#typos stay my fingers are NUMB

[imwritesometimes]

you cannot make this shit up - my heater is out again

[simpjaes]

ONE OF THE DAMNED GIRLS PT. 2 (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 one | MINORS DNI

PAIRING ― vampire park sunghoon x afab reader  

WORDCOUNT ― 21.8k

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 ― you must read part one to understand the story. anyway i did not mean to go in so deep with jungwon, i just really fucking adore him please forgive me. anyway, this is briefly edited. if you see a typo, shhhhhh, i don't wanna know.

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

・・・・・・・・・・・・・・

“My love, let me.” 

You sit up only to be eased back onto the soft mattress. Pillows plush against your head as Sunghoon dabs away at each puncture he’s left on you. 

“You know you can’t sit up so quickly, just rest and let me.” 

You’re littered with his bites by now and you only grow more and more enamored with the feeling of it. Or, perhaps you just enjoy the fact that he’s fixated on drinking from you. Multiple times a day, until your fingers and toes are numb, until you can barely stand without dropping to the floor. 

Enamored through all of it, really. With the way he bites so gently only to suck harder and harder until his fingers grip and pierce through your skin much like his teeth do. He’ll hold you so hard through it, forcing arousal to run through you every single time he goes for that artery in your thigh. You think that’s his favorite spot to bite, if the dozens of wounds there are anything to go by. Truly, you’re enamored with him, always wanting to give him more just so he stays with you longer. 

You seem to have lost yourself in the lust of it all. The fantasy, the desire. On the brink of insanity, you know you’ve grown obsessed with what Sunghoon does to you, and it’s to the point that you don’t question yourself like you normally would. Your desire for this is too strong, far too intimidating to doubt. 

But since that night, he always leaves you with blood against his lips. Aroused, frustrated, confused. Never once letting a hand stray too far, never letting his lips trace anywhere but to your wounds or new expanse of skin that needs to be bitten. 

For days now you’ve been here. You lay here one full day since you were supposed to be back at work too, just waiting for the moment Sunghoon will do more than just drink from you. Mostly for a confirmation. It feels like you’re forcing yourself to go missing for this alone and every night you lie awake in this room waiting, wanting more from him now than you think you ever have.

The room you're in now is lonely, though adorned nearly as beautiful as the one you were in the night Sunghoon stole you away. You know the place you want to be is just down the hall, but your legs won’t carry you there no matter how much you try. He’s rendered you bed ridden and you miss it there, with his silk sheets and candle lit walls. 

Then again, maybe it’s not the room at all that you miss. Maybe it’s just Sunghoon.

You can’t help but note that when he’s on you or next to you, there’s nowhere else you’d rather be. But when you’re alone, you feel your skin crawl with such immense anxiety that you nearly want to scream out for him to come back. Several times already you have called out for him mere moments after he’s left the room. It gives you hope in knowing that each time, he does return to you even if just for a moment. 

All of it is very arousing when he comes to you, but it’s killing you inside to know that he does nothing more than feed off of you. You get nothing out of it but his presence, and perhaps he expects that to be enough. It’s driving you insane to give everything you have to him so willingly, knowing he hasn’t offered anything back to you. 

The fact that you want this, you want him, and you want to be the only blood he craves? It’s a feeling you’ve had to accept, because trying to deny it at this point would only lead you down a more destructive path. As if the one you’re on now isn’t already killing you, if not physically, emotionally. You want to be the person lying in his bed again so badly. You want to show him that you’re no longer terrified. You want to give him equal arousal and interest. 

But he doesn’t offer it. No, he simply bites. 

“I can do it.” You say to him in a frustrated sigh. “I’m not helpless, you know.” 

He’s taken aback by the way you rip the gauze from his hands, sitting up and scooting away from him when you dip it into the bowl of alcohol. Your head spins at the act, but you push through the weakness anyway, knowing he doesn’t like the distance you’re creating between him and you. 

You don’t like the distance either, but it’s helpful to know he doesn’t ignore it. 

“I’m aware.” Sunghoon narrows his eyes at the way your heart is beating for him right now, taking the gauze back from you and gripping your arm to pull you back and against him. “Why are you being difficult?” 

He cleans a wound just under your jaw as he looks at you, waiting for you to answer him. You stare back as if it’s the most obvious thing in the world, not wincing at all like you previously had when he lets the alcohol burn the swollen punctures.

“Hah, so you can’t read minds?” You confirm for yourself, though you had the suspicion that he couldn’t. “You just keep doing this–” You continue, trying not to sound as if you’re nagging. “And nothing else.”

He tilts his head as he moves the gauze to another part of your neck, knowing full well what it is you want. 

“Nothing else?” He repeats in a sly question. “Is there more you want?”

You nod slightly, feeling the cold alcohol send a shiver across your skin, your head finally clearing of the dizziness just from sitting up.

“Name it.” 

Somehow, you lose the ability to ask for what you want. It feels silly to be mad that he hasn’t given you any sexual pleasure despite feeding off of you for days now. Is it insane that sex is all you want in return? Should you ask for financial compensation or something? 

“Ah.” He answers for you with an all-knowing smirk, his nostrils flaring as he inhales your scent. “You want pleasure, yes?”

“Do you not?” You ask simply, and he pulls back with the gauze to look at you dumbfounded. 

For a solid twenty seconds the two of you stare at each other before he’s dropping the gauze into the bowl and pulling you against him in full, turning your body so that your back is to his chest. His strong arms are still cold, but you feel warm enough against him like this.

“It pleases me to know you want it.” He smiles against the top of your head. “Unfortunately, I have other things to tend to.” He continues, pausing to hold you a bit closer. “I still have to feed, love, and I still need to maintain order here. I cannot just spread your legs every waking minute.” 

You’re not asking for him to fuck you every waking minute. It makes you feel as if he’s annoyed to even use such words regarding this. Still, your cheeks warm at his sweet voice. 

“As much as I’d like to.” 

Oh. Your cheeks aren’t just warm, they’re on fire at those words. You’d grasp at anything right now, despite feeling like an afterthought. You don’t like that you’re not a priority to him, even though he fucking feeds on you consistently. To the point you can’t even stand for a full minute without fucking fainting from blood loss. Still, you accept his words and try to think of the positives over the negatives. 

Unfortunately, you’ll never be satisfied with just his words and a mere ten seconds later you’re right back to questioning, doubting, and feeling upset. 

So he can feed this often, but not even slip a finger into you through it? 

Priorities. He has to feed, he said? Does he not already?! 

“Wait, Sunghoon, you do feed.” You argue. “On me.” 

He shakes his head at your ignorance of believing he’ll ever truly have enough of you. Even past death, he’ll never have enough. Which is precisely why you’re still breathing. 

“There are needs I have that you’ve yet to understand. You satiate the hunger, yes, but that is nothing more than a feeling, not a truth.” 

You try to comprehend his words but fall short. Only because that would mean–

“You’re becoming afraid again,” He comments on your heart rate. “Calm yourself, darling, the need within me is no fault of my own and I’ll continue to keep you from seeing the act take place.”

There’s silence from you as you try to calm yourself down. Of course he has to feed, but…is that not what he’s already been doing to you? Your heart isn’t racing from fear, it’s racing from–jealousy.

“So, mine isn’t enough?” You feel your heart shatter a bit when you voice it, knowing full well that for him to be full, he likely has to kill.

Why are you jealous? Well, if you’re so irresistible like he says you are, why does he hold back? Why are you still alive? Does your blood not taste as good as whoever else he’s been having at? Why does he keep you around, but no one else? Maybe they’re the ones who are irresistible, and you’re just a placeholder for if he can’t find his meal for the night. Maybe he’s just using you. 

“Hmm.” Sunghoon thinks hard at your question. “You’re feeling envious?” 

You don’t respond to him or the way he clocks your jealousy, and instead shake his grip off of you before grabbing the gauze yourself again.

He watches you take the material and dip it into the liquid, moving it down your legs and to the assault of wounds against your thigh. 

“You’re truly strange.” He licks his lips at the sight of your thighs, listening closely to the artery you have there, always so hungry for more but knowing he need not drink for the time being. After all, he’s just eaten. “Almost as unnatural as I am.” 

You have to force back a smile at the truth of his words though, softening at the way he compares you to him like the two of you fit together perfectly. The jealousy rages within you, but so does this strange adoration you have for him. 

“To think I don’t crave you? Have I not shown you already?” 

“Hmm, you might need to remind me.” You’re being playful now, trying to get what you want. Entirely thankful for the way he solves every problem you have with him in your head even if just for a moment.

You think you’ll always miss him on a deeper level than just sitting and speaking though.

“When can I leave the room?” You ask now, suddenly. “When can I come back to your room?” 

Sunghoon doesn’t fight his own smile, loving the way you stay of your own free will, even while upset with him for not giving you more than that single night of love making. 

“Not yet, love.” He mutters now, knowing that it’s not likely for you to be able to make it down the hallway without calling for his help, also knowing that he can’t give you what you want again so soon. 

“Oh.” You look at him, face falling. “Let me guess, because you have better shit to do.” 

“Still so envious.” He shakes his head with a laugh. “You’ll learn soon enough how I need you.” 

Just, not yet. 

After all, he drinks you until he has no choice but to stop. Multiple times a day, draining you until it’s near dangerous. The fact that you enjoy it drives him to do it more and more. 

You think it’s easy for him to utilize self-control around you? You think he doesn’t want to experience you in every way you can offer? With those pretty sounds you make? God, he misses the way your body hugged his cock so much. You’re out of your mind to think he’s holding out on you because he doesn’t want it. Because you're not good enough? Stupid, stupid girl. 

He needs it. He wants it. He’s fucking obsessed with what you do to him.

You’re truly not the only one trying to adjust to this situation. He has to be very careful with you, and having sex with you could very well break the resolve he’s forced into himself. A simple touch from you that feels too good could have him acting on a split second decision, drinking until you’re dead and cold, just like him. 

Essentially, he has to train himself to your scent and taste. Sure, he’s been fucking nearly every victim since his cock started working again, but it doesn’t change the fact that he’d rather it be you. In fact, the only reason he’s fucking them is to satiate the need to destroy everything that you are for his own desire of having you. 

The issue is that his drive to kill is insanely high, smelling you just down the hall makes every new victim taste better. It makes his cock fuck harder, it makes their bodies feel almost good enough for him to release. But they’re not you, and it’s rendering him unable to control himself. 

His recent victims? Oh, it ends so gruesomely. He feels overheated in the moment, drenched, fucking feral when he makes his kill. Wishing it was you, ignoring the scent of the person beneath him just to smell you from a different room. 

If he gets his hands on you when he’s in that state of mind again, you’ll be gone forever. That’s something Sunghoon wouldn’t be able to live with. Already he’s controlled himself through it once and that may very well have been the hardest thing he’s done in his life. He can’t promise that he can hold back again.

Until he can feed and fuck without feeling his instinct grab him by the throat, he cannot do more than small feedings with you. That alone is training all on its own, because every single time he feeds, he struggles not to take all of it. 

Bit by bit. Sunghoon has to take you piece by fucking piece. And your willingness to do it, entirely awake and aware, makes it all the more difficult. 

He can’t tell you this. Not yet, at least. You’d know the danger you’re in. Nor can he pretend like he will let you leave out of fear. He needs to keep this peace with you until he can truly enjoy you in a way that will ensure you’ll be alive and well after the fact.

And so, he changes the subject, grabbing you even tighter and hugging you in the way any modern boyfriend would. This. This is something he can handle.

“Are you bored of me carrying you across the room?” He asks. “Do you miss walking on your own two feet that much, if just to make it to my room?” He smiles now, making jokes with you that feel a bit dry when it hits your ears. 

“Are you implying that I’m a slut?” You laugh at his attempt to make you smile, slapping against his cold arm playfully. “That the only reason I want to leave this room is to come into yours and fuck you?” 

He shrugs from behind you, hugging tighter, wanting to be under your skin with that beating heart.

“Am I not right to assume? You little harlot.” 

Well, he got you there. 

And you laugh with him about it, living in your little fantasy world like this never has to end. Reality looms taller than Sunghoon does, unfortunately. 

He can feel your heart rate pick up when your laugh slows down. 

“But, Sunghoon, I can’t stay here for much longer like this.” You drop it on him like it’s the easiest thing in the world, and oh how he wishes you could just disappear with him. “I haven’t been home, my phone is there and I’m sure people have been calling.”

His eyes darken at your words as he pushes you from his grasp. Already you wish to leave? After complaining to him about what he doesn’t give you? Is that why you’re saying this right now? No sex means you’ll leave? 

Serves him right for not using the pull on you. He should have kept hold of your mind rather than relish in your willingness. 

“I’ve missed work already.” Your voice gets smaller as you watch him move from the bed and stand in front of you, the scent of cinnamon assaulting your nose along with his darkened and intimidating facial expression. “I– I’ll–come back. I promise.” You cower immediately.

Sunghoon shakes his head at you. 

“Did I not make myself clear?” He deepens his voice, unsure of how to handle his own internal panic. “Never have I let a commoner leave this cathedral alive and knowing the truth.” 

“Are you–threatening me?” You ask, scooting away from him and accidentally knocking over the bowl of alcohol with your foot. 

“Did you not just say you envy the others? Envy dying by my hand?” He questions you back, looming over you in an intimidating stance. Suddenly much, much taller than reality.  “Every time you’ve said you’d come back, you’ve done no such thing. Have I upset you this much?”

You frantically shake your head. 

“No, no!” You lift your hands in defense, reaching out to his towering figure. “I want to be here with you! You just said yourself that you have things to tend to, so do I! If I don’t show up at work, or at least have my phone, people will have the fucking cops out and looking for me!” 

Sunghoon softens, cinnamon air fading out within a second. He feels only slightly ashamed of his immediate outburst when all you can offer back to him is truth. Perhaps you’re the only one living in the real world, even if he’s been living in it for far, far, longer. 

You’ve pulled him into a fantasy, just like he has for you. He truly let himself forget that you’re no victim that’s meant to die. You can’t just disappear without question, and already it has been days. 

Still, you can’t just leave him. 

“I see.” He says, reaching down to grab at the hands you have clinging to his clothes in an attempt to calm himself more than you. “Shall I retrieve your device for you then?” 

You slowly nod, looking away from him and ignoring the fact that as much as you do want to be here with him, the fact that he just implied that you can never leave is a bit– um, intense. So, you don’t argue when you nod to him. If anything, to keep the peace.

“I’ll see to it that you have it in your hands by tonight. And in time, I’ll invite you back to my quarters.” Ending his sentence with a bribe to keep you here felt fitting, and he’s thankful for the way you accept it. 

You nod quicker now, entirely satisfied with his words when he steps back and away from you. 

“Now, please finish cleaning your wounds. I don’t want to taste infection in you.” 

Despite feeling better about it, wanting him still, those words hurt you. You feel insulted by the time he leaves you alone in the room. Like if you got an infection he’d simply lose interest in you, or perhaps end this love of your blood he has. 

He may even just go ahead and kill you if that were to happen.

It drives you to clean yourself twice over. Three times over. Unwilling to lose the feeling of someone biting you so gently, unwilling to die because your use to him has run out. And it feels like you clean yourself all day. To the point you’re probably making yourself more susceptible to infection rather than protecting yourself from it. 

And in this room, time doesn’t exist. There’s a window indicating where the sun is in the sky, but hours and minutes are meaningless. Only when the sun is up do you start counting, knowing that Sunghoon will only visit you during nightfall. 

You clean yourself for what you assume to be hours upon hours, all the way up until the sun falls and you hear the door creak open. You expect to see Sunghoon coming in for his routine of drinking from you, but instead, you find a pale-eyed nun rush to you with your phone and immediately leave after. 

A quick presence is gone within a moment, but you pay no mind as you look down at your phone. You’re thankful for the fact that it’s probably been on the charger all four days you’ve been gone. Considering, well, there’s no electricity this high up in the cathedral, you’ll have to save your battery as best as you can. 

So many missed calls. 

Even more missed texts. 

Dozens of emails. 

Jungwon.

In the morning after you left your apartment, he checked in with you. All throughout the day too. It wasn’t until that same night where his texts became frantic. A little, “i’m coming over, fuck you if you get mad at me for it.” followed by “are you mad at me? why won’t you respond?” 

You couldn’t help but chuckle at that.

Really though, it hurts your heart to have forgotten about him entirely during your time here. Reading through his texts, you see him fight with himself over your absence. Up until yesterday, where he texts you from the museum. 

A glaring “stopped by again today only to realize your apartment was unlocked this whole time. i’m with your boss now, we are calling the cops if you don’t respond within the next ten seconds.” 

A full day late, you respond quickly. 

You: wonnie!!! i’m sorry! I got sad and went home to see my mom. totally ignored my phone…and forgot to lock the door i guess

You: you know, hormones lol 

Immediate spam. Your phone vibrates aggressively back to back with his frantic texts. 

Wonnie: you have to be fucking JOKING

Wonnie: NOT A SINGLE WORD FROM YOU. YOU COULD HAVE CALLED WORK OR

SOMETHING FROM SOMEONE ELSE’S PHONE. I WAS AT YOUR PLACE EVERY DAY.

Wonnie: i CANNOT believe you!!!!!!!!!!!

Wonnie: your whole ass apartment was unlocked and you weren’t there! anyone could’ve walked right in!!!!! are you stupid or something? 

Wonnie: are you home now?

Wonnie: i’m so mad at you FUCK

Wonnie: i got so scared

Wonnie: im coming over

You panic. 

You: wait, i’m not home yet. I didn’t mean to stay so long, I promise ill be home soon and fill you in on everything. 

Wonnie: call your boss. 

Wonnie: ill deal with the cops, then im gonna be waiting outside of your apartment

Wonnie: don’t ever fucking do that shit again, been crying all morning

Wonnie: i hate you so much right now, im never talking to you again

Wonnie: get your stupid ass back home 

You smile fondly at his worry, but the smile is short lived as you know you probably can’t leave here. Not only from the fact that Sunghoon appears to be unwilling to let you leave but you…don’t want to.

Still, you do need to call your boss, and you make quick work of it. Sitting dissociated through the mindless scolding of your terrible lie of an excuse, and then the following call from the local police department. 

Arguably, speaking to the police was easier than knowing you’ll have to lie to Jungwon again. At least the police are aware that you’re a grown woman who can disappear if she wishes. Jungwon, on the other hand, requires a little more care and consideration. 

You’re tired by the time you lay your phone down, unable to keep your eyes open as you drift off. 

・・・・・・・・・・・・・・

Some time later, you wake to the same familiar scent of Sunghoon wafting from under your door. It doesn’t process yet in your brain that you’ve not smelled it since the night you wandered from your apartment. But now? Oh, it’s strong. 

It’s very, very strong. 

Your drowsy eyes look to the door as your legs carry you there, and out you go. Down the hallway, straight to those big doors, straight through those big doors.

The scent burns in your throat the moment you step inside, blurry eyes witnessing two figures right there on the floor. The only clear thing you can make out are his darkened narrowed eyes, only because your brain refuses to process the act taking place in front of you at first.

He looks…rabid. Hair is a mess, sticky and dripping with thick metallic liquid. 

Oh, it sounds so loud. The squelching and the smacking of skin. Your stomach drops, the pit inside of it flourishing with nothing short of rotted desire. 

Right there on the floor of his room lies a woman seemingly experiencing god. Sunghoon is moaning with his eye trained on your shocked figure. He ignores the woman’s aroused grasps against his arms to keep his eyes trained on you. And he just…smirks through it, licking his lips, rolling his eyes back only for them to fall right back to you.

The squelching rings in your ears as he moves faster, feverishly chasing a hunt he’s already got lying beneath him. Almost as if catching him in the act aroused him more than he already had been. Like he’s showing you how much more he’d prefer someone else over you. 

He moans your name inwardly again and again, as if to call you forward to him but your feet can no longer move as you process the act with each call of your name. 

He’s fucking her. He’s devouring her. 

Not you. Her. 

You can feel your heart shrivel at the act when you stumble back, a twisting pain in your chest that you feel silly over. You barely know Sunghoon, but somehow it feels like he’s given you more of himself than he has anyone else. He speaks that way to you, anyway. Always with the words of “I’ve never done this, until you.” 

That was a lie. You’re seeing it now with your own two eyes and you’re paying for believing that you, somehow, could be special. And the pain in your chest travels all throughout your body at the fact that you let this man bite you. You let him take and take until you could barely stand, until you could barely think, until you were right on the cusp of death. 

And you still want to do that for him. But now? He’s grown bored of you. Perhaps he intends to let this woman live too. Perhaps she’s silly enough to fall for a sweet vampire’s words too.

You stumble back more, forcing your legs to work with you rather than against you. It’s like your body has a mind of its own when he smells so welcoming. Cinnamon, spicy, sweet, painful cinnamon. Such a suffocating smell, easy to give in to and grow weak for. At least for you, that’s how it feels. 

When you force yourself to turn around, only to continue stumbling down the hallway, your eyes work against you now too. You knew it would happen though and it’s not something you can stop. The burn and blur of tears prickling at the corners, your throat scratchy and sore. 

You try to hold it in, feeling as if life is being suffocated out of you all the way down. Down, down, down. Past the nuns, past the beautiful and intricate interior, and straight out of the big front doors of the cathedral. 

No goodbyes. 

The breezy night air smacks you hard, forcing a sobbed breath out of you. You dry heave for a moment, squeezing your eyes shut so tight just to try and regain control of yourself and your emotions. The images behind your eyes flash back and forth. You’ve not just witnessed death, but the pleasure of death. Well, if he kills the woman, anyway. 

And you still can’t fathom it. The way you feel, the way you’re reacting, the intense desire for death if it means Sunghoon wants you that badly. Never would you have guessed that a feeling so deeply terrifying exists. But it does, you’re witnessing it overtake the deepest parts of you right now. 

Fuck, you didn’t want to leave but you did. And now here you are, freed from a grasp that you still want so badly. 

Your lungs burn and your chest hurts more than the swollen puncture wounds all over your body. Everything is burning. It’s too, too, hot inside of your skin right now and there’s nothing more you’d rather do than to crawl out of it and freeze. 

Still, you do your best to control the emotions within you. You take a short look around only to feel the head rush hit you now like it should have when you stood from your bed. Right, the blood in your body likely isn’t enough to keep you upright for long and you know you’ll likely not make it to your apartment in this state. 

But you try. Your eyes are out of focus and your legs are clumsy as you try to walk. Down the sidewalk you go, until–

“Woah, little lady.” 

You hear Balor’s voice echo in your ears. The sound of safety feeling so, so far away. 

You can’t even thank him for it because your vision blurs more at the feeling of big, leather clad arms holding you upright, and then– you’re out.

You’re not sure how much time has passed by the time you’re able to hold your eyes open again, but when you do, Jungwon is here and so is that hot bartender you forgot existed. And as you try to comprehend where you are, you learn very quickly that you’re in the back room of the club with concerned eyes focused on..not your face, your body.

“Let’s get you home.” Jungwon’s concerned voice settles in your ears, and only now do you feel his warm hands soothing you against your shoulders. 

“Or maybe a hospital?” Jay offers, also inspecting your skin and the weak state of your body as you try to sit up. 

“No, no. I’m okay, really.” You say, immediately starting to cry out. “Please, just take me home.” 

And so, home is where you go. Jay drives both you and Jungwon there with a kind voice and worried eyes. You see him make the attempt to hug you before leaving, but Jungwon is quick to stop him with a small shake of his head. 

“Let me know when you’re feeling better.” Is all Jay says when he leaves, which, you’re sure he didn’t intend to leave but of course, Jungwon. You can see that he wants to be the one here with you and he insisted to Jay that he’s got you. 

It heals your heart a little bit, but doesn’t change the fact that you’re embarrassed for not only Jungwon to be pulled into your mess, but Jay too? 

You’re humiliated. 

And by the time Jungwon has undressed and redressed you, ignoring the intense smell of alcohol against your skin for now, he’s immediately lying next to you, clinging to you really. 

 You’re aware of what he saw when he removed your clothes. You heard the breath he took in, you saw his confusion at how the clothes you had on were very much not from your closet. He’s going to ask, and you knew he would.

“You’re really cold.” He says in a cracked voice, gentle and sweet as he tries to warm you up. “You weren’t with your mom, were you?” 

You weakly shake your head. 

“You were with that guy you told me about before.” He says now, grabbing you tighter pretending he doesn’t know just how many wounds you have under your clothes. He can’t help but hold you tighter, even if it hurts you.

“What did he do to you?” 

Your throat starts to burn as you cry again. You can barely process what’s happened yourself and explaining it to someone else only feels that much harder. 

The pulsing in your head is too much, you can’t even think straight right now. 

“It was–” You try to calm down, breathing in deep but avoiding eye contact. “It was consensual, don’t worry.” 

Jungwon’s eyes narrow, staring at the deep bite marks on your neck. He’s quick to lift himself up, ripping your shirt up and off of you without so much as trying to be gentle. His panic is blatant and he’s entirely unable to hide how pissed off he is right now.

“No, it wasn't.” He dead-pans as he presents your own body to you, his voice coming out harsher than usual. “You’d be out of your fucking mind to think i believe that this was consensual.” 

He glares at the swollen marks, unsure as to what to do with himself. 

“Fuck,” He scoffs your name along with the curse, throwing his hands up. “Fucking look at them.”

You turn away from him now, wrapping your arms around yourself protectively in an attempt to not peer at what you wish you could have more of. You know what this looks like though, and you’re really trying to see things from his perspective. 

But…It’s hard after everything you’ve witnessed yourself. 

‘It was.” You say again. “I practically begged him to keep doing it.” 

Jungwon falls silent as he counts. 1, 2, 3, 13, 25, 56, 72, still more.

“I wasn’t going to come home, you know.” You sigh out at the silence of his counting. 

More silence. 

“Was gonna stay and never leave.” 

“What? Why?” He panics more at the admittance, dropping down over you and forcing your arms from yourself, trying to pretend he didn’t re-open some of your wounds by tearing your shirt off of you. 

You can hear your best friend crying at the way you hide from him, all bloodied and bruised, but you keep your eyes closed even tighter. All he can do is lend you the entire weight of his body, enveloping you in all of his warmth and care, using his entire body to shield you from even the air in your room. 

“What did he do?” Jungwon pleads for an answer with a cracked whisper. He needs context. Anything to explain the state of you right now.

“You wouldn’t understand.” 

“What did he do?” He presses again, voice only cracking more as he cries along with you. 

“It’s more so what he didn’t do.” 

Silence again. 

“What did he fucking do?” 

You take in a deep breath, sighing out against your best friend’s fluffy hair, humming at his warmth and how much you’ve missed it. 

There’s nothing you can say to make him understand, all you can do is try because hearing him like this is, arguably, just making it more painful.

“I just really liked him, and I guess he didn’t like me so much in the end.” 

Jungwon chooses to take that at face value, opting to not let you out of his sight from this moment forward if he can help it. At one point with you, he was worried about being too clingy. Truly, he was afraid he would annoy you by attaching himself. Never has he grown so close to a person so fast and never has he gained such comfort within someone else’s bubble like he does with you. The comfort is still there, but no longer does he give a single fuck about clinging too much. You clearly cling too.

If you cling enough to let a man abuse your body like that, you’ll be able to handle him clinging just as much, enough to care for you, and enough to not fucking leave your side. He’s not going anywhere, and there’s not a damn thing you can do about it.

After all, he’s not stupid, but he’s willing to act as dumb as you need him to if it means you’ll let him keep you within arms reach. In his head, there’s no way you fell into something with someone who could do this to you without reason, and it appears it’s not a question he’ll get a clear answer from you any time soon. 

It doesn’t matter if his installation will come to an end at some point. He can’t just leave you here when there’s some strange man running around biting the fuck out of people like a rabid dog. Abusing his best friend? No. He won’t have it and he doesn’t care if he has to force you to accept his protection.

He can’t do much for you, but he’s willing to at least be here with you. 

“Hey, it’s okay.” Jungwon soothes you, clinging tighter just to feel some of those reopened wounds bleed onto him. His voice is a stark reminder that there’s more to feel in your body than just pain. “I won’t let him near you again, okay?”

You nod, still crying as you cling back, trying to ignore the images in your head of Sunghoon. 

“Okay.” You lie, missing him too much already, the faint scent of cinnamon still in your nose. 

And you fall asleep like that. Warm. 

・・・・・・・・・・・・・・

You hate calling it an “escape.” You carried yourself out of that beautiful cathedral against your body begging you to stay. Still, even now with Jungwon clinging so warmly at night, you wish you had never left. 

Even the pain of seeing what Sunghoon does behind your back, the jealousy that came with it, you would have stayed if only to prove your worth to him. Being so close to death is exhilarating, and you find yourself feeling entirely empty and void of any emotion that brings joy because of it. 

This isn’t depression, nor is it simple envy. This sadness within you sinks lower than you thought possible, so deeply rooted within you that you feel death itself couldn’t even allow a safe escape. After all, if vampires are real, who's to say you won't end up as a tormented ghost forever searching for a man who can never die?

Damned if you live, damned if you die, so to say. You can’t have Sunghoon either way, you can only have him while suffering. 

And oh, how you miss the cold. You miss his cold. You miss the fear too. You miss the way he’d laugh with no breath against you and drink from your thighs like he needed more. You miss the way your wounds would pulse in pain and lend little reminders of the teeth that pierced them. Even now, they’re healing so well.

And it still hurts.

It hurts to know he said, while holding you, that he craves you. That he very much wants you but has things to tend to. The fact that he needed to tend to fucking other women while drenched in their blood? Things to tend to. 

Because to Sunghoon, real life women, breathing women, are minimized to things to tend to.

Fucking vampires. 

It’s been a week now since you left and it hasn’t gotten easier. During the week, Jungwon hasn’t so much as let you shower without the bathroom door open. You guess that’s fair. 

Still, it has only been a week. A week of everything moving fast, a week of Jungwon, a week of slow and dreadful acceptance, and a week of smelling nothing but faint, ever so slight, cinnamon. 

By now you know it’s him. Like he’s truly dug his claws into you and doesn’t intend to let you forget all that he took from you. Always that fucking smell, from the first night you met him until now. Yet he is nowhere to be seen, even when you stare at the cathedral after the sun goes down. 

No one has left. No one has gone inside. 

Part of you even found yourself worrying if he’s eaten. Hah. Funny.

Still, you’re forced to live in reality now. Nothing but healing wounds, meaningful days, and reminders that you let yourself fall as quickly and painfully as possible. 

You’re entirely dissociated, as if you’re gliding rather than walking, as if each day passes in a second rather than a twenty four hour time span, as if you’re truly empty now and not filled with the blood you thought meant so much. 

Somehow, you find comfort in the emptiness though. Jungwon fills the space as best he can too. He always accepts your rejections of going to update Jay at the club just to sit between your legs on the living room floor and try to make you laugh through silly faces riddled with concern.

You assume he’s in contact with Jay anyway, letting him know that you’re not quite dead yet. 

The days blur together now, up until two weeks pass, three weeks, four, five weeks.

Thankfully, by the fifth week, it’s gotten easier. Each day you just have to remind yourself that you can never forget Jungwon again like you did before. He’s the one who helped you through this, and to think you’d ever make him go through this again is insane. In fact, he’s the reason you finally feel good inside again. 

He’s like medicine, which is cringe and lame as fuck to say but it’s true. Internally, he’s made you feel better. Yet, right beside all those happy warm feelings lies everything else. Distress, sadness, anxiety. 

They still seep out of you too. Every night, really, after the daytime wears off and Jungwon runs out of things to distract you with.

“Why do you have to look at me like that?” Jungwon says sweetly, sprawled out on your bed in his pajamas as he watches you pace around your room. “I swear, it’s like everything I say to you goes through one ear and out the other.” 

You pause in your step, sad eyes reaching his face. 

“I already told you I’m not going home.” He repeats himself for what feels like the thousandth time to you. “I’m still getting paid, I have enough to last me if you let me stay here before finding work.”

After all, it’s not like Jungwon has anything to go back home to. Save for an annoying sister who probably wanted him to move the fuck out of her space anyway. He’s the last person on this earth to be afraid to up and move out with a near stranger.

You’re not so much a stranger to him though, and the need to be by your side far outweighs anything else right now. 

“Yeah, but, eventually.”

Never have you been one to worry about fleeting time. Never until you met that dead motherfucker. You worry about not what is happening, but what will happen. The inevitable. You no longer welcome it. 

It’s not death that brings the anxiety though, it’s just…the clock. 

With the ticking, the tocking, and the changing of seasons. Everything lasts both too long and not long enough. At this moment, the fear is Jungwon leaving at some point in your life. For any reason at all, really. 

He’s been by your side since you found your way back to him. A nuisance at times, yes, but you’re attached. To an unhealthy degree, you are fucking attached to him at the hip. He’s your only grounding force on this earth and you think he’s picking up on it. 

To the point he’s offered to drop his entire life an hour away just to stay for you. 

Yes, Jungwon recognizes how toxic and unhealthy the friendship has become, but he doesn’t know what else to do. He can’t just leave, nor does he want to. Even if he’s the one who leaves to get your mail, he’s the one who cooks, and he’s the one who holds you close at night, reminding you that time doesn’t have to mean a damn thing if you try hard enough to forget about the man who doesn’t experience it at all.

There’s no way you can get through a single day without him right now, and the thought of having to do it in the future scares you. 

You know it’s pathetic. You know you have no right to keep him in a box next to you as a comfort, you know he’s still got a life to live and romance to find. But…you hate it. 

“Eventually what?” He quirks a brow at you, having been concerned for you and the shift in your entire personality yet again tonight. You’ve changed for the worse, and it terrifies him to see you act so gone. 

“You’re gonna leave me here alone.” Your voice is small, cracking when you say it only because you hear the words ring in your ears. 

A pathetic whine, as if you’re speaking to someone else and not Jungwon. You’re not you anymore. No, you’ve become obsessed with the looping memories and feelings that took a mere four days to fall in love with. 

Addicted to emptiness but begging for Jungwon to forever be the crutch you stand on. 

You’re selfish and you have no fucking right to do this to him.

“Hey…” He rolls out of bed and steps up to you, easily putting a soothing hand against your shoulder. “Do you want me to stay?”

You nod. Knowing this same situation happens nearly every night. You panic, he soothes. You beg, he reminds you that he’s the one who offered in the first place. You ask him to stay, he confirms by asking you to let him.

And to him, he knows this is anything but a romantic partnership. You very much need someone here who is willing to play dumb but remain hyper aware. He wants to be this person for you because of his own selfish reasons too. 

It’s not all for you.

For one, he wants the girl back that he met last month. Secondly, he wants to see you learn and grow, because he knows you have a long and beautiful life ahead of you (and he better be fucking part of it.) And lastly, he’s never felt needed like this and there’s something in him that craves to be important too. 

It’s not too difficult for Jungwon to find people that’s important to him. Really, it never takes much. Perhaps someone held the door open for him, he’d probably jump in front of a bus for that person not two seconds later. But to feel just as important to someone else? 

He needs to be here with you. As toxic as it may seem to outsiders, Jungwon sees nothing wrong with being the person you need simply because you’re the person he needs too. 

“Then stop saying stupid shit.” He mopes now as he pulls you back to your bed and holds you much like he always does, trying to lighten the mood. “You’re always okay at work, but I swear the second we come home you’re falling apart.”

You freeze, falling apart instantly. 

“I wish you’d tell me what happened.” He says now, jumping into the typical routine of calming and soothing you. “I don’t know what to do when you get like this.”

You wish you would tell him too. 

But if he knew, that hope of ever seeing Sunghoon again would crumble. Already, Jungwon swears to you that he will never let this happen to you again. But you want it to, so, so badly. 

Even if you’re taking advantage of his care by letting him treat you like a child who can’t escape a tantrum, he really flipped his whole life because you chose to live in a crisis. 

You chose to do this to yourself and to Jungwon. 

Finally, you look up at him with your fingers gripping him.

“I ask so much from you.” You sniffle when you say it, immediately calming yourself and feeling like a fucking idiot for doing this. “I feel like I’m going insane.” 

He nods.

“You kind of are.” He confirms for you. “And you have to talk about it eventually, it’s just going to keep hurting if you don’t.”

He’s right. He’s always right. 

And like always, every single time you imagine how you’ll tell him, nothing in your brain can form a sentence. But you do try and by now, accustomed to your pain, you feel like something needs to be said before he grows tired of you too. 

“I don’t know why, but I wanted him to kill me so badly.” 

Saying it out loud doesn’t feel as good as you wanted it to, not with the way Jungwon’s face immediately contorts into panic.

“Wha-”

“But he wouldn’t do it.” You shake your head, refusing eye contact. “He’d do it to everyone else, but not to me.” 

“Wait, what?”

Maybe choosing to say that of all things was a mistake. After all, you did appear stumbling down the street near death already. Jungwon isn’t going to take what you’re saying lightly and you were stupid to believe otherwise.

“Have you ever smelled cinnamon?” You continue, trying to skew the conversation from his panic.

Jungwon is flipping his shit trying to make sense of your words. You wanted this guy to kill you? Well, he damn near fucking did and even now, while he’s not around, you’re practically dead already in terms of everything but breathing. And what the fuck do you mean he’d do it to everyone else?! 

Are you referring to an emotional death? Trying to make this shit sound poetic? Or did you really want to die? 

“What the fuck are you talking about?” Jungwon’s voice is stern but shaky. “Kill you how?” 

You shake your head.

“I don’t know.” You offer, knowing you’re just making it worse. “I wanted him to want me that badly.”

Jungwon drops his arms from you to pull back, dead-pan staring at you because he doesn’t know what to do or say to that. He forces himself to think of the reality of the situation. You’re just being poetic. You’re just being dramatic. 

He’s the same way when someone hurts him too, but still. Using such heavy words scares him, and he can’t just sit here and tell you it’ll be okay anymore. 

“But he doesn't.” Jungwon musters up the courage to say it, knowing you’re going to cry. “This weirdo literally tried to eat you alive, and he still doesn’t want you.” 

And you do cry again. 

“And now, you’re letting him kill you anyway?” Jungwon scoffs. “You’re begging me to stay here with you, just so I can watch you not even make an attempt to fucking get over it?” 

You know he’s telling you what you need to hear, doesn’t change the fact that you don’t want to hear it. The only thing you want to hear is Sunghoon and his lying words, telling you that Jungwon is full of shit. 

The worst part about it is that, it’s not even that you’re suicidal. You’re not. You like being alive. You’re just…you don’t know. You don’t fucking know why you wanted and still want Sunghoon to kill you.

Perhaps it’s because it would mean he needs you that much.

But he doesn’t need you, you’re not irresistible. 

And that hurts you. That man fucking slithered into your heart and made a nest there. You can’t get him out no matter how much you try. 

“He broke up with you. You were together for like, what? A few days?” Jungwon minimizes the situation unintentionally, panicking at the way a person he’s grown so close to has managed to be utterly fucking ripped apart by a singular man. “He broke up with you. That’s it. It’s time to stand up and move on, there’s better people out there that–”

“No.” You shake your head. “I broke up with him, I guess, if you can call it that.” 

Jungwon softens, tilting his head. Now he’s getting somewhere. 

“Why, then? Why did you break up with him when you didn’t want to?” Still, Jungwon is glad you chose to. Clearly you’re not as absent minded as you pretend to be. Seeing how littered your body was with pain, you knew you needed to leave, right? You weren’t really just going to let this guy wither you away, right?

“He was with someone else.” 

Jungwon shakes his head in pity. 

“What a scumbag. A total freak.” 

“But like, he needed to do it, I guess.” You try to explain without truly explaining. “I got mad and left because he was doing something he needed to do with someone that wasn’t me.” 

“He needed to cheat on you? Are you hearing yourself?” Jungwon questions, throwing his arms up. “He’s a nympho, babe, he probably manipulated the fuck out of you to make you think this way.”

And at that, you give up on talking about it. You feel too tired to continue. 

“I guess so.” You whisper out with a shrug, sniffling up the tears.

“He doesn’t deserve you. You can’t just…die for people.” Jungwon says, realizing that even he doesn’t follow his own advice. He’d probably die for you himself, but not because he craves it.

He’ll never understand why you wanted this man to “kill” you. In whatever way you meant, no one is worth owning that much of you. 

Jungwon hums though, knowing you’re tired now. He isn’t exactly being as soothing as he’d like to be right now but never has he seen a person act like this over a break up. Cheating hurts, of course, but you barely knew this guy. There’s no way there isn’t something else going on for you to say such insane fucking things. 

“You must’ve lost your damn mind to let someone do that to you.” Jungwon says against your hair, his soft voice not matching his words in the slightest. “I can’t believe you said that.”

“Me either.” You admit, feeling the insanity bubbling in your stomach and hating it. 

Still, the scent of cinnamon. 

“Do you smell it though?” You ask now, voice even weaker. 

Jungwon inhales deeply, releasing his breath with all of the frustration in his gut.

You feel it fan across your cheek warmly, minty, and you smile. 

“Cinnamon?” He asks, remembering your question from before. “Yeah, sometimes I can smell it.” 

You smile bigger now. 

・・・・・・・・・・・・・・

Another two weeks pass, only this time you are coming back to yourself. Which is strange, really. You were beginning to think you’d never feel like a person again after the first month passed. Then, within another few weeks you’re almost entirely back to yourself. 

You’re still a bit dissociated, which is likely due to the trauma of what you experienced and put yourself through but thankfully, the ticking-time spans you grew to hate forces itself now to be your new form of comfort. With each passing second, hour, day, and week, you’re slowly able to not forget, but accept and move on. 

Still, you know it’s going to fuck you up for years to come. You’ll always have the feeling of emptiness deep inside no matter how much the space shrinks. You have no choice now but to try and fill your life and time with things and people who matter to you. At least this way, you know that you matter too. 

And with this time spent away and healing, the scent has faded too. You can even go to work now without holding your breath or your eyes being forced to look at the source of the smell. In fact, you avoid taking even a glimpse of the looming cathedral. You don’t keep cinnamon in your apartment now either. You don’t take it with any of your beverages or food items, and you certainly shouldn’t be smelling it in the air anymore. 

Sometimes it’s still there though, turning your stomach in a way that’s both needy and sick. You still miss him and the feeling of ice, but you know better now. Why give up the ability to breathe without your throat burning? Why give up being a person that Jungwon actually wants to be around now? 

After all, you’ve started feeling so much better to the point that even he feels okay leaving you alone from time to time. Showers are back to being private, you can check your own mail, and a few times you were even able to go to work without him trying to force his way inside like his installation was still sitting on display. 

Which, it isn’t, by the way. Your boss had his name and face blacklisted, but still on most days he waltzed in like he owned the place. Every single time buckling the knees of your boss, every single time being allowed to stay. 

Thankfully, push came to shove and he landed himself a job there with you, his employment became official just today, actually. And as professional as the place was for you when you approached with your resume, it’s definitely not professional at all. They did pay Jungwon under the table several times just for doing shit you were supposed to be doing. 

The point is, even if Jungwon wasn’t able to make the effort to keep good on his word regarding moving into your apartment to stay beside you, he still likely would have pushed to at least work with you. 

Thankfully, he gets to do both those things. 

And despite the fact that he feels okay leaving you alone from time to time, there’s still an immense amount of anxiety about being away from you for too long. He knows that in time, it’ll pass and the two of you can live both near each other and apart, but for now? Might as well call him your husband because there’s no way in hell he’s gonna be doing his own thing without you. 

That leads to now. The same day Jungwon secured his employment, the same day you made it through without a single breakdown, the same night Jungwon needs to actually go back home to move his shit into this apartment with you.

“Come with me.” Jungwon comments, but you know it’s more of a demand. “You can meet my sister, just ignore if she makes jokes about us dating or something.”

You laugh. Genuinely, you laugh.

“Jokes? We both know you’re in love with me Jungwon. I’m just waiting for the ring at this point.” 

He laughs with a shrug, knowing he probably would marry you at this point, if just to protect you from all the people who wouldn’t care for you as much as he does. 

“Really though, come with me?” He asks again. “I’m still a little worried about leaving you here.”

“You’ll be back in the morning,” You start, trying to calm him down. You genuinely do feel okay right now. “I’ll just be sleeping the whole time, I'm tired anyway.”

Jungwon nods fondly, aware that it’s only practical that he make the move during the night hours. After all, his sister won’t be home otherwise and he does miss her. It’s true that you’ll probably just go to bed and he’ll be back before you even wake up tomorrow.

Still.

“You could just sleep in my old ro–”

“Wonnie.” You walk up to him and grab his face with both hands. “I’m fine.” 

He smiles at you, always loving the way you do your best to reassure him even through your worst breakdowns. You’re not breaking down right now though, and he can’t help but believe every word you say when you’re looking at him like this. 

“I swear to god if I come home and you so much as have a single bite mark on you, I’m burning this fucking city to the ground.” 

You roll your eyes, the memory stinging only a little bit. By now though, you’ve almost entirely forgotten how it felt in the first place. 

In fact, you’re shocked by the way you acted after leaving. So outside of yourself. Truly, you think you were going insane and Jungwon was right to confirm that for you. You’re lucky you had him here with you, because you likely would have ran right back into that fucking cathedral and–

Yeah. You would have done something dramatic. 

You didn’t though. And sure, you now know vampires exist or whatever but Sunghoon has not bothered you even once since you left. You hope he’s simply moved on so that your resolve doesn’t break. Jungwon worked so hard to make you feel better, and you worked just as hard. You can’t just feel bad that you don’t remember what Sunghoon’s fangs felt like against your skin.

If anything, you hope Sunghoon is freaked out by you leaving and knowing his secret. Maybe he thinks that if he tries to approach you again, you’ll tell everyone about what he is and what he did. Not that it would end with him in jail or anything. You’d probably end up in an asylum, actually, but still. 

And to Jungwon’s threats of arson, you simply pinch his cheek, being sure to sit your thumb right in his dimple. 

“Strictly no vampire kinks.” You smile at him, crossing both of your arms in front of yourself to create an X. 

“Good.” Jungwon nods back as he puts on his shoes and heads for the door. “Call me if you need anything, I’ll keep my volume turned up. You’ve got Jay’s number too, he can be here quickly if it’s an emergency.”

He feels content knowing that you’re about to be stuck with him for as long as he can manage. It’s just one short trip back home. A mere six or seven hours spent away while he packs the shit his sister probably “forgot” to box up for him, loading up the rented van, and then unloading it here. 

It’s just a short trip. You’ll be sleeping through it anyway. 

And when he’s gone, you feel tired. Keeping good on your promise of going to bed almost immediately. The feeling of being alone for the night is a bit uncomfortable, so sleep comes easy as a means to escape the inevitable over-thinking you’d probably do otherwise. 

No overthinking. 

It’s just a short trip. 

Jungwon will be back before you wake up. 

・・・・・・・・・・・・・・

Ah, to think it’s over. 

To think he’d leave you be? To think he wouldn’t be looming around every corner watching, waiting? If it weren’t for Jungwon, these weeks wouldn’t have passed so easily for you, that much is certain.

As if they were easy for you to get through at all. Jungwon, the very person who got you through it, was the reason he stayed away, the reason you were able to heal. 

Jungwon was the ward.

Was. 

Deep in your sleep it’s like your body knows. The same scent fills your nose just seconds after your sleep brain feels the goosebumps spread across your skin. Instantly, you wake up and back to insanity you go

You truly wake up. 

Your legs aren’t being carried by any force other than you own, and your mind is crisp and clear in your thoughts as you jump out of bed. 

Not walking, running to your apartment door. You swing open the door and don’t even look at him before slamming your entire weight against his chest and clinging like a lost child. You can feel the familiar cold fear filling your body, knowing that if he truly wanted to, he could kill you right now. 

All of the progress you made burns away within seconds. You’ve never felt so elated to ruin your own life.��

Even when he pushes you away, nothing at this moment could make you let him go. He’s here, he’s standing right there. Your fingers grip as he pushes you back in silence, stretching his garment out far beyond the bounds of which it was sewn to withstand. It rips, and still he shoves you further back from him all while stalking forward. 

Walking you back into your apartment, just to let the door slam behind him as he stands with a narrowed gaze fixated on you. 

You glance up at him only for a moment, loving the crazed look in his eye. Adoring that he must have missed you to appear so full of life like this. You can only compare his eyes now to the same eyes you saw when you ran away from him. 

As if they were burning on you. Or perhaps, for you? 

He’s dangerous, your body feels it instantly and all you can do is lean into it.

“That’s all it took for you to leave me?” Sunghoon bellows out in a spiteful voice, the sound sending pleasant shivers down your spine. “Had your blood boiling over some minx? I told you I didn’t want you witnessing it.” 

You soak in his voice like it’s your last supper, missing it so badly, adoring it even more. He speaks as if weeks haven’t passed, as if it’s a mere hour after you ran from him. You move forward to cling again, unable to think of words to say and opting to show how much you regret leaving through your actions.

Still, he pushes you away from him. A bit harder this time, to the point you almost topple over onto your back. You keep your balance only because it feels like you’re fucking floating just looking at him right now.

“I tried to pull you back to me, why did you fight it so hard?” He continues to fuss, as if he’s been thinking over and over again about all the words he wants to spit at you. Like he’s punishing you, and yet still struggling himself not to cling back. “Never has your aroma been so empty, so faint.”

You’re in shock but your body yearns for him, thankful to go back to square one. Like you’re special. Like you meant something enough to him that he’s here looking like he may give you what you’ve wanted all along. 

“Countless women. Countless men. Never you, and now you manage to hide from me?” His hand shoots to your neck, pushing you back further into your apartment. “How?” He grips dangerously tight as he continues to spew his breathless words. “You masked yourself with that– that floral boy, didn’t you?” 

You listen to his spiteful words like your favorite song, falling into each vibration of his vowels and consonants. Never has he spoken so much, and never have you heard his voice waver the way it is now. You can’t help but follow his movements with a smile on your face, swallowing through this tight grip on your throat. 

“You cannot fathom how hard it was to stop. Do you understand how much I want to fuck every last drop out of you? You should be thanking me.”

Oh, you’re so proud. So, so, fucking proud. The glee runs through you at his needy words, even if you know better. He’ll always feed on people who aren’t you, and he’ll always probably fuck them too. 

But does he show up at their house? Does he grow frustrated with them like this too? 

“Did you kill her when you were done?” You ask out through his choking hand, so confident that it makes him freeze on the spot.

He’s genuinely shocked that you’re not scared. You’re not intimidated. You don’t feel bad. No, you feel proud of being hunted. Like you take enjoyment out of his suffering, much like he does for you. 

On his part, it’s not intentional. You have to suffer to be next to him. 

Never has a person made him suffer too though. Fucking never would he have allowed it. God, he’s infatuated with you, utterly obsessed.

“Of course I killed her.” Sunghoon admits with his brow rising up, feeding into your ecstatic reaction of his death grip on you, only gripping tighter now. “Does that please you?” 

You’ve never been happier. 

And he moans out at the way you shyly nod, seemingly experiencing euphoria at his admittance of murder. Oh, if only you knew how good you smelled that night. Blood pumping for him, blood boiling in emotion for him. The woman didn’t last more than a minute after you left him. He couldn’t resist at that point. 

Seeing you, smelling you, fucking someone who he wished could have been you. 

He’s not prepared at all for this, for you. So willing, wanting what he’s trying to avoid doing to you.

That’s why he’s here though. Unprepared, but unable to resist any longer. He has pulled and pulled, every single day trying to lure you back to him against your will. He thought he was going to have to take you tonight against your wishes. 

But your eyes are sparkling for him. 

“No one’s heart has ever beat quite like yours when looking at me.” Sunghoon whispers now, falling and spiraling into this moment with you, losing his composure entirely. “So loud, each pump fucking gushes.”

“And I'll chase it every time.” He continues to ramble in a way that sounds like he’s in physical pain, like the amount of time you’ve stayed away from him genuinely hurts him. 

You still can’t respond though, your words are caught up in your throat right where his hand squeezes and you couldn’t even if you wanted to. He knows it too, and he didn’t intend to let you answer anyway because genuinely, he’s fucking losing himself. 

His hungry lips chase forward near instant after saying those words to you, not biting, just kissing. Tasting you rather than the blood that drives him. 

Because for some reason, that’s what he craves right now. 

“I beg.” He cries out against your tongue, relishing in the feeling of your life clutched in his hands, not even sure himself of what he’s begging for.

“Sunghoon,” You choke out his name with a gentle voice, pulling back from his bruising lips and throwing your arms up around his shoulders. “I bet you could smell my heart shatter too.” 

He moans at the strained words first and the out of body experience you lend to him second. His soul is always trapped within this dead skin, but you ascend him. 

Here, standing with his hands on your throat, you hold him? You say sly, mocking words? Oh, he can give you the world. He can give you anything you want. He can be whatever you want. Never has a person had this hold on him, and never could another person be able to do what you do. 

He can’t just let you go. He tried already. He’s supposed to be the one with the ability to hunt, lure, and pull. How is it that you do it to him? Your blood alone does it. The fact that all you need to do is exist within the same city and he’s ripping his bedroom walls apart wanting to get at you? He needs you. 

No. You’re not going anywhere this time. He’ll give up the taste of your sweet blood if he has to. The taste of your wet tongue is enough to satiate him by this point. The feeling of your neck beneath his hands, your pretty eyes urging him to strangle the life out of you.

He’d do it too. All you’d have to do is ask. He would do anything for you at this moment, no matter the cost. He will take anything you offer.

“Oh–” He groans first, licking his lips. “I could almost taste it.” His eyes darken more, somehow, as he leads you through the apartment. All the way until that same gaze causes your legs to buckle. He can’t help it by this point, after all, he knew coming here would end up this way.

There’s no self control when his hands release your neck, your buckled legs forcing you to fall against the floor, and he gladly topples with you. His hands immediately shoot to either side of your head, holding himself up just so he can dip down and inhale you. 

Fuck, he missed the way your skin smells more than he remembers. And trust, missing you was a daunting experience for him before he got here.

He inhales all over you, again and again. He trails his nose against both sides of your neck, up your cheek, into your hair, down to your neck again.

“So delicious.” He moans mindlessly. “Never have I missed someone so terribly.” 

“You were with someone else.” You continue your confident scolding with a scoff, only because of the way he’s losing himself on you. This is all you could ever want and reminding him of why you left feels elating. 

“My love,” He starts, speaking right up against your ear as one of his hands trails from your cheek to your waist. “My loyalty to your life is what I offered.”

Goddamn the confidence running through you smells stronger than anything he’s ever experienced. As if you didn’t already drive him to do things he never once considered. Oh, now? With you like this? He would die ten times more for you and you alone, if he could, anyway. 

“Do you not recognize that I would have drained you to death, if I didn’t want you here with me?” 

He lifts his head now, looking at you with so much adoration. 

“You’re not a simple meal, when will you understand that?”

And when you snicker at his desperate praise, he cannot fucking control the feelings within him.

“Your little floral friend is going to be devastated,” He admits with a rumbled voice, alluding to the inevitability of him coming here tonight. “You’ve begged me for this, and now I’m begging you.” 

You pause, feeling the butterflies in your stomach release in a deep breath. 

“Die for me.” Sunghoon whispers, dragging that same wandering hand straight between your legs and dipping into the wet heat he’s been missing so badly. No blood, just thick, hot, wet slick. “I beg.” 

You can barely comprehend his words through that ice cold feeling of his fingers pressing into you. He hums in the silence, looking straight into your eyes with the question. He’s very aware of the weight behind it too. 

“My love, please.” He continues, losing composure by the seconds as he feels how warm your wet walls are hugging his fingers. “Not in a thousand years have I wanted someone more than you.”

He continues pressing his fingers in, moaning himself at how good it feels, only to feel your moan fan against his cheeks in turn. It’s something that drives him only further from the self-control he fought so hard to keep. That warm breath represents the life within you that he intends to snuff out. If at all, to keep  you forever. 

“And not for a thousand years more–” He’s starting to babble, his once clear thoughts racing at being surrounded by everything that is you. “Please.” 

And his fingers only quicken with his thoughts, rendering you unable to answer even if you tried. The idea and confirmation in his head of not truly killing you drives him wild. It would be death, nonetheless, but not true death. For weeks he has suffered over the thoughts, always telling himself that he would never fate someone to a death such as his own. 

But you, oh you. The sublime blood within you pulled him harder than he believes he pulled you. Never in his thousands of years has he experienced such a thing, nor did he know such blood existed within a person. It drives him to feel for you. To adore you. To be entirely enamored with the fact that you have shattered him from within at both the thought of losing your blood, but wanting to take all of it. 

Still, he craves the taste of you to such an extent that you truly will die tonight, whether it’s against your will or not. It’s too late for him to reason with himself, feeling your walls wrapped around his fingers, seeing you act so mischievous towards his antics from before. At this point, just a blink of time compared to how long he’s lived, the decision is clearer than anything he thinks he’s ever had to choose. 

If he can’t have all of your blood, you’ll waste it on a death not nearly as beautiful as he can offer. 

If he can have all of your blood, perhaps he doesn’t have to lose you along with it. After all, it’s not just the blood at this point that makes him feel like a blood-drunk beast. No, no, no. It’s everything that is you. Your skin, the secretions of your body, the way your hands grip and the way your eyes blink. Blood-drunk, yes, but more so just drunk on you.

He can settle without the breath and without the blood if you’re willing to share meals with him for the remainder of time this earth has in the universe. 

Sunghoon’s mind is racing at the thought. Working too fast for him to focus on everything at once, but he tries. Tucking his fingers deep, nuzzling his nose into the crook of your neck and inhaling as deeply as he can. 

You’re feeling like you’re on top of the world in the way he falls apart on you, unable to comprehend that this is actually happening. Every word he’s said to you rings in your ears as if it were spoken in a language you can’t understand. With his fingers working you open, with his lips on your skin rather than his fangs…

You feel…different. Like he feels differently. 

And you can’t stop yourself from basking in the thought that he killed that woman. What was once jealousy that he didn’t want you enough to kill you has twisted and morphed into the thought that he kept you alive because he couldn’t stand not having you.

Every whispered word confirms it, and still you can’t comprehend fully what it is he’s trying to say. 

So, you focus and try to comprehend the feeling in your body that he’s offering instead. You have yearned for this cold within you. Missed it so badly you went insane. 

To think you’d ever truly get over him is arguably more insane than wanting him to kill you at all.

“Did you hear me?” He whispers against your ear, shoulders shifting with each plunge of his fingers, other hand clinging to your waist so tightly, almost pulling you to him. “You could be beside me,” He moves his lips across your neck, resting his lips against the moan you let out. “Forever.”

Oh, it clicks. 

And just as it clicks, he can hear your heart rate gushing the same blood he intends to take from you in full. Gushing, rushing through each vein and valve within you. Oh, he could truly devour you whole with how you’ve deprived him of this. He could leave not a trace of you left for the world to remember, but no. That would be worse than the beheadings that haunt his nightly visions. 

The sound of it rushing through you, god, it makes him feel like a mad man. He can’t help but prevent your timid answers in the midst of red hot desire. He pulls his hand out of you, spreading his palm against your healed thighs instead and spreads your legs out wide from under him. 

He’s quick to move down. No kissing, no biting, nothing like what he wants to do. He needs to satiate his desire somehow, and he doesn’t want to waste a single drop of your blood until the time comes. 

And when he pulls your sleep-shorts and panties off of you, he’s immediately licking a languid stripe up your glistening cunt. He remembers how it looked in red, the thought sending his body into overdrive at the taste of you now compared to that night. 

Still so sweet. Almost as good as the blood. Ah, it serves as a reminder that perhaps he can give up the blood after taking it from you. This alone is enough. So creamy, so slippery. 

Yes, yes. A confirmation. It’s you, not just your blood. It’s you he won’t live without. Your mind, your voice, the wet you spill, the cum you’ll let him fuck out of you. 

It’s always you. 

And he hums into it, licking into you as far as his tongue can manage. He braces both hands on your thighs just to spread them further, skewing his head to reach deeper, deeper, fucking deeper. Tasting you, smelling you, utterly obsessed with you. 

All you can do is shoot your hands down, forever waiting to feel his teeth sink into you but only feeling pleasure. So much pleasure. All of his freezing body parts just send consistent shivers up and down your spine. It’s like you can feel him under your skin when he does this, even with his hair tangled in your fingers as if you’re appreciating him for all of it. 

It’s so good. With the way he doesn’t need to breathe. He keeps his tongue in you, and even still you feel as if you don’t need your clit stimulated at all with the way he’s working his mouth so aggressively. And it’s good with the way his fingernails dig into your skin not yet enough to cause blood, unlike before. Good with the way he hums into you through it all, the same way he did when he’d feed on you.

Ah, it’s just, it’s good. It’s dreamy. All of it feels like a fantasy up until he does pull back. 

You look down in time with him looking up, those pretty eyes no longer looming and dark. Still crazed to an extent but you know they’re for you. 

“Sunghoon,” You whisper out, watching him closely with the way his eyes roll back at even hearing his name on your tongue so prettily. “Why aren’t you feeding?” 

You feel his fingernails leave more half moon shapes in your skin at the question. His eyes open in a half-lidded stare at you now, lips falling slack.

He looks so pretty, with the wet coating of his plush and pretty lips, your hands still tangled in his hair. 

He still just looks at you. He doesn’t breathe, doesn’t blink, and doesn’t answer. 

“You’re so quiet now.” You comment, feeling shy with the way he stares at you rather than your open pussy right in front of his mouth. “Say something.”

And within a single blink, his face is right up against yours, one hand still keeping your leg spread open, the other pinching your chin as he continues to stare.

“Let me have you.” 

You hear his words clearly this time, breath caught in your throat up until he kisses it out of you. He breathes you in deeply, trying to drown himself in all that is your life before what he will inevitably do. 

“Let me.” He pleads again, his eyebrows falling as if he’s in genuine pain to say it. 

Your arms reach around his neck, staring at him with so much confirmation in your eyes. You’d let him have anything he wants. Anything. 

And he groans at you, releasing your chin just to reach down to get his length out, appearing as though looking at you like this alone is enough to make him crumble to dust. He’s been aching this whole time too, since before he even left the cathedral. Borderline edging himself from both the pleasure of your body wrapped around him and the pleasure within you that would satiate his hunger just for a moment. 

He misses the feeling of you so badly. The warmth, the slide, the way you cling to him like nothing he could do would scare you. 

Just….one last time, he wants to feel warm. 

And he chases for the heat inside of you, sliding in without breaking eye contact, without waiting, without savoring it. 

It knocks the breath out of you again, forgetting just how cold it is when he settles in deep. So fucking deep. 

You wince in pain before moaning out to him, whispering his name in a drawn out sigh.

“Ah, my love,” He groans at your reaction, his hips immediately moving. “My pretty, pretty, love.”  Your walls hug him so perfectly, taking every inch with just a tiny wince.  “Will you still sound so lovely?”

You don’t understand the question, but you nod to him, wanting nothing more in this moment than to prove your worth to him. To please him. 

Such an insane woman, he thinks. Letting him take you and have you in whatever way he wishes. Whether living or dead, he truly believes every mindless nod you give to him. It’s clear, you’re just as deeply infatuated with him as he is with you.

Both of you would give and take happily, no matter what it is. 

And fuck he can feel your living pulse against him with each fast and torturous thrust, snapping his hips so quickly into you. He can’t help but fuck hard and with purpose. Slamming in and out with echoed slaps and mindless groans. 

Everything that you are could end him in an instant and all you can do is moan out for more. 

Oh, he gives it. Of course he does. He will give you anything. Everything. 

And it only becomes harder to resist when he kisses against your lips again, swallowing each moan of his name, exhaling it back out to you with the sound of your name. A mantra of two people, facing only death together and loving every heart-wrenching second of it. 

The cold within you flourishes with each sound in his throat, you squeeze around him, your legs hug against him, your arms wrap tightly against his neck as he kisses you. Your body can’t withstand the speed of his cock slamming into you for much longer without coming undone.

And he doesn’t stop, seemingly never growing tired. Up until he feels your body clench entirely around him, he clings back at you at the feeling, whispering handsome words and proud promises. 

“Already?” He grunted out first, hearing your blood rush and your muscles tense. “Ah, can hear it rushing through you, let it go, love.” 

And you do, you let it go despite wanting it to last longer. So, so much longer. 

He lends you a choked and inward groan at the way you react to his relentless thrusts, flexing his abs and pointing his cock as deeply into you as he can reach. And for the second time, Sunghoon feels the warmth of you spill over him. Prettier than the blood, your voice so, so, sexy choking out a string of curses just for his ears to adore.

“There you go.” He coos through it with his own groans, savoring every squeeze and squelch, adoring the sounds you make for him. 

And as he watches, he can’t help the feeling inside of him. Your heart is beating so fast through the pleasure only he can offer you, and he keeps doing it. Fucking you through the orgasm only to not stop after the fact either. 

It’ll be the last time he’ll ever feel heat like this on him. He can fuck any and every victim, but none will feel as good as you. Partially because you aren’t being manipulated, he has no hold on your mind right now. You’re not gripping and moaning because you’re in a daze, you’re doing it because you fucking want it.

God, having sex for the sake of sex is something he hasn’t done in a long time before you. Enjoying in the pleasure, fucking suffering through all of it. Truly, for him, if this is the last time your body will be warm, he’s going to take his goddamn time making sure you’re well aware of just how good you could have it if you let him keep you forever. Cold and dead, he’ll still love the feeling of your body.

So much that still, even with your orgasm dripping all over him, he pushes and he pushes. Thinking only of how he plans to drain you in more ways than once tonight. He can hold off for as long as he can with his own pleasure, because this alone is fucking bliss.

And he doesn’t care if he’s knocking the breath out of you, only because he knows that soon enough, you’ll never have to worry about breathing again.

・・・・・・・・・・・・・・

You’re unsure as to how long Sunghoon has been lying with you like this, but you were able to get a bit of rest against him. Even with your fingers feeling like ice wrapped up in his, you feel safe and at home here. 

Not because you are at home, but because he’s here with you. 

The night outside your window tells you that you’ve not been sleeping for long, but you can barely recall coming to your bedroom at all with him. He must have carried you here and cuddled himself up against you. 

You stir in his grasp, peeking an eye up at him. 

“You’ve rested enough?” Sunghoon smiles at you with saddened eyes, his pupils still blown and hair an absolute mess.  

You shift against him, turning to face him entirely. 

As he looks at you, all he can do is remind himself that he’s never considered fating someone with this curse until finding you. With your pretty jealous words and your intense need to have him take you out of this world all together. Never has he given the chance for another person to know him so deeply and have them react with only fondness and desire. 

This is his chance, isn’t it? To find forever? 

As monstrous as he is, he does still have desire. The feeling of loneliness isn’t meant to be grown accustomed to. For him at least. All of his fellow vampires have companions, and he swore he’d never do that to another person. 

Perhaps it’s because many of the vampires he has mingled with took their companions by force. He could see the disdain in their eyes, and that’s not something he thinks he could live with. But you don’t look at him like that. You slept soundly next to a man wanting to kill you. Actively struggling not to do it with each and every breath you take. 

And oh, since the start of his curse, the need to taste that last famed drop lured him to every meal he’s feasted on up until now. Such a delicious flavor, truly the best sensation running down his throat. To have you offer that last little sip to him? Ah, fuck.

 The feeling in his stomach flutters at the thought of turning someone for the first time. Knowing that someone will be you. Knowing that you wouldn’t be a companion filled with resentment and agony at your new life. 

It’s electrifying. Like his heart could beat again at any second because you truly make him feel like he’s never experienced death at all. Despite being surrounded by it, despite experiencing it himself, despite taking lives daily for thousands of years. 

It’s amazing to him, to love someone so much he’s willing to fate them with eternal thirst, congealed blood, glitter and gold, beautiful and ugly, accidental lures before intentional ones. 

Death.

Vile, cold, damp skin. Safe light of the moon, dust in the sun. The only threat is that of life itself.

Light. Sharp pointed dogwood stakes. Beheadings. 

But…a companion.

The life he could live with you, oh the joy that runs through him is far too beautiful. The forever life. Eternity. Living through it all, far surpassing the roaches and bacteria of this earth. With you. 

So many things you’ve forced him to understand. Loneliness, despair, want, need, envy. It’s been so long since he’s entertained petty mortal feelings, but you forced them into him and out of him. The only need he’s grown accustomed to was hunger and thirst. Never love, or warmth, or want. 

Oh, forever. The two of you could starve after draining every living soul. All it takes is for him to take that last gush of blood from you. 

Without the lure. Without the manipulation. 

Never would he perform the rite without your pleasant voice telling him to. Never would he want to spend eternity with a woman so luring who would want nothing more than to be the blade slicing through the bone in his neck. 

That legendary, utterly delicious, last drop of blood that he’s tasted so many times before. It’s different this time only because the blood isn’t for him and him alone now. He has to share it, and it pains him to know that none would taste quite like yours. 

The hardest part would be controlling his instinct of swallowing it instantly, rendering you dead and unmoving for the eternity he wishes to have you. 

A new feeling. 

Anxiety. 

Your death would be slow, a cold and dreary one, but it wouldn’t be lonely. He’d make sure you feel so good through it. He wouldn’t spill a drop. You’d be clean, avoiding a gruesome death otherwise. 

And time would be against him, because upon taking that last drop, he’d barely be able to savor it before continuing the rite. A final sip that he can’t even swallow. A final sip that must be fed to you. Blood leaving your veins only to slide down into your emptied stomach through dead lips.

There, a final exhale, and then forever inhales. 

You’d look so beautiful dying next to him. He’d hold you through it. 

Is fate so dreary in a moment like that? Where is he feeling something akin to love for the first time in lifetime after lifetime? Is he selfish to need you so badly? 

“You could have it all.” He inhales the words at your drowsy face nearing sleep again. The silence you lended after his last comment kept him in his head, and now he wants out of it. 

He hugs against you so tightly, trying to keep you awake despite knowing he likely fucked you too long and too hard.  Still, he wants to encourage a life with him for you. 

“I can give it all to you.”

You’re silent at his words as you listen to him. You soak them into your sleepy head and smile.

“Sunghoo-”

“I beg of you.” He answers for you, grabbing your face tightly and landing an immediate kiss against your lips. A deep kiss, one that…oh. He’s crying. 

You feel the cold wet hit your cheeks as he kisses. He does it before you can even move your own lips against him, but you do start to kiss him back. Your brows furrow in concern at this new emotion he’s showing to you, but your handles are gentle when you caress his cheeks through it. 

“Die for me.” He whispers through the kiss, trying not to let you pull back at the words. He knows now that you heard them loud and clear.

Oh.

Why is there nothing in this world that you want more?

“It’ll only hurt for a little while.” He tries to make it sound pretty with his soothing whispers, not yet realizing that he hasn’t cried in several centuries. “You’ll come back.”

“Are you asking me to–?” You breathe out for him, once, twice, and then never finish what you were trying to ask simply because he makes himself very clear.

“You can be like me, my love.” 

Your body pulses in fear, but the adrenaline hits you in all the right spots as you break eye contact to cling instead, this time shoving your nose up and against his neck. Wanting nothing more than this dead skin, needing nothing more than a man who wants to kill you. 

But Sunghoon doesn’t want to end you, no. He wants to keep you forever. 

And forever is different with Sunghoon. It’s never ending. 

Are you even prepared to never see an end? With the man whispering so sweetly to you? Absolutely. 

Would a split second decision like this ruin your life forever? What's forever anyway? When you have many lives to ruin and many more to deem a success if you choose to go with him. 

Die. Only to live forever? 

You nod once, then you shake your head. His arms wrap around you tightly at your indecisiveness. He’s content enough just knowing you’re considering it and truly, he’s trying to be patient. Waiting and well aware that the question is likely the hardest decision you’ll ever need to make. 

“I’ll beg again and again.” He whispers, feeling your panicked lips try to calm your breathing against his neck. Still, you’re clinging to him tightly and it makes him feel…happy. “I cannot fathom a death for you that’s not this. Forever gone from me.” 

You shake your head again, but then…you nod. 

“Will it hurt?” You ask, feeling your heart rate threaten to kill you before Sunghoon even gets the chance himself. 

“Tremendously.” He chuckles at the ignorance, though even he barely remembers the pain himself these days.

 “Only for a little while, darling. I told you.” He licks his lips, anticipating the blood running through you to run through him soon. The hunger is almost overcoming him now and if you don’t agree, he very well may end up killing you regardless.

And the thought pains him. 

If there was ever a time to hold himself back, it’s now.

“Don’t die without me here with you. Now or ever.” He continues in a sweet voice, trying to control the wavering breaks his throat is trying to force out of him. 

“Can I…” You stop yourself, squeezing your eyes shut. “Can I have a minute to think?” 

“Oh course,” He smiles to hide his frustration, pulling you back by your shoulders and sitting himself up against your bed. “But, the sun rises in three hours, and that’s three hours of fighting my urge to do it without your confirmation.”

You pause, finding comfort in the fact that he’s willing to suffer through your inevitable acceptance. There’s no way you’ll end up saying no to him, only because of how badly it hurt when you walked away from him. It rotted within you for weeks, and even when you thought you were better…all he had to do was stand outside your door to have you running to be in his arms.

What’s a bad decision when you could have lifetimes to make up for it? Even if said decision is what gives you those lifetimes. He’s asking for you to stay with him. To be with him. Isn’t that what you want?

But to die…

And you only cling to him through the fear, hoping he can save you from what he’s offering. He’s the comfort and the ultimate end. 

Or, perhaps, the ultimate beginning.

You’re not sure. You only found out vampires are real like two months ago. It’s not exactly something you can comprehend so quickly, but it is something you know you want more than anything if it means you can be next to Sunghoon. 

“Will it ease your fear if I talk about what it’s like to be me?” Sunghoon offers both a reason to give you insight, as well as distract his own mind during this moment of distress.

You nod immediately, hugging yourself so tightly to his side and trying to keep your nose up and against him simply because that brings you the most comfort. Smelling the faint cinnamon, feeling him against you. 

“I’m the first of my family to reside here, but I’ve been here for thirty years. Commoners aren’t aware as I try to remain hidden save for when I need to hunt.” He starts, continuing after hearing the way your heart calms. “But, city officials know very well who I am, and where I come from.” 

You listen, trying to take in his words as truth rather than fantasy. 

“I was born in seventeen thirty eight, overseas. Every few hundred years I’ll relocate simply because it becomes boring watching the same country grow and be destroyed. I ran from many wars, have lived many lives.” 

Oh. Okay.

“I know every language. I’ve lived every life you can imagine, worked every job you can think of to rid myself of boredom.” 

“So you weren’t always pretending to be a priest?” You try to make light of the fear within you, almost, somehow, wanting to snort at his choice of current lifestyle. 

“Ah, no.” He chuckles for you, rolling his eyes at how you mock him in the face of your own death. “I was a banker before this, I despised it. Only lasted about seven years before relocating here.”

A pause, you hear him chuckle. 

“I really despise numbers.”

In the calmness of his voice, within his gentle grasp, you feel comfortable. 

“Did you come for the cathedral?” 

He nods, holding you against him even tighter.

“History is protected, whether it be land, buildings, or people. It felt fitting to be a priest if I was to stumble inside parading as a drunken man needing a place to stay.” 

“How did you become, uh, what did she call you? Master?”

“Ah,” Another scoffed chuckle at your ignorance. “Did you believe them to be alive?” 

You freeze, body stiffening at the shock. They were fucking dead?! This whole time?!

“I slept in a cathedral full of fucking vampires?!” 

“You did.” He smiles. “But they are very well aware of what’s mine.”

He loves the way your face looks when you process words. He is more aware than you think of how insane all of this must sound to you. Yet, still, he has never truly lied to you. 

“They needed an order, so I brought that order. Thus, Master.” He smiles as he motions towards himself with you still in his grasp, as if he’s playfully boasting his own intelligence over the vampire-nuns. 

You pull back to look at him, feeling a bit calmer now in the way he describes countless lives and knowledge. You can’t experience any of that with the life you have right now. In fifty to sixty years you’ll be in an urn on your mother’s fireplace. 

Why would you want that when you could be in a bed with silk sheets? Or perhaps by then you’ll be able to travel elsewhere with Sunghoon, finding new beds with even softer sheets.

And only now do you realize that Sunghoon didn’t put you in danger at all. In fact, he knew he was dangerous and forced you to live. Even when you asked him to kill you. He…

Oh. Wow.

“Now, what is it, you think, that made you so special in regards to that woman you found me with? What is it, love? What do you believe kept me from ending your life to sustain my own?” And goddamn does it feel good to finally say it. Sunghoon loves the feeling of the words coming out of his mouth, finally spilling it all to you and seeing you only react with cheeky curiosity. 

“Why is that? Can you tell me?”

You’re silent as you think of his questions, unable to answer at all.  

“No…” You breathe out, knowing he can feel the hot breath against him only because his hand squeezes your waist. 

“I suppose after how long I’ve wandered this earth, even I am left with curiosities and questions too.” He smiles when he says it, thankful to know he hasn’t yet experienced everything there is. “I’d like to know why you have this hold on me too, darling.”

“Maybe it’s because I want it?” 

“Perhaps, yes. If you didn’t I likely would have savored every ounce of you already and for that, I should be thankful.” 

He shifts now, pressing you down against your bed and hovering over you with dark and sparkling eyes. His lips immediately go to your neck with the hunger he feels. Talking isn’t enough anymore. Holding you isn’t enough. He hasn’t eaten in days, and the fact that he could hold off even until now is strange to him. 

“Unlike many, you do not seek death–” He drags his lips against your skin, relishing in it. “You exist alongside it happily, you welcome it.” He continues to talk, his teeth now retracting against your skin and leaving little swollen scratches with each drag. “Perhaps had I not chosen to be a priest during this lifetime, you’d have already said yes.” 

“A singer? A dancer? Anything you wish for, I’ll become.” He smiles when he feels the goosebumps plump up under his teeth, and it’s so, so, hard not to bite. “So, won’t you stay? “

He listens so closely to your heart and breathing, nearly moaning at the need for it. 

“Watching you wither to death by anything other than my own teeth would surely have me seekinga dogwood.” 

Ah, so the fantasy movies and novels aren’t all wrong? So strange, truly, that he lives in a cathedral of crosses made from the very wood that could kill him. 

“We could be anything, go anywhere, dine on meals you merely taste but never need.”

He nods his head against your skin, hoping you’ll nod along with him, knowing that you will. 

“You could be mine, forever.” 

You’ve accepted him already, you just haven’t said so yet. He doesn’t mind sweet talking you though, reminding you of everything he can and will provide.

And to you, every single word he mutters is pretty, and everything you could ever need or want is right here. 

“I could be yours, forever.”

“I think–” You breathe out, hands now reaching up to scratch through his hair. “there is nothing I could want more than this.”

And the moment he gets that final word of confirmation out to you, he bites. The words you mutter drive him to it. He couldn’t even kiss you in appreciation simply because his instinct takes over. He lets go. 

Finally, he can let go. 

The need to control himself is no longer here, and it feels astounding. 

The sting is deep and it rings within you so loudly that you could hear the puncture vibrate your brain. Your ears burn at the direct puncture, and already you can feel his hands bracing you through it. As if he knows he’s never bitten you so deep in your pulse point like this. 

But the intention behind it somehow feels better than anything you’ve ever experienced. This is what you were jealous of and now you can only agree with your past self. There was good reason to be jealous of feeling this from him. Except, unlike that woman, he’s holding you through it. He’s grunting against your neck and swallowing large portions of your blood as the seconds pass. Losing himself with you. Almost as if he’s dying with you.

And he drinks, and drinks, and drinks, to the point your toes are feeling the sleep overtake them, then your legs, all the way up and down your body until your fingers are too weak to keep gripping against the locks of hair on the back of his neck.

You feel his fingers soothe you through the weakness when he pulls back, keeping his promise of not wasting a single drop. There is no blood smeared on him, only a trace of it on his inner lips as he watches your weakened expressions. 

He isn’t intentionally draining you so quickly, but…fuck. The blood. That glorious scent and taste was already too much to bear, but now? Knowing he gets all of it save for the best and final sip? He genuinely can’t help it. Controlling himself now after how long he’s held back? 

Darling, you asked for this. 

And his body reacts in aroused euphoria. Already he feels an orgasm bubble up just witnessing you die for him. Even then, he barely feels the heightened pleasure because the mind, dead or not, simply cannot comprehend the pure potent pleasure he’s experiencing.

He spills out all over himself, while you spill out for him. Your life, your very being. 

How can he not be terribly, horrifyingly, utterly stupendously in love with you? 

“My love, the light in your eyes will come back soon.” He smiles as he watches what happens to you through this, and then throws his head back in manic pleasure with a deep and animalistic moan. Arguably, even his eyes hold more life than yours right now. 

So, so beautiful. 

You’re too weak to speak, but you shake your head. Nothing is a pain to lose, nothing except him. 

And you find comfort in the way he sinks his teeth right back into those puncture marks. Sucking more and more out of you with a content smile on his face. He doesn’t think he could ever feel happier, knowing you’re giving him everything, and he wants nothing more than to return the favor to you.

Oh, how he wishes it were you sucking the life out of his veins. You’d be so gentle, you’d look so pretty losing your mind like he is right now. 

You continue to feel your body grow numb, up to the point that your heart rate slows at the loss of blood. To the point you can tell he’s sucking harder and harder just to get more. You feel a weight shift inside of your body, it writhes and chokes every inch of your innards. 

Shrivelling, spiraling, cramping. 

If you could curl in on yourself right now, you would, but you’re too weak even for that. You can’t even twitch a finger against Sunghoon at this moment as you feel everything within you dehydrate and search for life. 

It hurts. 

Badly. So badly that at this moment, you can’t remember a single thing that has ever felt good. In fact, everything is painful. Life is painful and horrifyingly full of things that will hurt you. But–Sunghoon is here. That much, you still recognize. Even through the pain, and even through the twisting inside of you, he remains constant. He’s soothing you through it well past the comprehension of your dying brain. 

You can’t shiver at the loss of warmth, but you do try to take a breath. Working your weak body to near exhaustion just at the act of trying to expand your lungs. And oh, you can’t even open your eyes at the way the last breath doesn’t come. You must have lost it already. 

And then, darkness. 

Nothing. 

And it feels like this for an eternity. Nothing to see, nothing to feel, nothing to fear or love. 

Absolutely fucking nothing. And to think humanity has built governments off promised afterlifes? To think anything ever mattered in the first place? The emptiness soothes and relieves your still working soul, wisping in the darkness for eternities more it seems. 

To the point names and faces leave you, and all you can think, feel, or hear is that of unfilled space and pure, deafening, silence. You cannot feel content, or peace, or happiness here. You just feel nothing. And it truly feels good to be nothing. 

Until there's warmth. You feel it somewhere hugging you, or perhaps inside of you? Do you even have a body to hold warmth now within this vast void of darkness? Why do you hear…?

Feelings come back to you tenfold. Seemingly experiencing everything you’ve ever felt and lived through all at once. That deafening silence becomes louder, louder, louder, until– it flourishes in the pit of your belly.

So much chaos within you. Swirling and bubbling in such a way that it fucking blooms in this darkness. You feel like you’re burning, freezing, dying, living, fucking drowning all at once. 

That flourish forces the nothingness out of you. As comfortable as this place is, there is nothing and you want something. You need something. You crave…something.

A little dribble running down your throat leaving a trail of warm, blooming heat. As if you just swallowed a sun-ray itself. Only now can you feel your body again enough to know where the heat is coming from. It blossoms within you, increasing each sense within your body tenfold. 

It doesn’t hurt. 

Only now do you recognize that it’s silent again, as if you were slammed into a wall by the force of the god you now know does not exist. You feel yourself restrict under skin, you feel cold, you feel…heavy. 

And the silence is still too loud to be so restricted. You miss the sounds of what you must have unintentionally listened to every waking moment of your life. The only true soundtrack of a living, loving, and heat-radiating being. 

No heart-beat. No whirring of blood. No rumbling in your stomach. Nothing.

And yet still, it doesn’t hurt. 

Just a bouquet in the pits in your belly. Your precious life, all summed up in that single diluted sip of blood. 

And somehow, someway, you regain your strength faster than it took for you to lose it. You open your eyes on instinct and the world is glowing. Sunghoon is glowing. As lifeless as you are, and as empty as your brain is at this moment, you reach out to him immediately.

But he has yet to let go of you since all of this started. He stayed. He held you, just like he said he would. 

“Did it hurt badly?” Sunghoon calls out to you, helping your mind awaken again. 

He barely remembers the pain he went through when it happened to him. Truly, pain is so temporary, so meaningless to indulge but, the curiosity still sits with him. 

After watching you for upwards of two hours to both die and come back to life, he can’t help but wonder if it was anything like what he experienced. 

Even with that curiosity though, seeing you open your eyes for the first time in your new life fills Sunghoon with overwhelming glee. To the point he feels like a child, wanting to ask so many questions, thoughts shifting from this, to that, up until all his thoughts run together and all he can do is squeeze you in his grasp. 

He’d have pulled down the stars if he could just so it could be your first view of the afterlife with him. But alas, he couldn’t step away even for a moment. He needed to be with you, not just for your sake, but his own. 

You’re cold now, but oh, the blood within him could satiate him for hundreds of years. It’s gone from you now, and he fears not missing it. Not when you’re here. Not when you chose to be here with him. 

You weakly nod to him, amazed at being able to do it again. Already the pain you’d previously felt feels like a long lost memory as you stare back at him. 

“I’m sorry.” He smiles through the apology, unable to pretend he means the words at all. “I didn’t intend to drain you so quickly. My poor love, you must have felt miserable.” 

You nod again, feeling him so tightly against you.

Only just realizing that he’s holding you. Your body, it’s coming back to you. You can feel sensations again. 

“I feel–” Your voice cracks with a dry throat and you inhale.

On instinct, you try to exhale but your throat just gets drier and drier. 

“I–”

Sunghoon coos, shushing you with a gentle kiss. Lending you his own saliva because if there’s one thing he can remember, it’s the act of learning how to…not breathe. 

“Slowly, love, slowly.” He smiles when he pulls back, watching you swallow around his gift and instantly droop your eyes again. 

“You’ve only just died and you have all the time in this world to speak, no need to do it now.” 

And he’s right. You’re spinning, yet balanced. Fuzzy yet smooth. You are everything and nothing at this moment with your glowing after-death aroma. Sunghoon smiles, cradling the back of your head. 

Finally, he’s gotten to drink you in full. No true death, and he feels more elated than he ever expected. Almost lulled to sleep at the scent of you disappearing. Never will he taste your blood again, but you. He has you now. Knowing you had a taste at all is enough. Knowing that he has broken for you enough to beg you.

To beg you to die for him just to be with him on a level deeper than thirst. 

Never once has he wanted someone like this.

And never once had he expected you to agree with him. 

The moment is sweet with him, and still you’ve yet to comprehend the truth reality of your life now. You know at least, that it could take longer than you’d have had previously to figure it out. You did this to be with someone, and that someone is right here next to you. Smiling, clinging, seemingly ecstatic to know he’s no longer alone. 

A forever companion, truly this time. 

And as sweet as the moment is, time still moves even after becoming ageless. 

“The sun will rise soon,” Sunghoon hums at your reluctant gaze at the window. “Shall we go home?”

You would nod. Truly, you would, if it weren’t for that suffocating scent entering your nose. 

Roses? No, tulips?

Lavender? 

Your belly pangs, a dry and itchy feeling overtaking your entire being. To the point that Sunghoon clinging to you can’t even calm the itch. The world stops at the scent, so strong and sweet. 

Sunghoon smells it too though, and he knows. He’s experienced it time and time again, though he’s long since learned how to control it, clearly. He purses his lips in frustration. You’ve only just come back, and he’d very much like to get you home with him so that you can learn and grow accustomed to this life. You need to realize that you haven’t even experienced the hardest part yet. 

Disappearing. 

After all, his intention was to hunt for you, teach you, comfort you. There’s so much to do now that the deed is done, and he hadn’t prepared for interruptions such as this.

Unfortunately, he knows very well the thirst. You won’t be able to control it, especially considering he knows this scent too. He has to force himself to try and lend you alluring words, but they seem to go through one ear and out the other. 

Your brain is empty at the scent. 

“Ah, what a turn of events.” He tics his tongue with a smile. “I smell him too.”

Your eyes do not reach Sunghoon at all, but he understands. Even with the jealousy in his gut. 

A key clicking into a lock, a turn of the knob. The sound is amplified in your ears along with the scent. 

“Wake up and help me unload all this shit!” 

Oh, what a shame. 

You really loved Jungwon. 

“Can you smell it flowing through him?” Sunghoon smiles at the light in your eye now, endeared by the way scent ignites you entirely. As envious of Jungwon as he is to hold certain parts of you when he couldn’t do it himself, seeing the way you react arouses him beyond belief. 

Your first feeling of thirst. 

“Shall I greet him?” 

・・・・・・・・・・・・・・

Jungwon peers at the stoic figure that appeared from your bedroom. His first thought is that he’s going to kick your fucking ass because number one, this better not be who he thinks it is. And number two–

There is no number two. A mere three seconds after stepping into his new home with you, his mind goes fuzzy. Thinking only of you, of needing to see you, of needing to make sure you’re okay. 

He wants to know if you slept well, and if you were able to have any sweet dreams without him here. 

“Jungwon, I take it?” Sunghoon lends him a lively smile, impressed by the pull you unintentionally lay on the guy. 

“Ah, yeah.” Jungwon weakly scratches the back of his neck before feeling his body move on its own. “Where is she? I need to see her.” 

It’s a pity, really, but Sunghoon has seen it time and time again with his own victims. A weak mind, one that is easily broken and even easier to lure. It’s kind of cute really, seeing how breathing humans cling to what balances them. 

He almost feels bad for taking you from Jungwon, but he doesn't only because he hates that he has to see you drink from someone you were attached to. He knows it’ll hurt you when you realize, and he no longer wants to see you hurt after witnessing your death.

As beautiful as it was. 

Jungwon truly chases you, stepping through the apartment and dropping everything in his hands without care. He heads straight to your room, swallowed in a somber smile and a welcome scent. One that he doesn’t know is death.

“Wonnie.” You rasp sweetly. “Come here.” 

There’s no reluctance within him, even upon hearing Sunghoon close the door behind him and lock it. Even when the man looms at the door, watching, narrowing his eyes at you in jealousy. 

You ignore it as you grow enamored with Jungwon at this moment. Is this what his life smells like? So pretty, it truly fits him. 

And it drowns out all of your thoughts. The flowers, like a fresh spring day with no worry. You think it’s your favorite smell in the world as you inhale him with each step he takes toward you. 

For Jungwon, even upon feeling you grip his shirt, pulling him closer than he’s ever been to you without the excuse of comfort, he pays no mind. He missed this bubble he shared with you, the single night with his sister almost felt like agony to be away from you.

After all, the love he holds for you is truly deeper than romance. There is no need for any physicality between the two of you, yet…he welcomes it at this moment. In fact, he’s entirely aroused, stiffening in his pants at the sheer blissful anxiety your uncanny smile and shining eyes lend to him. 

Did you truly miss him so much? 

“You look so pretty…” He trails off, closing his eyes as he feels you caress his warm cheeks. “Your hands are so cold, let me—ah” 

You’ve never felt an instinct quite like this. You could truly hear it, the pulse of his heart. You can still smell his sweet scent, and you truly weren’t in control of your own body when you gripped him, lifted, and sank your teeth right against his pulse point. 

Jungwon moans at the bite, drifting off entirely at first contact. 

All while Sunghoon continues to loom. Watching with weight in his pants. The way you bite so messily, spilling blood and wasting it as it trickles down Jungwon’s throat. The small sounds your mouth makes as you suck has him throbbing non-stop, to the point he almost needs to hold onto something just to keep from jumping on you, just to keep from tasting Jungwon himself.

And, oh, his pretty love, you have so much to adapt to. 

It appears he does as well. 

As he watches the furrow of your brows at the first taste falling to that of relief and pleasure as you drink, and you drink, and you drink, until–

Sunghoon smirks now, quirking his brow at how you stop yourself before he needs to step in and separate the two of you. In all honesty, he was unsure if he’d be able to give in and stop you either. After all, killing Jungwon now would prove easier than letting him live.

The fact that you stopped yourself though. Perhaps your mind grew more stubborn and strong-willed through death. He nearly cannot believe that you aren’t draining the man dry right now. 

And you aren’t even sure yourself why you do. The feeling in your gut is full and satiated, but the grip Jungwon has on you only grows more and more limp. You love the way he clings as much as the taste, and even through his slumber, he clinged so tight. 

Not so much now though, and that scared you. So, you let go. 

If only because truly, you do love Jungwon. Enough to no longer pull him into your messes despite forcing him to become one at this moment. What’s even more scary is though, even with all of the endearment you held towards him in life, the feeling is only amplified now. These new bitter and floral scents pulsing through him makes you want to protect him from any leech wanting to drink it out of him.

Even if you’re the leech. 

Ah, he tasted like honey suckle, and it dropped down your throat like honey too. Warm, gentle, pretty. Just like him. 

And you have to continue to keep yourself from sinking your teeth into him. Your stomach is greedy, wanting more, but too in love with the life he has and willingly wanted to share with you as a best friend and forever comfort. 

Forever for Jungwon is nothing but a moment to you now, but it’s one you hope he enjoys, at least. 

And when you hold him against you, so weak and sound asleep, you look at Sunghoon. The tears fall so, so, cold against your cheeks. The heightened senses within you become overwhelming with the horrifying silence and intense smell of floral blood wafting through your nose. 

“Much like you, he won’t remember. You lured him deeply, love, did you know that? He was asleep from the moment he saw you.” 

You pause, nodding as the tears continue to fall. 

“Brilliant.” He compliments now, moving to hold you as you cling to Jungwon. 

“Sunghoon, did my blood taste like that?” 

Sunghoon kisses you once, sucking Jungwon’s blood from your tongue. 

“Ah,” He chokes. “Absolutely not.”

You pause at his scrunched nose. 

“You were much sweeter.” He whispers sweetly, fondly, tilting his head to kiss against you again, licking the mess of Jungwon’s blood from your lips, chin, and neck. Still, he chokes it down. “I’ll miss it.”

“What did it taste like?” Your weak and dry voice falters repeatedly, but you need to speak right now.

“You tell me.” 

You only slightly remember the flavor as you were brought back. Warm, blooming, spicy, sickeningly sweet. 

“I have never tasted anything compared to it…” 

“Exactly.” Sunghoon smiles, inhaling deeply and lending no breath against your skin when he scrapes his teeth there. “Like the sun.” He hums, nosing down to your neck and inhaling again, arms only slightly trying to push Jungwon out of your grasp. “Like the one thing that could get me killed.” 

You cling tightly to your best friend though, not wanting any more harm to come to him. Still, you stare at Sunghoon’s sweet words, finding yourself smiling at all that is to be gained rather than lost. 

Your life. The light outside, the light in your eyes, the warmth. 

Not Jungwon though. 

“You don’t intend to leave him be, no?” Sunghoon furrows a brow at how your face rises for him, but falls instantly at inhaling Jungwon’s blood. 

You frantically shake your head. 

“We’ll figure something out, love.” He says now, looking away from you and doing his best to ignore the envy that fills him time and time again when this floral-boy is near. 

He told you he’d do anything for you, give anything to you. 

If that includes Jungwon….

Ah, always so fucking stubborn. 

・・・・・・・・・・・・・・

The sun rises and falls. 

Repeatedly, for months. 

Jungwon wakes himself with the warm sun hitting his face, the bed just as warm from his own body heat. He loves this space, and adores the way that even if it’s only him, he never feels lonely with that pretty smell in the air. 

Every morning when he wakes up, and every night before he goes to bed.

The shock of learning the inevitable still hurts him from time to time, but still, he smiles with that dimple you threatened you’d steal right off his face if he chose not to show it to you. 

His hand reaches to his neck, the single wound you gave him and apologized profusely for after. It’s healed well.

And when his phone vibrates in the middle of the day, he wonders why you’re awake. 

You: wonnie

Wonnie: wat

You: come over

Wonnie: was wondering why you were trying so hard. nearly suffocated this morning. 

You: and you were fighting it? asshole

Wonnie: be over in a few, stinky

And as strange as it is, Sunghoon doesn’t mind that you wouldn’t let Jungwon go. After several conversations needing reassurance that you’re not trying to spend your forever elsewhere, anyway.

Really, to think you’d die for him but want someone else? Sunghoon truly is insane, but so are you. 

And it works. 

Because Jungwon loves insanity, even if he hates Sunghoon with a passion. Even if he can only see you with Sunghoon in the room too. Even if you’re dead. 

You’re still his best friend, and he doesn’t mind helping you disappear as long as it’s not from him. 

・・・・・・・・・・・・・・

not me accidentally making this a sunghoon ft.jungwon fic. 

Fanart by @a-the-na 🖤🖤🖤🖤

[cyberpunkhwx]

please make a san version of the Average Stamina? Pretty please but a little longer and After her first squirt San makes her squirt over and over?

Fuck you empty

Pairing: bf!San x fem!reader

Word count: 1k

Warnings: pure smut, mdni, dom!San, sub!reader, fingering, oral(fem recieves), praises‌, pet names(love, babe, baby, darling), multiple cumming, multiple squirting, overstimulation, pretty quick ending and after care |let me know if i forgot anything|

Average stamina

A/n: atinys are hella kinky tbh. lowkey proofreaded~ pls ignore all the typos etc and let yourself enjoy the filth

You could say you knew your boyfriend of three years almost better than anyone else. From all he was passionate about, to dancing, singing his heart out and to being the best boyfriend the world has ever seen.

But some stuff takes three years to learn about

......

"Cmon baby give me one more, I know you can do it" He exhaled the words, barely audible. Only aving you coming down from your high wasn't enough for him, like he could even have enough of your pretty little flushed orgasm face.

"Sannie- please! Ahhm" you struggle again his bruising grip holding onto your waist, pinning tou on the mattress of your shared bed. Your hands move down to his bigger ones, not sure if you were holding into him for support or trying to escape the unwanted pleasure he was giving you regardless.

He rubbed his thumb across your soft tummy to comfort, while his other arms was busy mercilessly thrusting three fingers in your already soaking hole.

"Oh? Yes my baby, you can give me more, I know you do. Cmon, make your Sannie proud" He loosened the grip on your waist to let you hold his hand, before holding it tightly again. Not trusting your hips to stay put on its own.

Instead he moved his hand toward your lower belly, low enough for his thumb to now be resting on your puffy clit, rubbing circles on it to help you get closer, as if you werent already bursting wirh the pleasure.

"Feels good nah darling? You feel it too? The burning feeling right here in your little belly?" He pressed the same thumb onto your lower belly making you scream in pain, lifting your legs up uncontrollably, arching your back as far as you could.

Fuck his and his stupid thumb.

That's what you thought. But not exactly what you whimpered.

"Sannie- so close please- more-ah"

"Oh? Thought you wanted me to stop? Make your mind love" he said not hiding the smirk in his voice as moved his hands even faster if it even was possible. You could feel your legs shaking around his body as you kept on arching your back toward him, you body moving itself towards him, as if it knows your desires better.

"Sannie- cumming cumming, it's-cumming-" He moved his hands to a new angle, hitting were you thought he should've have, because the moment he did, you felt the wave of euphoria wash over your soul as if you could feel anything no more. As if your body went numb, you let go of everything except for your lifely grip of his hand.

"God damn my baby, you made a mess" you said taking his fingers out of your now freaking dripoing cunt. After not hearing any answers, he pulled his hand holding you, towards him, making your head face him, looking at his now wet lower body, mixed with his own pre cum, on his now angey red cock.

"You see this love? You did this, all this with thay pretty cunt of yours" he let go of your head, letting you crawl in a corner.

"We are you going babe? Are you gonna be so cruel to this pretty pussy? Look at it, it's yearning for more" He let his index and middle finger wrap themselves around sensetive clit, squizing it the slightest just to get your attention back to him.

"Hmm love? I can feel like beating for more, it starts to drip again, is it because of my words? Or because of my fingers working on you?" He kept his movement, frustratingly slowly.

"Sannie- can't do more-tired" you muttered, hips already shaking at his movement, trying to fine a way to escape.

"Oh baby, that's why I take charge here, yo can't make the right decisions after a few orgasm, tsk" He chuckled before continuing-

"You still have alot to give me my darling, I'm just trying to help you" He re-angled his hands, now having all fingers on your bare pussy, moving harshly to the sides, caging you legs with his much stronger ones.

You cried out his name multiple times before feeling the liquid dripping harshly out of your hole.

"Hmm, not quite there now are we love?" It was a theoretical question. No answer needed. He gave your over sensetive clit and few more rubs, as if he was enjoying this more than he's supposed to be. Maybe he does.

He moved his fingers, lower towards you hole, pushing in two fingers scissors you open, only for more than your cum to drip out.

"oh baby, your body if calling for me, gonna fuck you empty" he muttered to himself. He lifted your hips higher, placing it on a pillow nearby. Having fully acces to your little cunt. He moved his mouth to your clit, sucking in it with his whole mouth, while his fingers begun to play with your walls.

"Cmon baby, squirt it all on my face, let ir go and you'll feel better. I know best" He voice was muffled and so were your ears with the sound of your heart beating louder than ever. Everything felt so great and painful at the same time. You wanted it to stop and never end. Your brain told you that you couldn't take more while your body went limb in san's hold, trusting with your whole being.

"sannie, cumming" that was all you could say before abutting your mouth again, rubbing your cunt towards his handsome face.

"Cum baby, be a good girl" you let you eye lids close as you felt ridiculously empty, as if you were even lighter.

Suddenly you whined in pain as you saw your boyfriend slowly and so gently letting your sore legs now on the soft bit drenched mattress.

"Now that felt better, didn't it? He said winking right after. Running a hand on your body, giving a fast massage before he grabbing his t-shirt from the ground to clean both you and him.

" I think we'll need abit more wash clothes than this one" He joked, still having enough energy to move around with his naked butt.

"But no worries, I got us both"! He said showing you his dimples as if he didn't take the soul out of you.

Ateez masterlist

[sergeantbarnessdoll]

Watching Over You » Bucky Barnes/Winter Soldier

Pairings: Bucky Barnes x Reader

Summary: Bucky’s girl best friend (the reader) watches over him while he sleeps so he doesn’t have another nightmare.

Warnings: Fluff, language, nightmares, mentions of past trauma, kissing, pet names (doll)

Written on my phone so sorry if there’s any mistakes or typos.

GIF IS NOT MINE! Credit goes to the creators.

🩵🩵🩵🩵🩵🩵🩵🩵🩵🩵🩵🩵🩵🩵🩵🩵🩵

“Bucky, wake up.” Bucky hears a faint voice.

“Bucky.” He hears again.

“Bucky!” He finally wakes up.

Bucky’s eyes shot open and he sat up, covered in sweat and breathing heavily with dilated eyes. You moved back a little to give him some space.

“Copy my breathing.” You say softly.

You took a deep breath and exhaled. Bucky repeated your breathing pattern. You guys did that till his breathing went back to normal.

“Drink this.” You say, handing him a water bottle.

“Thanks.” Bucky says, taking the bottle from your hand.

He chugged half of it and put the lid back on.

“You wanna talk about it?” You asked.

Bucky shook his head no.

“Ok.” You say softly.

You sat down on the floor and leaned your back against the wall.

“C’mere.” You say, patting your thighs.

“You’re going to be uncomfortable.” Bucky says.

“I’ll be fine.” You say.

Bucky laid back down, laying his head on your lap. You ran your fingers through his hair.

“Thank you, doll. You’re a good friend. I’m glad that I have you.” He says, looking up at you.

“I’m glad that I have you too, Buck.” You smiled down at him.

You placed your hand on his scruffy cheek, rubbing your thumb across his stubbly cheek. Bucky gently grabbed your hand and kissed your palm making you smile.

“Get some sleep. I’ll be right here if you need anything.” You say softly.

Bucky held your hand as he fell back to sleep. When morning came, Bucky smiled when he seen that you were still with him.

“Good morning, Buck. How’d you sleep?” You asked, running your fingers through his messy hair.

“Better knowing that you stayed with me.” He smiles.

Bucky sat up, stretching and rubbing his eyes.

“Did you get any sleep?” He asks.

“No. I wanted to make sure that you were ok.” You say.

“You need your beauty sleep too, doll.” He says.

“I’m fine. I just—” You were interrupted by a yawn.

“No, you need some sleep.” He insists.

“Fine, but only if you buy me coffee when I wake up.” You say.

“I’ll take you out for a shopping spree too.” He smiles.

Bucky stands up, pulling you up with him. Your legs were numb from sitting on the hard floor for hours causing you to lose your balance, but Bucky was quick to catch you. You two stared into each other’s eyes for a moment. Before you knew it, Bucky’s lips were on yours, kissing you passionately. It felt like sparks were flying as you two kissed. Both of you pulled away breathlessly, still looking into each other’s eyes.

“Consider that a thank you for watching over me last night.” Bucky says.

“Anytime, Buck.” You say with a smile.

You felt your eyes start to droop shut and you laid your head on his chest. Bucky picked you up bridal style and gently laid you down in his bed. He laid down next to you and covered the two of you up with a blanket. You snuggled yourself against Bucky’s side. Bucky wrapped his arm around you and kissed the top of your head.

“Goodnight, doll.” Bucky says softly.

“Goodnight, Bucky.” You mumbled, already half asleep.

Bucky even fell back to sleep too. This is the first time in a long time that he was able to sleep peacefully without having nightmares and he has his girl best friend to thank for that.

🩵🩵🩵🩵🩵🩵🩵🩵🩵🩵🩵🩵🩵🩵🩵🩵🩵

-Bucky’s Doll

[venusbby]

sketches and sunsets

characters/pairing: itoshi rin x artist!reader

warnings: they are so stupid and awkward and cute but i just wanted to write this because i found my old sketchbook from years ago lol. not proofread, sorry if there are any typos <3

the sound of hurried scribbling and rough strokes on the paper filled the room as he tried his best to stifle a yawn. he couldn't help but cringe a little at the possibility of you seeing his weak attempt to do so, eyes focused on your form as you continued to bring those quick and light lines to life in your sketchbook.

with your gaze flickering between the book on your lap and him in front of you, you made the same mistake over and over- making eye contact.

although you were looking back and forth, his eyes stayed on you and it was more nerve wracking than any thing. it was as if he was studying you and creating a sketch in his mind, and there's nothing more scary than finding out what you look like from his eyes.

"sorry, uh, if you're tired already."

rin was looking at you already, but he wasn't, you realized, when he finally looked right at you this time. if not your eyes, then what was he looking at?

for you, as an artist, (not sure you'd want to call yourself that because it takes you a few months to come back to your sketchbook after each drawing) the eyes are the most important. they're your favorite part to start with because they somehow guide you to draw the rest of the face. (even if it might not be the valid first step according to some art teachers.)

so for some reason you didn't really understand what rin was looking at other than your eyes.

speaking of eyes, his were really pretty.

you don't need him to know that, and you also don't need him to know that you spent more time than usual to sketch out his pretty eyes.

"no, i'm not tired." he said, almost finding his voice unfamiliar because of how long it had been since either of you spoke.

there was no special lighting except the warm, orange hues of the sun coming from the window of your bedroom and rin was in his usual clothes: a hoodie and sweats, because there was no reason to dress up. he lived next door anyway, so if there was a plan to go out and eat street food he'd just change into some jeans. your favorite watermelon slice pillow looking smaller than usual trapped between his arms as he used them for support to avoid slouching.

you sat a few feet away from the bed where he was, partially because you didn't believe you had the guts to stay so close while you studying his features. some artist part of you and some part of you that has fallen for the boy next door thinks its too intimate.

rin gulped. was it him or were the strands of your hair looking a warmer shade because of the sunlight? and your skin was glowing. you just did that thing you always do when you're focused, just like you were a few weeks ago when he had asked you to choose which pictures he should post on his instagram that was gaining followers left and right after blue lock.

how much longer?

he might just end up saying the things he's thinking if he looks at you any longer. saying that you're driving him crazy.

"alright, just a little detailing left. im sorry." you mumbled, now squinting so you could see better the minute details that you started adding, like his lashes.

"stop apologizing," rin said calmly. "i know it takes time."

you quietly nibbled on the inside of your cheek, feeling your fingers go slightly numb and hesitantly tossing your pencil on the study table nearby. "done."

rin moved. he moved closer.

he sat on the edge of the bed now, right in front of you. you felt your back ache from how you sat in the most uncomfortable position in your chair. he looked at you expectantly, holding his hand out.

this is the first time you've drawn after months. this is the first time you've drawn your best friend.

the reality of it all is just sinking into you and the burning sensation under your skin grew. you asked him if you could draw him and now that it's done you don't want to show it to him because it's a little embarrassing that you'd never put this much your heart and soul into a drawing before.

with a soft exhale, you gave the sketchbook and cracked your knuckles to relieve the pent up pressure. rin scanned the drawing from top to bottom, those pretty eyes stopping for a second at some point of the image. you licked your dry lips, hoping you didn't accidentally fuck up his features in a hurry.

he set the sketchbook down and your back straightened against the wood of your chair.

"i like it," he nodded once, blinking a few times to use the same eyes that he saw just now on paper, the prettier version.

"im glad," you smiled, anxiety defusing slowly. "it's been a long time since i drew. you're pretty easy to draw. wait, not in that way-"

"i love it." he admitted.

"oh, okay." you smiled wider, and while you thought of something more to say, rin beat you to it.

"i wanna draw you too." he mumbled, leaning in so, so slightly. "teach me, so i can draw you. i don't think i'll be able to make you look as pretty as you look in real life, because i'm not even close to decent at drawing."

your mouth opened and closed like a fish. you weren't even sure you blinked for the next five seconds- and oh, since when were you leaning in too? this was the most rin had talked in one go.

"are you.. calling me pretty?"

he took his time to answer that. gosh, you were too close. maybe you would've been able to draw his eyes even better if he was this close before.

"...yes."

rin's hand hovered just below your chin. he was hesitating. he wondered if his face looked as hot as it felt. he wondered if you were going to back off. you didn't. he gulped once more. "can i kiss you?"

it was too late. words had already died in your throat and you were surprised you even had it in you to nod repeatedly, slowly.

kissing rin itoshi while the sun had almost disappeared. what a story.

his lips were softer than you had imagined. and he seemed just as lost as you were, but even he didn't care. because he was kissing you.

his thumb and index holding your chin and your hand coming up to disappear into his dark locks, slightly pushing him closer so you could feel it more.

rin was almost on the edge of the bed and he was going to fall if he tried to get any closer. so he pulled away and guided you to sit on the bed beside him. his hands stayed glued to your waist as it all continued with fervor until you ended up lying on the bed staring at the ceiling that was covered in the green glow in the dark stars with your chests heaving and lips yearning for more. he remembered helping you put them up after school a few years ago.

your sketchbook laid right between you both.

your intertwined fingers didn't let go until it was dark outside your window and you guys heard your mom announcing that she had home from work.

rin only had a few favorite days to look back to. that day was one of them.

[scarlett-vixen]

hiiii guess who’s soaking wet rom dishwater and freezing their ass off outside because their ride home from work FORGOT ABT THEM?! your favorite 🍔 anon thats who!! (i mean…i’m your only 🍔 anon but that automatically makes me the favorite) …anyway, you know me. or atleast you know how much i think about beel. that demon man is my happy place istg- BUT I DIGRESS.

i have a scenario in mind where i’m only a couple weeks into my stay in the devildom. i finish work really late, and whichever demon bro was supposed to pick me up forgor for whatever reason. i wouldn’t know what to do because (A) the aforementioned demon bro could be arriving any second, (B) i don’t want to walk back to the HoL alone at night, and (C) i don’t want to annoy anyone by texting or calling too much. maybe beel is out for a quick snack run and sees me still waiting outside my job. he’d tell me that everyone is in bed and then offer to take me home like the big sweetie he is. and perhaps i’d be stumbling because my feet/legs hurt from standing in the cold, so beel would give me a piggyback ride >:) i’d hall asleep on the way and big boi would tent me to my room n tuck me in 🥰

btw if there’s typo ignore them bc i’m too lazy to read thru this ask again and also my fingers r numb fhxhdjjxkgz 🍔

Alsksjajjs I can not believe they forgot you not once but twice :((( illegal behavior. Our man Beelzebub would NEVER he would immediately notice you weren’t home and that the brother responsible for picking you up was asleep and he would sprint to pick you up!!!! He brings a blanket because he knows it’s cold out for a human and he wraps you up then carries you all the way home. He makes you a cup of your fav warm drink, he sets you in his lap in front of the fireplace and holds your hands under his to help warm them up. He makes sure you’re tucked in bed and sleeping soundly before he leaves to find the neglectful brother…. You know in cartoons or anime when the one person is just doing normal things and then the enemy/other character appears behind them with their face blacked out but with red glowing eyes insinuating a beat down is coming? That’s Beel as he stands over the sleeping brother. How dare they forget about you.

I hope you are warm and cozy now💖💖

[buckyhoney-library]

𝐛𝐚𝐭𝐡 & 𝐛𝐨𝐝𝐲, 𝐜.𝐞

a/n: this was a request :) i loved writing it for you!!

reblogs/likes/feedback is greatly appreciated & highly encouraged! However, do NOT steal/repost ANY of my fics!

follow my main blog: @buckyhoney

18+ warning

Warnings: 18+, language, no plot- just porn, shower sex, unprotected sex, oral (f & m), light overstimulation (m receiving), sorry for any missed typos!

Word Count: 1.5k

Narrow beams of sun slip between the cracks of the blinds, and the sound of the dress drawer opening cause him to stir. Lazily looking over the comforter, he sees your backside- the only thing covering you is the panties.

Oblivious to the man staring at you from behind, you grab a fresh pair of shorts and a t-shirt. Setting them on top of the dresser, you slide down the panties- tossing them into the hamper with your pajamas.

The sound of the water running drowns out the music that plays from your phone. You're trying your hardest to not wake Chris. It's rare when he sleeps in, and you didn't want to disturb him with the sound of music or rustling through the drawers.

The sight of your fully nude body sends jolts of energy through him. He stares as your body gracefully moves through the room, collecting things for your shower.

Barely awake, you haphazardly tie your hair up. The baby hairs that didn't make it into the bun fall around your neck and around your face.

After wrapping the towel around your body, covering your intimate areas, Chris's lower half perks up, unaware of your boyfriend awake- you disappear behind the bathroom wall. There is a moment of thought before Chris throws the blanket off his body.

The shower door opens, and steam escapes. You're welcomed by the warm water that instantly relaxes your muscles, and your eyes flutter shut- sighing in relief.

Just as you're about to grab your loofa and body wash, the shower door opens. The cool air stings against your warmed skin. Goosebumps covering your body, you yelp in fear- gripping your chest and squeezing your eyes shut. Your back hitting the shower wall, water spraying in your hair.

Whatever ounce of exhaustion you felt is gone by the surprise visitor.

When you open your eyes, you're greeted with an overly excited thirty-nine-year-old man standing in front of you.

"I thought you were sleeping!" The sigh of relief and annoyed tone causes Chris to chuckle.

" 'm sorry I scared you, but you were showering without me," His lips pout, and his eyes droop.

"You were supposed to be sleeping- Chris, I have to actually shower." The threatening tone and pointing finger losing their effect when you glance down- eyeing his already hard cock.

The words slowing and your mouth watering. Chris takes notice of the prolonged stare and smirks to himself.

"m'kay, I'll behave," He teases playfully, breaking your trance.

While reaching for your loofa, you feel his calloused palms on your hips stopping you. So instead, he goes for the loofa and the bottle of citrus-smelling soap.

You stand behind him. Water falls down his back- highlighting the muscles and your eyes watch as each water droplet falls from his skin.

Chris turns around, messaging the soap into the loofa. Suds forming around his fingers. He smiles, turning your body around- so you're facing the wall. The loofa glides over your shoulder and upper back. Your head tilts and rolls in front of you, stretching your neck- letting your body relax once again.

The loofa is tossed to the shower bench. Your body is brought to his chest, and his hands run over your torso with the soap. His hands replace the sponge and cup your breasts. You let your head fall back onto his shoulder.

Chris gently kisses the side of your head as he palms your breasts- messaging them. The suds have worked their way into your skin. Small kisses pepper along your neck and shoulder. His beard tickling the skin.

The water sprays into your hair as he steps back, solidifying his stance.

Irritated, you groan softly.

"Today wasn't wash day!" The whine isn't met with an attempt to move, stuck in the bliss of his fingers pinching and rolling your nipples.

Chris chuckles into your neck- attention broke from the complaint. His hands stop their work on your breasts. You turn around, wondering why the pleasureful sensation has stopped.

"I'm trying to do my best work," His tone playfully hurt.

Bringing your lips to his, you sigh,

" 'm sorry, how will I ever make it up to you?" Chris sharply inhales, and his eyes flutter shut.

Your fingers wrap around his length. Slowly stroking him and placing small pecks on his chest. The tile floor meets your knees as you sink down, still stroking him. Chris stepped back to lean against the wall, removing himself from the water.

His cock is swollen and leaking precum. Your lips close around his tip, earning a whimper from Chris. It echos within the confined four walls of the shower. Swirling your tongue around his tip, you hollow your hand twists the rest of his throbbing cock.

"Shit!" His hand wraps itself around your hair—the water deforming the bun, making it more into a loose ponytail.

Guiding your head with your hair, you take more of him inside- stopping halfway. Drool hangs from your mouth as you pull yourself off of him. Chris stares down at you, your innocent eyes stare back at him. Not breaking the contact, you slide down his length- nose brushing against his pelvis.

Another sharp inhale and a breathy whine escape him. You hold yourself against him for a moment before gagging against him.

The sound of your gags pushes Chris closer to his climax. Pulling off of him once more, you pump his length. His cock is in desperate need of a release.

"Feels s'good, baby- shit!" Chris jerks his hips against your hand.

The overwhelming pleasure washes over him. Strings of curses flow from his lips, bucking his hips.

Ropes of cum shoot onto your tongue as you continue to stroke his length, making sure to get every last drop. The sensitivity causes an airy whimper to escape him.

"It's too sensitive- please," Giggling, you stand to your feet- hand still pumping him.

"just don't wanna waste any," His chest rises and falls, trying to stabilize his breath.

Without warning, the sides of your face are cupped by his hands, and your lips melt into his. Tasting himself, Chris moans against your mouth. The kiss heats up as Chris's hands begin to roam over your wet body. Water spraying as your bodies switch places, your leg propped up by the shower bench.

"You said you were gonna behave," Kisses are being scattered all over your breasts and torso. Your fingers lace through his wet hair,

"You started it," He mumbles against your skin- his tongue licking down your tummy toward your pelvis.

His facial hair tickles your sensitive inner thighs as he kisses around your clit. Your cunt yearns for his lips to surround your clit- to be stuffed full of his cock. Chris's fingers spread your folds open, seeing just how needy you are for him.

"God, I love this cunt," He breathes, inhaling your scent.

Teasing your aching hole, his tongue glides inside your folds. Pleasure builds inside your lower abdomen.

His tongue flickers around your clit. His palms hold your legs apart, allowing better access to your sensitive nerve.

"Please, baby-" The moans echo throughout the walls, encouraging Chris.

His lips close around your clit, sucking on the nerve- his hand travels up to your breast. Adding pleasure by pinching your nipple. You feel your legs begin to feel weak as the assault on your aching cunt continues.

Clawing at the slick wall, you roll your hips into his mouth- desperate for more. Chris presses his hand against your tummy, pinning it against the wall.

"Would you stop movin'?" The frustrated grunt sends vibrations around your clit.

The pleasure overwhelms your body, sending warning shocks through you.

"I'm gonna cum- feels so good- fuck!" For a moment, his mouth is ripped from your clit.- only for it to be replaced with his cock.

Contracting around his cock, your mouth falls open at the size of his cock. Chris chuckles at the reaction. No matter how many times he is inside you- it's still a shock.

Clinging to his back and neck, you choke,

"Chris, please-"

He thrusts into you at a rapid pace- his heavy pants ring through your ear. Eyes flutter shut, unable to stay open.

"S'tight, I gotta fuck this cunt more often, huh?" The filthy words are muffled as you enter a state of nirvana.

Each thrust getting deeper and deeper- the whimpers and whines flow from your throat shamelessly. Chris feels your walls close around him.

"I can feel it, baby; you need to cum?" Frantically nodding, your head hits the shower wall.

Chis's pace picks up, sending you over the edge. Shockwaves soar through your body, and your legs go numb. Your body clings to Chris as moans fly from you.

"There you go, baby, s'good," He stands still- allowing your body to calm down.

Chris pulls himself out slowly- your pelvis buck from the lack of fullness. Once your breathing steadies and you regain your balance- a glare is shot in Chris's direction.

"You're not allowed to shower with me- ever." You playfully scold.

Chris laughs, grabbing at your body, but you squirm- dodging his grasp laughing along with him.

taglist: @hunter-of-baker-street @ifeelloved @freshluiana @midnightf

[rekrappeter]

looking at the moon, but seeing you

pairing: draco malfoy x fem!reader

summary: you find yourself drawn to draco malfoy, an october evening welcoming something you never expected

warnings: mention of feeling numb, swearing, typos

notes: please let me know what you think of this, feedback would be amazing thank you - if there’s an inaccuracy of the wizarding world in this, please don’t let me know, I’m not interested <333

I had originally started writing this for @bricksatanakinswindow​ ‘s wc and had a prompt in mind, but then I went on a tangent and finished it forgetting to use the prompt oops but anyways, I hope y’all enjoy it either way <3

It was your favorite time of the year. Orange and brown leaves scattered the grass, the sound of them crunching when students trampled over them to get to class, and it was always dark before the final class ended. The ghosts seemed to be more present during mealtimes and the flickering of the crimson fires above the four tables created shadows around the dining hall. There was an eerie, yet wholesome atmosphere that Hogwarts welcomed during the month of October. But the thing you loved most about October in Hogwarts was the Annual Halloween Feast. 

You were staring wide-eyed at the mounts of food that appeared in front of you, your mouth watering at the sight of the freshly trimmed turkey and the pumpkin pies that were making your stomach grumble with hunger. It took everything in your power to not reach out for your first servings, knowing that everyone was waiting for Professor Dumbledore to finish up his annual Halloween speech. The moment he gave you permission to start eating, your hands reached out for the first bowl of vegetables closest to you. 

“Calm down there,” Ron chuckled, his red hair brushing across his forehead, “It won’t disappear right away.” 

“You’re one to talk,” you snapped back, a playful smirk tugging on your lips as you eyed his plate already half-filled with chicken wings and mash potatoes. 

Ron scoffed, his cheeks turning red, “Quidditch practice makes me hungry.” You rolled your eyes as the boy rambled on, trying to plead his case but as you looked over his shoulder towards the Slytherin table, his voice was just a mere whisper amongst the eyes staring back at you. Cold, dull blue eyes were on your figure from across the room, his porcelain face rested in the palm of his hands and his pink lips were a spark contrast from his snow-white hair. 

“Is Draco Malfoy staring at me?” you whispered softly to Hermione, ignoring the confused glances from the red head boy that thought he was having a conversation with you. Hermione peaked over Ron’s shoulder strategically, pretending to scratch her nose in the process. The creasing of her fluffy brows confirmed your suspicions and you both stare at Draco, it wasn’t until the taller boy beside him, Blaise, nudged his shoulder with his that Draco was pulled out of what seemed to be a daydream. His eyes widened for a second, his tongue darting from his mouth to wet his lips as he raised a brow in your direction. 

‘What?’ you mouthed to him, and he shot you an annoyed, almost hateful, glare your way before tearing his gaze from you. A scoff passed your lips, it was so typical of Draco to make it seem like it was your fault that he was staring at you. “That was weird,” you murmured, shrugging your shoulders and the grumble of your stomach remembered that you had forgot to feed it all day. 

When the Feast had come to an end, the magically thundering and lightening lit up the Great Hall causing students to erupt into discussions of thrill and excitement. The tables disappeared from underneath you, as the room transforming into it’s annual Halloween afterparty. Pumpkins that Hagrid grew himself were huddled in the corners, big enough to fit three full adult males in them, and orange and black streamers were dangling from the ceiling. The table that the teachers occupied was gone and replaced with a stage, instruments scattered around on top and you could spot a skeleton tuning a guitar. 

A grin was unfaltering on your face, the excitement bubbling inside you. You glanced at Hermione, seeing her face in complete awe at the sight in front of her and you hated the fact that your eyes found themselves travelling across the room to the platinum blonde. Despite his foul demeanor throughout the entirety of the feast, an amused smile was rested on his lips as he watched the band of skeletons take the stage. As the music started, people began shuffling onto the makeshift dancefloor, still draped in their house robes. Your stare constantly kept finding it’s way to Draco, and no matter how much you scolded yourself, you couldn’t get him out of your mind. 

This started towards the end of last year, these growing unwanted feelings that you held for the Slytherin Prince. The summer break couldn’t have come quick enough, Hogwarts was a big place but you kept finding yourself bumping into him or walking in the same empty corridors as he did. Throughout the summer, you hadn’t thought about him once - you labeled it as a stupid crush, the inevitability of falling for the ‘bad boy’ of your year. Of course, he had ladies falling all over him, but you’d never seen him with anyone other than Pansy Parkinson and even at that, you weren’t sure if they were exclusive. You tried not to dwell on it much, the thought of the two doing things together in the dungeons brought a wave of nausea each time. You thought the feelings that developed were gone, but the moment he walked onto the platform at Kings Cross, time stopped and it was just him there amongst the bustle of people bidding goodbye to their families. You scolded yourself the whole train ride, feeling yourself falling into daydreams and fantasies of what could be. But you were a Gryffindor, and he was a Slytherin. It wouldn’t work. 

“You’re staring this time,” Hermione smirked, an amused glint in her eyes. She twirled you around so that your back was to Draco, and you silently thanked her. You had confided in Hermione about your little crush on Draco, hoping she’d be able to smack some sense into you and help you remember all the cruel things he’s said to you in the past but the thing was… you remembered all those things, you repeated them in your head but it still wasn’t enough to stop you from wondering where he was and letting your eyes linger after him. 

The night was drawing to an end, a night filled with endless laughter and dancing. You were on your way to the common room, arm linked with Harry as he swayed with you, drunk on happiness. Passing the courtyards, somehow your eyes spied a figure making it’s way to the black lake, and if it wasn’t for the hair that gleamed under the moonlight, you wouldn’t have given it a second thought. But you detangled yourself from Harry, him giving you a puzzled look. “I-I think I forgot my bookbag by the lake earlier.” 

“Do you want me to go down and look for it with you?” Harry asked, his hair tousled and sweat beading on his forehead from the amount of dancing he was forced to do. 

“No, I’ll only be a second,” you said, stepping backwards onto the grass, “I’ll follow you up.” Harry was hesitant to leave you behind, Ron calling his name from inside the castle but he nodded reluctantly. Hogwarts was after all the safest place you could be. You scurried down towards the bed of water, your eyes adjusting to the darkness until you spotted his figure sitting underneath a tree that was naked of leaves. 

“Following me, y/l/n?” you could hear the ennui in his voice, and it made you halt your steps. Maybe it was the glee from the October evening that led you to follow him, or maybe it was the dissatisfaction of not knowing how it felt to feel his lips on yours that made you come down here. Pursing your own lips, you took a step back hearing the crinkle of leaves under your foot as you twirled to march back up the hill you practically ran down. Draco sighed, “you can stay.” 

You were thankful that it was dark outside, the grin on your face practically glistening at his words. You sat crossed legged in front of him, feeling the October chill kiss your cheeks as his eyes gazed at the stars above you. While his eyes were lost in the nature that surrounded you, your eyes were on his face, taking in every fraction of it up close. How the eleven year old boy with an innocent smirk you met a number of years ago had morphed into the exhausted looking seventeen year man sitting in front of you. His pale face was separated with dark circles hoovering beneath his eyes, his pink lips were chapped and the speck of blood on his bottom lip indicated that he must have been nibbling on them recently. 

When the oddly comfortable silence became too much for you, your fingers digging into the grass underneath you, you breathed out a sigh gaining his attention. It was as if he forgot you were there. “Did you have fun tonight?” you asked. 

Draco scoffed, his eyes rolling, “I hate Halloween.” 

“How can you hate Halloween?” you questioned, your jaw dropping, “It’s practically a holiday dedicated to us!” 

“It’s a holiday dedicated to pretending to be someone you’re not, how incredible,” Draco drowned sarcastically. 

“Have you never wanted to be someone that wasn’t you?” Draco was stunned at your question, and he so eagerly wanted to scoff and question why would he want to be anyone else, but when he caught sight of your curious eyes, he became speechless. He stared at you like he did in the Great Hall previously, but instead of the lifeless stare that you were accustomed to at this point, his eyes were filled with sorrow and sadness. Of course he wanted to be someone else, the more he thought about it, he’d began to accept the fact that he wanted to be anyone but him. At the mere age of seventeen, he had so much responsibility resting on his shoulders, missions and tasks that he wasn’t allowed to speak to anyone about. He felt as if he was drowning. 

“Draco..” you breathed out, your breath fogging underneath the moonlight. Draco barely heard your face, he only came back to reality when he felt your soft, warm hand rest on his cheek and he jumped back in fright. “Hey, it’s just me..” you whispered, wiping the stray tears that were leaking from his eyes without him realising. 

Draco scrambled away from you on the grass, and you let your hand drop from his face. The spot you touched tingled as he stood up from the ground, fixing his robe that was draping off his shoulders. “W-why are you here?” he spat at you, his eyes twitching. 

You remained on the grass, looking up at his worried expression. You wanted to have an explanation as to why you were suddenly drawn to him, but you didn’t even know. “I-I don’t know, Draco.” 

Draco. Draco. Draco. His name that barely passed his ears lately felt like butterflies and fireworks falling from your lips. All he heard these days were Malfoy, no one addressed him as Draco anymore and he didn’t realise how much he needed to hear it, it grounded him. “Say my name again,” he mumbled, barely audible but from the raise of your brow, he knew you heard him. 

You stood up from the grass, taking a hesitant step towards him and you waited for him to jump away from you but he didn’t. You closed the gap between your bodies, his breathing racing as he watched every move you made. Lifting your hand to his face again, he let himself relax underneath your touch and his eyes fluttered closed. “Draco,” you said softly, the twitching of the corner of his lips motivating your next move. His stature was slightly taller than you, making you put all your weight on your toes as your lips touched his cheek, “Draco,” you repeated, your lips moving down to his jaw, “Draco..” 

You gasped as his hand suddenly gripped the wrist of your hand resting on his cheek. He opened his eyes, a confused look swirling beneath the blue but you never got the chance to see beyond the confusion before his lips crashed against yours in a breathtaking kiss. You stumbled back at the impact, but he wrapped his arms around your waist to steady you. Your lips moved in sync, the kiss rapid and intrusive. He pushed your body up against the large tree trunk, your head hitting the bark and your breath hitching in your throat. “D-Draco,” you stuttered against his lips, trying to push him off you to catch your breath, “What are you doing?” 

“I… I just wanted to feel something,” Draco mumbled, almost feeling guilty for kissing you and his eyes casted downwards. He tried to step away from you but you clasped your fingers around his wrist and stopped him. He glanced up at you, the swollen lips a reminder of seconds before. 

“How did it feel?” you asked, a smile twitching at the corner of your lips. 

The overly confident and obnoxious man that you once knew was nowhere to be found, seemingly lost in the October breeze. When Draco resulted in silence as his answer, you closed the gap again and connected your lips in the second kiss of the evening. This one was more delicate and you could tell he wasn’t expecting it, it took him a moment to kiss you back. Your hands slipped into his, your fingers intertwining as you lost yourself in his touch. He broke the kiss, his head nuzzling into the crook of your neck as he breathed in your scent, “It feels like a new life,” he finally answered, his heart hammering against his chest, “but please answer this, will you forget about it in the morning?” 

“Never.”

[onceupona-chaos]

Feathers and dawn (part II)

Day 18 of Elriel month/ Teach me how to fly

You can read part I here.

"Spread your wings." 

The moment Elain opened her wings, the cold, impetuous wind hit them, and the full impact made her lose balance, almost falling backwards. Instead, she met Azriel's chest, his hands tightened on her waist, and her body went cold and hot all at once.

This time Elain did stop breathing. 

WC: 4164/ Warnings: Language

(I had so much fun writing this! As usual, sorry for any mistakes, English is not my first language. Sorry for any typos as well, but I can't look at it anymore lol)

Elain had held that light inside of her with everything she got, and even so it came close to controlling her rather than the other way around.

She still could feel it, not the light that shone so bright to blind someone's eyes, but more like a gracious flame of a candle in her chest. But that was nothing compared to how the muscles on her back burned.

When her eyes cracked open, she was half expectant that all of it had been a delirious dream or one of those visions that still hunted her from time to time. But then she tried to move to a sit position, and a scream escaped from her throat at the very, very real pain punishing her upper body.

Her entire back was sore, and she could feel a complex extension of muscles - from her neck to the end of her spine - that was now linked to two massive weights coming out of her shoulder blades.

Excruciating, blinding pain.

Elain didn't notice the tears falling down her cheeks, couldn't even hear the sounds coming out of her own mouth.

Strong, calloused hands were pushing her hair away from her sweaty forehead a second later, and then Azriel’s beautiful face was there.

He was like a hiding spot in the middle of a storm, anchoring her from her agony, even though his expression was contorted in worry.

Azriel's eyes were wild, lips forming her name, but she couldn't hear a sound. Pain was all she knew, making her senses numbed.

Black dots started to dance in front of her eyes, her head getting light, and hazel ones full of terror was the last thing she saw before the world bleed into darkness again.

_______________

The next time Elain emerged to consciousness, first she smelled the leafy odor of salvia. Then the feeling of gentle, experienced hands massaged the line of her spine while she was lying on her stomach.

Heavy eyelids opened to the Velaris sunset, shades of pink and purple coloring the blue sky were visible through the familiar floor to ceiling windows, making her recognize her room in the river house.

Elain caught a movement from the corner of her eyes, and she inclined her head slightly to see Azriel, kneeling beside her bed, worry still printed in his face, but his eyes filled with relief now.

His hair was in complete disarray, the dark locks pointed in different directions as if he had run his hands through it repeatedly.

“You’re awake,” he breathed.

Those hands, unfamiliar hands, were still rubbing her exposed back, the gentle touch soothing the pain.

“That’s Majda, she’s almost finishing.” Azriel must have sensed her confusion. “How’s the pain?”

Her mouth was dry and it was an effort just to make words come out of it. “Tolerable” she said, voice raw.

He just nodded and then they fell in a comfortable silence. It was always like this with him - no need for empty words.

Azriel just stayed there in his vigil, shadows curling around his ankles, watching her with those familiar hazel eyes. Not the blazing gold of Cassian's, but rather an embrace shared between warm brown and stark gray, with hues of emerald green that would stand out according to his mood.

Eyes as complex as Azriel's himself, candidly observing her whilst Majda worked, her hands putting the exact amount of pressure to soothe her muscles, the salvia tuning the sharp pain into a dull ache. She didn't touch Elain's wings.

Wings.

Even with their weights on her back, even with the feeling of that warm power in her chest, Elain still was prone to believe it all had been a dream if it wasn't for the pain.

When Majda finished the healing massage, she merely told them she'd come back the next few days to do it again.

The bedroom’s door clicked shut, and Elain was already trying to get up, Azriel immediately protesting, "You should stay in bed.”

"I want to see them" was her only reply. She needed to see, to look at them. To know they were real.

"Your muscles aren't strong enough to support the new weight -"

Indeed, when she tried to stand, her balance wavered and she toppled forward.

Azriel caught her before she could fall on her face, hauling her up. Gently, one of his hands passed behind her knees, the other around her waist, and he scooped her up.

Elain let her head fall against his chest, breathing his scent as he walked through the room. A few moments later, far more than was necessary to reach her mirror, he put her down, but remained close.

She didn't see her pale face or even care about the fact that she was wearing nothing, but a nightgown that reached the middle of her thighs. Not when two massive wings rested on the floor behind her, the soft, white feathers touching the carpet.

Elain turned around to see her back, to see the point where the skin ended and the feathering began.

They were beautiful.

But she never had felt more unworthy of something. She couldn’t even hold them up, couldn't even lift them from the ground. It had been so exhausting spent months trapped in that murky realm, visions blending together with reality, that she hadn’t want find out what else the Cauldron had given her, hadn't want to touch that flame burning in her chest, not when her own body felt foreign and now -

Only when she felt tears dripping onto her chest, Elain realized she was crying, exhaustion falling upon her as a blanket, covering her to the bones.

She stood there for enough time that the next time Azriel spoke, she had almost forgotten he was there.

Almost.

Because she always seemed to sense whenever he was around.

"I will teach you everything."

It didn't sound like an offer at all. His words were a promise.

Slowly she turned from the mirror to face him - and nearly sobbed at how lovely and fiercely his eyes were, almost shining with sheer compassion.

Compassion for her, yes. But also for an Illyrian boy who didn't know how to fly, who found himself all alone in a war camp long ago. "I'll be with you and I'll teach you everything."

She didn’t know what to say, what to make of everything. So Elain only took his hand, interlacing their fingers and squeezing firmly.

But then, a thought struck her. "Truth-Teller," she gasped.

A smile curved his lips. "It's with me," he said. "I went back to the Cave. Turns out, without the Orb, the wards were gone."

Relief washed over her. And guilty.

"I'm sorry. I should - ."

Before she could finish her sentence, Elain was again in his arms. Azriel chuckled, but hadn't missed how heavy her eyelids were getting. "Not your fault. You weren't exactly in position to remember it," he said while gently carrying her back to bed.

But before he could lay down the mattress, he stopped by the side of the bed, and turned to look at her. Every ounce of amusement gone.

"I thought…" his words died and he shook his head.

No trace of that mask he so often used, no sign of his usually neutral expression.

The look on his face was Azriel in his most raw state. And she could see it.

I thought I had lost you.

She wished she wasn't so tired as she buried her face in the crook of his neck and breathed, "I know."

He nodded. He understood.

He murmured as he lay her in the bed, "Sleep. I still owe Nesta an explanation."

Elain smiled sleepily, and mumbled, "Good luck."

Just when darkness came to claim her once again, Elain felt the ghost touch of a light kiss in her temple and the smell of mist and cedar. ___________

The next day, Elain was sitting at her usual spot by the window of the living room in the river house, the Orb laying on a desk right in the center of the room. What was unusual, however, was the many pairs of eyes glued to her.

Cassian's jaw was still on the floor by the time Amren, the last one to arrive, entered the room. Even her face went a bit slack when she took in the wings and some emotion sparkled in her silver eyes.

Elain tried not to blush, but all that attention wasn't helping.

Although Feyre had helped her before to retract and summon her wings, which she was grateful for, Elain didn't want to summon them in front of everyone, so she decided to just get straight to the point.

She didn’t know how Azriel explained what had happened to the others, especially to Nesta. But given the look on her face fixed on Rhysand and on the spymaster, a perfect I Will Slay My Enemies look, according to Cassian, Elain wasn’t sure she wanted to know.

But as for now Azriel just held her sister's gaze, his face neutral.

"So…" Cassian began, waving a hand towards her wings. "What the hell?"

"I think what he's trying to ask you is," Nesta gave a look at her mate. "Where did those come from?"

Elain took a deep breath. "Well..." She bit her lip, trying to choose her words in order to make sense. "After I found out what I was, I've never accessed the full extension of my powers. I knew the Cauldron had given me something else,something more, but I didn't want to find out what it was."

Rhysand asked, "Why."

"Because I was too scared," She replied honestly. That was all she could say. She didn't want to, didn't know if she could relive those days when she couldn't tell reality and dreams apart.

She glimpsed at Azriel, who was at the corner of the room, sorrow shining on his face while he gave her a reassurance nod.

"So when I grabbed the Orb, it… whatever powers I have just grumbled in answer, as if they were the same… they came to the surface. It tried to stop them, push them back, to let go of the Orb, but I couldn't… it trapped me"

"That's because they are the same," Amren said. As soon as the words left her mouth, Elain understood what lay on her eyes: recognition.

"What wicked sort of plans the Cauldron may have for the three of you," Amren went on, nodding to Elain and her sisters.

"Amren," Rhysand said, the voice of the High Lord. "If you know something, just tell us."

The petite female gave him a hard look, before turning to Elain. "The Cauldron didn't make you any Seer." Amren tilted her head, studied Elain. "He also happened to make you an Oracle." Her eyes were practically two blazing stars, and Elain had to fight a shiver, before asking "An Oracle?"

"That 's right, girl."

"What's the difference?" Nesta demanded.

"A different group of Seers… powerful ones", Rhysand murmured, running a hand through his hair. "I thought they were just a myth."

"They were as real as you and me, Rhysand," Amren said, shaking her head.

It was Feyre's time to demand, "Someone please explain."

"Before the High Lords, there was a time where this world lived in complete, unshakable peace," Amren began. "The Oracles were the great responsibles for this time of harmony, a group of Seers who used to celebrate life and pulled the threads of Fate. They travel through words just like we travel between courts, using their Seer powers to See and manipulate the future to their will… to prevent any cause of conflict before it even became a conflict. Subtle, swift creatures those females"

Elain wasn't sure if anyone in the room was breathing.

Azriel asked quietly, "How did they disappear?"

"No one truly knows." Rhysand answered. "The legends don't go that far."

"Common Seers have the gift of sight, but it's limited in its own way," Amren explained. "Oracles, however, have other sort powers as well and they can see further in the future, no matter how distant."

There was one question in Elain's mind, essencial and terrifying. "What is my power?"

Amren's smile was a thing of pure wickedness. "I guess you'll have to find out."

"But why the wings?" Nesta asked, brows furrowed.

Amren eyes softened a little. "Some claimed some of them heritaged from an unknown race of warriors. But not every one of them had wings. If you were blessed with them, they would call you the Leader. The others would fly on their winged horses by her side, travelling through the world and maintaining their balance."

Elain's head was spinning. "But what about the Orb?"

"I might have an idea, but I'll need to do some research in the Helion's libraries first." Rhysand shot his mate a look, his lips curving. "Care to join?"

Feyre only rolled her eyes.

Cassian let out a long breath. "So you're telling me Elain could see if a war is truly coming and stop it before it even begins."

A sick feeling gathered on her stomach, and she blurted, "No."

Silence.

"No what?" Amren asked thighly.

"No, I won't use my powers to play with Fate." She couldn't help the edge of rage in her words. "Espeacilly not when Fate itself had been playing with me all along."

Silence fell.

"You're right," Feyre offered at last, her voice soft. "It's your choice."

Gratitude washed over Elain.

"I want to learn how to fly, though" she blurted, glancing at Azriel, who was already smiling.

Feyre looked between them. "You'll find Azriel has… harsh methods, but they are quite efficient."

Rhysand, who had been just observing, suggested, "Maybe you, Feyre darling, can teach Elain, too."

"I will train her." Azriel's words were practically a snarl, challenge filling every one of them.

Elain looked at the shadows gathering around him as he stared at Rhysand, who just narrowed his eyes back. Strange.

"I'm sure Azriel is the better option to teach Elain, he was the one who taught me after all." Feyre was looking pointly at her mate. "But I can participate in a few lessons when they get tired of training alone." She said looking at Elain, eyes shining bright with an edge of mischief.

Elain ignored that.

"You'll have to build some muscles, you know that, right?" Cassian asked.

Muscles. It wasn't that Elain was opposed to that, but… she couldn't see herself as a warrior like her sisters. Surely, she wouldn't mind learning one thing or two, but...

"I'll help you."

Elain turned to her older sister, with raised brows. "I don't…"

"You don't have to learn how to use a sword, but I can help with your core muscles," Nesta offered.

Then, Elain couldn't stop the warmth in her chest - not from that source of power, but from pure gratitude. "Thank you."

Amren shocked her head and huffled a breath, edged with amusement, making Elain's brows furrow at that.

"A Made, reborn Fae and a Valkyrie training a new Oracle." Her lips curved in a feral smile. "Three Cauldron-blessed sisters, indeed."

Elain didn't have to use the Orb to know Fate had listened to Amren's words.

--------------

"Shit."

Azriel's curse hit Elain's ears, before her arm hit the rock as she fell on her face right into the lake.

They had been training for weeks now. At first, it was more about how to summon her wings and keep them up instead of resting on the ground.

Sometimes Feyre would join them, or even Nuala and Cerridwen made an appearance for what Cerridwen called "emotional support".

Which means they watched as Elain jumped just to fall right into that gods-damned lake and tried not to laugh. Cerridwen often failed spectacularly at that.

But after one particularly hard training lesson that ended up with more bruises Elain would care to admit, especially to her pride, Cerridwen had come to her room with a gift: a brand new and very pink apron with a winged fawn carefully embroidered at the front, the chain stitches meticulous done.

It was the most ridiculous apron Elain had ever seen - and she wore every chance she got with a stupid smile on her face.

But most of the time it was only Azriel and her. First they would stick to training, and she was able to focus only on the lessons. Until one day they had sat side by side at the shore, talking about everything and nothing, and, gods, she had missed him.

But then she felt that ravenous pull towards him and had to look away, before she could do something stupid again - and just like that she remembered why they had kept their distance in the first place.

She knew he desired her just as she desired him. She had seen the longing in his face, and had smelled his scent that night, darker than usual. Had read the hunger shining in his eyes as he looked at her.

But she had crossed a line he didn't want to cross.

Good thing now she had other things to worry about. Like ignoring the pain in her left arm, finding her way to the surface to get the hell out of that chilling lake.

But before she could do any of those things, Elain found herself looking at the sky and then the ground was beneath her.

And a very, very shirtless Azriel was by her side. "Are you alright?" he asked, wrapping his tunic around her shoulders, scanning for injuries.

Even with her teeth almost chattering off her mouth from the cold, Elain couldn't help but take one good look at his muscled chest, those intricate tattoos on display and she felt her face heating. Not from embarrassment, but from pure desire that was pounding in her blood, traveling through her body. All she wanted in that moment, and so many before that, was to touch him, taste him. Be with him, by his side.

She imagined what would be like to have that powerful body hovering over hers.

Then she blushed a bit at those thoughts, too.

"I"m fine," she blurted after a considerable time, enough to make Azriel blush as well. And make her consider throwing herself at the lake again.

To distract herself, Elain closed her eyes and accessed that flame in her chest, letting it shine bright inside her, waves of heat running through her veins and bones until she was no longer cold.

When she looked at Azriel, he was already watching her. He cleaned his throat. "You kept yourself on the air longer this time."

Elain raised an eyebrow, "I fell on the only rock in this entire river."

A gleam shone in his eyes.

Elain narrowed hers at him.

"Are you trying not to laugh?"

"No," he said, clapping his lips together.

Every pound of desire in her blood died. "You said it wasn't funny anymore after the first four times!"

At that, Azriel tipped his head back and busted out such a rich laugh, that even Elain couldn't stop the small smile on her own lips. "You are a terrible teacher."

Except that he wasn't. Azriel was patient and thoughtful. He had refused to let her practice anywhere but the lake, and when she said she didn't need to be coddled and could practice on land, he had scanned her face, so many emotions passing across his, and told her he wouldn't see her getting hurt.

So they practice on the lake. Every day.

That was weeks ago and Elain was starting to think she would never take to the skies. She still couldn't sustain herself on the air for more than a few seconds.

"What is it like? To fly, I mean." she asked, eyes fixing on the lake before her.

She felt Azriel's eyes on her. "It 's freedom." Truth echoed in his words.

Elain nodded to herself. "I can hear the wind calling me." Her wing ruffled as if in emphasis."I can feel every muscle in my body begging me to jump out of the windows and it just… it's getting harder to ignore."

Elain tried to stop the burning in her eyes, her voice was broken when she breathed, "Why me, if I can't even get close to being airborne for more than five seconds?"

Azriel kept silent for so long, she didn't know if he heard her, but she was too much of a coward to look at him. Didn't want to look at him, not like this, not again.

But then gentle fingers found her chin and slowly turned her head to meet hazel eyes shining bright as the sun above them.

"Come with me."

Next thing she knew she was taking his extended hand and he shot to the skies, his tunic flying from her shoulders while she was being cradled against his bare chest.

Even though he was made of muscles hard as rock, his skin was warm and soft as the finest velvet.

Azriel landed right on the top of one of the highest mountains surrounding Velaris, the city bursting with life so far below that it seemed one of Nyx's toys.

And Elain almost stopped breathing. "Are you going to push me?"

Azriel chuckled, but didn't answer. "Turn around and close your eyes."

"So you definitely are going to push me," she murmured, but did as she was told.

She didn't know what she was expecting, but it wasn't Azriel's large hands on her waist or the warmth of his body behind her.

"Spread your wings."

The moment Elain opened her wings, the cold, impetuous wind hit them, and the full impact made her lose balance, almost falling backwards. Instead, she met Azriel's chest and his hands tightened on her.

This time Elain did stop breathing.

Especially when Azriel's breath caressed the

shell of her ear. "Focus on the wind passing through your wings, how each feather answers to it. Try to understand its direction, its temperature."

So she did. And she could feel it. She could feel the most external layer of feathers absorbing the temperature impact of the icy wind. Could feel the most little plumes, so sensitive they could perceive the slight change in any air current direction.

She became aware of everything around her. But mostly of the heat emanating from Azriel's body on her back, of his thumbs now drawing small circles on her sides.

"When I was a boy, I used to think the same thing as you do now," he whispered. "I was locked away and had to suppress so many instincts…" He let out a breath. "These wings are yours and only yours, you command them. It might take some time, but you will fly and control your powers. Be patient. You can do whatever you want, Elain."

It was his words, the meaning. He believed in her, had always believed in her.It was that certainty that had her leaning into his touch.

She folded in her wings and tilted her head, slowly opening her eyes to find his beautiful face inches from hers, close enough for her to see the hues of green in his eyes.

"Thank you," she breathed.

Azriel said nothing. No, he just let every word shine in his gaze as he leaned down and brushed his nose against hers while his thumbs were still caressing her sides leisurely.

She sucked in a breath, eyes falling close as she lost herself at the pure intimacy of that touch. Elain's whole body went molten and she wanted nothing more than to melt against his chest.

But she couldn't cross that line again.

So she pulled back, just enough to look at his face and made herself say, "I think Nesta is waiting for me."

Shadows darkened his hazel eyes. "Right."

On their way to the House of Wind, she thought Azriel would keep silent but he surprised her when he said quietly, "Nuala and Cerridwen never told me you were training with them."

Despite everything, a faint smile curved Elain's lips. "You can't expect to know everyone secrets."

He lifted an eyebrow. "That's my job."

And Nuala and Cerridwen's, too.

"I don't want to be a warrior," Elain blurted. "But… maybe I can use my gifts - my sight gifts, I mean - to..."

A whisper of those shadows still filled his gaze, but Azriel gave her a small smile. "Like spying?"

Elain blushed. "Perhaps."

"You'd make a good spy, but you have to be patient."

Elain looked at him. At that male who had intrigued her and made her feel comfortable and safe from the very beginning. At that male who found her when no one else would, who had seen her. Had truly seen her.

No, she wouldn't cross that line now, but...

"I can be patient, Azriel," she breathed. Promised.

This time, hope shone so brightly in his hazel eyes that no room was left for shadows.

[unbreathable]

The magpie  ❃ B.Barnes

Summary : As the princess of a prosperous kingdom, you lived a life of luxury and happines. But when war is brought upon you homeland and you find yourself at the mercy of the enemy... just how far would you go to stay alive?

Pairing : Dark King Bucky x Female!Reader

Before you read, please understand that this is intended to be a dark fic. There will be noncon elements, violence, manipulation, lying, blood, gore, death and so much more. If you find any of these disturbing, please click away. 18+ only.

Warnings for this chapter : violence, swearing, rape.

Word count : 2.189

Credit : for the magpie image and the Bucky Burnes gif the credit goes to their rightful creator.

Note : Not me wanting to post something and then remembering I still have exams so yeah... Please take this chapter as a filler. I know it’s a little (ok, a lot) boring but after this, the actual story starts. Please bear with me, ‘cause I still don’t know what I’m doing but I’m trying. I also didn’t have the time to perfect it, sorry. But on the bright side, next week I’ll have a short break, so the next chapter would be better... hopefully. Also I should mention that English is not my first language so please excuse any typos you may encounter.

Thank you! I’m so happy. Really. I did not expect that first chapter to be so well received. Thank you! It means the world to me. I love you all!

 Also, to all the writers from this platform (especially the dark!fic ones) thank you !

❃ ❃

The darkness that surrounded you was terrifying. It was cold and hot at the same time. It also felt constrincting. There was something heavy on your chest that stoped you from getting that deep breath of air you desperately needed.

You woke up with a gasp. For a moment you felt like you were emerging from bottomless waters. It seemed that the world itself was submerged.You blinked, vision coming in and out of focus. Your whole body ached. It was an unfamiliar sensation, one that you were already dreading. You tried to move your hand, but found it way too hard to do it, and that simple move sent a wave of pain through your whole body. You groaned.

As you blinked one more time, your vision started getting dim around the edges. You felt like there was too much happening around you. There were lound sounds, graoning, screaming but there was also hushed ones, voices that were too shaky to even make one coherent sound. You felt confused. There was a numbing sensation that took over your whole body. It also came with a slight ringing in your ear. Someone was speaking to you, but you couldn’t even look at them, let alone make out a single word they were saying. Everything was either too loud or too quit. You wanted it to stop.

”It’s allright, child. Take a deep breath.”

Somehow, through all the fog that clouded your mind you understood the gentle comand. The buzz of the crowd started to register and as you fought the dizzness and nausea, your senses started to come to you. The first thing you took notice of, was the ruptere of moonstone yellow that illuminated the bat black sky. The second thing was the groaning and laughing of men and the cries of women. You tried to move you head but it made you too dizzy.

A hand rested on your head. You flinched. Even as familiar and gentle as it seemed you couldn’t help it. Your vision was still blurry, but you tried with all your might to focus it.

“Shh!” the old woman whose hand caressed your head, spoke in quiet voice. ”Don’t say a word.”

You furrowed your brows. You were sure you knew her, but the throbbing in your head didn’t let you remember every detail. Even so you felt like you could trust her, you felt somehow safe around her. You felt the same way one would feel around his mother.

Your eyes widened suddenly and your whle body lunged forward on it’s own accord. Your mother, the queen, the war, the king, the invaders. It all came back at once. A nauseating wave took over and you started to throw up. There was a hand at the back of your head, helping you mentain your equilibrium. You grimanced as you felt the bitter acid taste in your mouth and the burning sensation left in the back of your troath.

”Easy there child!”

You weren’t exactly paying attention to whoever was speaking, instead your still blurry eyes took in your surroundings. You were inside the citadel, you could tell that much. The light given by the torches was enough to see the ground that was polished with guts. A vile smell rose up from it. You wrinkled your nose in disgust. Moving you head a little, your breath caught in your throat. Hang all around the walls of the citadel, were heads of men that you knew. Of men that fought bravely to protect their homes and families. You felt sick. And as your eyes fell on the hanged head of Sir Gregor, you felt your heart stopping. If you could you would have screamed, but you were too numb all of a sudden.

A movement caught your eyes. Blinking the blurriness away and ignoring the ache you felt, you turned your face towards the foreign men. It was then, you realized the situation you were currently in.

Lined along the citadels walls were all the girls that were so unfortunate to be caught alive. Some of them were bound, while others were too terrified to move even one single finger. You watched them, even recognized some. Young, beautiful girls laidies and maids alike. At least, some people you knew were alive. You felt a little bit of hope making it’s way in your heart, only to disappear the next second.

Barbaric men were circling the girls like a wolf would his prey. Their hungry eyes were taking in their young bodies as if they were starved. You recoiled when you saw their hand touching their lower body parts through the clothes they were wearing. As a loud scream made itself herd, you averted your eyes.

A little too late though. You already saw that man tearing the top of one girl’s dress. You already saw her scared face as she made to cover herself. You already saw her being thrown to the ground, and her dress torn. You already saw the outline of one’s erect cock entering her without a second thought. And she wasn’t the only one. The screams were horrendous.

You moved back, pressing yourself against the cold wall of the castle, a sharp stone diging into your side. You were petrified. Your breath was too fast and too hallow. You felt like you could faint.

Strong, gentle hands squeezed your shoulders.

“Take a deep breath, princess!” the gentle and quiet voice made itself herd again.

You whimpered as you turned your eyes to the woman in front of you, without really seeing her. She mimicked your breathing till you understood and slowed down with her. Her hand took yours and she offered a sad smile.

”How did I get here?” you suddenly found your voice.

The woman you now recognized as lady Alice, looked away for a moment. She have been the wife of a lord, you remembered. She also have been there the day you were born, the day you painted your first portrait and the day you first learde how to dance. You remembered her as the one that teached you embroidery. A kind and beautiful lady. She was also the one that always stood next to your mother and supported her.

”I’m not sure.” she said as she looked around with teary eyes . ”If I were to guess I’d say you were lucky”

Confusion still filled your mind. But you remembered the way that man rised his fist. You didn’t remember him hitting you but the pain in your body was enough to tell you everything. You never felt anything like it. In a way you were indignated. You were a princess. No one had the right to put his hands like that on you. But as the girls screams started growing louder and louder, you realized that maybe you were indeed lucky.

You wanted to laugh. If this was what luck looked like, you didn’t want to know what no luck was like.

”They found other girls running in the tunnels, so they didn’t think twice about you.”

Something clicked. Now you understood why they didn’t ake an assumption of you coming out of that tunnel. You understood why you were here right now. They didn’ t think you were nothing else but a maid. But that didn’t explain who stopped that brute from killing you with his bare fist. At the reminder of what that man did to you and at your own helpness you trembled. Your head felt fuzzy and you felt like trowing up again. It was too much. You wanted it to stop.

And suddenly it did. All the buzzing, all the mocking laughter, all the grunts of the disgusting man, everything stopped. Only the cries and hiccups of the girls remained. But even those were silenced as one of the savages, annoyed by the cries, smashed a poor girl’s head on the cold ground.

“Shut it, you whore!”

You felt anger taking over you. Oh, how much you wanted the tides to be different. Your father would have head his head, and you would have had the pleasure to watch as his qrotesque face would have asked for mercy. You would have watched as his head fell beside his body. At the image you felt an odd satisfaction. Then you recoiled. What were you even thinking? You never thought about hurting a fly and now you felt strangely euphoric as you imagined someone’s death.

”Try to stay calm” the old lady spoke again, as her eyes were fixated on the main gate of the castle.

As it opened, all the thugs that were literally enjoying themselves not moments ago, kneeled. You raised your brows. The man that brought all of this upon you emerged from inside the castle.

Your castle. Your home. Your safeplace.

You felt again, the now familiar, sentiment of anger. Oh, how you wanted to wipe that mocking smirk from his face. You made to move forward, anger fueling your body and clouding your mind. But you had no power and as aching as your body was, you realized you’d have no chance. So when a hand tugged you back, you were actually thankful.

Cradled into lady Alice’s arms, you watched the king making his glory march. Seeing him so confident and being worshipped by his men made you realize that everything was over. That was it. Everything you knew was bound to change, and what made you want to cry was the fact that you could do nothing about it.

”It was a long fight… ” lost in your thoughts you nearly jumped when you heard the deep loud voice. ”One that could have been avoided if your old crazy king would just have accepted  that it was his time to go”

At the mention of your father you squeezed your eyes shut. How could this man even talk about the king of the most flourishing kingdom in that manner? How could this man even pretend that he would be better? You wanted to scratch his eyes out.  You wanted to see him bleed. You wanted …

”Do you want to know the fate of your precious king? Do you want to know what happened to the one you followed so blindly?” he jeered.

As he moved to one side , your eyes followed him. You saw him grabbing a sack and as he placed on the ground, you squinted your eyes to see whatever was inside. But as he took it out, you wished you had never been born. Your fathers head was held high in the air, by the one that killed him. You gasped for air. And as the men cheered you threw up for the second time. Tears were running down you cheeks, and you wanted to rip everything apart.

”Look at your king!” he laughed again like a maniac. It was a cruel, cruel laugh, one that you were sure would fallow you in your nightmares.

You trembled, and as king James threw the head away without a care, lady Alice’s hand covered your eyes. She whispered words of comfort in your ear but you were lost. Your hands found the ground beneath and you started clawing at it. You didn’t know what to do. You felt nothing and everything at the same time.

There were cheers from every men that was there and a mockery of laughter. You wanted to scream. To take a sword and put it through that man’s black heart. You almost wished you never woke up from that beating. This was unberable. The tears runned dry on your face. And as you let your head rest against the rocky wall, you hoped that this all was nothing but a nightmare. Maybe you were still there, at the back of the castle left for the wild animals to feed on. At that moment you preferred that. You would actually have been thankful for that. But you knew. The throbbing in your head and the pain your body was in, told you that you were very much alive.

”My men, you fought hard, and you deserve to celebrate!” you heard the dreaded voice again, but at this point you weren’t sure if it even stopped. ”So let us begin!”

There were cheers again, but they were merged with screams and cries. You somehow knew what that kind of celebration meant. The girls were dragged to their doom. Some of them were already sporting nasty bruises along their faces, but the savage men didn’t seem to mind as long they rutted into a young body. You turned your head towards lady Alice and her from her face expression you knew she had the same thoughts as you.

“Go princess!” her voice was nothing more but a whisper but somehow you heard it.

You made to stand up, hoping that in all that madness you would, by a miracle, go unnoticed. You had to get away, you knew that much. You had a promise to keep. Trying to mantain your equilibrium you made a step. But that was it, you didn’t get to take another. There was a hand on your throat and you felt yourself held up against the cold war. You coughed. Laidy’s Alice screams were cut short by the sword that turned her head to the side. You watched her hit the ground and when you felt you were running out of air, you meet the cold blue eyes of your captor. The same bastard that hit you, now was toying with your life for the second time.

”Hello, little bird!” you opened your mouth, wishing that you could tell every little thing you thought about the blond in that moment, but when the only thing you did was gasp for air, he continued. ”You know, you’re lucky you’re pretty or otherwise I would have made an example out of you” he laughed.

You started to feel dizzy and your vision was starting to blur again. You brought your hand up to his hoping to take a little of the pressure but he didn’t bulge.

”Now now” he tutted. “I do hope you’ll be a good girl” he tightened his grip as you fought for your last breath. ”You know, he wants the best, and you’re a true beauty even with that bruise I left on your face.” with his other hand he touched your cheek,dragging his fingers across your skin. ”Hell, I would have kept your for myself.”

When he finally lossened his hold you found yourself on the ground gasping for air. There was a burning sensation in your whole body and you felt like your heart was beating in your head. You bit your lip. And when the blond brought you to your feet by your hair, you held back a whimper .

”Aww, don’t be like that.” He smirked. ”You’re gonna get the chance to touch a king, you should feel honored.”

[buckystories-3]

Remember

Chapter 4

Remember master list

A/N: I am not sure if anyone is still interested but here is chapter 4...Sorry! Also very sorry about typos and spelling errors. 

     The winter soldier had been gone for almost three weeks now, and with him gone, a new type of training began for me. It started small. I would be pulled out of my cell and locked alone in a room with only a table in the middle. The camera was always in the same place, and I knew the mirror wall was not a mirror on both sides. If I squint hard enough I could see the glow of the lightbulb on the other side, and the tall shadows of the hydra men watching. The tasks they ordered were simple. Use my power to move whatever was on the table, sometimes small things like a pencil, sometimes big things like suitcases filled with heavy objects inside. I knew they were testing my abilities, seeing just how far I could go. When they felt I was ready for a challenge, they would move me to a caged-in yard. It was filled with different sized things like cars, big trucks, even concrete blocks. It felt stupid but I’d move whatever they wanted me to as long as I could stay outside and feel the sun on my skin for just one minute more. It was all very routine. Move stuff, then go. But then it wasn’t so simple.

     “707, pick up the gun.” Himmel ordered. I stared at the black gun laying on the metal table. I reached out with my shaky hand an-

     “Not with your hands 707.” I nodded, I focused my energy, radiating down to my palms, tingling in my fingers. Red energy glowed around them and wrapped around the gun, slowly lifting it in the air.

     “Good. Now aim.” I turned my body towards the red target across the room, the gun following my hands. I looked at Himmel, ready for his order.

     “Fire.” The trigger squeezed and the bullet flew striking in the center of the red circle. I moved my hand to guide the gun back on the table. A large hand wrapped around my shoulder and it took everything in me to not flinch away from his touch.

     “Very good 707. You may go back now. Rest up, you will have a challenging day tomorrow.” He said, his tone dismissive. I nodded and turned to walk out of the shooting range. Two soldiers were there waiting to take me back to my cell. I wanted to go back, and ask what he meant by a challenging day, but I knew I wouldn’t get an answer and likely end up injured for questioning his authority. I was taken back to my cell and stayed there until I fell asleep.

The next day began much the same as any other day. Wake up call, breakfast, and taken back to the mirror room. This is where things began to put me on edge. There were many people in the room today, and the mirror wall was no longer showing my reflection, instead it was a thick window with even more men in suits all sitting neatly in rows and leaning in close to each other to say things I couldn’t hear. Himmel sat in a chair in the corner, next to him was the table with a black gun laying on it’s side.

     “707 today marks a new chapter. We have seen your capabilities and they have exceeded our expectations. We only have one final test for you.” He stood up, picked the gun off the table, and slowly walked towards me. With one hand he grabbed my hand and with his other, he placed the gun in my hand. The cold metal weighed heavy in my palm and a terrible feeling sat in my stomach. The doors opened again as two soldiers dragged in a man, fighting on his knees. A cloth bag tied around his head to hide his face. They dragged him until he sat kneeled across the room. I looked down at the gun in my hand and back at himmel. No...they didn’t want me to-no, please.

     “I...I don’t understand..” I stared down at the gun in my hand, and tried to erase my assumptions from my mind. Himmel placed a hand on my shoulder, and squeezed.

     “Shoot him,” He said calmly, looking straight ahead at the man kneeled across the room. I looked up at the man, and then to himmel.

     “N-no..” I whispered, sweat beginning to form at the back of my neck from fear. Himmel’s hand squeezed tighter around my shoulder. His cold eyes slowly moved to mine.

     “I gave you orders 707, shoot him. Now.” He said in a threatening voice. I dropped the gun at my feet, and ignored every instinct in my body that screamed for me to self preserve and follow orders.

    “I have done everything you asked, bring me objects, I’ll move all of them, I’ll shoot as many targets as you want. But please, not this, I-I can’t shoot him, ple-” a slap across my face immediately shut me up.

    “I said shoot him!” Himmel yelled, and I flinched away from him. My body was on high alert, but I stood my ground and looked at him definitely. I would not shoot that man.

     “707 is no longer compliant. Wipe her, and we will try again.” Himmel stated, calm as before. My body instantly froze in fear, and I frantically watched as soldiers approached me. Before I could react, a blow to the back of my head dropped me to my knees and the world began to spin. I tried to refocus and get up but the soldiers were already grabbing my arms and dragging me up.

     “No please! I’ll be good, I promise!” I yelled at Himmel as I was dragged out of the room. I was dragged down the dark hall and thrown into the room, the chair sat neatly in the center. I am not going back in that chair! I screamed and with all the force I could muster up, threw my body against the soldier grabbing my arm. The action caught him off guard and I thought back to compat practice with the winter soldier. Focus! I could practically hear him shout in my head. I grabbed the soldier's arm and used my small size to roll my back on his, breaking his arm behind him. He dropped to the floor crying in pain. Someone grabbed a handful of my hair and yanked hard enough to slam me down. My head slammed into the concrete. I blinked furiously trying to clear my vision. I crawled backwards, desperate to get away from the group of approaching soldiers. Someone was yelling but the ringing in my ear wouldn’t let me clearly hear. I fist slammed into my cheekbone, pain seared through my face and before I could I breathe another fist slammed into my eye, blinding me. I tried to get up but received a sharp kick to my stomach. I curled in on myself to protect my body, as if I could.

     “Please stop!” I cried out, but the blows continued to rain on my body.

     “STOP!” I screamed at the top of my lungs, a chorus of cracks was heard all around the room. The room was silent except for the sound of my crying. A clapping echoed on the room. I opened my eyes, but I stayed still on the floor, the pain not allowing me to move. All around me were bodies laying on the floor, bodies of the soldiers, their necks all in unnatural ways. Broken and mangled in horrible directions. My hands glowing red. Across the room Himmel approached me, a big smile on his face.

     “Well done 707, you continue to impress me. This is more than what we could have hoped for.” He laughed and kneeled down by me. “There is the beast I knew was hiding beneath the innocent act.” He whispered low enough only for me to hear. Hot tears streamed down my face and shock took over my body. What have I done? I killed them...I killed all of them...I am a monster. Sobs wracked my body and escaped in pained screams. I curled in on myself, but a new group of soldiers entered the room and Himmel instructed them to take me out of here. A soldier approached me slowly. My eyes opened, and anger surged through me. I raised my hands, red dancing between my fingers, and I shoved the red energy, the soldier flew back and slammed into the wall with a sickening crunch. My body began to function on auto pilot as I did the same with any soldier that approached me. I couldn’t focus on anything that wasn’t survival. Soon the soldiers stopped trying to get near me and I leaned back against the wall, hiding my face from them.

     “Get him down here.” I could Himmel speak, and heard a response through his radio. I wanted to try and decipher what he meant but I was just too tired. I closed my eyes and let myself drift. A hand on my shoulder snapped me back to reality and I raised my hands, the red illuminating the dark room.

     “Hey, hey it’s me, it’s me, calm down.” The winter soldier held his hands out in front of me, showing me he had no weapon or intent on grabbing me. No, this wasn’t the winter soldier, this was James, I could see it in his eyes. His blue eyes meeting mine in calming waves. I could feel my body still shaking but the red glow was dimming around my hands until it was gone. He took a step closer, another, and one more until he kneeled in front of me.

     “You know I won’t hurt you,” he whispered so quietly only I could hear. His arms wrapped around me, the metal cold under my knees, and he picked me up quickly. I hid my face in his chest and let the tears spill.

     “I’ll take her back” he muttered to Himmel and the others. He stepped over the dead bodies scattered around the room and the soldiers stepped aside as he walked down the hall leading to my cell. It was a quiet walk and I breathed in his smell and my body soaked up his heat. He gently set me down on my mattress, he covered me with the thin sheet, and pulled a vial of clear liquid and a needle out of his jacket. Morphine, I was eager to feel the numbness again. I allowed him to do the same as he did last time, injecting the liquid in my arm. He stood up ready to leave.

     “You were gone so long,” I said quietly. He looked down at me, took a deep breath, and sat down next to me. It was hard to see him in the darkness, but I could still see his outline as he leaned his head back against the wall.

     “I had unexpected challenges.” he muttered lowly.

     “I just killed a lot of men, I don’t want to think about it. Please, I could use a distraction,” I prompted quietly, desperate to just hear his voice after so long.

     “ On my mission, I fought someone, someone that I knew a long time ago. I didn’t know I knew him until I hit my head pretty bad, must have knocked some memories loose or something.” He looked up at the ceiling, reliving his memories.

     “Were you close?” I asked quietly, I wanted him to keep talking, to stay.

     “I considered him my brother.” He closed his eyes and sighed, his body remained tense.

     “Do you remember his name?” I was afraid to ask, unsure if it would trigger him or something.

     “Steven Grant Rogers.”

[borderlinebeauty]

long overdue, this too tossed to the side. - TW , maybe . I can’t remember.

men. I hate men. sob bing. lots of sobbing as I s it at my computer and type this. cries out for help. literally and not one person can hear a damn thing. pecks on my keyboard, that’s all I ever have to accompany me. as I dive into a world I want to be mine. but will never have. fuck. I'm so tired of hurting. why can’t anyone hear me? why can’t anyone, save me? why is this myf ucking life? I could’ve been anything else and I'm this. could’ve been dead, yet the superiors chose to give me life. coulda died in ******** in a wreck but for some reason I was spared. could’ve died after the pills but they weren’t the right ones. so instead I live to bare this slow painful death of heartbreak. hmm let’s count. no actually we shall not, for sake of me not feeling like categorizing but I know it’s a lot more than three but for some fucking reason I'm still not out. I HATE IT HERE. I REPEAT. I FUCKING HATE IT HERE. I want to die. many of the days. some of the days. all of the days. none of the days. tf is a depression screening anyways. it comes and goes from my bones. it comes and goes from my mind. people are like cigarettes. I smoke them and I get an instant burst of pleasure. happiness. mmmm please won’t u stay. but people are like cigarettes so FUCK I'm one too. and these people are much better at discarding them than i. I am one that u see shriveled up on the sidewalk. people pass me by “wonder who smoked that one” “ahh there goes one of those butts” “ew gross!” but no one stops to really think about what it was before. it’s just another one of those used up butts that no longer served someone. yet at one point it contained so much. so much happiness. the pleasure. the flame. and too the the toxicity. but more importantly, it had what u wanted. but once it was gone I am yet a distant memory and then u light up the next as if I never existed. but u see I don’t do that. I can’t do that. my mind, a fucked up piece of shit it is, well it just cannot seem to do that. instead of tossing em I'll just keep trying and trying and TRYING until  burn my own damn fingers trying to light u up. OUCH. fuck YOU BURNED ME! well duh wtf did you expect you idiot? once u got what there was to get it you just toss it and on to the next. but I- but I can’t do that. well u must. otherwise this will always be where u end up. ...hm. I see. but I don’t wanna toss them out, but I also don’t wanna burn. why can’t someone be my pen? it’s just a matter of adding a cartridge to recharge and fuel us all. then we’re all happy. no one gets burnt. no one gets left. just needs a little shaping! but remember. as we come we must go. everyone is disposable. time’s up.

--- for the sake of wanting to maintain rawness of my reality I shall not fix the typos, this is me on the brink of a mental breakdown. normally I just cry cry cry cry cry and push through these moments. have thoughts to write but can’t bring myself to. today I tried to meditate to change my mind after a fucked up event but I just kept sobbing and then I said oh yea I wanted to write (this is after the thought of writing then pushing it aside to meditate then sobbing like a bitch and then pausing and then trying the meditation over and then we’re here). but I'm happy I did it. in a way it feels good but in a way I'm still numb. but I'm happy I could put my feelings to “paper” I'm happy I could share them with you all. maybe some of u have felt this way too. selfishly, I hope so. caringly, god I hope not. ...whatever it is, I hope this was something you enjoyed reading. I hoped u were able to feel my pain. but I hope u can walk away from it okay. and if not, you’ve got a friend in me 🤍

[nothingcomparedtotheothers]

Cryotherapy

I saw this prompt by @5am-the-foxing-hour​ and... well, here I am now... I tried... (sorry for any typos this may have)

Word Count: 2.123

TW: Blacking out, arguing, yelling, swearing (I think)

It started with an actually decent idea from Roman, surprisingly supported by Logan., which led to Virgil and Patton agreeing and somehow convincing Deceit and Remus to join them.

That’s how they got here. A building in The Imagination. They all needed it. Thomas had been stressed out, overthinking and anxious and it reflected on all of the sides.

They entered a room with what seemed to be six cabins around it. They all looked around, Deceit and Remus confused as they had no idea why they were asked to join the others.

“Okay, but how does this... crying therapy work?” Patton asked, looking at Logan as Roman snapped his fingers and left them all in nothing but shorts. Deceit, Virgil and Remus frowned at that but stayed quiet.

“Cryotherapy, Patton, is a cold therapy. We will enter these pods here and the cold will help us heal,” Logan explained. “So, is everyone-”

Before Logan could finish, Deceit spoke. “How cold, exactly?” he asked, looking at the Logical Side slightly tense, something no one seemed to notice.

Logan looked at him. “Below -148 degrees,” he answered, turning to the others before noticing the look of fear in Deceit’s eyes. “We will be in there for three to four minutes. Understood?” Everyone nodded. “I will stay out here to ensure that everything is alright,” he said. All the others went over to a pod, entering and starting the session.

It’s all going to be fine. It’s just for a few minutes. You can’t back down now after they’ve actually asked you to join. They won’t invite you again if you don’t do this. They won’t care anyway.

That was the only thing in Deceit’s mind as he entered the pod. He was terrified. But he had to stick around for the others to, at least, tolerate him.

With that, the nitrogen came out. A hiss threatened to come out as it hit him, quickly making his body temperature drop. It was excruciating. It was numbing. The cold pain numbed him quicker than it should’ve. First, he couldn’t feel his arms, wrapped around himself to try to keep some warmth. Anything. But nothing seemed to work as his knees buckled beneath his weight, forcing him to lean against one of the walls. Mistake. Next, it seemed like his entire body was shutting down quickly, something that had never happened before.

He glanced at his arms and saw some burns forming due to the cold. That was when his eyes began fluttering shut, attempting to force him into unconsciousness. He wasn’t going to give in. It was almost over. It had to be. Logan said three to four minutes... they had already almost passed... right...?

Just-

                         just a bit...

                                                       longer...

And, just like that, he collapsed.

A thud was heard from the outside and the other pods. Everyone immediately came out, looking at Logan for an explanation of what that thud was.

But Logan wasn’t the one to give an answer to their silent questions.

As if it’d been rehearsed, Virgil and Remus shot a look at each other, both wide-eyed. “Deceit...” Virgil muttered, rushing to his pod and opening it.

A hand flew to Patton and Roman’s mouth at the sight. How could that have happened? It was safe! Roman and Logan had made sure it was safe!

Logan went over and frowned, kneeling down. “Deceit?” he asked with the softest, least shocked tone he could muster. When there was no response, he sighed. “What happened?” he asked, turning to Virgil and Remus. “You two seem to know what’s wrong with him.”

Remus frowned. “He’s half-snake, you dork!” he nearly shouted, making Roman, Patton, and Virgil flinch.

Logan sighed. “Snakes are cold-blooded...” he muttered, pinching the bridge of his nose. “We need to warm him up before it gets worse,” he said before turning to Deceit again and noticing the burns. “That’s not good... Deceit?” he called again, a bit louder than before.

A quiet, almost inaudible whimper came in response and Logan smiled lightly. Deceit’s eyes slowly opened for a moment, meeting Logan’s before closing again.

“I... I may have a way to help,” Roman said quietly.

“You’ve already done enough, don’t you think?” Remus hissed, glaring at Roman darkly. Something no one had ever really seen. But it wasn’t like they’d seen Remus angry at all... ever.

“I’m not the one who grew up with him, you-” Roman shot back.

“Guys! Enough!” Virgil’s Tempest Tongue echoed in the room, shutting both Creative Sides up immediately.

“We’re listening, Roman,” Patton spoke softly, looking at the Princely Side. “What was your idea?”

“Well... I’m a prince. This is my kingdom- Remus, shut up or I’ll rip your face out with my sword,” he hissed as Remus went to interrupt him. “I, of course, have a castle. It’s not far. And we don’t have to walk there, I can get a horse or a carriage,” he offered. “There are fireplaces in the castle and plenty of blankets and pillows.”

Logan nodded. “That should do...” he said. “Get a carriage for us all so we can start warming him up on the way there.” He seemed so calm it made Virgil and Patton admire him even more than before. He wasn’t panicked like they all were. He wasn’t hesitant. Not even as he inched closer to Deceit and picked him up gently.

As soon as be was touched, a quiet noise escaped Deceit’s throat, curling up to Logan’s chest and sending shivers down the Logical Side’s spine at how cold he was.

Logan held him close to his chest, wanting to help him warm up in any way he could. He noticed that Deceit’s hair had bits of ice in it, bringing a frown to his face. Why hadn’t he said anything? Or Virgil and Remus? It would’ve avoided this from the very beginning.

Roman summoned a carriage pulled by four horses so that they’d go faster. He got in the carriage after the others and helped Logan get Deceit inside, who didn’t seem to want to leave the warmth of Logan’s chest.

Logan sat beside Roman with Deceit still curled up to his chest, and Roman began conjuring blankets and wrapping Deceit in them.

Another soft whimper left Deceit’s throat and his eyes fluttered open once again.

“Deceit. Hey, look at me,” Logan said as Deceit’s eyes began to close. “I need you to keep your eyes on me, okay? You’ll be alright.” Deceit hummed weakly in response and struggled to keep his eyes open as they got closer to the castle. “You’re doing really good, Deceit... keep it up,” he said.

Virgil and Remus kept sneaking worried glances at Deceit, wondering if he’d really be okay. Patton fiddled with his fingers nervously, not knowing what to do. Roman just kept conjuring blankets and wrapping them around Deceit, who was just now starting to shiver. Logan didn’t dare to move, not wanting to bother or startle Deceit, as he held him close to his chest.

“He’ll be okay,” a distant voice Deceit couldn’t pinpoint said. Then, he felt a warm cloth on his forehead. It felt heavenly if he was being honest.

“Are you sure?” a, still distant, but more panicked voice asked.

Deceit tried to say something, move, or even open his eyes. But he was freezing and he could feel unconsciousness tugging at him. What happened? Where was he? He was laying somewhere extremely comfortable. Probably a bed. But not his. His bed wasn’t as comfortable and his room wasn’t as warm...

A sigh was heard. “Yes, Virge. Roman, Patton and I are making sure of it, he’s in good hands,” the first voice said- who he now assumed was Logan. And Virgil was worried about him? Why? Whatever happened must’ve been bad...

He finally managed to open his eyes, fighting off unconsciousness. He looked around, wincing a bit as he moved his arm. That got Logan and Virgil’s attention and they turned to him.

Logan frowned lightly, walking over to him. “Deceit, how are you feeling?” he asked gently, pulling a blanket a bit further up to cover Deceit’s neck.

“C- cold...” As he said that, he shivered again, his teeth chattering a bit. He looked up at Logan, utterly confused. “What... what happened...?” he asked weakly.

Logan sighed. “We decided it would be a good idea to try cryotherapy... you know what that is?” Deceit nodded as much as he could manage and Logan proceeded. “We asked you and Remus to join us and you did. You all got in the cryopods and I stayed out to make sure everything went well... but you forgot to mention that you’re cold-blooded and collapsed in an almost hivernating state after less than a minute.” Deceit frowned, remembering everything up until that point. “You seemed to wake up a few times since we took you out of there and then blacked out on me.”

Deceit looked away for a moment, waiting for the dreaded question. He tried to come up with lies, which was useless in his state. Only making him zone out.

“... Deceit?” That snapped him out of his thoughts and he blinked in confusion, not having heard the question. “Why didn’t you tell us when we brought the therapy up?” Logan asked.

Deceit shrugged. “I’m tired...” he trailed off, trying to avoid the question. He looked at the door as it opened, revealing Roman.

“Oh- is it... not my turn yet? Am I early?” he asked, slightly taken aback by the fact that both Logan _and _Virgil were there.

Logan sighed. “No. You’re on time... try to warm him up, okay?” Logan asked, clearly concerned about Deceit’s wellbeing. Roman nodded as Logan and Virgil left.

Roman walked over to the bed and glanced at the fireplace, which didn’t seem to be doing much since the bed was too far from it. He turned to Deceit. “Hey, are you feeling warmer?” he asked gently as he sat on the bed, brushing Deceit’s bangs aside. He smiled lightly as Deceit leaned slightly into the touch.

Deceit shivered and nodded. “Y- yeah...” he trailed off.

Roman looked at all the blankets that sat at the end of the bed and all the pillows and smiled. “Don’t hate me for this,” he said, snapping his fingers, and making all the folded blankets and pillows suddenly form a pillow fort, right in front of the fireplace. “Come here...” he muttered, picking Deceit up, scooping him up from under the blankets and making him immediately cling onto him for warmth. “It’s okay. I’m taking you to a warmer spot.” He sat in the fort and laid Deceit down so his head was on his lap. “Wait.” He snapped his fingers again and Deceit was wearing fluffy black and yellow pajamas with his logo all over it. “Now you should feel better.” He smiled.

A low hum left Deceit’s throat and he hugged himself. “Warm...” he said, almost in a purr, curling up a bit.

Roman smiled and started playing with his hair, getting him to drift off without a fight or struggle. Deceit felt safe with Roman. He decided that the second before allowing himself to drift off.

After a bit, the door opened and Patton walked to them quietly. “I made you both some soup,” he said quietly, only above a whisper. He set the tray on a table and turned to leave.

“Hey, Pat...” Roman called just loud enough for Patton to hear him. “Get the others, I think he could use some group cuddles.” He smiled. Patton’s face lit up at that. “I’ll wake him up in the meantime.”

The sound of the fire crackling and Roman’s soft and gentle voice were the first things Deceit registered as he was slowly pulled back to reality.

“Deceit... wake up, you have cuddles awaiting you,” Roman said softly with a small smile. He ran a hand through Deceit’s hair careful not to scare him. “Oh, look. Logan’s here already.” He smiled as Logan walked into the room.

Deceit whined and opened his eyes, glancing at Logan and shifting a bit so he was half sitting and cuddling up to Roman.

Roman smiled and picked him up so he was sitting on his lap, letting Deceit cling onto him. Logan walked over and sat next to them.

Not long after, the other three came inside and cuddled up to them. Patton grabbed a blanket and put it over Deceit.

The instant relief they felt a couple of hours later was indescribable when Deceit uttered the words. “M’hot...” while he was half asleep, letting go of Roman’s neck and shifting a bit so he wasn’t as warm anymore.

[deadrobinthoughts]

⤙ sober | jason todd

warnings: drunken stupidity, mild sexual content beta’d: nah request: nope! a/n: a re-write because i’m inactive im sorry part 48469 please mind typos

The drunk mind speaks the sober heart.

‘And what the fuck is that supposed to mean?’

‘It means you can’t go one second without flirting with someone!’

The exchange hadn’t begun until you were a couple drinks in and your boyfriend brought up how he didn’t like the way one of your friends spoke to you. It was a conversation that should have been had with ease and thought but turned into something nasty when alcohol was added to the mix. Two different people emerged at night when these things happened, leaving you both a mess and wanting nothing but to leave.

‘Do you just want me to get rid of all my friends then? What about all the people you hang around with? You aren’t innocent in this!’ You hissed, knocking one of the glass bottles off the table to shatter onto the ground and it had happened so many times in the past that neither of you flinched.

‘That’s not- I didn’t- Why are you even being like this?’ He was getting frustrated and it was obvious with how he pushed his hair back and clenched his jaw, ‘I’ve kind of got a real social job, do you expect me never to be around anyone? I have to be! But what the fuck have I ever done?’

He was right. That sober part of your mind told you that and anytime he was with people, he was moderately friendly and work was something you knew he had to do.. You, on the other hand, were scared. Just like him. Scared that one day this would all get old, that one day you’d both walk away and never come back.. scared, even, that the other would disappear off to someone else.

But it didn’t end there, the insecurities grew and came out the more you both drank to numb the previous battle. The night drew to an end as you disappeared to the bedroom and he disappeared to the spare, leaving that empty feeling of sleeping alone to settle within both of you.

When morning arrived and you stepped from the room, you were greeted with a nightmare. Bottles broken on the floor, the couch pushed crooked and even a lamp lay in a heap on the floor from where it had been thrown at the wall. Your head throbbed and you just sank down to the floor to sit, not wanting to risk getting glass in your feet. Everything was loud and annoying to the point your head didn’t even raise when you heard the familiar sounds of shuffling around the apartment.

Soon enough you felt a body next to yours and an arm go around your shoulders as a cold bottle was carefully fitted into your hand. ‘Drink,’ was all the latter said, hand moving to caress the skin beneath his thumb.

It was routine and it was getting tiring. You were both tired of promising the other things would change when you sobered up; promising to start over when you both had clear minds.

‘We can’t keep doing this,’ you mumbled, taking a sip from the bottle with a grimace, already past the point of crying over the situation. It had happened far too many times and you could no longer bring yourself to feel broken or give it the emotional outbreak it sought out.

Jason was quiet for a while, simply tilting his head to press a kiss to your shoulder, taking the time to look and scrape for the words to make things better; another, hopefully not empty, promise. ‘We say that yet it happens again,’ he began, a weak chuckle following, ‘I can’t.. say I love you when I’m sober then throw it all away when I’m not.. what’s the point of all of this..?’

‘Does that mean you don’t fully love me?’ you questioned and you could practically hear him rolling his eyes, ‘We need to.. figure something out. Learn to bring things up, communicate without the need to drink. A..are we so broken that we need alcohol to be honest with each other?’

‘We really suck, huh?’

Lifting your head to look at him, there was a deep frown on your lips and you had to resist the urge to push him off of you at the cheeky little grin you saw. ‘You suck,’ you muttered, leaning to nuzzle his cheek, ‘We need help.’

Knocking your foreheads together, he sighed and pulled you closer. ‘No shit, I thought we were perfectly fine,’ he answered, earning an elbow to the ribs that made him groan, ‘Therapy? Alcohols anonymous? What are we supposed to do? Just.. start over?’

‘Yeah. Let’s.. let’s just start over. No alcohol.. we have to talk.’

‘In our defense, we do talk.’

‘You throwing a lamp at the wall is not talking, mister.’  

Silence fell over you both and you were glad neither of you often had company, meaning no one saw this little part of your relationship that stayed behind closed doors. Words didn’t come easily to either of you but emotions did and they came strong, resulting in far too many backfires in attempts to talk. It had crossed your mind to seek the attention of someone else and you knew he was the same as that had been one of your late night discussions, resulting in a lot of crying the morning after. ‘So.. are we going to at least continue the way this normally goes?’

The words were accompanied by a hand sliding around your thigh to dip between them and really, it took everything in you not to let your eyes roll to the back of your head in amusement and some annoyance. ‘Fucking hate you,’ you breathed out but didn’t stop him, just let your head tip back against the wall. Happy with your response and the lack of heat the words held, he was already shifting around to be in front of you, pulling your pajama shorts down with a faint smirk. ‘Just give me a few seconds, I’m sure you’ll be saying something different,’ he cooed softly, pulling you forward by your hips.

‘Just- shut up before I change my mind.. we’re still looking for a therapist later,’ you barely got through the sentence when lips met your inner thigh and your fingers were already sliding through his hair, ‘y-your mouth isn’t magic enough to just rid of us t-this fo– fuck!’ The words were cut and you ended up letting out a sharp whine, practically melting back into the wall. You didn’t get a verbal response from him but you didn’t need one, too long in how he worked you.

You both really hated being drunk but you weren’t complaining about the sober makeup sessions that followed.

[cucumbers-and-olives]

1950

Summary: based off the song 1950 by king princess

Category: angst, angst, and more angst (sorry not sorry)

Fandom: JATP

Paring: Julie x Reader

Word Count: just shy of 1k

Warnings/Includes: typos, one mention of drinking

A/N: @gifted-burnout asked for it in this post. hope this fulfills your wishes! (also i wrote this in under four hours i had no idea i could write that fast wow)

Mandatory Thanking of the Betas: i didn’t let y’all read this, so i’m crossing my fingers that it’s good rn

AO3 link here (not on AO3 yet)

Please don’t repost my work without my permission, in part or whole. My work can also be found on AO3 under the same username. Thank you!

(keep reading)

“This is a song I wrote recently. I’m gonna dedicate to someone very special,” You paused scanning the audience for Julie. She was late, again. “Anyway, hope you guys like it!”

You nodded to the band, and the soft clattering of instruments filled the room as you prepared to sing.

I hate it when dudes try to chase me

But I love it when you try to save me

'Cause I'm just a lady

I love it when we play 1950

So cold that your stare's 'bout to kill me

I'm surprised when you kiss me

So tell me why my gods look like you

And tell me why it's wrong

The soft clattering of the doors opening drew your eyes. Julie moved through the audience softly, finding her seat in the front row. A smile filled your face. No matter how late she was to your performances, she always brought a smile to your face. The chords in the background brought you back to reality and you continued to sing, your eyes fixating on her, her hair shining in the soft light that reflected into the audience.

So, I'll wait

For you

I'll pray

I will keep on waiting for your love

For you

I'll wait

I will keep on waiting for your

Did you mean it when you said I was pretty?

“She’s cute,” Carrie remarked. “Do you have a crush on her?”

“On who?” Julie asked, her eyes fixed on you as you spun around the room dancing, a random song playing in the background.

“Y/N, of course! C’mon, do you have a crush on her?” Carrie asked again, nudging Julie.

“I- Yeah, she’s pretty, and kind and sweet. I love hanging out with her and her songs-” She cut herself off, turning to Carrie. “Oh my god.” She turned several shades of red.

“You have a crush on her!” Carrie sang, and you turned your head to the two, trying to hide that you had been listening in on their conversation.

“Who does Julie have a crush on?” You said, looking over at Julie.

“Just this really pretty girl,” Julie said. “Now you guys need to go, the band’s coming over in a bit to practice,” She ushered the two of you out and closed the garage door behind you.

“Carrie, do you know what that was about?” She didn’t respond as she slung her bag over her shoulder, a smug smile resting on her face as she walked away.

“Carrie!”

That you didn't wanna live in a city

Where the people are shitty

I like it when we play 1950

So bold, make 'em know that you're with me

Stone cold, will you miss me?

So tell me why my gods look like you

And tell me why it's wrong

So, I'll wait

For you

“We can’t hold the gig till she gets here,” Ramone said, as you looked out into the audience. It was your first gig. Your first real gig and she had promised that she would be here early. You softly practiced the chords to the song you had written for her, 1950. You wanted her to be in the crown when you played it, but if she didn’t show, you had a backup to sing.

“Julie isn’t going to be here, and the stage manager just told me we need to be on in five minutes,” Rudie said, patting you on the shoulder. It wasn’t much, but it showed that he cared. And that he would have a bottle of beer for you to chug later.

“She promised, Rud. She-”

“Yeah, I know kid. But we need to go on.”

“Okay,” You said slowly, dropping your phone onto one of the benches before welcoming the crowd that you hoped would numb your feelings.

I'll pray

I will keep on waiting for your love

For you

I'll wait

I will keep on waiting for your

I hope that you're happy with me in your life

I hope that you won't slip away in the night

“Where are you going?” You said as the light turned on in your room. Julie was on the floor, looking for something.

She picked up a few things before finding her phone. She looked up at you with sad eyes. “I gotta go- my dad doesn’t know I’m here.” She crossed the room to the door.

“Stay,” You grabbed her hand. She met your eyes as she looked up. “For me. We can deal with your dad in the morning, okay?”

Her hand slipped off the doorknob slowly. “Okay, for you.”

You tackled her onto the bed and she let out a soft giggle. “I make you happy?” You asked, surprised at her laugh.

“Of course you do! Did you think that I wasn’t?”

“You never said it, so I didn’t know.”

She took your face in her hands. “You make me happy.”

I hope that you're happy with me in your life

I hope that you won't slip away

I hate it when dudes try to chase me

I love it when you try to save me

'Cause I'm just a lady

So tell me why my gods look like you

And tell me why it's wrong

So, I'll wait

For you

I'll pray

I will keep on waiting for your love

For your love

(For you)

I'll wait

I will keep on waiting for your

The song ended, and applause and shouts filled the room. But it didn’t matter, because she had left already. It made you doubt if she had ever been there at all.

-

JATP: @n0wornever @unsaidmegan @calamitykaty @screwunsaidemily @crybabyddl @badwolf00593

All: @funsizearsonist

[a-problematic-writer]

It was a pretty Autumn day. The sky cloudless and a perfect deep blue. Pleasantly warm and just the slightest whisper of a breeze. A perfect day for the park, for a trip to the lake, to go to the local super duper mart to buy a costume for Halloween. An unassuming kind of day, one expected to go as mundane as any.

One that should have been mundane.

One that wasn’t.

Jesse was at the kitchen table, enjoying a midday bowl of Sugar Bombs and reading the latest issue of Grognak the Barbarian. A normal routine these days.

Jess had flipped on the TV some moments ago needing the background noise. The monotone drone of the announcer came through in a buzz. Jesse continued her comic. A dog barked in the distance. The news anchor droned on...

Then something shifted. The news anchors usually upbeat voice grew grim. Jesse raised her eyes. The dog went silent.

“Followed by... yes, followed by flashes. Blinding flashes. Sound of explosions... we’re... uh we’re trying to get confirmation,”

Jesse’s breath stilled, something cold and numb washing over her.

“But we seem to have lost contact with our affiliate station...”

There was a pause. Nothing but silence and then;

“Yes, we do have... coming in... that is, uh, confirmed reports. I repeat, confirmed reports of nuclear detonations in New York and Pennsylvania as well as one heading for Boston,” the news anchors voice dipped and then trembled, “My God...”

The world stilled. Jesse’s breath hitching as her fingers involuntarily laxed around her spoon; the utensil dropping into the milk and splashing up onto her shirt and table. She blinked once then twice. The stillness shattered with a shriek from someone she could only assume was her neighbor. The TV now only showed the standby screen.

Jesse pushed herself up from the table quickly and bolted for her door. She was greeted outside by her neighbors all running up the street. Momentarily, she was confused then her eyes caught on the Vault-Tec billboard.

The vault.

She broke into a sprint falling in line with the rest of the panicked crowd all along watching the sky. She couldn’t see the missile. Perhaps that was a good thing. There was a dense crowd leading up the gated, guard-protected entrance. Jesse weaved her way to the front, mind blank.

“Name?” the guard asked firmly. Jesse blinked eyes darting to the sky. Searching for the missile and finding nothing once more.

“NAME?!”

She jumped and stuttered out: “Jesse Lawrence!”

The guard flipped through a clipboard quickly. The was a clamor from the crowd. A cacophony of panic. Jesse’s gaze shot to the skies again. Nothing.

“No ‘Jesse Lawrence’ on the list.”

Jesse blinked. “What?”

“There is no ‘Jesse Lawrence’ on the list. Just Tanya Lawrence and Alvin Lawrence.”

Jesse blinked again. “There has to be a~”

Before ‘mistake’ could leave her mouth, Jesse remembered that when her mother and father applied for entrance to the vault that her app had been declined... over a typo in her birthdate.

They had planned to clear that up the following week; after her parents got back from California...

“I’m gonna have to ask you to step away from the gate, miss,”

Jesse inhaled sharply. “But...”

“Or I will use force to make you.”

Jesse jumped back with a yelp as the soldier lifted their gun, her hands up as she backed away. She turned on her heel afterward. Everything numbing as she absently made her way back down the dirt path into town. She passed neighbor after neighbor that was scrambling up the path to the vault that was an annoyance but now salvation.

She stopped at the oak tree in the middle of the culdesac. Her eyes finally lifting to the sky. Nothing. Maybe they had been wrong. Maybe this was just a scare. Maybe nothing was wrong...

Someone else shuffled up next to her. Jesse’s gaze cut over to them and she blinked.

She had went to school with him. They were part of the same graduating class. She had only recently found out they only lived a block from each other. She found her heart aching. He must have been denied entry too.

His eyes turned to her. She always remembered the young man looking tough, cocky, mean. Right now, he had tears glistening in his eyes and a tremble in his frame that matched her own. They just looked at each other for awhile.

“Jesse, right?” his voice shook. It wasn’t at all what she remembered.

Jesse nodded. “Was it Aiden or Aymin?”

“Aiden.”

It went quiet between them or as quiet as hysteria could be. Aiden had always been a bully. Though he had mellowed out in about 10th grade. From then, they were just acquaintances. Jesse had paid him no mind and he paid her none in return. She had always wanted to try making friends with him. The opportunity was just missed and, now, was gone forever.

“Why aren’t you in the vault, Jesse? I know I saw you and your parents at the vault-tec office.”

She frowned gaze darting away from him. “There was a mistake on my application. I wasn’t put on the list.”

“I’m sorry.” he murmured.

“Why aren’t you?”

“There were only three spots left. So I chose to stay while my sister got into the vault.”

Jesse blinked at him. She hadn’t taken him as the selfless type.

“I’m so sorry.”

“It-it had to be her.”

Silence stole in again. Something flashed in the sky. Her breath hitched.

The missile had entered the atmosphere.

She watched the smoke trail from the tail of it. They had all feared this day. The day when tensions grew to taut. When the war would finally destroy them all. And here they were standing in the fire. She wondered if her mother and father were safe.

She wondered if they knew she wasn’t.

Her legs gave out from under her and she landed on her knees in the dirt. Aiden knelt down with her. They watched the missile’s distance grow closer and closer to the ground. A air strike siren could be heard in the distance. The ground rumbled as vault 111 closed its doors. Jesse could only think about everything she didn’t do. She didn’t get to tell her mother and father ‘I love you’ that day. She didn’t get to know the boy next to her.

A hand connected with hers. She turned to Aiden and he turned to her. Their fingers interlaced. She decided to only look at him. There was a flash followed by an explosion.

And then nothing.