San’s lips spread into a wide grin, his fangs on full display. He loves you for that.
He also loves the way your entire body jolts when his palm sharply lands on your ass. Your rhythm falters when he strikes again, your arms trembling as you struggle to remain upright.
“Want more, my love?” San croons, and draws his tongue across his deadly canines. A hot wire thrums through him when you mewl in confirmation, though he can tell you are getting tired. Stamina is not your greatest strength, not with your necessary confinement — but you always give him everything, wearing yourself out on his thick cock until your muscles give in.
Every smack of San’s hand against your rear is received with your loud keening, eyes squeezing shut. Tears streak down your cheeks, and San’s cock twitches inside your throbbing cunt. The shimmering wetness on your skin is a thing of beauty to him now; so overwhelmed by pleasure that your body seeks release anywhere, even in your tears.
San bucks up at the same time that his hand connects with your ass again, and you wail at the impact, crumpling against his chest. Weakly you cling onto his shoulders, moaning pitifully when San continues to roll his hips.
“Good, feels so good… Sannie…” you babble against his collarbone, the words tripping over your clumsy tongue. “Want… want…”
Your tongue darts out against his neck and without further warning, your teeth sink into his skin.
San grunts in surprise at the sudden sting, but then he chuckles breathlessly at your precious attempt to bite him. Your canines are uselessly blunt compared to his, only capable of breaking skin with the greatest effort — and you are already far too fucked out for that.
“Oh darling,” he coos, tipping up your chin. “Is that what you want? Then show me, my love.”
You snivel adorably, tilting your head to offer up the mark on your neck to San’s hungry mouth. Your quiet submission sears through his body, down to his crotch and his stomach, and San presses his nose against the old bite, breathing in deeply.
You whimper as he drags the flat of his tongue over the half-healed scab. Just a faint scrape of his teeth first, not enough to break skin, only to revel in the anticipation. Your heartbeat quickens, blood pulsing under his lips. San can wait no longer.
His eyes roll back with an animalistic snarl as he descends, fangs piercing through flesh with ease. He growls at the first pull of blood, metallic sweetness coating his lips and tongue as your essence floods his senses.
“Yes, yes— Ah, ah, ahhh…” You arch your back into him, slowly rolling your hips in time with San’s noisy, messy slurps. Your fingers tangle into his hair, holding him in place as he drinks deep.
Euphoria.
Pure euphoria.
Drowning in you, in the sublime intoxication. San can barely feel his body anymore, only distantly aware of you rutting tiredly into him, of how he humps upward with increasing force as he loses himself in your taste.
He does hear your cries of delirious ecstasy, right by his ear when his hand slides between your bodies to find your clit on pure instinct. With his cock and fangs buried inside you, you reach your zenith with violent force, convulsing underneath his blood-stained mouth.
San grabs tighter onto you as you writhe, forcing you to stay in place as he drinks unrelentingly. He groans at how you clench around his cock, hips stuttering when he finds release — but even that is drowned out by the frenzy of his feed, mindlessly fucking his seed deeper into your cunt while he sucks at your wound, trying not to spill any of your precious liquor.
Slowly your whines die down and you start to go limp in San’s arms, just as he grows lethargic in the aftermath of his indulgence, his hunger finally sated.
You let out a weak moan when his fangs retract with a wet sound, and for a moment San thinks you passed out; but your eyes flutter open when he pulls out and manoeuvres you onto your back. A weak rivulet of blood drips down your shoulder, but you smile up at him with glassy eyes. He must look monstrous, redness smeared across his lips and chin, but there is nothing but want in your gaze, and San thinks that perhaps his hunger is not completely sated after all.
“Did so well, my love,” he murmurs, running his fingers up your inner thigh to catch the trickle of cum leaking out. “Always taking such good care of me.”
He offers up his glistening fingers to you, and you accept with no hesitation. Tiredly, your tongue swirls around the sticky digits, taking all that San feeds you. It only seems fair to him; exchanging one bodily essence for another. He cannot give you his blood, cannot risk accidentally turning you, but at least he can give you this.
Soon his fingers are sucked clean, but you whine as San pulls his hand back, your mouth chasing after him. “N-no, San…” Your eyes glitter with unspoken pleas, and a fond pride swells inside him at your insatiable urges.
“My sweet girl needs more, does she?” San asks, bearing down on you with a pleased smile. He drapes himself over you, humming in approval when your legs reflexively part to make room for him.
You giggle when his nose brushes against yours, his sweaty hair tickling at your face. “San, you’re a mess,” you tease, running your thumb across his lips. It comes back red.
San just moans in contentment, pressing a bloodied kiss against your cheek as he slowly grinds against your cunt. Your giggles quickly turn to gasps, wiggling underneath his persistent hips. His cock is so sensitive the friction almost hurts, but it’s all worth it when you grab onto his shoulders to pull him into a kiss, heedless of his tainted lips.
Your tongue slides against his, and San laughs into your mouth when your nose scrunches up in discontent at the strong taste of blood. As insatiable as you may be, only one of you is a true vampire. Instead San kisses a trail across your jaw, down your neck. He laps at the dried blood, the wound already closed, then suckles at the surrounding skin once you are clean. His hands wander over your body, relishing your heightened responses to his touch as he slowly works you up again.
You sigh at the soft squeeze of your breasts, back arching when his thumbs play across your nipples. San luxuriates in the curves of your body, sliding down to envelop a hardened nipple in the wet heat of his mouth. He takes his time, clever but unhurried fingers teasing deftly between your thighs.
Breathy moans echo through the quiet bedroom, languid pleasure gradually shifting to something more urgent. You start grasping at his shoulders, tell him to fill you up already, and San has never been one to deny you.
He hisses as he gives his cock a few more strokes, but ignores all sensitivity to please you, to plunge his thick length back inside your sopping cunt, drenched with seed and arousal. San bottoms out in one smooth thrust, knocking the air out of your lungs. You gasp for breath as he starts a steady rhythm, careful to find the exact angle he knows will have you seeing stars behind your eyelids.
The lethargy of his feed forces San to take it slow, settling for deep, intense thrusts to have your toes curl into the sheets. He cages you between his elbows, pressing shallow kisses on your lips; and the taste of blood has faded enough that you can happily accept his mouth, tongues gliding against each other in a sloppy tangle.
You moan as San’s pace picks up, wrapping your legs around his waist. The cuff on your ankle presses against his lower back, and a tinge of bittersweetness invades San’s palate at the reminder that it’s is not always like this. But he shakes it off, choosing to stay submerged in pure sweetness for now. Enjoy the moment. Enjoy you.
The slow roll of his hips turns to powerful thrusts as his sluggishness fades, his strength now boosted by the fresh, invigorating effect of your blood. Soon the bed is rattling at the onslaught of his force — he is fucking bruises into your hips, he is sure of it, but still you beg for more, for him. He gives it all.
“So good, fucking me so well,” you keen, and San glows at your praise, spurring him on harder.
He does not slow down when you seize up around him; fucking you through your orgasm, through your body’s attempts to clamp down on him. He hisses at the tightness of your cunt but does not stop, does not relent until you’re sobbing underneath him, your hands clutching at his sweat-slicked back. His muscles ripple with every merciless thrust, low grunts escaping him as his own release draws near, but San pushes through with gritted teeth, fixated on the unrestrained pleasure that contorts your face.
Sweat drips from his hair onto your cheeks, your body jostled helplessly by the rough snap of his hips. Your voice fails you, moans catching soundlessly in your throat as you tense around his cock again. San reaches down a hand to find your swollen clit, groans when it barely takes a touch for you to release a choked up cry — and this time San can’t fight the way you clench around him. He buries his face in your shoulder as he whines, filling you up just as you’d begged him to. He grabs onto your hips to hold your squirming body still as he bucks into you a few more times, his cum leaking past his cock and mingling with your juices, smeared across your thighs and his pelvis.
With a final whine, San pulls out and collapses by your side, his legs tangled with yours.
He recovers slowly, gasping for breath, and his heart clenches when you curl up into him, wiggling yourself between his arms for his embrace.
San is not sure how long you lay there like that, with him gently patting your hair, your quiet breaths falling on his chest. Your heartbeat steadies slowly, and it pains San when he decides it is time to pull away.
As he predicted, you babble tired protests at once, weakly clutching at his arm as you beg him not to go. He allows himself a contented smile, but shakes his head at your pleas.
“You need to eat,” he points out, though he can’t resist showering you with kisses. He smothers you in affection until you’re breathless and whining — which is one way to silence your protests, he supposes — but San cannot be so selfish to stay and do it all over again. He needs to take care of you. “I’ll be right back with some breakfast, alright? You need to regain your strength,” he soothes. “After, we can take a bath together, how does that sound?”
San’s tender kisses have put a dopey smile on your face, and you nod sluggishly at his proposal. “That sounds perfect,” you admit. “Just… come back soon, okay?”
“I will,” he promises, raising your hand to his lips to press a last kiss on the scab on your wrist.
San puts on a comfortable robe that he keeps in your room for just this sort of occasion, then exits, locking the door behind him out of habit. He tries not to rush himself, but still he can’t help but hurry his steps as he picks up an already prepared breakfast from the kitchen. He does not want to return to find you have abandoned him again already.
An uneasy sense of foreboding fills him as he returns to your room. The waft of sex and blood still hangs heavily in the corridor, masking your scent as he unlocks the door again in frustrated impatience. San swallows thickly, praying his bad feeling is just that; a feeling.
But the door swings open, and San knows at once. He does not even need to smell you; your freshly tear-stained, puffy cheeks already tell him that it is too late, your heartbeat spiking harshly at his return. Your arms tremble as you inch back on the bed, subtly as though you do not want to anger him, but still putting as much distance between you and San as possible.
It takes everything for San not to recoil from your sudden rejection of his gift. His fingers clench around the breakfast tray, grief burning behind his eyes. He swears, it did not used to wear off this fast.
“She’s already growing immune, isn’t she?”
Shut the fuck up, Yunho.
San shakes his head, collecting himself. It’s no matter. He sets the tray down on a side-table, and gently approaches your shaking form on the bed. He will drag you back to him again, as many times as he has to.
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Year 1:
“I’m telling you, man. You just need to drink the protein shakes Dad and I have. Don’t worry about the taste, they’re banana chocolate flavoured. It’s actually quite delicious when you get used to the texture. Then you’ll just need to go to the gyms a few times a week to get these bad boys.” I said, flexing my 16-inch arms.
“Oh, and I can make protein pancakes! Maybe I can add it to other pastries too. It’ll be healthy, useful and delicious. I bet your mom could never have thought of that.” He said smugly.
“Dude, focus. Why does everything have to be cooking with you?”
“Sorry, I got too excited there. It’s just that I haven’t made breakfast you guys liked, it’s completely her territory. For now. Maybe If I make this, you guys will eat it.”
”You know we’ll have to finish whatever you both end up cooking anyway, right?”
“Yeah, that doesn’t count. I want you to eat it because you like it.” The man said, just when I thought he was sane.
”Well that’s irrelevant. Don’t you think it’s a great idea?” He asked.
Even though he’s a maniac, I have to admit.
“I guess it’s not bad, I don’t have to drink and eat at the same time. Just don’t make too much, you get easily full with those things.”
“Don’t worry about it man. Don’t you have morning football practice to burn off the calories?”
“Alright, just don’t put raisins in there. I heard somewhere that they make you dehydrated.”
I shoo him out of the door and start undressing. Contemplating on a compression shirt or an oversized Tee, my head starts running. I am objectively muscular, but compared to the guys at the gym, I’m nothing. I don’t think I’m big enough yet. Oversized Tee it is then.
Grabbing my duffle, I ran downstairs. Then, the scent of banana chocolate sweets blasted my face.
“Morning Jay, come try it out. This is really good.” Dad called out with his mouth half full.
I picked up the buttered pancake. It smells nice, with some cherry scent in there too.
“Dang, this is not bad, Pumpkin,” I shouted to him in the kitchen.
“Right? And with more space in the stomach for drinks, you can try Chloe’s fruit smoothie.” Dad said.
“Don’t worry sweetie, the fruits are from the farmers market so it’s healthy.” Mom yelled from the kitchen.
Looking back at the breakfast, it’s a bit more bulky than usual, but I’m gonna work it off in the morning drill anyway.
Without more hesitation, I dug into the full plate of pancakes and blueberry whipped cream.
“Sweetie, you’re already done? I have more in the back.” Mom said
“She really stepped up her game, right?” Dad chimed in.
“It was awesome mom. Thank you, and help me thank Theo too. But I really need to go now. The practice starts in 30.”
“Alright sweetie, stay safe and don’t be late. I’ll have David finish off the rest.”
“Wait, me? But there’s so much!” Dad whined.
“Love you Mom, love you dad, gotta go.”
I rushed out of the house with the faint sound of their replies.
I felt bad for Dad, since school started, I’ve been leaving the leftovers to him because of school. More often than not, Theo and Mom would overcook and we would be left with more food than we know how to deal with. So Dad would take his usual time for morning runs to finish it before going to work. I need to make it up to him somehow. I guess I could offload his burden by eating more on the weekends.
The practice went as well as it could with my stomach full of pancakes; although Coach thought I had a lot of potential with all the fumbles. Probably because Dad was a star quarterback here back in his days.
“You just need to get used to the team dynamic here, then it will all be fine, Jacob. Don’t sweat it,” Coach said.
It was easier said than done. Someone literally asked me how long my dick was, then groped my pec. At least in high school, people had the decency of being embarrassed.
Maybe I do need to chill off. Go to the club like they said. I do have the biggest pecs out of everyone after all. And I heard people like big glutes, so maybe someone would want me.
It took me a month to search up a club. I was not stalling. Then, another month to put the address into Google Maps. I was busy. Homework has been rough, the professor hates me and Theo needs me to restock. Nonetheless, I finally have time now.
Yay.
Putting on Dad’s old Beige Polo, I look pretty good. The shirt hugs my muscles too much for comfort, but it’s the one day of the month I’m supposed to look like a slut. The light is going to be dimmed anyway.
Fishing for the keys, my hand found some candied fruit on the stand. The guy even knows how to make candies from leftover fruits, who even does that? I grabbed some to put it in my mouth.
On my way out I caught a glimpse of my father in the kitchen. He’s been starting to brew homemade beers with steady progress.
“Oh, Jay! You’re going out? You got a date, yeah?”
He turned back, revealing the newly grown beer belly.
“What?! Of course not. It’s the shirt right? I look like a try hard.”
”Haha, be careful whose shirt you’re insulting. That was my lucky shirt.”
He misunderstood, I just thought I would look half as in place as he looks if I wear this. I really shouldn’t go.
”You’ll be alright son, you’re a charming young man. People will see that.”
My eardrums are fucking gushing blood.
The Club sound rattled through my bones as random guy number six and random chick number four came.
Dad was right. I was quite charming, TOO charming, even.
“Oh my gosh look at those arms,” running her hand, Random chick number four said.
“He probably has killer abs too. Wanna come home with me tonight, Jock boy?” Random guy number six said.
“Sorry man, I’m straight. I also have a friend waiting for me in the car.” I replied.
“Aww man, too bad. I wanted a dumb jock to rail me tonight.” He said while walking off. Seriously, what is up with people these days?
At least I still have my 16 dollar margarita with me in the corner.
Lost in my head, a potential random guy number seven approaches.
“Hey, what’s a hot guy like you doing in the corner?” Number seven asked.
“Sorry, I’m straight.”
“Ahh, my bad. Worth a shot,” He said.
“Man, why is every Dad bod fuck boys straight? Gay people are too obsessed with their bodies to have the look,” he added.
“What did you say?” I asked.
“Oh, it’s nothing. I have a thing for guys who look like you. Not really a jock anymore, but still attracts everyone.”
My 16 dollar margarita was spilt.
“Oh, Shit. Sorry I don’t know what to do.” I’m glad to not have a friend in my car waiting to see me embarrass myself.
“Don’t worry man, I’ll handle it.” Number seven said.
I don’t know why I’m doing this. It’s not like I have a Dad bod, is a fuck boy, or even gay. But the guy he described is the kind of masculine, wild man I aspire to be. Not a shit given to what people think. Maybe I can be that guy tonight.
“Sorry I’m not the Dad bod fuck boy you thought I was.”
I already butchered it. Why the hell did I say that? That’s not what a guy without a care in the world would say.
“What if you are.” He reached under my polo and grabbed my abs. Or softer abs, cause he’s clearly grabbing something.
“But I’ve never done this before,” Holy shit, I need to shut the fuck up.
“No worries, you just need to sit back and enjoy.”
I look back at the rotting toilet. Maybe not sit.
“We’re gonna make this quick, alright?” He said. Then gave my stomach a quick squeeze.
I’m telling Mom and Theo to cut back on the food tonight.
He slid down the zipper and tugged on my dick.
“You’re not who I imagined to be, but I like pathetic boys like you too.” He said.
“Wait, what? I - fuuuck.”
He uses his thumb to twirl around my cock head; then the freak proceeds to lick my stomach pudge.
“Fuuuuuuck,” I involuntarily groaned.
“Hahaha, seems like it would be quicker than I thought.”
He laughed. Fucking laughed at me. And my dick is harder than ever before.
Then, out of nowhere. He grabbed my ass and sucked half of my length in.
“Holy sh-“ I yelped
He covered his left hand on my mouth and said hushly. “Jesus, fuck boy! Do you want everyone to hear? I mean it’s hot, but we’ll get kicked out.”
“I’m sorry, I’ve just ohhhhhh.”
He sucked the entire length in as I got into his throat. It’s cold for a second with the air being sucked, then it warms up my dick as I get closer to the edge. And, wait, did I just moan out loud?
Didn’t give me a chance to breathe, he repeated the motion again and again.
I’m really close.
“Not yet fuck boy.” He said as he guided my hand to my pec.
“What is it?” I asked.
“Twist your nipples and do not stop until we’re done.”
Strange request, but it seemed like there was a lot I didn’t know, so I complied.
“I thought only women like this?” I asked as I squeezed my nipples.
He immediately got back to work as if telling me to shut the fuck up.
Then, I feel it.
It might be the cold air conditioning or the fact that I have my cock in someone’s fucking mouth, but my nipples perked up and got sensitive all of a sudden.
He starts to squeeze and rub my stomach as my senses overload.
Once in a while, he would come up with a remark or two.
“I bet you’re the kind of guy that likes to sit around, munch all day, let other people take charge and fuck you,” He said.
”I bet your bubble butt will grow twice as big by the end of the year because you hate the gym deep down,” He said.
It all doesn’t make sense. I only have five, ten tops of weight added, but my dick gets even harder.
“Come on, fuck boy. Twist those fat tits for me,” he said as the sucking picks up the pace.
“Fuck yeah, my fat tits.” It’s all too much for me to form a thought.
“Fuck my fat ass too.”
“Yeah, faster!”
He gave my slight belly a final squeeze as I cummed harder than I’d ever experienced.
I can feel my dick still shooting out cum as I blacked out.
Someone is wiping me.
Oh, right.
“Great, you’re up.” Random man said.
”Huh?”
“It got real messy, eh?” He continues.
“Sorry, I got carried away earlier. You’re just so hot.”
It seems like he’s not going to stop talking.
“You’re obviously still a jock, but hey. A man can dream,” he said
“You’ve got some real potential, kid.” He patted my apparently now-existing belly and said.
I don’t get it. I’ve been eating more than usual lately, and Theo’s snacks don't help, but mom got the ingredients from the farmers market, so they were definitely healthy. Maybe I am missing something else.
“Here,” he hands me a small piece of paper.
“Call me if you want to do this again.”
Then just like that, the strange man leaves.
I didn’t give a second glance at the piece of paper before throwing it in the trash can.
Against my better judgment, I put my hand back in the disgusting trash can.
No harm in keeping it.
The stranger’s words ring in my head as I put an undisclosed sum of money on margaritas.
Maybe I do like being taken care of.
***
My phone vibrated for the thousandth time today, almost causing an earthquake.
“Aggggah, leave me aloneeee. Help me baby Jesus.”
The alcohol from last night, plus the vibration is enough to kill a bear.
Opening the over-lit phone, I see Theo’s happy ginger face.
Theo: Hey Jay, could you help me buy a cookbook I want at the mall, asap?
Me: kys❤️
Mom: Jacob, could you explain the language?
Shit, it's the family chat!
Me: It means keeping yourself safe, mom. I'll go to the mall in a bit!
Theo, the little bastard, replied with a laughing emoji.
Brushing my teeth, I saw myself in the mirror.
Definitely can’t unsee it now. I still have some abs definitions, it’s just pushing out now.
I hesitated, looking at the protein ice cream sandwich mom prepared for me.
Well, I do need something to settle my stomach from the alcohol. Plus, protein is always healthy.
Grabbing a few more ice cream sandwiches, I made my way to the bus.
The mall is located in the middle of nowhere. Nobody comes here except for Costco. Apparently there’s a chain book store too.
Finding the book has been proven difficult. Half the store sells stationery, and the other half sells boring books nobody wants. There is no reason for the store to be this huge.
By the time Theo, the brat, had confirmed the book, it was already past two.
“Hello, excuse me. Is there no restaurant here whatsoever?” I asked the book nerd from the counter.
“Ahhhhh, there’s ahh fast food down the lane, to um, the right?”
“Alright, thanks.” Looks like I’m going to starve myself until I get back.
Going to the bus station, I pass the fast food place. They must have had a rebranding these couple of years. They used to smell like kids puke. Now… it smells like some sweet apple pie, fries, or chicken nuggets? Yeah, definitely some chicken nuggets. Haven’t had them in years.
No. I must not get carried away.
Dad said fast foods are not real food. Ever since he watched the Super Size Me documentary, he banned the whole family from eating fast food, and I thank him for it every day.
Today will be an exception. This will be my reward for going through everything that happened this week.
“So, we have a discount for everyone who uses our app. You can also get points for a free meal in the app.” The fat ass cashier asked.
“Yeah, why not. I could save a few.” Not like I’m going to use it after this.
My hands end up with a combo of fries, burger, nuggets and a medium soda.
While enjoying the smell of garbage goods, I catch a glimpse of an obese guy sitting in the corner.
He looks. Wait, it’s Avery Lancaster.
Holy shit it’s true. He did gain 70 pounds and some more. Looks like he’s in his 300s now.
The image of his fat ass hanging off the seat brought me back to reality.
I will not eat at this restaurant ever again after this meal, so I won’t end up like him.
Except for the fries. The fries are too good to pass.
For The rest of the semester, things went as well as they could.
Homework has been piling up, the professor still hates me, so I have less time to hit the gym.
Sports are enough for me so stay fit anyway. At least until next year’s spring season starts.
Coach has been supportive of my decision to bulk up. He just gave me an ominous warning about off-season athletes bulking too much.
When the Thanksgiving holiday came, I was ready to go on a diet.
After the holidays.
Because mom has seriously improved her skills, and, as much as I don’t wanna say it, Theo’s food is basically tailored made to my taste. They might just be.
I have a sneaking suspicion that they are using Dad and I as testing metrics for their little competitions. Just a suspicion. Because recently Theo started focusing on making food for me, Mom began to make food primarily for Dad.
The suspicious duo seem to have the belief that weight equals love. If that is the case, I am truly screwed. There is no one but dead people who can resist Theo’s cooking. I’ve even been brainwashed to think Theo’s food rants are interesting, that’s how powerful he is.
By the end of the Christmas dinner, I could tell that Theo had probably lost in their competition by the look on his face. I almost felt bad for not eating enough.
It's not like the food wasn’t good; my opponent is Dad. His appetite is unmatched. At the beginning of the year, he barely eats anything for breakfast while keeping his plant-based diet. Now he’s an absolute beast, he can inhale 15 pancakes at the speed of sound. Whatever I’ve gained this year, Dad probably has gained twice as much. He also grew out his beard and body hair which I struggle to do. There is literally no better definition of man than him.
After the Christmas dinner, I went up to assess the damage.
Twenty-two pounds of flabby fat gained this year.
Why don’t I at least look like Dad with a firm, rounded gut? Instead, mine grows around the underbelly, looking like a soft fanny pack.
I need to stop thinking about this. I’m still muscular after all. 215 is nothing compared to the guys on the team.
“Oh, it’s nothing. I have a thing for guys who look like you. Not really a jock anymore, but still attracts everyone.” His voice echoed in my head.
Deleting the notifications from the fast food app, I opened the phone and dialled the number for Random Guy number 7.
Chapter 2 ->
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