#Gracefully walk away | Explore Tumblr posts and blogs

kamitv · 6 months ago

Note

could you write about who you think are the most touch/affection-starved of the jjk boys? the thought of them crumbling at the slightest touch and savoring every second with us makes me 🥴🥴🥴

▷ Delicate

Sypnosis . Men who fold under your touch. / Pairings . (Separate) Nanami x f!reader, Choso x f!reader, Ino x f!reader / Content . afab!reader, established relationships, fluff, begging men, sensitive men, soft sex, filth, dirty talk, etc. / wc . 4.8k

A/N: Grieving over the loss of my man right now-- Gege I hate you and the air that you breathe. This was going to include more men but due to the loss of my lover, my mood was ruined and I couldn’t finish what I had for the others… Anyway, not proof-read, hope you enjoy! ^.^ [MDNI]

★ Nanami Kento

While it may be a bit... unexpected, yes, Nanami is sensitive to your touch. Each one lingers on his skin, seeps through his clothing, and tattoos itself onto him.

He's a very stoic and, usually, stern man but when it comes to you, he's almost like putty under your touch. It's intoxicating really, the way you're always caressing his arms, grabbing his hand to hold when the two of you walk or even during sex.

You're quite the touchy woman and Nanami can't say he doesn't love that about you.

When he comes home after a long day of work, you'd rush to the door to greet him, dressed in your comfort clothes from head to toe with that bright smile of yours latched to your face. Your hands are on him instantly, helping him rid himself of his coat, his tie, hell, even his shoes sometimes if you're feeling enthusiastic enough.

It's cute really. The way you help him undress as soon as he steps into the house, asking him how his day was and reciprocating with a not-so-eventful tale of your day. He's listening to your every word though, hanging off every syllable even, but you don't notice it.

Even as you guide him toward the kitchen to show him a surprise dinner you'd whipped up, you're rambling about something concerning your cooking process and he's hearing every word but, the way your fingers slip down his arms, curl around his wrist to pull him along, release him and then press into his chest to stop him from walking-- it was truly alluring.

Nanami swears he wasn't always this sensitive to touch. He doesn't know why exactly his heart swells in while you keep your hand flat on his chest, your attention on some nearby pot as you continue to talk.

You were explaining something but he'd stopped listening, his eyes all over the side of your face and soon trailing to your arm, and then to the hand you've got on him.

Nanami's hand would be moving before he even realizes, slipping so gracefully to your wrist and moving your hand off of him just to lean down a bit and plant a loving kiss across your knuckles.

"And then I almost-," His sudden kiss would make your brain freeze, head whirling in his direction to see your husband planting peck after peck before he shifts your hand to cup the side of his face and then meets your gaze.

Those gentle brown eyes of his would be so sappy and soft with you, filled with a love you can hardly comprehend as he rests his head against your palm, grinning at you. What a handsome man you've married.

You couldn't be happier as you look at him, even with the sigh that leaves you, "Kento..."

His brows would raise ever so slightly, "Hm?"

"Did you hear anything I just said?" You'd huff out. And there's this slight frustration in your voice but he loves it anyway, completely and utterly smitten for you no matter the situation.

Nanami nods, just barely, before turning his head and kissing the inside of your palm, "Mhm," He hums casually, "You were telling me how you almost burned our kitchen down."

"Yes, and..." Your eyes narrow at the man, watching how he just kisses and kisses your palm, almost as though he couldn't pull himself away, "Ken..." Your hand slips a bit and you caress his face, "Are you okay?"

His hand, much veinier and larger than yours, would come up and cup yours over his face, "Yes, yes, I'm fine. Your touch is just so... soft."

That earns a smile from you, "Is it?" You'd giggle amid your question, eyes lowering at the man before you.

"Yes, it is," Nanami responds simply. Then he begins moving your hand to the side of his neck and his head tilts as he looks at you, stepping closer and closing the slight space between you and him, "I love how gentle it is, how loving, how caring."

"Oh?" Your smile widens and you move your other hand away from the, now forgotten, pot and it goes toward the buttons of his shirt, "Should I start touching you more then?"

"I implore you to, yes," Nanami huffs out, his body leaning toward yours.

You bring your lower lip into your mouth and tip your head a bit, one hand toying with the buttons of his shirt and the other caressing the side of his neck, "Since when has my touch had you this... pleading," You question, words coming out slow as his eyes drop to your lips.

Your husband takes his other hand and grabs a careful hold onto your wrist, dragging your hand further down his body and making you feel against his abs through his clothing as he leans closer to you. His free hand then moves to your waist and he tugs you to him, closing any and all space left.

"Always," Nanami confesses to you, "Your touch makes me weak, sweetheart." He explains with that gentle yet deep voice of his, always so soft when speaking to you.

You smile, "Weak?"

"Yes, weak," Nanami whispers in agreement with a steady nod of his head, eyes doting on every aspect of your facial expression.

The man was so in love and his poured out of his every gaze, brown eyes lingering on your lips long enough to silently tell you what he wanted. So, your hand steadily undoes the first button on his shirt, moving your other hand from his neck to assist yourself.

Your eyes on his the entire time, you unbutton at least four buttons before taking a finger and grazing his bare chest, watching how his breathing stutters from something so light.

Smiling, "This, Kento..." Your voice is small in a sultry whisper as you drag your finger down and down until you pass his torso and reach the hem of his pants, "This makes you, weak?" You as tauntingly just before you begin unbuckling his belt.

His heart rate quickens and he swallows loud enough for you to hear, sighing as his head weighs to the side a little, "Hahh, yes, my love," Nanami tells you, face inclining down to your own.

Your gaze and his meet and the eye contact is heavy with tension, your fingers working his belt loose before you're teasing him by just barely unbuttoning his pants and making sure your fingers caress the area below his abdomen.

Nanami's lips twitch and so badly does he want to kiss you but he's too busy hanging off the slow words leaving your lips.

"Who would've thought?" You utter, smiling at your husband, "A serious man like you crumbling to your wife's small touches."

He tilts his head further and his lips are practically on yours as he speaks, "Small or not... they're touches from my wife." He emphasises just before giving you but a small peck on the lips.

You hum, "I suppose."

And then you're finally kissing him, lips molding into one another and his body melting to the feel of you. Oh how Nanami loves the way your lips part for his tongue to push through, the way you kiss him back with just as much passion as he approaches you with, and how warm and savory the inside of your mouth is.

Soft smacks emit from the two of your lips sliding over one another, your husband nipping at your lower lip and quick to kiss you like it's the last thing he'll ever do. Then his hands are grabbing a firm hold of your waist, silently telling you that you're his to hold and touch however he feels.

His fingers, large, veiny, and thick, feel you through the fabric of your top, unable to pry off of you once he's got you in his grasp.

Then, into your mouth so very lowly, h's grunting, "Undress me," Nanami orders as he slightly steps forward with you.

You step back accordingly and your hands are flying back up, unbuttoning the rest of his shirt and feeling him up afterward as you start slipping the item off of his body.

"Like this? Hm?" You whisper back to him as his shirt hangs off of him, his hands gripping onto you tighter and tighter whilst he walks you backward and out of the kitchen.

His voice makes your knees weak as his mouth detaches from yours and drops to your neck while you move to finally get his slacks off, "Yes, like that. Good girl," Nanami praises against your neck, soft but hot kisses making you gasp.

With your voice all breathy and your feet and hands stumbling with the large eager man before you, "C'mon Ken, at least make it to the bedroom," You murmur, his pants loose on his hips as he bulge brushes against your front.

"I'm trying." He groans, breath simmering into the crook of your neck before his tongue is felt against you.

You can't help but giggle, "You're trying?"

"Yes," He huffs out, voice hinted with this tune you rarely hear from him too often.

You're walking back and back until you bump into a wall for a second, your bedroom door now to your right as Nanami marks up your neck messily. Then you snicker, "Mmmh, I like you like this, Kento," You comment, to which he sighs.

Then he's off your neck and moving you to walk backward into your bedroom, clearly no longer patient.

Cocking his head to the side, "Like what?" Nanami asks curiously.

You shrug and the back of your legs hit the front of your bed, "Desperate, almost," You hum, brows furrowing a bit.

Nanami helps you settle yourself onto the mattress completely before he's crawling on top of you, shrugging his shirt completely off of his body and revealing his full chiseled physique to you.

"Starved?" He asks, trying to find the word you were looking for.

You shake your head and then it comes to you, your arms wrapping around his neck and tugging him down to you before you whisper, "Craving."

Nanami gazes at you for a long moment, simply taking you in before nodding his head slowly, "Craving, yes." He agrees.

Then, another long press of his lips to yours is made and your legs are adjusted to wrap around his waist, Nanami wanting any and all parts of you on him now.

His lips shift to the left a little and he kisses the side of your mouth, then your cheek, and then he drops to your neck again, making you do nothing more than smile as his hands work to get your clothes off of you.

Your top is soon removed, bottoms followed soon after, all of which is discarded to the floor somewhere before Nanami's kissing you again and forcing your hands to be on him.

"Run your fingers through my hair," He murmurs, directing one of your hands to his blonde locks of hair. Then, he takes the other hand and moves it to wrap around his neck, "Scratch my back while I fuck you," Nanami whispers, works making your breathing unsteady while he suddenly grinds his hard cock down into you, "Try pushing me away when it becomes too much, I don't care, just want your hands on me, okay?"

His directions had you hot all over, pupils dilated already, breathing heavy from his constant kisses, and your hands quick to run along his tensed skin before you nod with an obedient, "Yes sir." Leaving you.

Nanami just barely smiles and you feel his heavy cock twitch against you, "What'd I tell you about that?"

"I don't remember," You whipser, your fingers slipping down from his hair to caress his jawline and then pulling his face closer to your own, "Remind me, sir."

There's a smile on his face as his lips finally near your own again, "You'll be the death of me one day." Nanami utters to you lovingly.

And maybe one day you will.

But tonight?

Tonight you are nothing more than a hole for him to fill as he soon grunts into your ear telling you how good your cunt feels around him, telling you how pretty you look taking his cock, and moaning out how much he loves the way you touch him.

★ Choso Kamo

You always knew he was sensitive to your touch. Look at him. No, literally, look at the man. He's not sensitive to everything but your touch is most definitely his weakness.

You once gave the man nothing more than a handjob and he was cumming all over the damn place. You're not sure if you've ever seen your boyfriend so... whiney.

Choso had his legs spread like a slut for you as you sat oh so prettily beside him, fingers wrapped around his cock and stroking him torturously slow. Your thumb would caress his bulging veins, fingers would twirl around his fat tip, tap and slip in between the slit of his cock, teasing him.

And since you were sitting beside him, your breasts would graze the side of his arm, making him flinch over and over. You had him so tense, so sweaty, so loud.

Choso didn't even know he could moan this much just from someone's hand. He's jerked himself off plenty of times but when you do it, it's like blood rushes to both his head and his cock, his vision would blur, and his breathing would grow unsteady.

Maybe it's because of how you had teased him beforehand, running your manicured nails along his inner thigh as the two of you tried to watch a movie together. Only for your hand to accidentally graze his dick, somehow groping him through his clothing and then turning to look at him.

That was when he began to sweat buckets, cock springing up under your palm at one measly little touch and his breath hitching.

Then he was whispering a gruff little, "Baby," Making you smile as you did nothing but innocently bat your lashes at him. To which he'd tip his head back against the couch and swallow, "Stop teasin'..."

You then scooted closer to him, your thigh touching his as your voice neared his ear, "I barely even touched you, Cho," You had whispered, watching how even in the dim lighting, his face grew red and he struggled to keep his composure.

Turning his head to you, Choso was quick to meet your eyes with a low and desperate gaze, lids dimming, brows tensing, and breathing heavy. "Then touch me more, please." He requested quietly, deep voice making your cunt jump with excitement.

You quickly switched hands so that you could turn your torso to him, which was when your breast pressed into his arm and your hand then moved to work his cock out.

And yes, in minutes he was cumming in your hand, making such an embarrassing mess of your fingers. Your hand was so soft, jerking his twitching cock off so perfectly.

Choso was groaning into the air like he couldn't control it, "H-Hahh, aagh, baby-, baby fuck, y-your ha-hahh, hand-," His voice... squeaks? as he says that last word, pitching so deliciously that you have to squeeze your thighs together as you watch him tense up yet again, "S-Shit, m'gonna cum again," Choso breathed out through gritted teeth.

He was so sexy all sensitive and tense for you, making you smile as you watched his face twist up and his eyes flicker every time you focused your palm on his tip.

"Again, Cho? You're makin' such a mess, baby," You coo softly, breath just barely hitting his ear and adding on to the numerous things he was feeling.

His head was spinning at this point and he couldn't stop himself from watching your, much smaller, hand jerk him off, from quick pulls and tugs to slow drags and caresses, to twisting and rolling-- Choso was both in a daze and high off of watching you stroke his aching cock.

God damn you knew how to use your hand. You knew where he was sensitive, knew what to do and how to do it.

His cock was wet with cum and your hand just slide up and down and up and down, the sloppy sound filling the entire space and adding onto his arousal. Cum was slipping in between your fingers, all down to his balls-- shit, he really did make a mess.

It was nasty but... he liked it that way.

"P-Princess, fuuck, please," His voice was cracking, breaking because of you, eyes tearing up as your hand only got faster and faster, "Fuck fuck, please d-don't stop." He pants out, head flying back against the couch as his thighs closed and opened, almost like he wanted it all to end and yet continue at the same time.

Watching him had your body hot, there was a pulse coming from in between your legs and you had half the urge to get down on your knees and just suck him off since he was being so damn whiney.

But at the same time, you couldn't stop your hand. Not when he was about to cum again, not when you were about to drag the sound you were looking for out of him.

"Y'like that, Cho?" Such a simple question you murmured to him and yet it broke him.

Nodding all needily and fucked out, "Yes baby, yesyesyes," He gasps, abs tensing as your hand just would stop. You wouldn't let up on him for even a second and it was killing him, "F-Fuck I like it s'much-, I like you- love you," He corrects, struggling and stumbling over all his words, "Love your fuckin' hand-"

His jaw drops and the groan that leaves him comes from deep within his throat, "Ohmygoddd, fuck," Oh he was babbling for you, thoughts whirling, voice cracking and high pitched with you.

Then his lips quivered and that's when that noice came out. Such a cute, whiney, and filthily obscene whimper slipped out of his mouth, eyes at the back of his damn skull as he came all over your hand again.

And you had the nerve to talk him through it, whispering sweet, "That's it baby," To him and making him pant and his breathing stutter, your hand still going.

Choso couldn't formulate proper sentences with you anymore, barely chanting an almost silent I love you over and over until your hand stopped and his dick finally calmed down.

★ Ino Takuma

Is this even surprising?

Of course your cute boyfriend Ino is sensitive and affectionate starved. Sometimes he tries to act like your touch doesn't faze him but the very second it leaves him, he's giving you these doe-eyes and moving to put your hand back on him.

And it's just perfect for him that you enjoy touching him a lot. You're almost always hugging him or grabbing his face to pull him in for a kiss and he loves it.

So whenever you're away for a few hours, his body aches for you. You'd have your nails done too so that was something he enjoyed feeling more than ever, loving how your fingernails would run through his hair as he laid on your thighs or even in between them, face stuffed into your cunt.

Either way, Ino loved your touches and yes he craves it when you're not around.

So whenever the two of you do meet up, you're always running up to him, throwing your arms up and around his neck, laughing and smiling about how much you missed him.

Then you'd always tug that beanie off of his head, telling him how much you enjoy it when his hair is out and teasing him about looking silly with the accessory on.

He'd shrug off your comment and then as soon as you turn away from him, his arms are draping around your waist, chin resting on your shoulder and crotch pressing into your ass.

Your body would freeze in place as you feel something familiarly hard poking at your ass, turning your head to your boyfriend who you've barely even touched so far and raising a brow at him, "Takuma..." You'd utter softly, earning a grin from him.

"Hm? Somethin' wrong?" He'd ask casually, as if there's not a painful boner in his pants all because you'd hugged him.

"You tell me," You tease, moving out of his hold and turning your body around to face your boyfriend as you cross your arms.

He quickly raises a hand to the back of his neck to scratch, chuckling nervously, "I'm not sure what y'want me to say?" He hums plauyfully.

You tilt your head and him and sigh before moving to point at his crotch, "How about you start with explaining that."

Ino's head drops to look at where you're pointing to, laughing as soon as he sees himself, "Oh, that. Yeah, no, that's uh, that's nothing, really-," His head lifts and you've gotten all close to him again, head angled upward slightly to meet his gaze and your stare making him swallow all his words down with a loud gulp.

Your hand then moves in almost slow motion and you place but a single finger to his chin, tipping his face down some more to get a good look at him and then smiling. "Y'know you can ask me to help you, right? I am your girlfriend, remember?" You whisper.

He starts nodding like he's hanging off of your words, eyes set on your lips and his breathing picked up just because you've got a finger on his chin. "M-Mhm, I uh," He blinks a few times to gather himself, "I know."

You smile and step even closer, your body just barely touching his, "Takuma," You whisper yet again, causing a shiver to slip down his spine.

He was so nervous because of you, "Lover," He hums back.

A chuckle slips past you, "Lover? That's cute."

"Y'like that one? I've been brainstormin' pet names recently," Ino tells you happily, his voice soft with you due to the lack of distance between you and him.

"Yeah, that one's cute," You whisper as your lips near his, "But uh, we're not just gonna skip past this," You emphasize as your hand palms at his erection, making his breath hitch.

Ino's brows tense and so does the rest of his body, "Y'gonna take care of it, baby?" He whispers to you, eyes softening at you as you peer up at him so tentatively.

"You want me to?" You utter back, batting your eyes at him and feeling on his cock through his clothing.

"Yeah," Ino nods out, to which you give him this look and he swallows, quick to correct himself, "Yes... please."

Smiling, "How do you want me to take care of it, hm? On my knees? With my hand?"

Ino barely knows how to even answer your question, it always makes him nervous when you take the lead, not that it doesn't happen often but most times anything sexual between you two just occurs mutually.

There's not always someone in the lead and it's usually just the two of you trying to make the other feel good. Which is enjoyable of course but when you're like this? Asking him what he wants and yet telling him what you're going to do through your gaze?

Oh he's almost the one on his knees for you.

Which is how you ended up later sitting behind your boyfriend, head peering over his shoulder and arms wrapped around him so that your pretty hands could work up and down his cock.

He hardly remembers how he got into this position with you or what he said for you to even want to do this but, here he was; face red, moans pouring out, hips bucking up into your touch, eyes lidded and struggling to keep up with watching the way your two hands groped and jerked at his cock perfectly.

Your fingers and his dick glistened with spit and precum, the sounds of you giving him the best handjob he could ever have asked for loud throughout the room.

"Oh baby," Ino whines out, eyes nearly shut as he tries his hardest not to squirm too much, "That feels so fuckin' good, holy shit."

"Yeah?" You smile, "My hands feel good?" The taunting behind your words made his cock throb in your hands, slim veins bulging against your palms and making you snicker.

Ino nods his head needly, "M-Mhmm, fuck-," He gasps, voice lagging behind as he tries his best to answer you properly.

You start kissing the side of his neck and he swears his head is spinning. He doesn't even know what to focus on at this point. Your hands on his cock? Your lips on the side of his neck? Your breasts pressed into his back?

It was all too much for him, making his knees bend just for his legs to extend out seconds later, his mouth just open with moans of your name and not-so-silent whines slipping out. Did he want it to go on forever or stop as soon as possible?

Fuck, and then there was you heavy breathing against him, almost as if you were aroused by this too-

Holy shit you were. You were probably soaked just because you're busy getting your boyfriend off using those pretty hands of yours. Ino's on cloud nine just thinking about how wet your cunt probably is, his moans getting louder and louder as second pass.

Up until he can't take it anymore and he moans your name, "B-Baby, fuck, needa' feel you, please."

"Hm?" You giggle softly, though it's noticeably more breathy than usual, "You are feelin' me though?" You point out as your hands tighten around his cock.

Ino's head rests back a bit and he pants, babbling out his desperations more clearly for you, "No baby, your pussy, come put it on me, please." He huffs out.

You cunt twitches at his words and you whisper his name, "Takuma...."

"Please?" Your boyfriend begs, gulping afterward to catch his breath for a moment, "J-Just... oh fuck, let me feel you, taste you, fuck you, anything baby, please?"

"Shit, okay, okay," Is the last thing you say before you too folded under pressure and moved.

Then you were on top of him, his eyes glossy as he watched you above him. Neither of you are sure which was more stimulating, you jerking him off or what you're doing now.

Which was rubbing nothing more than his tip against your slick hole, dragging him back and forth and back and forth in between your sopping folds. His tip was glazed in your arousal and his own, both of you moaning softly at the tease of it all.

It was somehow almost better than sex itself. You liked teasing him like this and he loved being teased. Ino was in a daze, trying his hardest not to cum at the sight of you forcing his needy cock against your pussy.

Your cunt looked so fucking delicious, so wet, so warm, he wanted to be inside you so bad and that's what was arousing him right now-- the temptation to just thrust his hips up into you and finally sink his inches deep inside you.

There was a light wet and sloppy sound that followed your languid movements, his cock slipping inside of you every now and then and making you practically start drooling for it.

It was taking everything in you not to just plop down and start bouncing on his cock like you normally would but when you looked at Ino's face and saw him panting and quietly whimpering-- you knew he was about to cum and you didn't want to stop.

Rocking your pussy over his tip over and over and over and over again until he was struggling to gasp for air, hissing out a cry of your name over and over, trying to warn you.

But instead of stopping, you whine, "C'mon, cum f'me," And then he is, and his cock is leaking in cum before he can even comprehend it, never realizing how sensitive his body was to you until now.

You always kinda knew he was sensitive and sure, you rubbing his cock against your pussy was pleasurable but it really surprised you how much he came from the action.

Smirking as he comes down from his high, you then lean to him and kiss him before whispering, "Good boy," To which his jaw drops a bit and you're angling his cock to slip inside you, "Now, hurry up 'nd please your girlfriend," You huff out.

And he's nodding without a second thought, "Yes ma'am-, fuck, whatever you want, pretty girl."

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konigsblog · 7 months ago

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farmer-könig and his little seductive farmhand.🌾

MINORS DO NOT INTERACT, YOU WILL BE BLOCKED — 18+

farmer-könig is hardworking and determined. he spends the majority of his day feeding the animals and taking care of them, although he has one little distraction: you.

you enjoy riling the older male up, getting him pent up before skipping away with a cheeky grin plastered on your face, leaving him with a hard and aching boner inside of his jeans. he teases you back of course, sometimes walking around shirtless, smacking your tight rear if you're doing a slow job.

although könig gets increasingly frustrated the more often this happens. you like to grind against him slowly, perhaps offering to show him what you can do to long objects... like, a carrot, for example! your little snide innuendos leaving könig achingly sore and insatiable, unable to focus ‘til he finally gets that release he's been fantasising of.

you giggle at the effect you have on the poor, older gentleman. although as soon as könig gets his filthy and perverted hands on you, he's not letting go ‘til he has you bare with his release oozing out of you.

immediately, he lifts up your sundress, revealing your bare rear and slicken pussy. it's clear as day that you've been dreaming of this yourself, fantasising of getting fucked by an experienced man like him. könig's bends you over a fence for a quickie, holding your wrists behind your back in a tight fist, his hard dick throbbing against your sex, so intimate and close to finally pushing inside and fucking you relentlessly for your misbehaviour and neediness.

his pace starts off slow and calm, but quickly becomes ruthless. his heavy and full balls knock and smack against your swollen cunt, your glistening hole taking almost every inch gracefully. seems like you've been preparing for this moment, taking him so well, so eager to please the man. each thrust leaves your pussy drooling with euphoria and ecstasy, the wind knocked from your lungs, and the stretch causing moans and whines to drip from your tongue.

it doesn't take very long before he's filling you with his creamy load, potent strings of his semen plugging you, forced into your cunt. you squirm and pant, heaving and shaking, your thighs coated in a glimmer and shine of your sweat and release, könig's tip oozing out his load before fastening his belt and leaving you a sticky mess to deal with.

perhaps you should've thought twice before taunting him like that, sonnenschein.

#orla speaks #konig x you #konig x reader #konig x y/n #könig x you #könig x reader #könig x y/n #könig cod #könig call of duty #konig mw2 #konig modern warfare #konig mwii #könig modern warfare #könig mw2 #könig mwii #könig smut #farmer könig 🫐

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envy-of-the-apple · 3 months ago

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The Monster You Know

Dark!Gojo Satoru x reader

Synopsis: For your own safety, the strongest sorcerer of today kidnaps you.

Word Count: 6.9k

(Warnings: implied masturbation, implied nsfw, implied noncon recording, death of a minor character.....im pretty sure i missed a warning so lemme know any pls)

Instead of waking up in a bed, you find yourself on the floor.

It's not a comfortable spot to sleep in. The carpet is clean, but it's odd because you don't have this type of carpet in your room. Actually, this isn't your room at all.

But the panic doesn't really set in until you realize your arms are bound.

You don't notice him until he speaks. You're too busy yanking on the metal, pulling your hand as hard as you could. The cuffs don't even budge.

"If you keep yanking your arms like that, you might break 'em."

He's tall, rivaling the door he just walked through. He looks a couple of years older than you, but his white hair can't be natural, not at his age. His blue eyes are lax. The worst part is how relaxed he looks. He has an eased posture and a pretty smile. He's amused, watching you like you’re a pesky mouse trapped in a bucket.

You don’t know him. You’re stuck in an unfamiliar room, chained to the floor, and you don’t know this man.

Escape isn’t possible. So you resort to the next best thing: you plead.

“Who are you?” Your voice is light and wavers on every syllable. “Where-Where am I? Did you bring me here? Please don’t-“

”You always this talkative in the morning?” He dodges your question with a lax grin. “Anyway, uh, sorry about this-“ he gestures to your tied-up form “-I would've used a talisman, but those won’t work on you for obvious reasons. The handcuffs aren’t too tight, are they?”

He steps closer, and you scream. It’s shrill, filled with a type of fear that makes your blood freeze because you don’t know this man, you don’t know where you are, and he’s getting closer.

“Okay okay, I get it!” He manages to say over your pleas for help, but he steps back, and it’s enough to quiet your fear. “Obviously, you need some more time alone, so I’m gonna give you a couple more hours. Feel free to take a mint!” He cheerily points to the nightstand.

He leaves as quickly as he enters. The door shuts but doesn’t lock. You’d be relieved if you weren’t still incapacitated.

You look around the room. Nothing of value, nothing that you could reach and grab. Apart from a chair, the only other pieces of furniture were a heavy-looking bed and a bolted-down nightstand. Your kidnapper was certainly meticulous.

The restraints have just enough slack for you to lean over. You peer at the nightstand. A plastic bowl, too flimsy to be made into a weapon. It contains wrapped-white candies. You gingerly pick one up.

They’re sugar-free.

He returns to the mints scattered all over the floor.

“Okay.” He notes, gracefully stepping over the mess. “Clearly, you aren’t a fan of peppermint. 'you a wintergreen kinda’ person?”

You don’t look at him. You’ve been in the same position you had been in for hours, sitting curled on the floor. By then, your desperation was starting to show through.

“Please just let me go.” You mutter, your voice so low, it’s a miracle he can hear you. “I don’t have any money. I have nothing to offer.”

”Well, that’s good because I don’t want your money.” He says. “I know this looks pretty bad, but this is for your sake more than mine.”

You look at him just as he squats down to your height. You shift away. he smiles.

”Do you know what sorcerer's are?”

You blink.

“It’s fine if you don’t; we all start somewhere, right? A sorcerer is someone who can manipulate cursed energy. I’m a sorcerer! I don’t wanna brag too much, but I’m pretty good at it.”

He laughs like he’s telling a joke, and you suddenly realize that you were kidnapped by someone who believes he’s a wizard.

“Guess you’re still lost, huh? How about I just show you instead?” He points to an ironed-out shirt hanging on a rack. You follow his finger.

He didn't move. There was no machinery. The shirt just crinkled by itself before it dropped to the floor.

You gape. The man grins.

"Pretty amazing, right? That's cursed energy, or, my power if you wanna be less technical."

"Cursed energy." You whisper, a repetition of his words rather than any actual understanding. He beams regardless.

"Yeah! Well, it's a little more complicated than that, but let's just start with the basics for now. Baby steps."

Your dread doesn't fade. Earlier, you feared what a man could do to you, tied and defenseless. Now, you wondered what this man wouldn't do to you.

"Okay, then....why?" You warily ask him. "Why tell me any of this? What's the point?"

"An excellent question!" He commends you, as though he were your teacher and not your jailor. "See, cursed energy is a bit complicated, but it's extremely effective. In almost every case, it's the solution. Except for you."

You shrink back.

"What-what does that mean?"

His grin turns feline. He's enjoying this; seeing you shake, waver beneath his eyes.

"Exactly what I said: you aren't affected by cursed energy. A sorcerer could use their technique on you, and there won't even be a scratch on your body. You're basically the Eraserhead of the Jujutsu World."

You stare at him. He hums, drumming his fingers on his thigh.

"I'm not great at explanations. How about we just have a hands-on experience?"

He extends his hands. A purple orb crackles to life, slowly gaining mass.

"Not too big," he says, though it's clear he isn't speaking to you, "don't wanna wreck the room."

He adjusts his angle so it's facing you. Your eyes widen, and the desperation to wrangle yourself out of the handcuffs grows stronger.

"Wait, stop!" You pleads fall on deaf ears. "Okay okay. I believe you. I believe you-" He flicks his fingers. You close your eyes just before impact.

You expected something. Electricity, a shock. Pain. Your body being eviscerated in milliseconds.

Nothing. Not even a gust of wind.

When your eyes open, he's grinning at you.

"See?" He says, "Not even a scratch."

He's right. Your clothes aren't even rustled, but the evidence is there. The carpet below you is shaved and cleaned off. And the wall closest to you has cracks on it.

You look back up at him.

"I said I believed you."

He shrugs. "Doesn't hurt to make sure we're on the same page." His smile is starting to look less scary and more annoying.

Your mind still struggles to keep up with all the information you've been given. The typhoon of anxiety is coursing through you.

"So, then....why this?" You mention to the handcuffs.

"Just a little confirmation you won't go crazy and destroy the place." He supplies happily. "If jujutsu doesn't work on you, then bindings and talismans definitely won't do a thing. Looking back, abduction probably wasn't the greatest idea in the world. I would've figured something else out, but time wasn't on our side in this case. Especially if we wanted you alive."

You pale at that. He notices.

"What, you thought I'd be the only person who noticed you? You're an anomaly. In our world, that's dangerous. Also, the bounty on your head is a pretty nice incentive for people to get the job done."

"A bounty?"

He grins, and the number he gives makes your mouth hang open.

"Yup, pretty crazy, right? Anyway, until everything settles down, you and I are roomies!" He claps. "Isn't that exciting!?"

You glance at him. Then, in the room. Then, at your cuffs. Everything was going so fast. The only constant was him.

"So, I'm not really a prisoner?" You ask. "I could just...leave, right?"

"Sure you could. If you hear all that and still wanna go, I won't stop you. Promise." He nods. "But you'd be dead as soon as you step out of the apartment."

It's not a threat. It's a promise. And not from him. That makes it worse.

This is insane. All of this is insane; who'd believe any of it? But his powers....that can't be faked. As well as everything that he told you. Why would he lie? What reason could he have to deceive you?

"Okay," you say hesitantly, "just one more thing."

The man leans in.

"What's your name?"

He smiles.

Becoming Gojo's roommate was an easy transition.

You’ve always been someone who goes with the flow. Becoming someone's consenting captive isn't a struggle once you get used to it. A few days in and you and your 'captor' have fallen into an easy rhythm. It's easy to grow trusting of him, especially when there are others who can vouch for him.

"You should be arrested." Ieiri mumbles, checking your wrists.

"What? I can't believe you're upset with me." Gojo responds though he doesn't sound very panicked. "I was desperate!"

Ieiri shakes her head, continuing wrapping your wrists. Amid your panic during the first few hours in Gojo's apartment, you managed to sprain your wrists, trying to yank yourself out of the handcuffs. You wince when she presses on your bruised skin.

"Sorry," she says, voice flat. You smile anyway.

Ieiri was also a sorcerer, but she had a different technique. Instead of Gojo's destruction, hers revolved around healing. You've never really seen it in action ("My technique won't work on you; even then, it's a sprained wrist. You'll live."), but it sounded pretty powerful.

"I'm not upset." Ieiri continues. "But I'm surprised you're going along with all this." That sentence is directed at you.

You shrug while trying to keep still for her. "He was pretty convincing."

Ieiri raises a brow, before ultimately deciding she doesn't care.

"Again, I'm very sorry about all this." Ijichi pipes up. Ever since he entered Gojo's flat, he's been doing nothing but begging for your forgiveness for Gojo's abrupt actions. Apologetic, but not very shocked. You're assuming this isn't the first time Gojo has done something like this.

Gojo's allies were very different from each other, you ultimately decided.

“We thought we’d have more time to approach you,” he continues with a nervous smile, “we never expected the clans to move so quickly.”

“Clans?” You ask, “What clans?”

Ijichi gives Gojo a look. Gojo looks away, whistling. Eventually, Ijichi’s shoulders drop.

“Some minor clans with dwindling jujitsu sorcerers.” He gives. “And then the bounty happened and well…” he trails off.

You nod. “So, when will everything go back to normal?”

Gojo grins. Ieiri sighs. It’s Ijichi who gives the most concrete response.

You look at the three of them. “Or will things ever go back to normal?”

”It’s hard to say,” Ijichi says, “news travels fast in the jujutsu world, but it’s not improbable. Miyashiro will let us know eventually.”

"Miyashiro?”

To answer your question, Ijichi pulls out his phone. You stare at a picture of yourself. But you know you’ve never been in that restaurant before.

“It’s his technique.” Ijichi tells you. “Flesh manipulation. For the time being, Miyashiro will pose as you and can hopefully air out any potential bounty hunters. He’s the perfect man for the job.”

You nod, a bit skeptical. “Isn’t this a bit dangerous? Aren’t people trying to kill me?”

Ijichi tucks away his phone. “Miyashiro is one our best. He'll be fine.” He assures.

Satisfied with your answers, you nod. Ieiri pulls away after she finishes wrapping your hand. Gojo claps his hands together.

“See, roomie? You’re in great hands!” He chirps. You nod, if only to seem compliant.

Apart from Gojo himself, Ieiri and Ijichi are the only ones who know about your predicament, his most trusted people. The rest of the world is unaware that there's someone posing as you, nor that you've gone into hiding. Not your friends. Not even your family. ("It's for the best," Ijichi explained when you voiced your worries, "but we promise, once the bounty is down, we'll return you back to your life. It'll be like nothing ever happened.").

Settling in barely takes a week. Gojo's nice enough to lend you his room, more than happy to set up in the living room. Despite how you two 'met', he's quickly proven to be a nice guy.

Nice. Just nice.

To be honest, you don't know all that much about Gojo. He's letting you stay in his home, but you don't see him all that much. Gojo is gone pretty much all day. Sometimes, he's gone for days on end. The apartment feels more like yours than his.

"I'm the strongest." He told you when you asked. You don't know what he means by that, so you didn't pry.

Despite the awkwardness, you don't mind the distant relationship. The man probably has his day packed with hunting down demons and this school he talked about.

The change doesn't happen until two weeks after you move in.

You weren't allowed to have a phone, nor any internet access, so you mostly spent your time doing hobbies. You've always wanted to learn to crochet, and now you finally had time to actually learn. Drawing also took some hours out of your day. And eventually, you moved onto cooking.

Ijichi was more than happy to grab you the grocery items when you asked. When you insisted on paying him back, he declined profusely. He was actually the one who organized getting your things and really moving you in. You have another thing you owe these people.

Cooking was a steep learning curve. Before, you'd only made simple sandwiches and curries, so the food starting out wasn't the best. But you enjoyed the journey more, rather than the end result. Pretty soon, you became pretty good at it.

Gojo wasn't home often these days, so you jump when the front door clicks open. He takes off that blindfold he's always wearing, blinking a couple times before his blue gaze settles on you in the kitchen.

"What's all this?" He cocks his head. He isn't smiling.

Oh no. You remembered getting permission to use his kitchen, but maybe he hadn't expected you to go this far? The kitchen is a mess. There's flour everywhere. You still hadn't washed the cutting board, nor the knives.

"I'm sorry," you say, "I-I can clean up and-"

He waves his hand. "It's fine. I'm not mad, I just..." He drifts off.

You suddenly have a feeling that you might've misread this entire situation.

"Would you like some?" You ask. "I think I made too much."

"I could eat," he says.

You smile.

A few moments later, the two of you are settled on the table. Gojo's never been so quiet before. In the short time you've known him, he's always been boisterous and playful. Now, he's silent. Staring at the food.

You hold your breath when he takes his first bite.

"It's good." He says, his mouth full. It's cute. "Really, really good. Damn."

You laugh out of nerves.

"You think so? I'm glad! It was my first time trying out this recipe and I wasn't sure if it'd turn out well and..." you're rambling, you know that. You can't help yourself.

"No, it's good. Real good," he says. It's silent again, but not as uncomfortable this time. The only thing you hear is the clanking of silverware and the hum of the lights. Outside the window, the city lights twinkle.

You're on your last bite when he speaks again.

"'been a while since I've had a homecooked meal." He starts with a slight laugh. "Kinda' forgot what it's like."

You think of the fridge. How it was only ever stacked with protein shakes and instant meals. Gojo was a sorcerer. The strongest. You think you get what that means now.

"I wouldn't mind doing this more often," you say.

He looks at you with the prettiest blue you've ever seen. The color of a bright cloudless sky.

"I think I'd like that."

Who ever said the phrase 'the quickest way to a man's heart is through his stomach' was onto something. Your friendship with Gojo bloomed after that night. On the seldom nights he came home, dinner was made and sitting on the table. It took a few days for the two of you to warm up enough to talk to each other. Once Gojo got going, it was a lot harder to shut him up. He talked about his school, his work as a teacher for other jujutsu sorcerers. You liked the way he talked about his students. Nothing but pride and affection .

On the nights he didn't come home, you'd save the leftovers in the fridge. They were usually gone by the morning.

He was around a lot more after that night. Not that you minded, it was his house. You just didn't get a few things about him. For example, that blindfold of his. Why wear it when it was clear he couldn't see with it on?

You decide to bring it up the third time he nearly runs you over.

"It's part of my technique." He explains. "The six eyes. They're basically cursed energy x-rays. The blindfold just limits their strength."

You were lounged on the sofa watching TV while he was plopped right next to you. He's switched his blindfold for his glasses.

"Oh," you say when it clicks, "and since I block people's abilities you..."

"Yup! Can't see you at all!" Gojo happily fills in. "It doesn't help that you're so quiet. Maybe I should put a bell on you."

You laugh, but it doesn't sound like he was joking.

"What's it like?" You ask, turning to him, "Seeing the way, you see? What-what do you see?"

"Everything." Gojo shrugs.

You frown. "That's not very descriptive."

He laughs. "Here, wanna try?" He takes off his glasses, handing them over. "These things are real popular with the ladies."

He's avoiding the question, but you don't bother chasing him for it. Instead, you grab the lenses, pulling them over your eyes. You expect to see the secrets of the universe. Instead, you see nothing but darkness. Though, that might be the point.

"Everything, hm?" You ask, when you take them off. "That sounds exhausting."

He takes them back with a grin. "It is! My eyes hurt so so much! You should pity me and make matcha tiramisu."

You laugh, drawing back. "That's what this is about? To guilt trip me into making dessert for you?"

"Did it work?"

You think for a moment.

"Get me the ingredients, and I'll see."

He cheers but doesn't fully answer your question until the episode ends when you've bid him goodnight and are about to return to the bedroom.

"You're blurry from far away."

When you look at him, his glasses are gone, tucked under his collar. It's night, but the sky still stares down at you. His usual smile is gone, stretched into a line you can't place.

"I can see down to molecules, atoms. Not you."

You look at him, his eyes. The beautiful curse they are.

You force yourself to take the first step. Then another. Then another. When you're right in front of him, when he's towering over you, you open to your mouth.

"What do you see, Gojo?"

"Everything." He honestly replies.

Everything. Not just cursed energy. Down to cells, molecules, atoms. You can't fathom how much that is, the essence of everything. What's that like? Being able to see the universe so much that it hurts? So much so that it makes him want to wear a blindfold and never see anything again.

But you're blurry. Gojo can't see you the way he sees others.

You reach your hands up slowly like you're approaching a wild animal. In some ways, maybe that's what Gojo is: unpredictable, able to wield the power of space—power that's useless against you.

You cover his eyes. He doesn't stop you.

"What do you see, Satoru?"

He doesn't speak, and you're afraid he's forgotten how.

"Nothing." Quiet, barely more than a whisper.

He slouches ever so slightly, leaning into your hands like some weight's been lifted. It makes you smile.

When you try to pull your hands away, his wrap around your wrist, keeping you there. So you stay—for as long as he wants.

It starts something of a tradition between the two of you. Not every night, not even most nights, but every so often, Satoru would grow quiet, shift in a particular way. You hoped it was therapeutic for him, a break rather than a glimpse of what could have been. You hoped you were helping.

And, if you were torturing him, hopefully, you won't be for long.

"How much longer do you think I have to do this?" You ask.

He hums, clearly not paying attention. You two were in the kitchen, making some sweet he saw trending on the internet. Well, you were doing all the work. Satoru kept trying to steal the batter.

"You know. Sleeping under your roof, eating all your food, stealing you bed." You urge, while whisking.

"You're acting like I've been keeping you in the attic, roomie." Satoru pouts. "C'mon, I haven't been that bad, have I?"

"I'm asking for your sake rather than mine," you tell him. "I'm sure you'll be thrilled to have your house back, and your bed. When will everything settle down?"

His blindfold is on, as it usually is. To help him out, you've taken to wearing squeaky slippers around the house. He'd offered to buy you one of those cat collars with bells. You declined.

He's looking in your direction. You know he can't see you, but you can still feel his eyes on you. It's a strange feeling.

"There's talks of taking down the bounty," Satoru finally says, losing his playful tone, "just rumors, nothing concrete. Worst comes to worst, we'll have to relocate you somewhere overseas."

Yeah, you were worried about that. Leaving everything behind, your home, your friends, your family, because your life was in danger. You hoped it wouldn't have to come to that.

"We have a couple of options, though," Satoru says, "negotiations, for one."

You perk up at that. "Negotiations?" You ask.

He nods. "Right now, you're under my protection. Unofficially. I could pull some strings, get those old geezers at the academy to take you in as some special assistant."

You tilt your head. "Like at the school that you teach, right?"

He nods. "We have a case like yours attending the school, too. I think you and him would get along."

"Your ability could be pretty useful to us. You might even get out in the field every so often." Satoru continues. "A special technique like that would be wasted down here."

Special. He's said that before. You can't remember when, but you know he's right. You're an anomaly, but you can use your abilities for good. But could you really do that? Risk your life every day? Lose pieces of yourself like that?

"I don't really feel special," you say, "I don't want to be special either." You glance at him. "Is that a bad thing?"

Even blindfolded, somehow, his eyes find yours.

"No," he says, no judgment in his voice, "it just makes you human."

Relief. You can feel it sinking through your veins. Part of you feels guilty. Satoru is right; you could do a lot. But you...you don't want to end up like him.

That makes you feel even worse, but then you catch something in his tone.

"You sound like you're not very human," you say back. You're teasing, but it falls flat.

He hums. It's not quite the response you were looking for. It takes a second for him to start up again.

"When I was younger, people used to call me creepy."

You stare at him.

"What?."

He grins, but it's not his usual one.

"It's true." He shrugs. "Mostly, it was 'cause of my eyes. They called them unnerving. Monstrous. My folks were always a creative bunch." He says it so casually, but you can hear the bite on his voice. It's phrased as a joke, but it isn't.

You put down your whisk, giving him your full attention.

"That's not true," you respond, "you know that, right? You aren't a monster. Monsters aren't as kind as you are."

"Oh?" He tilts his head. "Maybe I'm using my kindness as a lure to trap you. Guess you just fell for it, roomie. 'thought you were smarter than that." You roll your eyes.

"Okay, fine, I yield. You're a monster. But out of all the monsters in the world, I'd pick you."

For a moment, there's silence in the kitchen. Then-

"So cheesy!" Satoru laughs. He reaches over, roughly pinching your cheek. "Who knew you could say such cute things, roomie."

You slap his hands away, now extremely annoyed.

"Nevermind. I take it back," you retort. "I'd run away as far as I could from you."

"Good, you should," he replies. "I won't stop you."

You scoff.

"Maybe that's why everyone thought you were creepy." You go back to your whisking. "It's not your eyes, you just say a lot of ominous shit."

Despite how peaceful it is, making desert, cooking, and acting domestic, it can't last forever. The world was still hunting for you, and it had no problems reminding you of that.

One night, you wake up to the sounds of hushed talking.

It's coming from the living room. Multiple voices. Quiet but urgent. You're used to the noise. Satoru has this habit of blasting terrible soap operas at 2 am. You don't think that man sleeps. Over time, you've gotten used to at least one disturbance.

But this feels different. It's enough to rub the sleep out of your eyes, making you pad over to the hall.

They hear you before they see you. Satoru's apartment has creaky floorboards. Ijichi tugs on the collar of his shirt nervously. Ieiri just looks away. Satoru is leaning back against the couch, legs crossed. He's frowning. That's how you know something isn't right.

"Is everything okay?" You ask anyway.

Ijichi gives a tight grin.

"Everything's fine." He's quick to console. "We-we were just-"

"Stop." Satoru immediately cuts in. He's wearing his blindfold. You can't tell what he's thinking.

"We're not hiding it. Everyone involved should know."

Ijichi deflates. You think Ieiri sneers.

Satoru beckons you closer with long fingers. You step forward. They're sitting around a computer. You peek at the screen.

Instantly, you wish you hadn't.

There were pictures of you. Dead. Your body parts were strewn across the floor. Your hands were broken in every other way. Your legs were in pieces. Your head snapped clean off, blood oozing from your appendages like you were just a packet of liquid. One of your eyes was missing from its socket. The other was crushed. But it wasn't you, it was-

"Miyashiro. At least, what's left of him." Satoru gives.

The doppelganger, the guy who was covering for you. He was supposed to be one of their best; what happened to him?

What was going to happen to you?

They're talking again. At least, you think they are. Their words are muffled, filtered through water. You can't make out what anyone is saying. Your heart's beating too fast. It's pounding through your ears. You can only stare at the picture, what was left of him. Someone's touching you. A hand on your back.

"Roomie, hey," Satoru's voice comes.

The pounding stops. You look up at him.

Angelic. It's the only word you could think of. His snow-white hair was pretty, falling elegantly down his face. He'd taken his blindfold off. Blue eyes, sparkling, cleansing. Purifying, like the Ganges river.

How could anyone think a beautiful sight like this was monstrous?

He calls your name, your real name, and you break.

You cling to him, wrapping your arms around his waist. And you're sobbing, tears of everything flowing down your face.

Hands, hesitant, unsure, rest on your back. And then Satoru's holding you as tightly as he can.

He's warm. It's all you can think as you shake in his hold.

He's warm.

"I won't have to worry about that if I just gave in, hm?" You ask.

It was a couple of days later from your episode. Satoru had convinced you to give one of his soap operas a shot. On-screen, a woman slapped her cheating husband.

Satoru was lounging beside you, feet propped up on the coffee table. You want to tell him off, but it's his house.

"If you went to the school, you mean?" He asks. "Probably. You'd be a lot freer. Won't have to sit in a cramped apartment all day. 'sides, jujutsu tech is always on the lookout for fresh talent. The higher-ups would be ecstatic to have someone like you under their thumb."

"But I'd have to become a sorcerer." You say the unspoken.

Gojo nods. "Yeah, you would."

And you don't want that. To face curses, to face death every day. You know you can't handle that. You aren't strong, like Satoru.

"I'm sorry," you say.

He laughs. "For what?"

You shrug as the on-screen couple makes up again. "For being...a coward, I guess."

He thinks for a moment.

"It's not about bravery," he says in the end, "being a sorcerer is just...that. A sorcerer. It's a job. A title. Only a special few can do it. The crazy ones."

His tone gets a bit playful.

"No offense, roomie, but I don't think you got enough crazy in you."

"That's a compliment, actually." You correct. He ignores you.

"'sides, I like you staying here." Satoru declares, stretching his arms out on the couch. "Who'd feed me? It'd be horrible to go back to ramen again."

You roll your eyes. "Right. Who else will wake at 2 am because of your whining to make wagashi?"

"See! You get it!" Satoru grins. You can't force the smile off your face.

The husband's mistress has entered the set. The wife is confident that her husband will choose her. She's left heartbroken all over again. You don't get how she couldn't see it. The red flags were all there, and still, she was left blindsided. Never saw it coming. She trusts too easily, you decided.

"Also, I like having you here," Satoru says.

You glance at him. He's watching the screen.

"It's...nice." He admits after a bit. "To have company like this. It reminds me of back when I was younger. When the two of us lived in the dorms."

When he was a student? Who was he talking about? You don't pry. It's clear he isn't talking to you.

"I'm glad you're here," Satoru says.

Lightly, you bump shoulders with him. Infinity doesn't stop you.

"You're a sweet monster." You tell him.

He gives a secret grin.

Every once in a while, Gojo peeks into the bedroom while you're sleeping.

He's subtle about it, doesn't make too much noise. You're a light sleeper, so it takes little to nothing to wake you up.

He doesn't do anything. He stands there, shuffles here and there, hovering by the foot of the bed. You just pretend to be asleep in those cases, evening out your breaths, closing your eyes. It's always the same. He loiters around for a minute, and then he's shutting the door behind him.

It's strange, but you try not to think too much of it. He was probably looking for something. It's his room after all.

It's just...strange.

You find it when you're looking through his book shelf.

He doesn't have anything interesting to read. It's mainly just historical novels. You're perusing through one before a photograph falls out of the pages.

It's tiny, barely larger than your palm. It only takes a second to realize what you're looking at.

"Found your baby pictures." You gleefully tell Satoru when he comes back.

"What?" He tilts his head; you wave the photo in front of him. When he tries to take it, you pull back.

"Tiny Satoru!" You squeal. "Who knew you were once so small? I always thought you were born six feet over."

It's a simple photograph, a little aged, but still clear. Satoru looks about eight, standing between a man and a woman. His face is eerily blank. He stares with no emotion, not even a smile. He isn't wearing sunglasses or a blindfold. Doll-like blue eyes. You don't feel like you're looking at a child. He's too-

"Are those your parents?" You ask, letting him take the photograph from you.

"No," he says, "my caretakers."

Caretakers. Not nannies, or anything else. It felt so clinical. You lean against his shoulder, still staring at the photograph.

"You look cute." You finally say. When you peak over, a hint of a smile is twitching on his face. "But I totally agree with everyone. You look creepy. Like one of those children from the exorcist. Climbing over the walls."

"I never grew out of that phase." Satoru ponders. You laugh.

"What was it like?" You ask. "You said you're from a clan, right?"

"Exhausting." Satoru groans. "Never a break from training. I should go back and sue my folks for child abuse. I could get millions."

"I could help you with that." You pipe in. "I've never gone to law school, but I feel like I'd make a great lawyer."

"I'll keep that in mind." He promises teasingly before his smile fades.

"But that's the norm for most kids in jujutsu." He sighs. "Gotta' be perfect. Gotta' be the best, right from the beginning. There's a student I know who had a rough start, but she's the best in her class. Her clan didn't care about her potential. Those kids are all scary talented, they just need a bit of nurturing, that's all."

You stare at him. He catches you.

"What?" He asks, before his eyes widen. "Do I have a pimple?"

You shake your head. "For some reason, I feel like that's impossible for you." You tease.

"I'm just admiring you, I think. For being such a kind person."

"I thought we agreed I was a monster." Satoru points out.

This again. You roll your eyes.

"Fine, a good monster." You correct. "A monster, I know."

"The monster you know." He repeats

You want to ask him why he's so insistent on that. For some reason, you hold your voice.

Satoru's apartment had two bathrooms. Lately, the one in the bedroom has had some issues.

It's been awkward lately trying to share the only working bathroom. Satoru and you shower at around the same time, so you've opted to hold back your morning routine a little later. You still manage to catch each other. The amount of times you've accidentally caught him walking around with nothing but a towel around his waist would be too mortifying to admit.

But, so far, it's working. And you can't complain since you at least have one working bathroom. It's the little things.

Tonight, you wake up to your bladder urging you to move. And yet, your body still wants to sleep. You check the time. It's nearly 2 in the morning.

It takes a while to pull yourself up, unraveling yourself from the covers before you're trudging out the bedroom. Satoru's apartment is so dark. It's a completely different look compared to daytime. You feel your way with the walls, letting your eyes adjust to the dark. When you peek over at the living room, Satoru isn't there. He must not be coming home tonight.

The bathroom is shut, but there's a sliver of light bleeding under the door. Fuck, you did not shut the lights off last time. You need to be less careless.

At first, you think Satoru's hurt.

He looks hurt. He's hunched over, shaking shoulders, harsh breathing. You can only see his back, but he looks like he's in agony. You're about to step forward, ask what happened, and then you catch a glimpse of what he's clutching.

Pretty, blue, laced panties.

Your panties.

And you're close enough to hear his voice whispering your name. Over and over again.

"Fuck, fuck, baby, need you, just lemme-just lemme, all mine, all mine-"

He doubles over, tightening his grip on the edge of the sink. Your panties are damp.

You flinch, and in your moment of panic, you step back. Creaky floorboards.

Satoru looks up in the mirror. You don't move.

He takes his time. Placing his phone down. Adjusting his pants, washing his hands. You can only stand there, frozen. Staring. Staring until he's in front of you, looking right back.

You might have forgiven him if he had fumbled, laughed it off, became bashful. A human reaction. His face is eerily blank. He stares with no emotion, not even a smile. His eyes mirror that photograph. Doll-like, absolutely empty.

Monstrous.

Your eyes water. He turns blurry for a second.

Satoru steps aside. You wordlessly enter the bathroom, shutting the door behind you. You don't bother locking.

You don't know how long you stay there, quiet, shaking, your mind trying to piece together what you just saw. You stay there for hours. You stay there for seconds. Time stretches on like infinity itself, yet even then, it's too short.

You're alone with him. It's a thought you never even had until now. You're alone with him.

Satoru is outside. You don't look at him, staring at the floor, looking at the carpet, counting each strand. You keep your head down when you return to the bedroom.

He follows. You say nothing. You don't look. You don't look, even when the covers shift and he gets into bed behind you. You don't look, even when there's a hand on your shoulder. You don't look, even when there's a chest pressed against your back.

You shiver, you shake. You don't look. He says nothing, even when you break down completely.

You wake up alone the next morning.

You don't waste a second. You're stumbling through the room, picking up your clothes, packing everything that you need. You're so panicked that you manage to knock over an alarm clock.

It's habit to reach down and pick it up. Learned politeness to scrutinize it to make sure it isn't broken.

A black dot stares back at you.

A camera.

Horrible memories of last night come back. He was watching something on his phone.

You feel nauseous, about to give all over the floor. You need to go. You needed to get out of there.

The apartment is silent, like it always is when Satoru isn't here. You just hadn't noticed how cold it was, lifeless. It makes the pit on your stomach gap. You expect the windows to be bolted shut. They aren't. Sunlight streams through the glass. The front door is unbarred too.

It's easy to leave.

You stop anyway. One question.

Where would you go?

You can't go back home. Miyashiro's body still haunts you. His soul in your body, torn apart with such hatred and vitriol. Those people were still looking for you. The only reason you were still alive was because Miyashiro took your death bed.

You'd die if you went back home.

You can't go to jujutsu tech. You'd be expected to lay down your life, serve a maskless force that pretended to do good. You'd certainly die. Ripped apart by curses.

You'd be slaughtered if you went to the school.

Every route is treacherous, nearly impossible, full of dangers and unknowns.

At least, you know what Satoru wants.

He's made it clear since the beginning. You were just willfully ignorant. Oblivious on purpose. More than happy to ignore the red flags because you knew he was a kind person to his students, ignoring the dichotomy of his actions.

Two things can be right at once.

Satoru won't stop you if you run. He told you that himself. You could leave if you wanted, and he won't follow. But every other path is filled with an intangible value, and Satoru is the monster you know.

Your hand falls away from the doorknob.

You get started on dinner.

You're still there when Satoru comes back. You say nothing. Neither does he. Dinner is a quiet affair. He doesn't talk about his day, he doesn't talk about his students. When you wash the plates, he's quietly standing behind you. When you get out of the shower, he's waiting outside the bathroom.

You can't bring yourself to look at him until you get into bed. Your eyes trail up, past his legs, his shoulders, his neck. Looking into Satoru's crystal blue eyes.

Blank. Numb. Empty.

You think of the cameras. You think of your stolen underwear.

You think of how much his eyes must hurt right then.

You raise one hand out, grasping the sleeve of his shirt. It's barely a tug, but the monster follows like he's weightless, crawling into bed. He's too big to hold properly, but he sinks into your body anyway. His forehead rests against your chest. His eyes close. You don't feel that ice anymore.

“What do you see, Satoru?”

“Nothing.” A pause. A stilted breath.

“Nothing but you.”

He was right in the end. Satoru is a monster. There's no other word that can describe him. Inhuman, far above humanity itself. But he's the monster you'd pick, every single time.

#yandere #yandere jjk #dark jjk #dark gojo satoru #yandere gojo satoru #yandere x reader #dark gojo satoru x reader #yandere gojo satoru x reader #yandere jjk x reader #dark jjk x reader #minor character death

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hemmingsleclerc · 8 months ago

Text

My Husband ┃CS55

summary: Y/N attends her husband's home race but didn't expect to find the "popular" girl of her high school back in the day.

The sun was seen over the Barcelona-Catalunya Circuit while the Spanish Grand Prix was taking place. Y/N, dressed in an elegant yet casual dress that perfectly combined glamor and comfort, strolled through the paddock with an air of confidence. Her husband, Carlos, was focused on preparations for the next race, leaving her free to immerse herself in the exciting atmosphere.

As she toured the different garages and hospitality areas, Y/N couldn't shake the feeling of nostalgia. The roar of the engines brought back memories of her teenager's years when she would never have imagined being there in the paddock. Yet here she was, the wife of one of the sport's most talented drivers.

The familiar murmur of voices interrupted her thoughts and she turned to see a group of people approaching her. Among them was a face from her past: a girl named Carla, who was once the queen bee of her high school. Carla's eyes widened in false surprise when she saw Y/N there.

"Well, well, if it's not little Y/N," Carla sneered, her tone full of mockery. "What brings you to the Spanish Grand Prix? Trying to catch a glimpse of the rich and famous?"

Y/N smiled, refusing to let Carla's comments get to her. "Oh, you know, I've always been an F1 fan. I thought I'd come and support my husband."

''Husband?, so after all you did get a boyfriend?, what a wonderful surprise!''

''Yes, yes I did Carla'' Y/N responded, avoiding the urge to roll her eyes.

Carla smiled and looked at her boyfriend, who was next to her. "Well, we're here because my boyfriend is a big fan. You probably know him, he was with us at school! In fact, today he met all the drivers. It's a dream come true for him."

Y/N raised an eyebrow, recognizing the familiar pattern of Carla trying to outdo her in any situation. "That's fantastic for him. I'm sure meeting the drivers was an unforgettable experience."

''So, is this your first race?''

''In fact no, I have attended several grand prix, although it's probably your first time, so enjoy it Carla!'' And just as she finished saying those words she turned around and walked away from that irritating situation.

The race came to life and Y/N continued to enjoy the event, doing her best to ignore the presence of her ''wonderful'' former high school classmates.

As the checkered flag waved, signaling the end of the race, Y/N once again found herself in the path of Carla and her boyfriend.

"Well, well, you again” Carla said with a forced smile. "Did you have fun watching the race, sweetie?"

Y/N sighed inwardly but maintained her composure. "Yes, it was thrilling. Excuse me, I need to find Carlos."

As she tried to walk away, Carla's boyfriend, Y/N's old crush from high school, stepped forward, trying to strike up a conversation with her. Y/N felt a wave of discomfort but remained polite. All she wanted to do was go to her husband and congratulate him on his incredible podium finish in the race.

Suddenly, the crowd around them buzzed with excitement as Carlos Sainz approached, his red racing suit adorned with sponsor logos. Carla and her boyfriend exchanged surprised glances.

"Carlos Sainz!" Carla exclaimed. "What are you doing here?"

Y/N couldn't help but smile triumphantly. "Oh, I didn't mention it before? He's Carlos, my husband, sweetie."

Carlos, oblivious to the tension, politely greeted Carla and her boyfriend. When they noticed, Carla's forced smile faltered and Y/N took the opportunity to gracefully exit the conversation. She walked away from her, leaving behind a speechless Carla and a bewildered old lover.

''Thank God you showed up, I couldn't stand them for another minute''

''You okey mi amor?''

''I'll be better after the celebration for your great podium, cariño''

With their heads held high, Y/N and Carlos walked out holding hands, along with the shiny trophy, ready to have a great night.

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yieldtotemptation · 4 months ago

Text

BLUEBERRIES ft. Chaewon

chaewon x male reader smut

9k words

"SURPRISE ATTACK!"

—is the last thing you hear before your entire world tilts sideways, the weight of your girlfriend crashing into you, sending you toppling over the arm of your chair and onto the thankfully plush carpet.

And just like that, Kim Chaewon has arrived—shattering the quiet of your apartment with the sound of her giggles and the thud of your bodies.

To her credit, she gracefully lands on top of you—legs straddling your torso, hands pressing down on your chest—pinning you to the floor, and she's grinning—all doe-eyes and mischief, her hair fanned out around her like a strawberry-blonde halo.

"Do you surrender, baby?"

You could pretend to put up a fight—push back a little, buck your hips, take her by the waist—get a little rough. But why would you? Especially when losing meant having Chaewon on top of you.

So, like always, you decide it's best to give your girlfriend exactly what she wants and you play along: enjoying the creamy thighs squeezing your sides, that collarbone peeking out of your stolen sweatshirt, those impossibly large eyes looking down at you as she makes herself comfortable—and you respond with a rather theatrical groan, "I surrender, Chae."

"Nuh uh," she corrects you, her voice dropping down a comically low octave. "It's Chaewon-rys Targar-something, Queen of Apartment 19-4, Ruler of..."

"My fridge?" You offer.

"Very funny,” Chaewon replies, bemused.

It's been weeks without this—without her—and you've barely survived. Chaewon's schedule is a merciless beast, devouring every second of her time. But here she is, now, with you—on top of you—back in your life and picking up from exactly where she left off.

“But,” she continues, “seeing as you're in the mood for jokes how about… ThisI" Chaewon turns cruel, unveiling her most brutal method of torture—tickling. She catches you off guard, shifting her weight, her hands abandoning your chest and flying to your sides, her light fingers dancing over your ribs, her nails lightly digging in just enough to make you squirm.

"Wait-wait-wait!" You try to twist your way free, but she's got you good, her fingers now inching closer to your armpits, towards your most vulnerable spots. "Mercy!" you yell, but she's just getting started— “Mercy!”

"No mercy!" She's relishing this far, far too much, all giggles and grins, delighted at your pathetic efforts to struggle out from her grasp and escape her vicious assault. Your laughter comes out in uncontrollable bursts, as you desperately try to cover your sides to protect yourself from her onslaught.

"Ok-ok-ok-I give up! You win— you win—I give up!" You cry out, your laughter morphing into wheezes as Chaewon's relentless tickling at last, mercifully subsides.

"Aha! Round 129 goes to Kim-Chae-Won!" Chaewon turns and bows to an imaginary audience, mimicking a faraway crowd chanting her name "Kim-Chae-Won! Kim-Chae-Won!"

"I have once again been defeated," you feign a dramatic sigh, drawing an even harder laugh from Chaewon as you roll your eyes to the back your head and let your tongue loll out of your mouth.

Your apparent death does little to faze Chaewon, who takes this as an opportunity to plop down on your stomach, pressing her full weight down on your chest. She props her elbows on either side of your shoulders, her chin resting on her interlocked hands. “I guess it’s time to claim my prize.”

Chaewon slides her hands upwards, her fingertips walking up your arms towards your wrists, squeezing them lightly and pulling them over your head, holding them firm against the ground.

When your eyes finally refocus, she’s hovering over you, her button nose brushing against yours, and her lips—bright pink and slightly parted—just millimeters away from your own.

You're trapped under her, but you hardly mind—she's so warm, so soft, so natural—crime would skyrocket if this was considered a form of punishment.

"Let this be a lesson," she's whispering now, very much satisfied, so close that waves of her strawberry-blonde hair spill down on either side of your face. Strands tickle your nose with the scent of her shampoo, a floral bouquet that you've come to associate with lazy Sundays and the promise of warm breakfasts in bed. "I. Always. End. On. Top."

She finishes her victory speech by stealing a kiss—as light and sweet as she is—but it’s still far, far shorter than you'd like.

That simple kiss has your mind wandering, entertaining the thought of flipping the script—of surprising her, overpowering her and turning the tables.

You could grab her, kiss her long and hard—get rid of that ludicrously oversized sweatshirt and tear off those dangerously short sweatpants. Part those lithe, never-ending legs, feel the warmth of her bare skin against yours, mark your territory on her perfect, toned thighs and each individual abdominal muscle.

But the way she's looking at you, her cheeks flushed from the exertion, her eyes sparkling with playful triumph, she's so adorable that the thought of manhandling her right now seems almost...sacrilegious.

And, let's face it, it's seeing this side of her that you love—the Chaewon that's free from the glitz and glamour of the stage, the choreography, the smiles that are painted on for the cameras. The Chaewon that is not wearing the mask of someone enjoying herself, that is actually, genuinely having a good time.

Here, in your apartment, with the curtains drawn and the outside world blocked out, she's just yours—Kim Chaewon, your girlfriend. The one who laughs at your terrible dad jokes and makes fun of your outdated sense of style, the one who can tell whether you've had a good day or not just by how heavy your feet are when you walk through the front door, the one who knows all the perfect ways to make you relax after a tough day at—

Fuck.

Work.

The word sneaks into your mind like a ninja in the night—silent, swift, and really fucking inconvenient.

Fucking work.

A bullshit spreadsheet you're supposed to be updating and a deck that needs to be finished by tomorrow morning, even though you know it won't be looked at for another month.

You don't have to say anything, Chaewon's already reading the frown lines on your face. "Oh—no-no-no. That's your—'fun time is over I have work to do'—face. I hate that face."

"There's these slides..." you know you’re fighting a losing battle, your voice trailing off as you try to hold onto the last remnants of what was once a very pleasant afternoon.

"No way—not happening," Chaewon insists, emphasising her point with a firm squeeze of your wrists. "I only just came back from Japan, and it’s been weeks. There is no way you're going to ditch the beautiful love of your life for that laptop. I'm literally on top of you right now!"

"Come on, Chae, I was almost done when you came in—"

"—when I defeated you in combat and forced you to surrender— "

"At least let me do a quick review then I swear I'm all yours," you negotiate, trying to maintain eye contact with her but failing as your gaze falls to the laptop atop your desk, the open tabs taunting you. "Five minutes, tops."

"Nope, not moving, not going anywhere, you're just going to have stay under me like this forever." Chaewon's being petulant now—this is more your fault than anything, you've been spoiling her like a princess—and while she is acting like a brat, it's a brat of your own creation.

"Chae—come on—let me up, please."

"If I let you up, you'll get into one of your 'zones' and then it'll be hours before you’re done and you’ll completely ignore me," Chaewon pouts, her nose scrunching up in a way that's both endearing and exasperating. "And I've missed you too much for that."

"I promise I won't—”

Chaewon rolls her eyes at that.

“I'm serious—just let me up."

"Oh, you're serious now, how scary."

"Five minutes, Chae—"

“Bullshit.”

“Come on, let me up.”

"Or what, what are you going to—wait—what the—wait!"

It doesn't take much effort at all—face it, she's at best a hundred pounds soaking wet—but you're already on your feet, wrists free of her dainty fingers, holding her up with just one arm and a single hand palming an ample ass cheek.

You catch your breath as you stand, and she’s still reeling as the sudden balance shifts. She’s forced to cling to you, wrapping those long, toned legs around your waist, and looping her arms around your neck, her hands grasping at the back of your head as if she's afraid you're going to drop her.

"H-how the—how did you—I had you pinned!" Chaewon squeaks out, pure disbelief colouring her voice as she clings onto you.

You leave her to work through the logic on her own, returning to your desk, righting your fallen chair, all the while still holding Chaewon like a prize you've just won at an arcade.

"Hey! Don't ignore me!" Chaewon protests, but it's too late. You've already set her down on your desk, the laptop between the two of you like a barricade. She tries to keep her limbs wrapped around you, legs around your waist—do anything she can to stop you—but you gently, quite easily, peel her off—earning another scowl from your girlfriend.

You can feel Chaewon's eyes boring into you as you sit down at your desk, her legs swinging back and forth from the edge of the desk in frustration. The work itself doesn't take long—you were being honest—just a minor grammar check here, fixing some formatting there and—

"What was that? How did you just—”

It's the first time you've ever seen Kim Chaewon—usually so composed and untouchable on stage—so completely, utterly flustered.

"I don't get it. I mean did you just get this strong?" Chaewon's voice is small, barely heard over the sound of your keystrokes—trying to process what just happened. She's shifted on the desk, leaning back now on her palms, looking at you like you're a puzzle piece that doesn't fit anywhere at all. "Or have you always been—you were just—were you letting me win? Hey—why are you laughing?"

You hit a final 'enter', saving your work with a performative flair, and spin the chair around to face Chaewon so you can give her your full, undivided attention.

But she's not looking at you—no, she's still trying to make sense of it, her gaze flitting from the chair, to the floor, to the laptop, to your hands that are now folded neatly in your lap. You're expecting a comeback, something witty and biting, something that'll make you laugh, but she's just sitting there—pouting. Adorably so.

"Chae, come on."

"What?" She snaps out of her daze, the hardware in her head overclocking. "I just—I exercise way more than you—I run, I dance everyday, I go to the gym, I do pilates—you can't be that much stronger than me."

"I'm like twice your size, Chae." You chuckle, reaching for the water bottle on your desk and taking a well-earned swig. "And I do manage to sneak in some workouts when you're not around to tickle me to death."

"But... this whole time?" Chaewon asks, there’s an accusation in her voice as she crosses her arms over her chest, inadvertently distracting you with the way it makes her sweatshirt pull tightly across her breasts. It's too fucking cute, and you can't help but lean in for a kiss, but she turns her head away at the last second. "Every time, you've been taking it easy on me? Kiddie gloves?"

You sigh. "More or less."

"Why?"

"I guess I thought you knew," you say with a sheepish smile, "but even then, I didn't want to spoil the fun for you." You take another sip of water, watching her carefully. "You're so competitive, Chae. And when we’re playing like this and you win, you're so... happy. I just like seeing that."

"But that's..." Chaewon stammers. "Even when we're... You know... You're so... Gentle with me."

"Of course, I never want to—I'm just afraid that—"

"Afraid of what? That you'll break me? Okay, Bruce Banner." Chaewon teases, seemingly having made some decision in her own mind, as she hops off the desk to face you. "So, you've been holding back? You really think you’re that much stronger than me?”

You give her a very cautious shrug.

"Prove it."

"What?"

"If you’re really as strong as you think. Show me. Here—take my wrists—" Chaewon says, holding them out to you, "—and I bet I'll still be able to break free like I always do."

“I’m not sure if this is such a good idea,” you say, setting your bottle aside and standing up to face her.

“Why? Chicken?” She answers, and you try not to facepalm, reminding yourself that it is easier to just give her what she wants—most of the time, anyway.

"Alright, if that's what you want," you reply, gently placing your hands on her shoulders and guiding her so her back is flat against the nearest wall. She's staring up at you the whole time, watching you intensely as you take both her wrists in one hand, holding it against the wall and above her head.

"Really, only one hand? This will be real easy to get out of—" Chaewon starts to taunt, but she never gets to finish her sentence, because your grip tightens around her wrists and she feels the full weight of your body pressing into hers. She tries to pull away, expecting the same give she's felt countless times before, but your hand is like a vice—firm and unyielding—and it dawns on her that she's not going anywhere.

Her eyes widen slightly, and she tries to hide her surprise—because she's still in the game, still playing along. She tries to push off from the wall with her legs, but you anticipate it, placing a hand on her waist and keeping her in place.

Even you're surprised at how little effort it is to keep her still—a small push here, a slight change in weight there—Chaewon is at your mercy and it feels... different.

"Wait—I can't—" Chaewon still hasn’t given up, squirming and wiggling, doing little to help her escape but a lot to make you want to keep her against you.

She's trapped, every move she makes only making it worse for her—better for you—moulding her body closer into yours, aligning the softness of her curves with the hard lines of your chest.

But still, she struggles, tries every way she can think of to break free—twisting, turning, pushing with her legs, even trying to bite you at one point—but her best efforts only make you chuckle, and press her harder into the wall, press yourself harder into her.

You can feel her heart racing beneath her sweatshirt, and there's something there—you both feel it—a sudden tension in her helplessness, a thrill in your newfound power over her. "Damn it—this is so—argh!"

Chaewon’s eyes meet yours, and there’s your confirmation—that spark of something new, something unspoken. It's not anger or fear—no, she's never looked at you with fear—it's something else entirely. It's excitement, curiosity, a hint of arousal.

And so, you lean in, closing the last gap between you, and kiss her—right there against the wall.

It's not the gentle peck she's used to, it's not the sweet, loving kiss she’s grown to expect—it's more. You don’t even understand it yourself—it's raw, it's passionate, it's the kind of kiss that could start a war—or end one—the kind of kiss that sucks all the air from the room.

Her body tenses up, and for a moment you fear that maybe this is too much, too far, and you ready to let her go.

But she melts into it—into you. You let go of her wrists to cradle her face, and her arms fall to your shoulders, wrapping around your neck as she kisses you back—kisses you like she doesn't want you to ever stop, like she knows she couldn't stop you even if she tried. Her nails dig into your skin, not painfully, but with enough pressure to remind you that she's here, that she's alive and real and in this moment with you.

You push her into the wall, the plaster giving a gentle protest, and she’s lifting her legs up—she’s straddling you again, gravity doing its job and keeping her affixed to your torso.

Chaewon adapts, her ankles lock behind your back, pressing herself against you, her thighs tightening around your waist, and she’s hips grinding down over your sweatpants.

It’s almost too much, too fast—zero to a hundred in record time. You break the kiss, panting, breathless, but Chaewon's eyes stay closed, her chest heaving, as if she's afraid that if she opens them, this moment will evaporate like a mirage.

"Enough proof for you?"

"Yeah," is all Chaewon can muster, and she opens her eyes, dazed, like you’ve just woken her up from a particularly good dream.

"I'm sorry," you say, the words coming out in a rush, "I didn't mean to lie to you, I just didn't want to ruin your fun. Are you upset?"

"Upset?" Chaewon repeats, letting the word roll around her lips. "Maybe a little bit," she's biting her lip—so endearingly—and you can see the wheels turning in her head—recalculating, reassessing. "But now I'm just..." she pauses, looking down and rolling her hips against you once more, "I'm just really, really turned on."

Her admission hangs in the air between the two of you, and the air in your apartment begins to feel hotter, thicker, laced with something new.

"I love how you take care of me, how you make me feel safe..." Chaewon continues, "But this... the way you're holding me up like this... So easily, it's just so..." Another shifting of weight, another grind of her hips, and she’s slowly discovering what your sweatpants is making very little to hide. "Hot."

"Is that right?" You can't take your eyes off her lips, the way they form those delicious words. Maybe you've been wrong to treat her like she's fragile, like you could hurt her if you're not careful enough. Maybe what she’s really been craving is to prove herself to you, to prove to you that she can handle you—all of you. "Tell me what you like about it."

"I like how—ah—" Her voice hitches as you let go of her waist with your hand, sliding it under her sweatshirt, running your fingers over her toned stomach, feeling it cave in a sharp inhale. "How in control you are. How strong you feel."

Even without your hand at her waist she doesn't fall—her legs simply tighten around your waist, her grip on your neck becoming more secure, more possessive. You trace her belly button with your fingertip—her breath catches, her eyes flutter shut.

"How it feels like you could do—mmm—" she continues, her words getting lost as your hand rises higher up her body, reaching the swell of her breasts. Chaewon arches her back, pushing her chest out for more, a soft mewl escaping her lips. “—could do anything to me and I wouldn't be able to stop you."

You slip your fingers under her bra, the fabric stretching to accommodate your touch, press your thumb against her nipple, feeling it pebble under your touch. You pinch and roll them lightly, basking in her reactions, the way her eyebrows furrow, the way her mouth forms a perfect 'O'.

"I can do anything I want to you."

Chaewon's eyes open, and she’s looking at you like she’s seeing someone entirely different in place of her usual, doting boyfriend. She's panting, her chest rising and falling rapidly, her cheeks a glowing shade of red that seems to spread down her neck and into the fabric of her sweatshirt. She opens her mouth, her breath coming out in short, sharp gasps, and she whispers—"Will you?"

Two simple words. Two simple words that unlock something deep inside you. Something primal. The thing inside each man since the dawn of time that drives them to hunt, kill, fuck like their lives depend on it.

Two simple words that have you leaning in and kissing her again, not just her lips—your mouth traces a fiery path along her jawline, the tender spot behind her ear, down her neck. Each kiss is a promise of what's to come, each nip of your teeth makes her shiver.

Chaewon gasps, her body writhing under your touch, her legs tightening around your waist, desperate and afraid you'll pull away. You don't. Instead, you press into her, feeling the wetness spreading through her shorts, and it takes all your self-control to not rip them off her right there.

"Bedroom," she manages to get out, a soft, fleeting whimper between kisses, "take me to the—"

You never find out the end of her sentence—twisting her body around, your hands cupping the firm, round globes of her ass, and in a single, swift motion, you lift her higher, throwing her up and over your shoulder.

"Wai—" Chaewon squeals as you hoist her up, her legs dangling in the air, has ass pointing to the sky.

She's giggling again, the sound muffled by the fabric of your sweatshirt, her laughter vibrating through your back as you carry her across the apartment.

"I can't believe you're actually doing this—" she's still giggling, managing to separate herself from your back to chide you,

"—you're so strong it's unfair—",

"—treating me like I weigh nothing—" ,

"—like a caveman—",

"—I'm going to have to tell the others about this—",

"—they won't believe it—",

"—I don't even believe it—",

"—my what a big, strong boyfriend I ha—"

But she's cut off again as you kick open the already ajar bedroom door, the wood slamming against the wall. Before she can realise what's happening you're throwing her onto the bed, her body bouncing once before she lands in a sprawled mess of limbs and exclamations.

"Are you ever going to let me finish a full sen—"

"Chae," her name comes out deeper and gruffer—far more demanding than you intended, cutting off her playful protests in an instant.

For once, Chaewon is paying full attention—no quips, no sarcasm, no laughter to lighten the mood—the room completely quiet except for the sound of her breathing, and even that seems to hush in anticipation of what's to come.

You stand over her, her legs still in the air, her body open and exposed for you—her sweatshirt riding up, revealing the smooth expanse of her stomach, the little mole you've kissed a thousand times just above her navel, her shorts stretched so tightly over her thighs.

It's in the way she's looking at you too—the way she squirms under your gaze, the way she can't help but make her body arch up towards you, pushing out those beautiful, perfect breasts, slightly parting her legs as if inviting you to dive in—wanting you to take her (to fuck her) in all the ways you wanted to but were too afraid to try before—it's all so different, all too much, all so fucking intoxicating.

"You want me to do whatever I want to you?"

Chaewon swallows hard, and nods.

"You want me to take you however I want?"

Another nod, another submission.

You step closer to the bed, your mind completely made up. "Then say it."

Her voice comes out hoarse, a strained whisper. "Take me."

"Again."

She repeats it, this time her words clearer, urgent. "Please—take me."

And with that—her shorts—those tight, far too tiny shorts—become your first victim. There's no time for slow, teasing unbuttoning or the gentle tug of fabric over skin. You're too far gone for that.

So, you rip.

The button pops off with a satisfying ping, and the material gives way, revealing her panties beneath. The sound makes Chaewon gasp, her body shiver.

Hooking your thumbs in the waistband, you drag the shorts down her legs, bringing them gliding over the soft skin of her ass, catching briefly on her thighs before you toss them to the floor.

Her panties are next—white, cotton, and oh-so-innocent looking—the kind tailor-made to be ripped off and left in shreds. But just as your hand reaches the waistband, something holds you back.

A thought—a flicker of doubt—crosses your mind. What if she doesn't like this? What if you're getting caught up and taking things too far? What if she regrets what she's about to let you do to her?

But then, "I'm okay," Chaewon says, reading your hesitation. "Stop thinking like that." Her voice is firm, almost commanding. "I want this."

"Chae—"

"I. Want. This." Chaewon repeats, her voice stronger. “I want it all.”

You trust her—you always will—and so, you nod, understanding the gravity of her words. You lean over her, capturing her gaze, making sure she sees you, really sees you. "Alright, but we need a safe word."

"A safe word." Chaewon echoes, a smile rising on her face, as she realises what a safe word means—what it enables you to do to her.

"If you want me to stop," you say, slowly, like a professor and his star pupil. "Just say..."

"Blueberry," Chaewon interjects, the corner of her mouth curling up into a mischievous smile.

"Blueberry?" It's so unfitting, so fucking adorable, so Chae. "Fine then, if you want me to stop," you begin to explain the rules of the game that you're already starting—kissing down her calf, over her knee, down that gorgeous curve of her inner thigh, until your lips are meeting cotton— "you just say 'blueberry'. As loud as you can, the second you want me to stop. Otherwise, we keep going until I'm satisfied. Got it?"

Chaewon nods eagerly, a little too eagerly, but you don't miss the glint of excitement in her eyes. She's so ready for you, so ready for what's to come next, her body vibrating with anticipation.

"Good."

The single word hangs in the air, a declaration of intent. With it, your hand moves to her panties, the cotton material damp with her arousal. You don't hesitate, you don't play it slow, again—all it takes is your thumb in her waistband and you rip. What were once her panties gives way easily, tearing with a sound that's halfway might as well be a starting pistol, revealing her bare, already glistening, already so wet pussy to the coolness of the room.

But Chaewon's not just lying there waiting for you to make your next move. No, she's not that kind of girl. She's sitting up now, her sweatshirt coming off with a flick of her wrists, the heavy garment flying through the air to land somewhere in the room, forgotten.

Her bra follows suit—quick, efficient, like she couldn't wait another second to be naked for you. Chaewon's breasts bounce free, full and firm and so fucking perfect, rosy tips hard from the cold air or maybe just from the way you're looking at her.

Fuck, the sight of her alone is almost too much. You take a moment, just to breathe her in—to admire the way the light from the bedside lamp casts shadows on her skin, highlighting the curves and valleys of her body. She's a work of art, a masterpiece, and now, she's all yours—every line, every freckle, every goosebump that pops up as the cool air kisses her heated skin.

But you're not here to admire, not now. You're here to give her exactly what she wants, to treat her exactly how she deserves.

You push her back into the bed, your hands on her shoulders, the mattress sinking under your joint weight, and you're kissing her again—no, not kissing, consuming. You kiss her like you're trying to claim her, like you're trying to brand her with your mouth, and she's kissing you back with matched desperation, her nails digging into your skin like she's trying to climb you, to get closer, closer still.

"Mmmm..." Chaewon presses herself up against you—her taut, stiff nipples pushing into your chest, perfect buds squashing themselves against your body, her bare skin gliding over your shirt, her pussy, hot and wet and slippery, working its way over the swell of your sweatpants.

Her hands are everywhere—fumbling with your shirt, running up and down your back, grabbing fistfuls of your hair—and her lips follow, peppering kisses across your cheeks, your jaw, your neck. Her teeth graze the sensitive skin just below your ear, her tongue tracing the shell, her lips whispers sweet—filthy—nothings into your ear.

She dares to move a hand lower, squeezing in some tiny gap between your two bodies, reaching for the waistband of your sweatpants, her fingers teasing the skin just above the elastic.

But you're quicker, catching her wrist, pulling it away with a firm, yet gentle grip.

"No."

You collect her other wrist in the same hand, stretching her arms out and over her head, pushing her down—with your grip, your weight, your hips—keeping her in place, keeping her where you want, paying her back in kind for her earlier “victory”.

"I know what you want," you murmur against her neck. You lean more of your weight into her, your hips pressing down, grinding against her—a slow, deliberate movement, that stains your sweatpants with the juices leaking from her pink, puffy lips.

"Yes," she purrs, "I need you."

"I know," you taunt—another grind, another groan, a deepening stain, "but I need you to want me more."

"I do," she's pleading, begging, "please, I need your cock."

"Not yet," you say, a light chuckle at the whine that escapes her lips. "Not yet."

"But—"

"I am going to fuck you," you say. "Not how you're used to." Her breath hitches, throat swallows—apprehension, arousal, adrenaline—it's all there, playing out on her face like a silent movie. "I'm going to fuck you in every way that I've ever wanted to, in every way I thought you could never handle."

You snake a hand from her waist, drawing a path with your fingertips, running them over her soft, unblemished skin, the ridges of her abs, as you move your hand down, down, until you're right at the juncture of her thighs.

"Ah!" It's the sweetest sound, a high-pitched gasp that turns into a full-throated groan as your index finger breaches her wetness, sliding into the slick, dripping opening of her cleanly shaved cunt—so, so wet—until it's buried knuckle-deep inside her.

Chaewon's back lifts off the bed, her body curving as you slide your finger in and out of her, settling into a steady rhythm. Every movement earns a different, delightful reaction—you trigger your finger: her body shakes, you kiss her neck: she echoes back your name, you add your middle, then your ring finger into her tightness: she falls apart.

"God—gah—" she chokes on whatever noise her mouth is trying to make, her legs spreading wider, hips bucking up to meet your hand, your rhythm. She's beyond soaked; her thighs, her lips, your palm—all drenched in hot, insatiable wetness. "You're so—so fucking good at this."

You add your thumb to the mix, brushing the hood of her clit with the pad; you curl your fingers inside her, finding that spot that makes her crumble.

Her eyes start to close, she’s lost to the sensation, her face contorting in beautiful agony as her walls close around your digits, before you snap her out of it—tightening your grip around her wrists, a slight jolt of pain to force her eyes to meet yours.

"Look at me," you grunt. "Look at me while I fuck you."

Chaewon doesn't dare even blink—she’s so obedient—and the way she's looking up at you now—so willing, so wanting to please, so eager for more—it's bordering on complete worship.

So, you give it to her. You plunge your fingers deeper, twisting and turning, feeling her tighten around you, her wetness coating your hand, the walls of her pussy fluttering with each stroke. You can see it in the redness of her cheeks, the trembling of her thighs, the way her stomach muscles tighten and release—she's close, she’s been so close for far too long.

"Good girl." You kiss her forehead, her nose, her dimples, something sweet amongst the depravity.

"Am I?" Chaewon's question is hopeful, so disastrously erotic, her voice a breathy whisper. There's the beginnings of a storm in her eyes, the first hints painting her features in a way that's so vulnerable, that tells you the only thing holding her back from collapsing is your explicit approval.

"Yes, Chae," you murmur against her ear, nibbling gently, your fingers melting inside her folds. "You're being such a good girl for me."

"Th-thank you," she manages shaky words, barely keeping it together, at the mercy of the quickening of your fingers, the circling of your thumb, the movements of your hand, helping her climb towards that wonderful peak. "Oh my God—how are you—how is this—so—fuck—fuck—"

"Good girls deserve a reward." You're roughly kissing into her collarbone, feeling her pulse hammering under your lips—you want to leave a mark on her body, something for her to remember this by—something to remind her how completely she came apart for you. "Cum for me—cum now—cum on my fingers. Show me how much you want it—how much you love it."

"Please," Chaewon's desperate, so desperate, trying to do something, anything, everything that she can to convince you to let her fall apart. "I love how you touch me—just—please—I’m so close—"

She’s on fire, there’s too much pressure—your fingers work inside her, undoing a knot of their own making—unravelling that slutty ache inside your girlfriend—your good girl—fucking her and stretching her, making her eyes roll to the back of her head and her mouth to drop open in a silent scream.

"So good—so fucking good—just like that—mmmm-MMMPH!"

You breathe it in—your mouth on hers, her cries dying in your throat—feeling her tighten, tense, release around your hand as her small, tight frame—her whole, amazing body—overwhelmed by just three fingers and a thumb.

It takes her like an eruption, a natural disaster—dancing along her skin, to her hips, her thighs, her ribs, her breasts—turning her into a shivering mess, leaving her limp beneath you.

"Fuh—"

You release her lips, watching her pant and quiver, her chest heave, her body spasm from the aftershocks of her climax.

Your hand is drowned in her heat, her juices sticking to your skin as you slowly draw your fingers out of her, glistening in the soft light of the room.

"Here, have a taste." You lift your hand to her face, tracing your sticky fingers along the seam of her mouth, smearing her juices over her soft, parted lips.

Chaewon's tongue darts out, welcoming your digits as you push inside her mouth. She sucks greedily, her tongue lapping your fingertips—she can't get enough of the taste of herself on you.

"Good girl," you say again, and again—she shivers.

The tremors of her orgasm start to fade, and you pull your fingers from her mouth—no longer lathered in her cum, but shiny with her spit.

You straighten, leaning back so you're on your knees, between Chaewon's spread legs. Her eyes follow your hand as it leaves her wrist, traveling up to the neck of your shirt, pulling it off your head and reuniting it with the growing pile of discarded clothing.

Her gaze wanders down, down your body, landing at your waist, at your pants, painfully stretching over your erection.

"Take it out for me, Chae," you instruct, unnecessarily—she's already there, licking her lips, quick at work. Practiced fingers pull down your sweatpants and set your cock free, letting it spring into view, hard and heavy, landing directly on her lips.

But she doesn't get the chance to take it in her mouth, to swirl her tongue around the tip and suck you like she's so clearly been dying to—you have her by the hair before she can dive on your cock, to take it down her throat. It's harsh, it's sudden, it elicits a startled groan from her throat—but it makes it clear that this is not going to be the usual 'good little girl' kind of night.

"No," is all you have for her. You're on the edge—you've been on the edge ever since she pleaded for you—you’re done with the foreplay; you're done with the teasing. Fucking Chaewon senseless. That’s all there is now—fucking her hard and fast.

You pull her up by her hair and your mouth is back on hers, pushing and pulling, tongue in her throat, tasting her—tasting her nectar on her lips—dominating her, her own tongue dancing and wrapping around yours, her teeth grazing your bottom lip.

Your other hand finds its way to her chest, squeezing her breast in your palm, feeling the weight of it, the softness of her skin, the hardened peak of her nipple against your palm. There's not enough time—you want to shove your face between them, taste her nipples, feel them roll between your teeth, give them the attention they deserve.

But instead, you're pulling back on her hair again, gritting your teeth. "Turn around. Bend over."

There's no hesitation, no protest from her—Chaewon's a good girl, and good girls do as they’re told. She rolls onto her hands and knees, her ass in the air—she's presenting herself to you: an offering, a prize, a fucking goddess on a platter. Her spine arches as she looks back at you over her shoulder, the soft curve of her cheeks begging for you to take it.

You startle her, taking her by the hips, pulling her back to you so that when you lean in, your mouth is pressed to her ear, and your cock is twitching against the waiting, wanting, folds of her lower lips. "I'm going to make you feel it," you whisper. "Every part of you, understand?"

Chaewon nods, but it's not enough—not for what you have in store.

"I don't just want a nod, I want to hear you say it. I want you to tell me how good it feels while I'm fucking you—I want to hear it all."

"O-Okay.” She’s tense, you can see it, like a coil winded up in her body, but she's eager, so fucking eager, been waiting for this for far too long—"make me scream for you—FUCK!"

Chaewon's true to her word—she shrieks as you bury yourself deep inside her, is undone by your cock—as ready and wet as she is for you, she's still so incredibly tight, needing you to stretch her, fill her, own her.

But it's not enough—you’re not going to ease her into this, to the pleasure ripping through your bodies, not going to let this moment breathe.

As soon as you've sunk into her, given her every inch that her needy little pussy could take, you're backing up, sliding your stained shaft right out of her cunt before slamming back forward.

She's crying out, making barely intelligible sounds, as you’re digging your fingers into that tiny waist, holding her by her hips as you crash into her, feeling it all—the unfathomable heat, the tightness, the wetness, the way she clenches around you with each thrust—again and again and again.

"Words, Chae," you remind her, needing more from than just the sounds of her sweet, sweet agony, and the slapping of your hips against her ass cheeks. "I want words."

"Y-yes—fuh—fuck—YES!" One-syllable noises are all that Chaewon can manage to start—all you can fuck out of her—but with each thrust, she's getting better, getting bolder. "It feels so good, so hard, so big—God, so deep—you've never—I've never been fucked like this…"

"More." It's addictive, hearing her talk like this, knowing every word that comes out of her mouth is the absolute fucking truth—the proof is in how she's shaking beneath you, how she drips around you, how her fingers claw into the sheets, trying her best to hold on. “Tell me more.”

"Y-you're going so fast—so fucking hard!" Mindless, stream-of-consciousness, fuck-drunk ramblings spill from her lips—she's begging, cooing, whimpering as you mercilessly fuck her, making her divine tits swing below her, her ass ripple with each collision. "Making me so wet—making me so fucking wet—I can't even—can't think straight—just your cock—your fucking cock!"

"This is what you wanted, isn't it Chae?" You hiss, over the sounds of the headboard slamming against the wall, the bed creaking beneath you, and her moans—oh those moans. "This is how I'm going to fuck you from now on—however I want, wherever I want, whenever I want."

"Yes-yes—this is what I want—what I fucking need. To be fucked like this—pounded—broken—so fucking sensitive." The words come so easily from her lips, straight from the pleasure centres of her brains and to your ears. "I deserve this—I've been so good—haven't I? Aren't I your good girl—please tell me I'm your good girl—please?"

"You're my good girl, Chae, you’re my perfect little slut," you acquiesce, and she cries out in relief, her body shaking under the weight of your words—she leans into your touch, your control, your cock. "And good girls get what they fucking deserve."

Another thrust has Chaewon bowing her head down to offer more of herself to you, to give you a better angle to pump her harder, deeper, laying her cheek on the bed and turning her face so you can see that blissful grin on her face, see her lips mouth your name like a prayer.

It's so perfect—she's so fucking perfect—so impossibly tight, a ridiculously wet dream of a cunt—"all yours, all yours"—so aching for you to fuck her straight into the mattress—"I can't take it"—so needy for you—"use me"—so hungry for you—"more—please—I need it."

You're giving in—giving long, intense strokes—you're consumed by it, by her, by how every lovely curve and tensed muscle of her immaculate body is doing its best to take you, to please you, to give you a fraction of the ecstasy that’s breaking her into a million tiny, euphoric pieces.

"God, I love it—love your cock—pounding me—fucking me—hurting me—I can't even think—GOD!" She's doing her best to form coherent sentences, but it's futile, she's slipping—you're not even sure if she's aware of what she's even saying anymore—it's just raw, unfiltered need.

This is going to be a problem—you're never going to be able to go back. Not when she's so needy for you—so needy to be filled by you, so needy to hear your praise as she takes your cock, so full of nothing but words of thanks for how roughly you're treating her, how you're completely ruining her—"thank you—thank you—thank you for fucking me so good."

And then you're falling, a deep, sharp thrust and you’ve sent her forward—her knees give in first, her elbows buckle. She's taking you with her, pulling you by the cock still lodged deep in her cunt. You catch yourself before your face hits the bed, one hand on the mattress, the other still wrapped around her waist.

It does little to slow you down—just gives you a better vantage point to fuck her deeper into the mattress—"yes—yes—fuck—fuck—" —to run your hand up her body and seize her by her tits, so ripe and full and yours to squeeze and twist and tease— "touch me—hurt me—it's all yours—all fucking yours."

And you do—oh, you do—you take her by the tits, feeling the soft flesh of her breasts give way to your grip, roll her nipple between your thumb and forefinger—so sensitive, so responsive. She's lost in it, so happy in the pain and pleasure of your touch—you're leaving another mark—and she cries, she curses, she clenches around you, she joins her hand over yours and pushes you for more, needing more of the loving sting you're giving her.

She’s pulsing on your shaft—walls tightening and quivering—she's so close, so fucking close to cumming—and your body responds, your cock thickens, your strokes powerful, purposeful. "I can't—I can't—baby, please—please—please—"

"You're going to cum for me now, aren't you?" You ask, like it's a question, like you can't see the tension building in her body, can’t see how she's holding her breath and gritting her teeth—it's so fucking obvious she's about to explode.

"Yes—yes—I'm about to—about to—FUCK! I can't fucking take this anymore!"

You take her by the throat—twisting her face so you can see it—you need to see it—need to see the moment she breaks for you. "Look at me," you demand—her eyes rolling up to meet yours, all teary and flawless and beautiful— "look at me when I make you cum."

"God yesssss," Chaewon gurgles, shivers, quakes, "please—please—I'm cumming—I'm cumming— I'm cumming on your fucking cock—OH FUCK!"

Your name leaves her lips in a long, symphonic, slurred cry—and she cums—not in that lovely, beautiful way you've seen her orgasm dozens of times before—this is overpowering, consuming, violent—a million tiny deaths—one magnum opus—sculpted by the Gods and utterly ruined in all ways possible, reduced once again to nothing but a mess of quivers and mewls and moans—pushed over the edge by your cock, forcing her to gush down her thighs.

She's clenching and wringing and doing everything she can to bring you with her—"God—so fucking good—I’m cumming so hard—GOD! I just need—I want it—please give it—give me your cum—fill me with it—do whatever you want to me just give it to me!"

Her eyes are open again—she's inflicted with the same curse as you—she needs to see it, see the look in your eyes as you fill her, finally claim her in her entirety as yours, finally join and become undone in the same preciously brutal ways.

"Keeeep going—cum in me—cum in me—" It’s becoming a mantra now—three short words—as if there was any other option, as if she had any choice. As much as you want to hold on, to drag this out, to savour every second of this chaos—fucking her silly, viciously, tight pussy choking your cock, she won't stop, refuses to— "cum in me—cum in me—cum in me -"

"You want it? You need it? Does your cunt need my cum?"

"Y-yes, please—fuck—fill me up—fuck me up—fill—me—fucking—PLEASE!"

She's a vision, a goddess, she's yours, she's—"Fuck, Chae, god-fucking-take-it!"—she's taking your cum like the fucking slut she is.

God, it feels dizzying, a high so perfect it must be illegal, making your vision dark and your ears ring—the only thing tethering you to the Earth itself is the feeling of her burning hot cunt, the cunt you're fucking like its only purpose in this world is to make your cock feel good.

You’re speeding towards the final stretch now—hard and rough and somehow lasting forever but ending far too soon. Nothing matters except for her exceptionally tight hole, taking you—all of you, everything you have—and you’re clinging onto her—her tits, her throat—you’re bruising and choking her, your body crushing her into the bed, and she's still screaming your fucking name like she's so damn grateful to you for treating her like she deserves.

And then, you let go.

"Fuck, fuck, fuck, baby, oh my fucking God," Chaewon groans, "It's so much—you're filling me up— oh, fuck, oh, fuck, OH FUCK!"

It’s a car crash, a pressure valve opening, it’s too fucking much—you can’t hold back—she can’t possibly take anymore.

It burns through you both—the first, the second, the third—rope after rope after rope of cum firing into her sore, well-fucked cunt, filling it completely to the brim. All the lust, all the tension, everything, all at once, released at once in a tidal wave of white into Chaewon's swollen, sopping wet pussy.

“SO GOOD—SO FUCKING FULL!”

One final thrust—one shared cry—like nothing you’ve ever felt before—like you’re being torn apart and reassembled, piece by piece—and you collapse into her, your bodies melting into one— boneless and shaking in the aftermath of it all.

Chaewon’s cumdump of a pussy is still twitching around you—still begging for more, milking your cock even though it’s already given everything it can, every drop it has—making it impossible for you to pull out without feeling like you're leaving a part of yourself behind.

Eventually—when the numbness subsides and you're able to move again—you slide off her, onto your side, slipping your spent cock out of her well-fucked pussy. It's an image that you burn into core of your brain—her ass in the air, your cum dripping from her, the puddle of you leaking from her glistening folds and pooling on your ruined bedsheets.

"So good... so good..." Chaewon's slurring, drifting—fucked out of consciousness—already lost in some blissful, post-orgasmic dream.

That's where you follow her, exhaustion seeping into every bone in your body, and you're slipping down, down and away into that heavenly oblivion.

When you awake, Chaewon's curled into you—your chest is her pillow, your arms her blanket. She's still (thankfully) naked—your cum drying on her thighs, and she's awake, lazily drawing circles with her finger around your heartbeat.

"Hey," you say, kissing the top of her head, getting her attention.

She looks up at you—God, she's so fucking beautiful—a soft smile on her lips. "Hi."

"That was..." You dare to start, but the words catch in your throat.

"Perfect," Chaewon finishes for you, "so fucking perfect."

"Are you sure? I got lost in the moment there, Chae, I—" The ghost of an apology is on your lips, but Chaewon's eyes widen, and she slaps a hand over your mouth.

"Don't," Chaewon stops you, "don't ruin it with an apology. I wanted that. Needed it. More than I thought, I guess. It was amazing."

You look down at her, so small in your arms, searching her face for any hint of doubt or regret, but all you can find is perfect contentment.

And she's smiling, so sweetly, so happily. So Chaewon. The slutty cum dumpster, the adorable princess—the woman of your dreams.

She’s giggling still, tracing wider patterns on your chest, her breath warm against your skin. "You were incredible," she presses her nose into your neck and inhales deeply. "I never knew you had that in you."

"I didn't either," you admit, stroking her hair, looping strands between your fingers. "I had no idea how much I'd like it—how good it would feel. I mean I love getting to hold you like this—hugging you and kissing you, but—"

"It's nice to not have to treat me like I'm made of glass, isn't it?" She finishes. A beat passes, before Chaewon tables her final request. "You know, that thing you called me, while we were..."

Her voice trails off, and she's blushing now—the kind of blush that makes you want to kiss her, kiss it off her cheeks, kiss her until she's blushing all over again. "I think I called you a lot of things that probably shouldn't be repeated outside of this room." You say, and she’s laughing, slapping your chest lightly.

"You know what I'm talking about," she says. "Call me it again. Please? Can you?"

You laugh, bending down so you can steal a kiss—as light and sweet as she is—but it’s still far, far shorter than you'd like.

She's pouting, doe-eyes wide and hopeful—so Goddamn adorable—and you can't resist, after all—it's always best to give your girlfriend exactly what she wants.

"My good girl," you murmur into her ear, "my perfect little slut."

#kpop smut #chaewon smut #le sserafim smut #male reader

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hyuniepies · 2 months ago

Text

Chef's Kiss - Bang Chan

pairing : bangchan x fem!reader

summary : your husband chan came home from a long day at work and knew exactly what he needed to relax.

contains : soft dom!chan, unprotected sex, fingering, nipple play, size kink, praise kink, belly bulge, slight overstimulation, creampie

words : 2.2k

Ever since you and Chan got married, it felt like the two of you managed to grow even more obsessed with each other. Whether you were at work or running errands, all you could think about was seeing him and you found it impossible to put off the urge to be with him at all times. You knew the problem was mutual as Chan had gotten so much more clingy, unable to spend a single second away from you.

However it soon became so much harder for you to spend time together as work piled up and your hectic schedules failed to align. At times you would come home late from work and find him passed out on the couch, and other times you would fall asleep waiting for him.

The clock strikes nine as you stand in front of the stove, stirring the pan of pasta as the savoury aroma lingers in the air. The only audible sound was the bubbling of the thick pasta sauce and your occasional sighs as you waited for Chan to arrive from his work meeting which happened to go on for a lot longer than you liked.

Just as your frustration starts to kick in, you hear the front door swing open and the sound of your husband Chan’s comforting voice echoes through your shared apartment.

“Baby I'm home.” He calls out to you as he drops his bag and walks to the kitchen. You look over your shoulder and there he is, standing with a soft smile which sadly failed to conceal his exhaustion. Your face lights up as you feel his soothing presence envelop you.

He walks over to you and wraps his arms around your waist, his tired face resting in the crook of your neck.

“Mmm smells so good.” He mutters as he takes a long inhale and you're unsure if he refers to the food you're cooking.

“I know you're starving but it's almost done, so just a few more minutes.” You tell him and shift your attention back to the pan of pasta.

“Well, then can I spend some time with the chef first?” He asks as he plants a small kiss on the skin of your neck.

You can't help but giggle, “You could but, then you'll have to eat a cold dinner.”

“It's alright.” he mumbles in your neck as his right hand reaches for the stove knob and twists it, turning it off.

You turn around to face him, your expression a mixture of affection and concern as you stare at him. “You literally just got back, you need some rest.”

Chan’s grip around your waist tightens and he pulls you closer to himself, his body flush against yours. “But…I need you more.” He whispers as his hand sneaks behind you to find the flesh of your ass and gives it a light squeeze.

You wince at his sudden touch and look up at him. He lifts his other arm and uses his fingers to cup your face as he gently strokes his thumb across your cheek. The look on his face is soft yet filled with desire as his half-lidded eyes stare into yours.

His eyes shift to your lips and his face slowly gets closer, and closer to yours until your face is just a few inches apart from his. You shut your eyes closed and instantly feel his plump lips delicately press onto yours.

The kiss starts off sweet and slow, your lips gracefully moving against each other in a perfect rhythm, as if meant to fit together. Even though it was nothing special, your heart is racing as if it's the first time you've ever kissed.

Chan grows impatient and flicks his tongue against your lips, demanding your permission. You are quick to respond and soon enough, the movements of your hot mouths become faster and more aggressive.

His hand drops from your face to hook tightly around your waist and he picks you up. You immediately wrap your legs around his torso and grab onto his shoulders to steady yourself as you continue kissing him.

He turns around and takes a few steps towards the kitchen counter opposite to the stove, placing you on the cold marble surface. Chan pulls away and his mouth trails down to suck at the soft skin of your neck and exposed collarbones.

You tip your head back slightly, giving him better access to work his mouth on every inch of your burning skin. You hold the back of his head, fingers tangled in his hair as small sighs of pleasure escape your throat.

You feel his hand crawl under your sweater to gently massage the tender flesh of your breast, his fingertips circling around your perked nipple. He lightly pinches and rolls the hardened bud between his index finger and thumb.

“Ah…” A quiet moan slips from your lips, and you tug on the strands of his hair as the overwhelming feeling engulfs you.

Your reaction tempts Chan and he uses his free hand to cup the mound of your pussy, slowly palming it through the thin fabric of your shorts.

“So wet already?” He pulls back from your neck and taunts you as his fingers rub the moist patch you didn't even realize was forming on the cotton.

He skillfully slides his fingers up and down your clothed pussy and you bite your lip, your cunt dripping even wetter at the blissful sensation. Your clit throbs painfully in the confines of your soaking shorts, begging to be touched as his piercing eyes stare into yours. This makes you roll your hips towards him in an attempt to push his fingers deeper inside your folds.

“God, you're so desperate.” He utters in a low voice.

His hand stops moving and you suddenly feel his finger add pressure on the aching bundle of nerves in your pussy. Your back arches, head jerking back at the immense wave of arousal washing over you.

“Ugh- Chan…” You whimper in a pathetic tone as your hand drops from his head to grip the edge of the countertop.

“You like that?” He presses even harder on your swollen clit, while his other hand drops from your tit to rest on your thigh.

“Chan, please…”

“Please what?” He questions.

“I want you.”

“Come on, you can do better than that.” He says as he starts rubbing slow circles on your clit.

Your body squirms, unable to contain the heat pooling at your core any longer.

“Ah- please, I want you to fuck me.”

You look up at him with pleading eyes, mouth slightly parted and his expression softens at the sight. He removes his hand from your thigh and tucks a loose strand of hair behind your ear.

“Then I should give my baby what she wants.” His fingers grip the soft wool of your sweater and pull it up, taking it off of you and tossing it on the floor. He takes a second to admire your body, his eyes shifting from the hickeys he just left to your bare tits.

Chan reaches for the waistband of your shorts and you lift your hips up, making it easier for him to peel the piece of fabric off. You sit in front of him fully naked and he traces your figure with his eyes as if he had never seen you like this before.

“You're so fucking hot you know that?” He asks as his eyes come back up to meet yours and a shy smile spreads on your face.

Before you know it, his hand is back on your pussy, this time without the annoying fabric separating you from his touch. His digits travel downward till they lightly hover over your slicked core and without warning, his finger slips knuckle deep inside you.

“S-shit.” The sudden sensation makes you whimper and soon after, you feel him add another finger inside your aching cunt. He slowly pumps his long fingers in and out of you, small moans falling from your lips as your eyes pinch close.

He pulls his fingers out of you and you let out a sad whine at the loss of stimulation and look up at him.

“Lay back for me.” Chan commands, his voice almost a whisper.

You immediately lean backwards till the skin of your back hits the cool marble, your feet dangling in the air. His hands rush to unbutton his work shirt and he takes it off of himself before unzipping his pants. He pulls it down along with his underwear and you spread your legs even further apart, your juices dripping out onto the counter.

His cock jumps out, precum leaking from the red tip as he wraps his fingers around the thick shaft. Even though you've taken it so many times before, the sheer size of it never fails to intimidate you.

He taps his dick on your soppy cunt a few times, watching it clench around nothing in desperation. He slowly guides his fat tip into your hole and your jaw falls open as you feel your pussy stretch around his thick cock.

“Fuck, you're so tight.” He curses under his breath.

He continues pushing himself inside you inch by inch and your vision starts to blur, the heat in your abdomen threatening to spill.

“It’s s-so big.” You cry out as he fills you up.

“But you're taking me so well baby.”

Chan lets out a deep groan as the last bit of his length enters you and you feel his tip press against your cervix. Your brain goes fuzzy, the blood in your arteries boiling hot as he bottoms out in you.

“Your pretty pussy’s sucking me right in.” He praises as you clench around his base, pulling him deeper inside your gummy walls. His hands grab the back of your knees and he presses your legs down till they touch your chest, folding you in half.

He slides his dick out of you, till only his tip remains in your drenched cunt and slams it back into you with a harsh jerk of his hips. You feel the head of his cock hit the soft spot in your belly even harder this time.

“Ah- fuck!” A loud moan escapes your throat as he starts pounding in and out of your pussy at a fast pace and your body jolts up. You feel your bones turn to jelly, stars twinkling across your closed eyelids as the hot pit in your stomach sends vibrations through your nerves.

You lift your head from where it rested on the counter and look down to see his cock repeatedly bulge out of your belly with each thrust of his hips.

“Ugh- you're so deep!” You whine as the heat at your core continues spreading through you.

He lets go of one of your legs and places his veiny hand on your lower belly, pressing down on the bulge. He simultaneously picks up his pace, ramming into your spongy walls harder and faster and you throw your head back, tears pooling in the corners of your eyes.

“God, right there!” You almost yell out as his cock kisses your sweet spot over and over again. Chan's heavy panting mixed with the lewd squelching sounds of your pussy fill the kitchen air, but you are too fucked out to hear any of it.

His hands grab your waist, nails digging crescent shapes into your skin as you feel his veins pulsate and twitch inside your puffy cunt.

“Fucking shit!” He swears in a raspy voice.

His fingers move down to toy with your sensitive clit and your eyes roll to the back of your head. Your toes curl as you feel the familiar sensation build up between your legs, waiting to throw you over the edge anytime now.

“G-gonna cum!” You whimper loudly.

His next thrust hits you harder than you expect and sends your mind spiraling into another dimension as your long awaited orgasm rips through you. You squeal in a high pitched voice, your body shaking as Chan fucks you through your high.

“There you go baby, cum on my cock like a good girl.” He says as he chases his own high, his pace unsteady and sloppy.

He continues fucking into your overstimulated pussy and your muscles tightens, the intense pleasure almost unbearable. You open your eyes slightly and through your blurred vision, see Chan's eyes shut and his brows furrowed.

“Gonna fill you up so nice.”

Before your brain can process his words, he shoots his load deep into you as a low grunt exits his lips. You gasp as the warm white strings coat your walls and fill you up.

His thrusts slow down as he rides out his high, his cock sticky with your wetness and his own cum. He stops moving and pulls his dick out of your pussy, his cum dripping out of your hole.

You lay on the countertop, your chest rising and falling with each breath you take. You have no energy left in your body to sit up or enough brainpower to even try and Chan knows that.

He hooks his arm under your waist as his other hand supports the back of your neck and he pulls you up into his embrace. He holds you tight, the comforting warmth of his skin seeping into your body and you almost fall asleep right there.

“I missed you.” He says in a soft voice as he strokes your hair.

“I missed you too.”

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mintseung · 4 months ago

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I don't like waiting baby

💌: Don't mind my typos and grammar (I suck at grammars lol)

You heard the door opened, "Hey, baby," your boyfriend said as he opened the front door, removed his shoes, placed them on the shelf, and throw his bag on the couch. "I'm home," he smiled, walking towards you in the kitchen.

He hugged your waist and rested his chin on your shoulder, inhaling the aroma of the food you were cooking. "Mhm, I love the way you cook my ramen," he said with a contented sigh. "It's so much better than instant ramen."

"Tired from the work, baby?" you asked, turning off the stove and facing him as you wraped your arms around his neck.

He buries his face in your neck and mumbles. "Hungry already, love?" you ask as you pat his head. He slowly kisses your neck.

He looks up at you, then at your lips, and presses his lips to yours, making the kiss hard and passionate.

He lifted you up onto the counter and started to remove your shorts with your lips still attached with his, when you stopped him. "Not right now, baby," you said.

"Why?" he asked, pouting.

"I'm on my period right now, baby," you said as you kissed his cheeks. "But I've been craving for you all day!" He whines as he start to squish your tits hard making you moan softly. "Love, we just had sex this morning" you cross your arms while glaring at him.

"but I want right now" he looks at you with his Bambi eyes. "I have my monthly period baby, we can't have sex"

"I'll make your period gone for 9 months then," he said smirking, leaning in to kiss you while squishing your tits, but you stopped him.

"Wait for a week baby be patient, okay?" you said as you gracefully stepped down from the counter to fetch bowls for both you and Heeseung leaving him pouting while he looks at you walking away.

A week later you found yourself in bed with your legs on heeseung's shoulders as he pound himself inside your warm walls.

"Fuck baby, I missed your pussy so much" his balls hitting your skin every pound, while he lowers himself to suck your harden nipples.

"Keep your legs up" heeseung grunts as he watches your boobs bouncing up and down.

"Slo-slow down heeseung!" You said as you tried to touch his stomach signing him to stop.

Heeseung smacks your ass again, watching it turn red and becoming more aroused. He thought his cock was about to burst at any moment. "Such a little slut" he says. Heeseung leans over you and puts his hand back on your neck. His lips are practically on yours, He chokes you as his thrusts are never ending.

You let out a loud moan, Heeseung went down to your ear and whispered. "yeah? you like how i fuck you, baby? like how my cock stretches you out?" he smirks as he hold your throat.

Heeseung touches your lower abdomen feeling his bulge moving in and out inside you.

He smirks and throws his head behind as he poke his tongue to his cheeks.

His thrust getting harder, harsher, faster, you gasps and roll your eyes up into your skull feeling your orgasms closer and closer. "Mhm so tight, missed my dick so much hm? " He bites his bottom lip.

"sh-shit fuck wait-wait- it ah-eung" you squeak feeling his hot warm cum filling inside your hole, dripping to the bed sheet. "Such a good slut hm?" his hand starts to rub your swollen clit. He starts thrusting slow, pushing his cum inside you more, as he pull out and went to your pussy and start sucking your sensitive bud. After that he lay down beside you.

"Can't wait to see you pregnant with my child~" he teases as you playfully hit his shoulder.

Oh yeah did I mention this was your 27th round with him? 😉

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chaptersleftunwritten · 2 months ago

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Bite my lip just for the taste

nonnie request here

Blurb: Eddie isn’t only good with his hands. He worships the ground you gracefully walk on and he is determined to satisfy you in every way that he can. Your pleasure is his pleasure and thanks to your mutual friend Steve, he might just have a chance to give you what you deserve.

Pairing: Older!Mechanic!Eddie x Reader

Warnings: 18+, lust at first sight, rough!dom!Eddie (careful what you wish for, right?), oral (m receiving), p in v sex, sloppy kisses, naked bodies and underwear description, reader referred to as girl, pet names, praise kink, unprotected sex (wrap it before you tap it!), alcohol, characters are of ages 25+ and 30+

divider by @cafekitsune

Not only was Eddie Munson phenomenal with his hands when it came to mending cars and tinkering around with bolts and nuts… but he knew a trick or two with his strong muscular tongue and his long skilled fingers; and they weren’t associated with playing guitar or singing a epic chorus.

Eddie knew how to fuck— and he was fucking great at it.

But he couldn’t just come out straight with it and tell you that— he had to ease into it. It was like a dark lustrous dance of longing and need and he didn’t mind if he were in it for the long run.

Eddie wanted you but he knew that perfection took time.

It all began on a sweltering summers day. The metal head was very well educated on how car batteries and engines reacted to intense heat— but no amount of study could have prepared him for the way your car trundled into his garage.

Wiping the sweat from his thick brow he watched how you swung open the door with a tired groan and a chesty grumble. Full of merciless rage as you rattled your hands against the metal plating of the evidently old vehicle. Swearing like a sailor on a sinking ship, “Piece of shit!! I hope they crush you!”

Eddie couldn’t control the way his jaw nearly hit the dusty courtyard floor as your heeled foot struck against the cars front tire multiple times. Your rage wasn’t what surprised Eddie— he was accustomed to watching customers let out their pent up rage onto their dying automobiles. But what stunned him was you. You presented yourself in a way that made Eddie question why you decided to bring your car all the way down to this side of town when you clearly could afford to go elsewhere.

Not to toot his own horn, but Eddie was one of the best mechanics this town had to offer. However, he did hold a reputation that much of the community did not agree with. He had a look that made people uncomfortable— that made them run away.

But not you.

You charged toward him fiercely and determined. You made Eddie shrink in his boots.

“Hi, I’m looking for Eddie? Eddie Munson? I’m told this is his place.” Your sugar coated tongue had Eddie’s mind reeling. The contrast of your actions and your personality made him want to laugh aloud— but he managed to keep his humour to himself. For now. You hoop your keys around your index finger, swirling the metal so they would clank and chime against one another.

“You’re looking at him, princess,” He wipes his large oil covered hands against the dark denim of his jeans, toying with the chunky silver rings that graced his fingers as he drank you in further— having a better view of you now, “How can I help?” He briefly glances over to your car, his two front teeth puncturing his bottom lip as he recalls the way you were attacking it just moments earlier.

“My friend Steve said if anyone can fix this hunk of shit then it would be you.” You offer Eddie a tight lipped smile, your hands resting comfortably on your hips as you also gaze back over at the rust bucket your father gifted you 4 years prior, “She isn’t much to look at, but she meant a lot to my old man so… I sort of have to keep her around, Y’know?” You roll your eyes comically and Eddie hums in acknowledgment, crossing his heavily tattooed arms over his plump chest that is clad in a tarnish white tank top.

“I get it.” He grins and winks at you, walking over to where you had abandoned your prized possession, “I hope Harrington put a good word in for me, his car would’ve been scrapped last year if it weren’t for my talent.”

“He said you were the best… alongside some other things that I best not mention if you wanna keep your friendship with him on good terms.”

Eddie laughs as he leans against the bonnet of your car, his wandering eyes flickering from your skirt that is stretched across the fullness of your thighs and up to your face and all over again. He couldn’t seem to pull his attention away from you.

“It’s unlocked, if you’d like to have a look inside.” You gesture toward the hood of the car which the metal head is leisurely draped on and Eddie’s cheeks warm at the inkling that he was caught gawking at you.

“Yeah, I’ll pop it open. It might just be the heat…”

It was now your turn to rake your eyes over Eddie’s frame as he peers into the organs of your nearly dead vehicle. He was only older than you by a couple of years and yet he seemed much more experienced in life than you did. The tattoos against his pale skin had you nibbling on the plush flesh of your bottom lip. His jeans hung loosely on his hips, held up by a studded black leather belt and above the hem you could see the waistband of his boxer briefs peering out at you.

One thing Steve had failed to mention to you before your arrival was how smoking hot Eddie ‘the freak’ Munson was. If you had known sooner, you would’ve dressed up a bit more— maybe you would’ve gotten changed out of your PA office attire.

But still, your tight fitted blouse and shiny black heels would just have to suffice.

“What are you doing right now?” Boldly you move around to meet Eddie’s line of vision. His eyebrows knit together in slight confusion and he flicks his fingers toward the open hood of the car, “No, I mean, after this. What are you doing? Do you.. have plans? Maybe going home to a girlfriend, perhaps?” You weren’t very subtle, but screw it! You saw the hunger in his eyes when you first showed up— he wanted you just as badly as you wanted him and you hadn’t been taken care of in a long time.

You were needy. Desperate. And Eddie may as well have been served up to you on a silver platter!

“Plans? Oh uh… no. Not at all. I uh… I was going to go home and have some shitty wine,” His pink lips perk up into a toothy smile, a knowing smile, and you bite the inside of your cheek to suppress your own, “Does that maybe interest you? You don’t seem like a shitty wine girl.”

You shrug your shoulders and a transparent smugness settles deep into the apples of your cheeks, “I like shitty wine.”

“The good thing about being your own boss is that you can finish whenever you want.” He slaps the bonnet of the car shut and dusts his large hands against one another, “How about I look at this tomorrow and we can take my car back to mine? Or would you like to check out my ass for a bit longer?” He slyly winks at you and your face tilts toward the ground as you make a feeble attempt to conceal the blazing fire that was torturing your skin.

“Hmmm that depends— can you guarantee that you’re not some psycho and that I won’t end up on the front page of the paper tomorrow?” For someone whose body may as well be a ferness with how hot it is, you sure are making Eddie work for what you both want. Something about him made you brave, but it also made you… timid. Quiet… obedient.

And boy oh boy, Eddie was enjoying every second of the power he had over you.

“How about I let you drive? You have the keys… you have the control.” His husky voice drops an octave as he takes a few steady strides toward you. His gaze penetrates yours and his dangerous eyes have an addictive allure. Captivating and intimidating. Revealing little but knowing much… it was exciting. He excites you.

“That could work…” your voice betrays your facade of confidence and Eddie grins wider at the soft falter in your tone. He could read you like a book. Your inviting body language, the blown darkness in the centre of your glossy eyes and the way you don’t back away from him as he stalks even closer to you. You were his prey… and he was the hunter set on a target.

One of Eddie’s rough calloused hands gently takes yours. He positions your palm flat out toward the sky so he could drop his keys onto it all while his focus on your face remains unwavering, “The keys to the castle.”

“Fitting, since you called me a princess earlier.”

“Maybe I orchestrated this from the beginning?” An entertained eyebrow perks up behind his stringy damp bangs.

“Is that so?” The sound of your hushed voice echoes back at you and your lips part longingly at Eddie’s close proximity. He is close enough to kiss— tasty enough to devour. A banquet of all of the most desirable and finer things in life.

“I saw you in those heels and with those legs… I couldn’t resist. They don’t call me a Eddie the freak Munson for no reason, princess.” There is a clip to his voice, a new intensity piercing through his words like a pin to a voodoo doll.

“You might just have to show me how freaky you really are then, Mr. freak…”

Eddie was right. The wine did taste like shit.

You were currently draped across Eddie’s large sofa, the soft suede fabric welcomed the mould of your body as you sunk into airy cushions and you sipped hesitantly from your stemmed glass. Smearing your dark lipstick across the pristine rim as you did.

Eddie was perched on a chair across from you which was cut from the same material as the couch. His feet were planted to the floor and his legs were spread wide; like a King on his throne. There was a coffee table separating the two of you and part of you questioned why he was so far away.

You and Eddie locked eyes, a welcoming and long stare. It was comfortable, patient but growing. Neither of you looked away, but none of you made the first move, either.

Eddie was assessing you. He was trying to figure out how this would go. How it would play out. Who was going to be the dominant one and who was going to submit?

You wanted it to be him. You wanted him to know that you needed your decisions made for you tonight.

You bring your glass of wine back to your mouth, taking a small drink and proceeding to lick and bite your lip afterwards. An unspoken invitation that Eddie silently accepts.

The warm light that glows from the table lamp next to you illuminates Eddie in a gorgeous orange hue, darkening his tattoos and brightening the metal around his fingers and his neck. You envision how he would look above you— glistening in sweat with his necklace shimmering as it dangles atop of your face. The image nearly causes you to whine aloud.

Nearly.

You surveyed your surroundings, “This is a nice place you have— very cozy.” You place your wine glass on a coaster, coming back to snuggle into the pillows of the sofa and Eddie hums, pleased.

“It’s no bachelor pad but it’s home.” He tilts his nearly empty glass toward you and a mischievous smile toys with the edges of his lips, “Thank you.”

He finishes his drink with one swift movement before he is leaving his post from across from you. You watch him with blown eyes, eyes that are bright and eager. He settles his lean and sturdy physique against the door frame that leads into his kitchen space.

Your heart rate quickens with anticipation and your hips squirm beneath you as you try and remain confident under his abysmal and sinful demeanour.

You were overly aware of the lewd events hurtling toward you and the excitement of it causes your face to flush with colour.

“I’ve never fucked a girl in heels before… I think you should keep them on.” He prowls toward you, his body language animalistic and focused.

He’s been wanting to pounce on you from the moment you stepped foot through the door— but Eddie is a gentleman and gentlemen take their time.

Eddie was in front of you now. His eyes such a deep shade of chocolate brown that they seemed to swallow the light rather than reflect it. They were adorned by long dark eyelashes that you were envious of and strong clean eyebrows that framed the chiselled structure of his face. He looked like a painting. Like he wasn’t real.

“I… I can keep them on.” Your face tilts toward your feet as you try to remind yourself of the appearance of the shoes that you chose to wear that day however Eddie is quick to tensely grab you by the flesh of your cheeks and snatch your attention back to him.

“Eyes on me.” His voice is a hushed purr as his nose teeters on the edge of brushing yours, “I wanna see your pretty face.”

His grip remains tight and it forces your lips into a cute pout which Eddie coos at, “I wanna kiss you. Is that okay?” You nod your head feverishly. Without wasting a single second your lips finally met, tinged with impatience. His lips were magnificent, full and defined and soft. His tongue tastes of alcohol and mint and you moan at the contact of his wet tongue wrestling against yours. His teeth nip at your bottom lip and your eyes are lidded as your fingers touch the exposed skin of his shoulders with a feathery graze; causing goosebumps to arise on Eddie’s inked skin.

“I need to know that you want this…” He breathes heavy laboured breaths, “That you want me to take control. I like it rough, baby, so we need to have a safe word… okay? Safe word is Cherries. You got that?” His domineering mask slips for a quarter of a moment as his black hues sweeten. You nod again, your mind clouded with lust and desperation.

“Repeat it back to me.”

“Cherries is the safe word.”

“Clever girl.” Without a beat Eddie is dragging you up and onto your feet. You are wobbly on your legs for a moment but you are fast to regain composure. As Eddie goes to lead you through to his bedroom you stop, your body set alight.

“Eddie can I… can I taste you first?” You are a blushing mess as the words drool from your lips. You hadn’t stopped thinking about it since you seen him man spreading in front of you in his armchair earlier. You wanted to dip down between his thighs and make his cock twitch with need, “Please.”

The metal head looked bewildered for a moment however he quickly welcomed the request. How could he possibly deny such a sweet girl when she asked him so politely?

He walks the both of you over to the comfortable chair, sitting himself down and allowing his hands to have free roam of your ass and hips, “Ask me as nicely as that and I’d give you anything you want, princess.” The pet name was now tainted with naughty intention as it rolled off of his slick tongue and your knees weaken at the sight of him gazing up at you.

It was nice to be able to study a man features without any shame or embarrassment. You were so used to stealing glances at attractive men but the visual feast sitting in front of you was enjoyed without any guilt.

You offer Eddie an intoxicated smile as his eyes venture over your face, your neck, your breasts and your exposed legs. You weren’t worried about the way your body looked— there was something so calming about Eddie that struck a match of confidence within you and he seemed to like what he was looking at.

“Such a pretty thing, aren’t you?” He rips down your skirt from around your waist, letting it pool around your ankles and leaving you stood in the pile of bunched fabric. His hands work quickly on your blouse and Eddie growls at the sight of you. Nothing to you but your matching lace underwear set and your heels.

Your nipples peak at the change of temperature in the room and the sly man pinches them with the tips of his slender fingers, rolling the buds mercilessly and smirking devilishly as he does. The action causes a soft whine to emit from your throat and Eddie’s lips perk into a grin at the sound. He was obsessed with you.

“Kneel.”

And you do. The bones of your knees meet the floor with a pathetic thud and Eddie smooths the palm of his hand across the softness of your hair; enticing you that he will be gentle at first but he yanks the strands seconds later, causing you to yelp.

“Open up. I wanna see if I’ll fit.”

Bracing yourself with your hands on his jean clad knees you unhinge your jaw, opening wide as Eddie slots two of his fingers onto your tongue and they slide deep in the crevasse of your mouth. They tickle the back of your throat and your thighs clench together at the thought of him fucking of your face.

“It’ll be a tight squeeze, but I’m sure you can handle it. Right, hon?”

“Yes. I can take it. Please…” You babble around his digits.

There you are again with your manners and your begging bambi eyes. It awakens something within Eddie— something that had been sitting dormant but has now stirred from its slumber. A darkness. A line he had never crossed but he was so close to it now. He wanted to own you. He wanted you to belong to him… to be his and only his.

“Go on then, baby. He’s waiting.” He winks at you and your adrenaline shaken hands find the zipper of his jeans. Eddie’s thick bulge strains against the stiff denim and you chew on your bottom lip furiously as his long and full shaft springs from his boxer briefs.

Your mouth salivates at the sight and you look to him for permission, which Eddie gives, before you are popping his throbbing tip into the hot cave of your mouth. A vibration travels down Eddie’s cock and reaches his balls as you moan around him. He felt so good— so natural to have him in your mouth. Like sucking on your favourite treat.

“Fuck— that feels so good.” Dark curls spill onto the back cushion of the chair and Eddie’s hands fist your hair into a ponytail, guiding your slobbering mouth up and down the length of his aching cock.

Your mind was blank of anything except for Eddie’s body and the way he felt inside of you. He hadn’t even penetrated you yet and your panties were dampening with slick more and more with every passing bob of your head.

“Shit—“ Eddie seethes through clenched teeth, his hips rocking up to meet your sloppy movements and he punctuates each thrust with a rewarding moan. “I need to feel you.” It was abrupt, the way he ripped your mouth away from him— but you understood. You needed to feel him too. You hadn’t felt this desperate for anyone before; this sultry and seductive. This needy and submissive. You didn’t want this night to end.

You cant contain the soft pants that leave your throat, a mixture of excitement and arousal as you climbed onto straddle Eddie’s thighs. His body felt hard and masculine beneath your touch and you shivered at the way he laid a harsh spank to the meaty flesh of your ass.

“As innocent as you look, you really are just a dirty little slut, huh?” He slaps you again, this time harder than the last and you nearly collapse against his chest. Eddie laughs mockingly, forcing you to sit upright as his fingers plunge down into the soaking fabric of your panties.

You gasp, your already primed body becoming slippier as his fingers thrust softly into you— testing the waters.

“Such a wet pussy, all for me…” His fingers twitch inside of you and you release a sound which can only be described as a moan combined with a helpless whine. With his free hand Eddie rips your breasts from the confines of your bra, allowing the skin to spill free.

His tongue bathed your breast while he used his teeth, giving you peppered bites that shot pleasure through your body like a lightning bolt. He drew your coiled nipple into his mouth and he let his teeth roughly drag over the tip. You moaned loudly. He leaves your breast and looks up into your face.

“Tell me how badly you want my cock.” His voice is a clipped and cool demand.

“I want you to fill me up so bad. I need it, Eddie. Please… fuck, I want it more than anything.” Your hips grind against his fingers and your words must’ve struck Eddie in a pleasant way because before your brain has any time to catch up to his ever changing movements, his fingers are pulling your panties off to one side and his cock is teasing and toying with your dripping hole.

The eye contact between the pair of you was intense as Eddie’s entire length slowly slid inside of you. Your breathing catches in your throat at the stretch of him. Before long, Eddie settles inside of you and your eyes remain shackled to one another. Sex with a stranger shouldn’t be this intimate— so you screw your eyes shut.

Big mistake.

“Open your fucking eyes,” He snarls, his hand grabbing your throat harshly as he pulls your body down toward his, “I want you to watch me as I fuck you.” Your eyelids snap open and Eddie’s features are slack but intimidating as he looks at you. The feeling of being brutally and totally full was almost too much for you to stand. Too much for you to handle. He pulls back from you and begins to thrust.

“Wait—“ You plead and your hands find Eddie’s chest as you support yourself on top of him, “I just need a moment to adjust… you’re so big.” You squirm at the pulsing of your walls around Eddie’s shaft and he grins egotistically up at you.

“Perfect thing to say.”

He repositions his grip onto the back of your thighs, slowly readjusting himself beneath you and easing himself in and out.

“Okay,” you breathe with a soft nod, “You can fuck me now.”

Eddie sensed that your body was ready for his size and he then started to brutishly slam his body into yours. Unbelievably erotic sounds hit your ears as you feel and hear his hips slapping against yours. Sticky skin meeting sticky skin.

“Feels like someone is fisting my dick.”

“Wettest little pussy I’ve ever fucked, yknow that?”

“Shit, I could cum from just the sight of you.”

“Listen to that, baby. You hear how much your pussy is loving my cock?”

“Keep those stunning fucking eyes on me.”

Eddie’s deep grunts and moans mixed with his dirty commentary only heightened the erotica. You’re gentle to take his hand into yours, timidly welcoming two of his fingers back into your mouth as you bound up and down to meet the crack of his hips against yours. Eddie’s eyes gloss over from the view of you above him and his thrusts get snappier and more intentional. Harsher. Quicker. Deeper.

As his cock fucks your sweet hole, his fingers are busy fucking your mouth as well. He took note of how much you liked to have him in your mouth— no matter what part of his body that may be. Eddie got an inkling that this would be the first of many nights together. And he wasn’t mad at the idea— he was actually thrilled by it. It spurred him on.

“Rub your clit for me, sweet girl.” It was as if you were in a trance and the only thing you were able to do was obey Eddie’s every beckon and call. Your finger tips find your sensitive bundle of nerves and you sigh out in complete bliss at the euphoria that shocks up every vertebrae of your spine.

“That’s it, baby. I want you to cum so fucking hard. I’m getting so close— want you to cream all over my cock.”

The speed in which your fingers circled your clit increases and your eyes fight to stay open. You could feel the desperation punctuated in every one of Eddie’s quickened thrusts and you feel that familiar build coming to build in your tummy.

“Fuck— I’m gonna cum. Keep rubbing that clit, baby. You’re being such a good girl for me.” His tired pants fill the air and your mind whizzes and bubbles as you whine out loudly.

“Oh fuck, oh fuck, of fuck!” Your mouth gapes open wide, mirroring the sweaty sex symbol below you and your eyes widen as your orgasm floods your every cell. Shaking your body from head to toe. You feel Eddie’s cock swell inside of you— causing your high to continue

“Shit!!” A yell breaks past Eddie’s swollen lips as his orgasm hits. You watch as his face contours as he cums inside of you. His eyes squint shut and his mouth is pulled into a grimace. The veins on his forearms bulk and tense. It was the sexiest thing you had ever fucking seen.

Your heart paced rabidly in your chest as you both breathed heavily, trying to control the heaving of your chests as you both came down. You’re relying on Eddie’s body to keep you from collapsing and Eddie is wise to this. His strong arms wrap around your body as he pulls himself out of you, bringing you to rest on his chest.

Too tired and sated to do anything else, you press yourself against Eddie’s bare and empty sack, grinding lightly down onto the tender flesh of his balls and the noise that leaves Eddie’s throat is indescribable.

You shoot up to look at him and it’s now your turn to smirk and it’s Eddie’s turn to flush a shade of bright red.

“Ignore that.” He coughs to clear his oesophagus, followed by a light hearted chuckle as you come to lay back against his limp body and a knowingness fills your mind.

This wasn’t just going to be a one night stand… and this wasn’t the last time you were going to be laying on top of Eddie ‘the freak’ Munson.

This was just the sweaty, sexy beginning.

taglist: @colorful-white-ideas @littlered0000 @ali-r3n @daisy-munson @serenadingtigers @rainybloo28 @munson-enthusiast @godcreatoreli @littlefreckles4 @what-the-jams @tlclick73 @ameliapond1995 @thepurplelovewitch @somethingvicked @costellation-hunter @munsonzgf @emxxblog @ingridvasquez @sadbitchfangirl @im-julessssss @munsonburn3r @unclecrunkle @cierra222 @ziggeddie @yarafae @sidthedollface2 @kellsck @your-nightmaredoll @purplewitchcauldron @jasminelafleur

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sugurusyndrome · 3 months ago

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cw/tags: househusband!nanami, fluff, smut, fem!reader

— oh househusband!nanami my love…

househusband!nanami initially resisted the idea of being a stay at home husband when you first proposed it. aghast, he might even say. he couldn’t fathom the possibility of being dependent upon your income. not that his masculinity was threatened or anything of the sort. you were the one supposed to be spoiled while he does the hard work.

your husband was traditional in a quite endearing sense. bless his giant heart and his even bigger cock.

“darling, i want to do this. for us,” you had gently insisted. reaching forward, you took off his spectacles and brushed a hand around his cheek. “you deserve to be pampered, too.”

househusband!nanami was exhausted from the long hours over many years and he knew his wife was sorely aware of that fact. he leaned into your touch, hazel eyes slipping shut.

“alright, my love.”

it took some adjusting to his new role during the first few days. when your alarm rang, you swiftly silenced it so he wouldn’t wake up. looking over your shoulder, you find his side of the bed empty.

househusband!nanami had gotten dressed as usual before remembering he didn’t need to work anymore. instead of going back to bed, he whipped up a breakfast feast fit for a queen. he also sent you off to your big-shot job with a kiss and your lunch.

soon enough, this became a routine. a hearty breakfast followed by a “see you later” kiss—kento didn’t like saying goodbye, it’s always “see you later.” househusband!nanami wanted to bring a smile to your hectic days so he stuck an adorable note in his neat handwriting squarely on your lunchbox. he never ran out of words to express his love for you.

househusband!nanami was finally able to tackle the books that had accumulated on his side of the bedroom but never had the chance to read. you could only imagine how he looked like, all cozy. in the nook of the living room where the sun shone best, he had one leg tucked under his body with his glasses perched on his sharp nose.

when he was not devouring words, househusband!nanami was taking himself on a stroll in the neighbourhood with a cup of a pick-me-up coffee. once, he passed a park and sat at a bench watching the mothers playing with their children with a soft smile. however, he quickly walked away because he realized his presence as a sole man just lingering at the edge of the park might be a cause of concern for the mothers. you giggled later over dinner when he recounted his thoughts to you. what a thoughtful man you married.

you wanted to give him 10 children.

if not books or a stroll in the neighbourhood, househusband!nanami was doing his duty ever so happily between your legs.

"k-ken..." you whimpered, back arching gracefully while your nails scraped his undercut in a way that made him growl into your pussy. he knew how much you loved the vibrations as much as he went crazy for your nails on his scalp. "missed this pussy today....mmm...” he captured your clit in a wet, hungry kiss. “take tomorrow off for me, sweetheart.”

this part of the night quickly cemented its spot as his favourite. to absolutely neither of your surprises.

househusband!nanami became fast friends with the owners of your favourite bakery. they already knew him from his frequent visits after his long shifts to pick up something sweet for his wife but the more he hung out there, the closer he got with the bakers. you were particularly fond of the strawberry shortcake from there and what did he do? oh yes, he learned how to make it. everything was from scratch down to the syrup. by the end of it he was sticky but super excited to surprise you with it for your birthday.

"honey, those better be happy tears," he chuckled, drawing you into a tender hug. either that, or the cake turned out to be a disaster.

"of course they are, kento!" you blubbered in his chest. strawberry syrup and whipped cream was smeared around your mouth, mixing with your tears.

oh, how you adored this man to his bare bones. and he devotedly breathed in the very air you exhaled.

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thesongoficeandfir3 · 4 months ago

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The coronation

Jacaerys Velaryon x Fem!Wife!reader

AU where the blacks won

Warnings: none, just Jace and his wife reader being cute before his coronation

You make your way down the long corridor of the Red Keep’s ancient castle halls, your steps echoes loudly off the stone walls and floor. You soon approach heavy oak door where two knights stand and upon seeing you they immediately pull the large doors open. When you walk in you are met with a scene that takes your breath away. There in the center of the room your husband Jacaerys stands, dressed in a long, heavy, and expensive red and black regalia, fit for a king.

When you entered the room you were met with the back of him standing still. He was surrounded by several maidservants who are busy adjusting and fastening every piece of his attire, ensuring they fit perfectly for this very crucial day. There are large glass windows in the room and the bright morning light cast a glow on Jacaerys who stands in the center as if the gods themselves are casting their blessings on him for this important day.

His red and black robes are a vision of opulence and power. The material is thick and heavy, a velvety red silk that drapes him gracefully. Sewn into the sleeves, are subtle but intricate designs of sea horses and dragons, to represent both of his houses, each carefully crafted out of shimmering black thread. The back of the robe is longer than the front, pooling on the ground behind him in a dramatic train.

Your own gown had matched Jace’s, something Jace was very insistent on when it came to the designs of them. You are not sure when it started, but sometime during the first year of your marriage you found a lot of your and Jace’s outfits subtly match whether it was a big occasion or not. Your gown though less elaborate than your husband's, it still a vision of beauty fitted perfectly for a queen.

As you silently stand behind him, he meets your eyes in the reflection of the mirror he’s standing in front. A small smile dances across his lips and his dark eyes glitter with affection. It's the same look he gives you every morning when he kisses you awake.

Jacaerys holds up a hand, the gesture causing the maidservants to stop their movements in an instant. "That's enough," he says, his deep voice firm and commanding. "You may leave us."

They curtsey quickly and walk away, shutting the door behind them. Once they are gone, keeping your back straight as much as you could and your head bowing low you curtsey.

“My king.” you say with a teasing grin.

“Stop that.” he playfully rolls his eyes walking over to you. He places a hand on your chin with a tender touch, lifting your head and gesturing for you to stand.

“You look ethereal.” you whisper out, looking into his dark brown eyes with nothing but love and admiration.

“As do you my issa prūmia.” he leans down to press a kiss to your forehead.

“Are you nervous?” you ask.

He moves his hands down from your face to holding your hands squeezing them slightly.

“Just a little.” he answers, his shoulder dropping not realizing he was tense the entire time.

You notice this and move one of your hands to caress his cheek to help calm him.

“You should not be, your grandsire and mother were wonderful rulers and they passed everything they know on to you, so I have no doubt you will be just as good.”

He nods leaning into your touch, the warmth of your words and touch calming him a little, but still a small part of him is nervous.

“So does this mean from now on I have to bow when I enter every room you are in.” you tease hoping to lighten the mood.

“Hmm,” he pauses for a moment pretending to think. He then leans in slightly. “Yes, I think you will have to bow before me….Every…..Single……..Time. He says each word deliberately slow meeting your teasing banter

“Oh?“ you quirk and eyebrow feigning surprise. “Does that mean I must always call you my king as well?” you lean in closer causing your lips to be mere inches apart.

“Of course my darling,” he says reaching out to tuck a stray lock of hair behind your ear being very careful not to mess with the elaborate hair do, his fingers then trail along your jawline “I am your king, after all.” He smirks down at you.

“And I am your queen” your eyes had yet to leave his during your entire conversation.

“And a beautiful queen you are.” he presses his lips to yours lingering for a few moments before pulling away.

“And your child and rightful heir.“ you take his hand pressing it to your growing pregnant belly.

Jaceaeyrs feels a rush of emotion at the feeling of your belly under his palm, his eyes drifting down to where your hands meet before looking back up at you, His expression softens further. “Our child” he corrects a protective hand still resting on your stomach.

Your heart swells, though such a small gesture you can’t help but feel emotional that he said ‘our’ instead of his.

He suddenly kneels before you his fingers splaying on the swell of your stomach gently kissing it before resting his forehead on it.

“Our future king or queen.” He whispers out.

Your breath hitches at his unexpected action.

“J-Jace,” you stutter out. “This is unbecoming you are to be king” you say feeling extremely flustered.

He chuckles the sound deep and rich.

“Out there I am, but in here with you I am just a man who loves his wife and unborn child dearly” he plants one more kiss on your bump before standing. He places his hands on your hips bringing you close once more.

You reach out and grab the livery collar, each piece being one of the kingdom’s house sigil. You carefully place it over his shoulder before fastening the last button of the robe and smoothing a hand over his chest.

“Now then, let us get you to your coronation.” You smile

“As you command my queen.”

#hotd fanfic #hotd season 2 #hotd x reader #hotd x y/n #hotd x you #jacaerys velaryon #jacaerys targaryen #hotd jacaerys #prince jacaerys #jacaerys x you #jacaerys x reader #jacaerys fluff #jacaerys valaryon x reader #jace velaryon #hotd fluff #house of the dragon fanfic #house of the dragon #house of the dragon x reader

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sonolynn · 5 months ago

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The Aftermath-Blood and Cheese part two

summary | The after math of blood and cheese.

pairing | Aemond x Wife!Fem!Reader

tags | mentions of death, grief, swearing, infanticide, murder, talks of pregnancy and birth. Not proof read.

w.c | 2.0 k

note(s) | please ignore my lack of political or architecture knowledge in regards tp the rooms in Kings Landing or Driftmark. also! Fuck you Criston Cole.

____________________________________________

“Have any of my letters to my daughter been answered?” Rhaenyra asked calmly. The messenger anxiously shifted from his heels. “No, your grace.” Rhaenyra nodded solemnly. Within the past couple weeks, her daughter had not responded to any letters that she’d had sent. Of course, Rhaenyra felt that something was wrong, “motherly instinct” Daemon had so gracefully commented when she had confided in him one night about her fears.

“Do tell me if anything comes?”

“Of course your grace.” With a bow, the servant moved out of the way so that Rhaenyra could make her way downstairs.

____________________________________________

The looks Rhaenyra got when she entered the meeting room were nothing short of sympathetic. Daemon sat in his chair, his legs crossed and a look of boredom on his face. Jace stared at his mother as she walked, as if words had been stuck on his tongue. Rhaenyra looked between everyone until she couldn’t handle the prolonged stares and discomforting silence for much longer.

“What is this…silence? Has Aegon struck?” Rhaenyra asked, slowly making her way to her seat. When no one answered, she turned and looked towards Rhaenys, who, at eye contact, quickly looked towards Daemon. “Well?”

“It’s troubling news, your grace. The princess’ son, Baelon, was murdered in her arms not but a few weeks ago.” Rhaenyra smiled slightly, disbelief coursing through her mind as she laughed.

“Murdered? He was only six months old! He had no enemies-” Rhaenyra stopped, seeing the solemn looks everyone held. Her face dropped, and she breathed out slowly as the smile faded from her face. “My…grandson is..dead?” Rhaenyra asked, her voice slightly shaky.

“Yes. Murdered, your grace,” Rhaenys stopped, looking up towards her queen. “The greens think that you were behind this heinous crime.”

Rhaenyra paused and a disbelieving glare settled on her face. Her? Her?!

“Me? They think me responsible? I have not but lost my own son! And to think I would inflict such a grievous pain on my daughter-” Her voice cracked, and suddenly she found herself too weak to stand. She slowly sat down, holding a hand over her stomach as the realization set in.

Daemon looked down, his jaw clenched, his own gaze set away from Rhaenyra. He had not meant for this.

____________________________________________

“You did this?!” Rhaenyra yelled, slamming her hands on the table where Daemon sat. The room had cleared, and now, Rhaenyra stood, barding her husband as she held back tears.

“As I have said-”

“I said I wanted Aemond! Not my grand-” She stopped, her voice breaking as she turned away from Daemon. Daemon rolled his head to the side before he spoke, too calmly for Rhaenyra’s liking.

“It was an accident.”

“An accident that cost me yet another loss!” Rhaenyra yelled, her glared piercing into Daemon. Once her eyes locked with Daemon's, a deep seated feeling of dread and anxiety fill her. How could he be so careless, so calm about the matter of her grandson’s death?

“You barely know the child!” Daemon refuted. Rhaenyra stopped, and she breathed slowly to ground herself before she spoke. Though it did not help. Daemon spoke softer, and he looked at her with a hard gaze. “It was an accident.”

“Accident or not you killed an innocent child, Daemon! My sweet girl-” Rhaenyra stopped, placing a hand on her mouth as she felt the tears start to bubble up in her eyes. She turned, holding back a sob as she tried to imagine how her innocent, sweet daughter could have possibly felt and reconciled with the death of the babe she worked so hard to conceive.

“I may not have known the babe personally. I may have only held him perhaps once but it is not the boy that I am sad for! This-This mistake that you made has not only cost me lost support from the great houses, utter humiliation, and grief…but you have cost me my first born daughter!” Rhaenyra took a breath, and when Daemon said nothing she wiped the tears from her eyes and spoke slowly, turning back to face him. “My daughter thinks that I have done this. That I ordered the murder of an infant boy, Daemon!”

“Your daughter knows you better then-”

“My daughter may know me better than the ground that I walk on, Daemon but you underestimate a mother and her grief. You cannot possibly understand the conclusions that will be drawn from her mind when she hears that this happened in my name.” At this Daemon goes quiet. He looked away from Rhaenyra as she continued.

“My daughter is grieving. And in her grief she will blame no one but herself. But the moment that she hears of the hideous rumor that I did this? Her grief will be overcome with anger and she will resent me!” With no more words left to say, Rhaenyra quickly turned and walked away.

In the solace of the castle halls she broke down, sobbing heavily. She leaned against the nearest wall for support as she shook her head. Rhaenyra was unable to wrap her mind around how her precious little girl could be grappling with this grief. ____________________________________________

You were in the nursery, as you always were these days, when Crison Cole passed by. When Rhaenyra had given birth to you all those years ago, he felt a mix of emotions, but the top one was anger. He had let himself go, a moment of weakness in his own words. When Rhaenyra spoke your name, the anger grew even more.

As you grew the relationship between you and Ser Criston grew apart. You held no resentment towards him for a while, trying to be an understanding “daughter”.

Criston stopped, seeing you on the floor next to the crib. He felt sadness, of course he did. But more than that he felt guilt. Perhaps if he had been there, perhaps if he wasn’t occupied he could have saved your innocent son.

And in truth you blamed Criston more than anyone. He was the head of the Kingsguard, but more than that he was your father. Even though he stayed up at night trying to deny you as his own, biologically you were his and no amount of self inflicted drunkenness or denial could change that.

Criston stood at the door, opening his mouth to speak, before you interrupted him.

“Where were you, Ser Criston?” At the sound of your harsh, irritable voice, he stopped. The words he meant to speak suddenly lost in his throat as he cleared throat with a cough. He spoke your name softly, taking a step forward but you picked up a nearby book and threw it at him. “My son would not be dead if you had not been fucking my mother-in-law!”

“Princess-”

“No!” You stood, walking towards him fast as you glared at him. He had never seen you so angry, with such a look of pure hatred in your eyes. “If you had done your fucking job I would not have lost my son!” You went to hit Criston’s chest, but Aemond came quickly, holding his arms around you tightly as he pressed a soft kiss to your head, as if the anger you felt in your chest could be resolved with the feather light weight of a kiss.

“Take your leave Ser Criston.” Aemond spoke harshly, and Criston went to speak, but Aemond looked up at him, glaring with his one good, tear filled and red eye. “I said leave, Ser Criston.”

Criston Cole bowed, and he left quickly. He was willing to blame anyone but himself for his grandson’s death. Anyone but himself.

____________________________________________

Two years. It took you two years to fully grasp your mind around the fact that your baby was truly gone. It took Aemond a matter of months, but he still felt the loss, deep within his heart. He would stand outside of the nursery as you laid by the crib and sobbed. He would stand outside of your chambers and listen as you screamed and cursed your mother, Criston, anyone you could verbally blame.

You couldn’t even be intimate with him without breaking down into sobs. And truly, Aemond did not wish to be intimate. He wished to be there for you, a supporter that you needed and not just some mindless lustful husband. So he waited, and he waited patiently. Holding you while you cried, escorting you out of the Red Keep when the court’s children would run about.

By the third year, long after you had let your husband back into bed, you became pregnant. A gift from the gods, you were sure. And when you finally gave birth to twins, a boy and a girl whom you named Viserys and Visenya.

Aemond loved the twins, with his every breath he loved them. But, he felt some disconnect from you. You seemed more connected to your daughter than your son. When Visneya would cry you would go running, but if Viserys cried, you would hesitate, before ultimately having Aemond go to the boy.

____________________________________________

You were in the nursery, staring down at Viserys as the babe slept. He had such an uncanny resemblance to Baelon that it made you physically sick. You could not hold the babe, much rather opting to hold his sister than him. Holding Viserys felt like holding Baelon, and when you thought of holding Baelon, all you thought about was the night that he was taken from you.

Aemond knew this. How could he not. He himself had a hard time with Viserys. Viserys reminded him of his failure to protect his first son. At first that is. Sooner than later Aemond would grow fond of the babe, promising himself, and both of his children, that he would never fail them. That he would come to them every night and bid them a goodnight.

On the night that you stood in the nursery, staring at your son, Aemond came. He leaned against the frame for a while until he heard the boy start to whimper. He came closer to the crib, and he saw the baby boy reaching out towards you, seeking the neglected embrace of his mother.

“He wants you, my love.” Aemond spoke gently, knowing that if he raised his voice too much, he’d accidentally frighten you. He watched you closely, watching your conflicted face as you shook your head.

“Perhaps you could-”

“My love, please. I cannot take him forever.” You nodded at his words, knowing that it was true. You took in an uncertain breath before you shakily reached down into Viserys crib and picked him up.

You felt like a new mother, holding a babe you barely even knew even though you carried him for eight months. You stared down at the squirming babe, and all you saw was Baelon. Baelon, Baelon, Baelon-

Aemond came behind you, wrapping his arms around you and supporting Viserys under your own arms. Your breath stopped, tears filling your eyes as you felt the embrace.

“You’re okay, my love. I’m here.” Gods you relished in those words. For the past three years Aemond had been your rock, your anchor, taking you back down from your swirling thoughts and telling you that you were okay.

Taking a deep breath, you looked down at your baby boy, and for the first time in three months you saw Viserys. You saw Viserys. The thought almost made you sob; All these months, being detached from the very human you created made you feel like the worst mother in the world. But then, he smiled at you. You felt your whole resolve weaken at the sight of your son’s smile.

You resented Criston Cole, for not being there as a father, for not being there the night Baelon was murdered. However, this innocent little creature didn’t resent you, he simply missed you. He could feel no hate, no resentment for your own trauma. The thought of being so easily forgiven by this little innocent life made your heart swell and your eyes tear up.

Instinctively, you pulled away from Aemond and you started to rock the boy. Viserys smiled, the same, lopsided smile Aemond had. Your heart swelled and you smiled down at the boy as tears filled your gaze. Viserys reached up, holding his tiny hand to your nose as he giggled. You looked at this boy, no longer thinking of the life you had lost, but the ones that you had gained.

____________________________________________

TAGLIST @aleemendoza2425-blog @fallout-girl219 @spacexdrago @callsignwidow @lizziela @roseidol @esposadomd @luvaerina @bigback112 @rinirinse @ananas26t @marihoneywk @4everwoke

Hope it was up to everyone's standards!!

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ybklix · 1 month ago

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INTERVIEW WITH THE VAMPIRE

๋࣭ ⭑🕸 pairing: vampire!chrisbahng x inexperiencedfem!reader ˚˖𓍢ִ໋ 🦇˚⋆ 𝒔𝒚𝒏𝒐𝒑𝒔𝒊𝒔: As part of a college assignment, you interview a peculiar doctor about his success and long career, but then he starts telling you about the odd and unbelievable lifestyle he used to lead that got him there, claiming to be something you find funny at first, but then you get caught up in the details, causing tension and questioning reality.

˖⋆࿐໋ 𝒈𝒆𝒏𝒓𝒆 — 𝒘𝒂𝒓𝒏𝒊𝒏𝒈𝒔: MDNI 18+, smut, corruption kink, breeding, choking, biting/marking, slight dubcon and sadism, pet names, blood play, fingering, cunnilingus, multiple orgasms, unprotected sex, creampie. ✩₊˚.⋆🕸️⋆⁺₊✧ word count: 10.2k

𝔴𝔢𝔫𝔱𝔬𝔟𝔢𝔯 (𝗸𝗶𝗻𝗸𝘁𝗼𝗯𝗲𝗿 '𝟮𝟰) ₊˚🕯️♱‧₊˚. 01: vampire

notes: inspired by the 1994 movie of the same name! ✩ it's implied to be set in aus but ik the fall there it's different, but anyway, it's just to fit the theme

It was a cold night, the cool wind blew your hair gracefully and you enjoyed the exquisite scent of the autumn leaves that reached your senses and rustled with every step you took. It was the weekend before Halloween and the whole campus was full of young people walking around in their costumes, you felt a little out of place, as they all smiled and walked shamelessly in their most extravagant clothes, hairstyles and make-up to some party, unlike them, you were wearing your very nice autumn outfit, dark red sweater with V cleavage and a black scarf, mesh tights, brown plaid skirt and knee high dark brown heeled boots and a coat, and you were not going to a party, but to an interview with the handsome and well respected Dr. Christopher Bahng.

Bahng was about to be praised for his long career at the university hospital, for his contribution to society with his own clinic and helping students, mostly medical students, who were fascinated by Bahng’s merits and blinded by their fanaticism and admiration, being carried away by rumors that the guy himself was a medical legend, they suddenly became curious about his life and career, to which they suggested an interview about his professional life as a doctor and specialist. And, mysteriously among the uncertainty there you came in, you were not a medical student, you were in your third year of your nursing degree and saw Dr. Bahng on very few occasions while rotating through your shifts at the hospital, so the offer still remains a mystery to you, why you?

You had absolutely no idea what your colleagues at your faculty newspaper were talking about one afternoon when you walked into the room and there was a loud commotion and uproar, that Bahng had agreed to an interview, but asked that it be specifically done by you. It was an afternoon, when you were about to write and share information obtained from a small unimportant paper you would do, but one of your friends, Yang Jeongin took the courage to approach you and be the first to give you the news.

“Dr. Bahng chose you to do an interview with him for the commemoration of his long professional career at the hospital. You have to be the best, you practically have half the medical school all over you, well at least the annoying students working on his paper who came confused to break the news.”

Bahng was a legend and a mystery. He was handsome and charismatic but you couldn’t find a single social media or photo of him on the internet beyond his LinkedIn. There were pictures of him hanging out with more doctors posted by the faculty, pictures of him looking uncomfortable and always all the way in the background or on the sidelines as if he was out of commitment, pictures of him receiving accolades with a fake smile and medical school articles mentioning him, but nothing else about him. You knew that because you researched him a bit before talking to him as you were terrified to go with a blank mind, from just knowing he was an obstetrics doctor, at first you dug into his professional life which you could find information about, but curiosity got the better of you a bit and you wanted to dig into a more human side of him, wanting to see a picture of him with a friend on the beach, or posting something a thirty-something man would do, a social media or something, but there seemed to be no sign of him.

You rang the doorbell, swaying in place slightly nervously and waiting to be answered, the house was impressive and in a quiet neighborhood away from the busy city center, away from your university and the hospital, Dr. Bahng’s house. Although you had to admit, something about it gave you the creeps, large and well maintained houses that seemed to be inhabited by ghosts, long trees and the blowing of the wind gave you strange sensations.

Dr. Christopher Bahng greeted you with a smile, dressed in casual black clothes, black t-shirt, black jeans, a long chain with a cross and silver bracelets on his wrists.

“Y/n” he said to you, stepping aside to make way for you, “You’re a little early. Come in, please.”

You blushed as you hoped the time wouldn’t be an inconvenience but honestly, it was for you, he was only willing to give the interview at 8pm and although you planned the series of questions and estimated time, it was uncertain exactly what time it might be concluded.

The date and time were problems for you; your friends were upset you missed countless costume parties just to be there. But there you were, the restlessness and curiosity about why he chose you was greater than a lousy college party. You were about to turn down the offer since it meant that you would have to walk back to the university alone and a little late at night, but the medical students begged you to accept it and Jeongin offered to pick you up at night if it was getting late and you felt unsafe to walk back home alone and ask for a ride from an app. You wanted to think that the reason for your appointment time was because he was off work, but that would be a lie, as everyone knew that Christopher Bahng always worked at night.

You walked by his house somewhat blushing, you were there because of something from the university, but it was inevitable not to think about how handsome the mature doctor was.

“Welcome” he spoke again.

“Thank you, nice to meet you, Dr. Bahng.”

“Nice to meet you too” he stared intensely at you, “You can leave your coat here at the entrance if you like. And take off your shoes, sweetheart, nice boots by the way.”

So he knew your name and face. You took off your coat apologetically and hung it on the coat rack but as soon as you did, you felt a chill in the air hitting your body, making you shiver. His house was cold and poorly lit, the lights were warm and dim. To your left were wide stairs and in front of you a wide hallway that led to more rooms. In the distance, you could hear a classical music melody softly.

“Sorry if it’s a little cold” he said, pulling you out of your thoughts, you settled your bag on your shoulder and smiled at him while gesturing with your hands that there was nothing to worry about, “I’ll show you around” he added encouragingly, almost as if he had read your mind that you were thinking about the decoration of his home, “This is the entrance” Chris walked and you followed in step behind him, “Here is a bathroom, feel free to use it whenever you want. Over there is the kitchen, the main dining room and... the main living room where we’ll do the interview so we can be more comfortable.”

You listened to him carefully as he pointed out. His house was huge but it felt lonely and like it lacked some... life. The decor was exquisitely tasteful, modern but without leaving small classic details and made the illusion of antique elements.

He was a sweet and kind man, you were ready to pay attention to any detail for the writing of the article, at the same time you let yourself be distracted by the attractiveness of his countenance and presence, even so there was something in the atmosphere that made you a little uneasy, you could not calm down at all and you were not nervous, it was a strange feeling that you did not know the reason. Or something strange about it that did not convince you.

Chris took you to his spacious living room, colored in a dark red and the soft melody of classical music came from a record player in the room.

“It’s late. Have you had dinner or would you like something, or something to drink?” he suggested politely.

You looked into his eyes, they were absolutely dark, he was so mesmerizing that you lost yourself for small moments.

“I’m fine, thank you Dr. Bahng.”

“Please call me Chris. I seriously love what I do” he brought a hand to his chest, “But people calling me Dr. all the time is exhausting.”

“I thought that’s what they liked to hear, after all they studied and went a long way to be able to call themselves that” you commented, more confidently, wanting to let go of the shyness in your body, seeing his effort to keep the atmosphere from becoming awkward.

He smiled and stared at you. Wow it had been a very very long road for Chris and you had no idea.

“To me it feels like people have been calling me that for over two hundred years. You seriously don’t want anything? I have fresh pomegranate juice.”

His comment confused you a bit and you caught his subtle change of subject.

“Juice is fine.”

He smiled narrowing his slitted, pretty eyes.

“Okay, make yourself comfortable, I’ll be right back. Do you want to do it at the table or on the couch?”

He was asking too many questions, you thought. You looked around the room, the ideal and professional would be the table, but the option of the couch and being able to more thoroughly capture everything about him seemed like a better idea.

“I’ll be on the couch, thank you.”

You couldn’t help but feel curious and probe with your eyes every tiny detail of the room, yes it was cold, you were so curious about Chris, but you had to keep a professional barrier, plus he was older and a superior to you. You couldn’t believe that a man like him was alone, he should have some partner out there.

You sat on the couch as you began to set up your stuff and audio and recording equipment, your notebook and pen to take notes, your cell phone in Do Not Disturb mode with the series of questions and before long Chris came over to you, with two glasses of a bright dark red juice, he set them down on the little table in front of you and turned off the record player.

“Thank you” you whispered to him, taking the glass shyly as you took a sip.

Chris smiled and sat down, approaching you and intimidating you with his gaze for the first time that night.

“Are you okay in there? Can you write well?” he asked without taking his eyes off you, raising his straight eyebrows as he stretched out his arm to take the glass and drink.

“Yes, thank you, Chris.”

He smiled again letting out a breath.

“Well” you said again, “Once the interview starts I have to refer to you all the time as Dr, is that okay”

“I understand, absolutely” he crooned softly and attractively, finding you tender when you spoke to him formally.

You admired his manly features and pale face for a second, letting your instincts take over, thinking that having him must be a dream. Chris widened his smile, almost blushing as if he had heard something funny.

“Ready?” you asked, awkwardly breaking the silence, his gaze on you felt heavy.

Your finger was already on the button of your recorder, positioned in the middle of you, when Chris said:

“Can I see your questions?”

“Oh, you didn’t get them?” you replied somewhat worried.

“Maybe I forgot to check the e-mail” he replied calmly.

You sketched a smile as you nodded softly and handed him your phone, he held it between his large hand and read the questions and handed it back to you with a disapproving grimace, worrying you a little more.

“Mmm... I can modify them, we can make this interview better.”

Your body heated up in embarrassment as you couldn’t believe he was doing that to you at the last minute. Those medicine fuckers, you thought, as you didn’t participate in the making of the questions.

“I mean I’ll give you something much better” he added.

You didn’t answer him for a moment but thought that you would see what to do later for it, that at the end of the day, it was you doing a favor by being there next to him at night.

“I want to answer to you, not the snooty med guys. Maybe we can do that later but… what are you thinking” he watched you closely.

Chris leaned his arm on the back of the couch and settled his body pointing in your direction, with a smug smile on his face using a serious tone, you felt his intensity. You only got more confused and thought, what? why would it matter what you thought? what was he trying to say?

“Because I’m interested in you. You come in here with the question of why I chose you, you want to know?” Chris said again, almost scaring you that he was answering what you were thinking.

Either he was fucking smart enough to read people easily and deduce obvious thoughts or there was something about him that was making you uneasy. You took a small sigh, you felt hopelessly attracted to him, dizzy, as if seeing his dark eyes was hypnotizing you, you quickly averted your gaze, scared thinking about what the fuck was going on, you saw the glass of juice, had he put something in it? That’s what you get for accepting drinks from an unknown man…

“It’s just juice” he answered, “You’re not feeling well?” he replied.

You looked at him again confused and slowly regained your composure.

“Why me?” you said, almost in a whisper, he raised his eyebrows waiting to hear more from you, “Why would I interview you at your home, specifically me, I have never interacted with you or been in the same area of the hospital working, besides, I’m just a nurse student.”

You had so many questions that you couldn’t deduce an answer to, you were curious and it made Chris grin from ear to ear. If only you knew, and you were about to, however, Chris just covered up the truth a little.

“You have such a genuine and kind gaze about you, never in the long years I’ve lived in this place have I ever seen a woman like you. You are so human, you are the one who takes care of the patients’ sleep when the doctors are away. I saw you that time when you were on shift at night… I asked your name, something about you never left my mind since then. I wanted to hold you close, to know you.”

And it was true, it was innocence to one of the questions your colleague asked you when Chris overheard the conversation, he turned to see you slyly and you captivated his attention, it was as if he had developed a new sensory ability that revolved around you. That night you left at 4 a.m. from that shift at the hospital, you were covering hours for an occasion you couldn’t attend, Chris lurked in the dark behind your back, making sure you arrived safely.

You understood half the things he said to you, didn’t know whether to take it as a confession, whether to blush, whether he was saying he liked you, you didn’t want to jump to conclusions, you didn’t even think you looked cute in your baggy clinic clothes, you didn’t know what he was talking about. Chris knew how overwhelming it all suddenly seemed to you, so he continued.

“And suddenly I saw, you have this presence about you of being someone to trust, someone who knows how to keep secrets. So I’ll tell you everything, things that people who know about this are dead. I’ll give you a better interview.”

You felt a shiver. Confusion and genuine curiosity in your bright eyes as your breath was cut off at his masculine, domineering presence and wordplay that felt like riddles. For Chris, he didn’t need any more facts about you, he knew absolutely everything. Digging into your little more than twenty years of life was not a difficult task for him, compared to his long journey. There was only one thing he needed and wanted and that was to have you, to breathe your scent, to listen to you and to look into your eyes. He was obsessed, so in his madness he wanted to confess you something that only 1 person “alive” in this world knew. By sharing his secret with you, he hoped to be united with you for eternity.

“What is it about?” you asked with uncertainty in your voice.

The innocence in your gaze filled Chris completely and he smiled smugly, pressing his long index finger on the button of your voice recorder, you became engrossed in the pallor of his strong arm, almost transparent leaving his notorious veins visible, until he spoke and you stared at him.

“My name is Christopher Chan Bahng, I was born on October 3rd, 1797 in Seoul, South Korea. My father was Korean and my mother was French, they met when my mother escaped the country shortly after the French Revolution, her whole family went their separate ways and her ship stopped in the lands of East Asia, she met my father, a merchant fond of the folk healing medicine of the time and I was born, the eldest of three children. I had a beautiful sister and brother, whom I adored with my soul until their last breaths, both died old and happy. And I-, well, I’m still here, right?”

You looked at him puzzled, skeptical, wondering if this was a joke, 1797, French revolution, what the fuck was he talking about? You wanted to start looking around for cameras because you thought it was a fucking joke.

“I had a good childhood, everything was fine until I turned thirteen and my mother had to go back to France because her sister got sick and she was the only family she had, she didn’t hear from her parents two years after she moved to Korea, so she took me and my siblings, leaving my father behind. It was in Paris in 1810 when the curiosity and passion for medicine was born in me, I had seen it a little bit with my father but things in Europe were so different. All the people lived sick, and died young. Conflicts left in their wake an unbelievable amount of disease. I traveled around Europe, learned languages and studied medicine in France, but female anatomy was my particular interest, they were such enigmatic, intelligent beings but my passion leaned more towards obstetrics, it was amazing that because of women humanity kept growing and growing and the world looked down on it. I loved to see and receive a new life… most of the time I was dedicated as an obstetric doctor for women of important families, so carrying the little one in my arms I could deduce that they would have a good life, good, for that time, but I always loved to help, I would visit the French village in search of poor pregnant women and I would do my best to preserve the life of both. Life was always for me… something so precious because back then every day was a new challenge, public executions, dying at sea and never being found when traveling, an infection or disease from an unknown agent that could lead to your death, the bad habits people used to have, the types of beliefs, life back then was ephemeral and a ticking time bomb.”

You listened to him attentively, lost in the details, you didn’t know if it was a joke or a story but… you were slowly falling for it, Chris was telling everything with emotion, with his hands moving and his look… as if he was genuinely remembering his past.

“On the other hand, my siblings made their lives, my sister got married at 20, she was a pianist and singer and went to live in Great Britain. My brother was a respected judge and married at 25 and I... was truly immersed in medicine, I never stopped to think about love, about wanting to marry and live with a traditional family, I was lost in study and in the discovery and advancement of medicine, until shortly before I turned 28, in 1825, my mother became ill with cholera and died. I was devastated, I became obsessed to the point of wanting to study more and more, I studied with some colleagues but I couldn’t stand it and the following year I escaped to Korea again in search of my father, to see if he was well, gosh, it was so extreme the way you had to reach out to someone. I arrived in Seoul the winter of 1826, I was lucky enough to find my father and we had a close relationship again. I went back to work as a doctor, I was a little bit popular as it was so fascinating for the pregnant women of the time, a doctor from Europe and... the following spring I met the love of my life, a popular midwife in town, we met doing our work and I fell deeply in love, by the fall I turned thirty I was marrying Lim Sohee.”

Chris paused for a second and silence fell, as if mentioning that name had overwhelmed him. And it had, it was touching deep down inside him, he hadn’t mentioned he... since so many years ago. You were engrossed, studying his demeanor and listening to the story... if it was a joke, how come he could tell it so well, you were in your mind visualizing every single thing, letting yourself be carried away by whatever he was telling you.

“I really thought I would have it all in Seoul, when I met Sohee I knew I wanted a family, that I wanted to take care of another life, having children and adoring them forever... but she could never conceive. She was infertile. We had a bad time trying, but she was getting sadder and sadder as it was what we both did and she couldn’t have ours. At that time I... was so desperate to know which of us was the main cause so I did something I will never forgive myself for, I impregnated a young, virginal woman from an important family... and the consequences were inevitable, I had my first daughter, identical to me, with my mother’s eyes. Bahng Chanmi was born on April 13th, 1830. I was happy because my dream was to have children, but devastated at the same time. Chanmi’s mother’s family, Insook, found out and for a moment I thought I was going to be executed as I was a married man, but they forced me to leave Soohe and marry Insook instead” Chris cleared his throat as if that was hard to speak, “Sohee couldn’t believe it, she left me and ran away to Japan leaving me heartbroken. I never saw her again and I never thought I would ever be able to love another woman again other than my own daughter, but I felt she took everything from me... until I...” Chris paused again to look at you carefully but continued, “I lost myself again, I didn’t love Insook, but I wanted to be a good father to Chanmi, so I was there for her. Two years after Chanmi was born, my father died, I endured two more years in Seoul and in 1834 I arrived with Insook and Chanmi in Sydney. I loved it here from the first moment I set foot in... but I was still disoriented, I was a mess, I felt that everyone around me was leaving me, I was only there for my daughter, I was passionate about nothing else, I fell into a bad habit of going to parties and taking refuge in alcohol and it was just one day after my 37th birthday when I immortalized that number in me. On October 4th, 1834 at about 3 a.m. in the harbor area of Sydney, a creature creeping in the night lured me with his voice and words, I was drunk, with no mind at all... and it was that night that he made me into what I am now” a new pause, “A vampire.”

You didn’t expect that, in fact you didn’t know what you expected in all that talk... but a vampire explained why he talked about himself living since the 19th century... but a vampire, it was illogical. There was no such thing, still, you again felt a chill and an uneasiness in his gaze. You didn’t want to be intimidated by that... it must be a joke, a scary story.

Christopher remembered it as if it were yesterday, the sleek, slender shadow of a delicate blond man approaching a helpless, drunken, heartbroken doctor. His face was angelic, but his demonic voice and intentions of a cold, murderous beast were even worse.

“I have seen you for a long time Dr. Christopher Bahng, saving lives to the good people in Sydney, doing god’s work... but... I see nothing but hell in you, you are unhappy, don’t you want some remedy?”

His voice was rough, thick, and his tone of voice playful. Chris remembers being dizzy, still seeing his silhouette and face. A young man, beautiful with freckles, long blond hair, wide dark eyes, and pale skin. Chris thought he was dreaming... or to have arrived in heaven, although if that’s what heaven was all about, why did he feel so ill.

Chris watched him in confusion, the cold sea air shivering his body with chill. The man was dressed in black and there was something in his gaze that unsettled every inch of Chris.

The blond huffed out a chuckle.

“I’m going to disappear everything from you... I’ll be your cure.”

“How?” was all a desperate Chris could say.

“All it takes... it’s just a little taste... of your blood.”

The next thing Chris felt was two strong stabs on his neck, the slender boy took his body, biting his neck, sucking and tasting every part of him. Chris whimpered and panted loudly, he felt mutilated, it was worse than the feeling of a scalpel on his skin and the sensation spread through his body, Chris struggled and fought, but surprisingly the thin boy was much stronger than him. Then he fell weak and unconscious, he knew nothing, until dawn when workers shook his body vigorously trying to wake him up near the harbor. But Chris felt different and the sunrise was slowly burning down his skin.

“Felix Lee was the name of the man... vampire who turned me. Felix was an attractive man, he had a unique beauty that mesmerized anyone, his appearance was so innocent which is why people fell for his tricks so quickly, Felix loved the game of seduction, cat and mouse, he would lure both men and women and then kill them leaving them without a drop of blood...”

You looked at him skeptically, his story was making less and less sense to you, Chris stopped instantly knowing what you were thinking.

“I know I know” he chuckled, “A vampire is kind of... crazy, with all the fiction these days, the movies and the marketing but... Party trick, check this out” Chris said amused.

Suddenly, he showed you his teeth, a normal set of teeth until you watched as in a millisecond his fangs lengthened, becoming sharp typical fangs... vampire fangs. You were scared, you didn’t want to believe it, it was impossible. His teeth went back to normal.

"There’s no reason to take the family photos, you wouldn’t believe it, photoshop makes those wonders and old-fashioned stuff out of my medicine materials? People sell it on ebay all the time... how come I can prove it to you?”

“A vampire?” you said in fright, interrupting him, “Really... it’s not a joke...?”

“Sadly no. I’ve been 37 for 190 years.”

You laughed in disbelief, you were beginning to believe... but your mind betrayed you, freaking you out and thinking that maybe this was a killer, a psychopath who likes blood, one of those obsessed weirdo types and perhaps the idea entered his head like internet psycho...? Chris laughed.

“I’m not some weirdo who obsesses over something he sees on the internet, not some random killer either” he commented.

You freaked out and went back to see him... how did he....

“How do I know what you think? I can read minds a little bit” he answered amused.

You denied, you were so scared to visualize anything else... that your mind betrayed you and you thought of Twilight’s movie.

“Twilight, really? Give me something more believable to tell you.”

You widened your eyes in fright, your breathing was getting uneven and you thought about calling Jeongin, that it was enough trick or treat and you had to go home.

“Jeongin... he’s not your boyfriend, is he? I didn’t expect you to want to leave so soon.”

“How do you know all that? Can you stop?”

“I’m sorry, it’s your privacy, I understand,” he apologized, “I don’t want to scare you.”

Chris didn’t know what your reaction might be, that was one of the only things he couldn’t control, but something in him was irrevocably drawn to you and the strength of that desire for you was so strong and hard to handle. It was... as if all his years of discipline, long decades of controlling his hunger and bestial lust were in vain, in the end, he fell for a young and simple human.

He was exactly scaring you... if you believed him... what was the point of telling you.

“I’m not going to hurt you either” he replied.

“How?” you told him more calmly after seeing his soft and worried expression, something in you couldn’t distrust him, “It’s so unreal...”

He sighed.

“It’s one of the questions I’ve asked myself for over a hundred years, but it wasn’t my fault, I didn’t ask to be, I cherished life but I didn’t ask to live for eternity, Felix turned me...”

You looked him in the eyes, “And what happened to Felix?” you interrupted him.

“After he turned me... I didn’t know what was happening to me, I had those two marks on my neck, the sun was burning my body and I had a ravenous hunger that wouldn’t be filled with food. And it was something I couldn’t control even being near Insook or Chanmi, I thought I was becoming mentally ill and wanted to murder them. I walked away from them and wandered around feeling weak and sick, I thought I would die alone. I was locked in my office, receiving no one until a young woman knocked on my door at night, worried about her dead sister’s baby whom she was now caring for, but I couldn’t, the smell of blood was killing me. The child had a fever and I did everything I could, I cured him by telling her that she should leave as soon as possible and to keep me updated if the fever went down and she insisted on thanking me, with the baby resting in a crib, I could not take it anymore and drank the poor girl’s blood and she fell, weak in my arms and I thought I had killed her, I was terrified, I acted on impulse and from there I knew I had become a monster. I didn’t know what to do... but I felt so good, so alive and strong. I took care of the child and left the woman’s body in the office, but she woke up the next day leaving me terrified, all this was defying every part of my being studied by science, I did not know how to control it and I also turned her. Felix showed up one night, congratulating me for my first blood tasting, I wanted to beat him to death, I asked him what I had become and he laughed and told me... a vampire. In the end it was chaos, Felix fell madly in love with the young girl I had turned and convinced me to go and live with them and the baby, as he said... we were the only monsters in Sydney. Felix would kill, but he never turned anyone. He was turned by an English guy who came back to Europe when Felix was innocently looking for some sex. He was obsessed with me as soon as he saw me... but once Adeline came along, the girl I converted, she truly became the love of Felix’s life.”

The distance between you and Chris was getting shorter, you listened carefully to his every word that came out with emotion, more than his old story, this time it was getting serious and you could see it in every part of it.

“Felix became so obsessed because she was a young, virginal woman, bragging that taking her blood was the reason it would satisfy my lust for quite a while. I lived with them but was still caring for and raising Chanmi. They both raised Adeline’s nephew and had the crazy idea of turning him when he was older. They were a mess together, I tried to convince them not to kill, and I fed myself on fake blood donation schemes I made up... but Felix and Adeline had a killer and predator instinct, they loved to catch people and rejoice in their pain and cries. After 10 years of living with them, my little Chanmi couldn’t understand why her mother was getting older and her father looked just like how she remembered him as a child. I made excuses and when she turned 20 I explained to her... Everything was fine, I lived with them because I was obsessed, they were my objects of study, I wanted to know the anatomy of a vampire and how anything worked, but impossible not to be captivated by them and their dirty little games” Chris grimaced, remembering his weak moments when lust would take over his instincts and he would have sex with both of them, “but Adeline had a secret, she was in love with me and not Felix, she confessed it to me after living 15 years with them and in her madness she believed it was Felix who came between us so, one evening in June 1849, Adeline killed Felix, giving him dead people’s blood, making him weak and confused, then stabbed his heart and set the house on fire...”

Chris looked you in the eye as you imagined each graphic scene. At least Chris believed Felix was dead however no body was ever found... although he wondered if it was even possible to come across a vampire body since the house wasn’t completely ruined, they got to cease-fire in time but found nothing.

“Then I did something I’m not proud of” you saw him attentively, “Adeline threatened to hurt Insook and Chanmi if I didn’t stay with her, that she would tell everyone what kind of creatures we are... the next thing I did was to capture her and keep her kidnapped for a week without human blood contact, she was going crazy and her hunger was a thousand times bigger than a romance, she promised to stay away from me if I released her, I did it and never saw her again...”

You worried, thinking that she may be seeking revenge to which Chris smiled, unable to help but read your mind and find it tender that you cared.

You had so many questions as soon as the silence formed... so many but so many questions but you just said:

“So what happened next?”

“Well, I stayed away from practicing medicine for periods because it was so suspicious that I was supposed to be 60 and I looked 30. My life became miserable as soon as Chanmi died at 85. I got to see her two children grow up, but she knew them well enough that she realized if she told them that their grandfather was a vampire they would expose me so my secret went along with her... I occasionally see everyone to make sure my family tree is still there. But the Bahng family name has been lost. I went back to Europe with a new identity, I went back to Asia and back to Australia again, I was just doing that to fill the void, I couldn’t die, and I wasn’t sure how a vampire could die, I also didn’t want to die terribly or in the horrible way Adeline did to Felix; I wanted a normal life, I wanted to grow old, to have children, I always wanted more children, to see them grow up and take them to play...”

You grimaced, analyzing the anguish in his tone as he confessed something that seemed like a dashed dream, you wondered for a second if he could still have children.

“Of course I still can” he replied looking you straight in the eye, making you feel inferior because it was hard to believe he could read your mind, “Physically I’m thirty years old forever, mentally, well... I must have died over 100 years ago” he let out a chuckle.

“And you stayed in Sydney, why? I thought you couldn’t stand the sun,” you said.

You wanted to avoid thinking about him, his closeness, his physical attractiveness, and his serious emotional tone of voice when saying something, as you knew he was going to know what you were thinking about.

“I can do it, for a short time and under a lot of protection, I love the beach, I adore seeing it even if I look like a lunatic covered from head to toe” he laughed again, “I finally stayed in Australia in the early 20th century and it wasn’t until the 80’s that I met someone like me... another vampire who was stalking me for years without me knowing it, Kim Seungmin, the director of the hospital, since then we have a pact, he has taken care of absolutely everything and keeps me in practice, I disappear for a while, then go back to my work, but lately people have been so curious to know what I do, the last identity I had is that I was born in 1987, I think I can work 10 more years, then I’ll step away for another few years until I can reappear, but you young people today, it’s hard to hide identities since you know everything, you’re suspicious of the slightest thing just because I don’t even have a damn instagram. Being a vampire is miserable.”

You opened your eyes in surprise to discover that there was more than one near you, or at least in the same city.

He stared at you again, piercing you with his gaze, “I led a strict lifestyle with discipline, I stopped drinking blood and did so only at Seungmin’s clandestine meetings when he gave it to me. Sometimes I only stayed alive out of curiosity at some point... if I could ever feel anything else, if I could ever let myself feel empty, or if I was doomed for eternity. Now I want to answer all the questions you have, you are free to know everything.”

His face slightly close to yours made you nervous, his gaze carried something you had never seen in someone before. Suddenly you forgot every single one of your questions, from the most serious and sensible to the silliest, you were absolutely unfocused and could only think about how your breath was going away at that enigmatic attraction you felt, it didn’t feel like any normal attraction, but it genuinely felt like something of yours, not something he was making into you. Your intrusive thoughts won out, you wanted to kiss him, you wanted to do it from the second you saw him, and you wanted a little adventure being alone at night, but the small thought of a simple make-out turned dark.

And Christopher could know every single scene that crossed your mind, once again you made him feel different, you made him feel full of energy without the need to taste your blood, he was no longer a soulless creature that had been living in darkness for almost 200 years, he had a desire towards you as any other human could feel but in him, it was a thousand times more intense, he gathered all the energy for the long years he never managed to get it.

He wasn’t sure whether to fulfill your thoughts but he couldn’t resist it any longer, he wanted to have you like he had never felt before and every second he didn’t touch you was overwhelming, he might die if he didn’t.

Your heart pounded as Chris put a big, cold hand on your face. He could smell and feel in every inch of himself your alive, human, blood-pumping body. His lust turned to a dark desire to taste you, an uncontrollable desire to fill your body with pleasure and fill himself with something more intense than a drug, your sweet, thick blood.

“And even after all these fucking years of the same hell... nothing compares to what you make me feel. You drive me crazy. This is something new, after 190 years of study and discipline... that fucked off as soon as I saw you.”

Once again his intimidating, deep gaze fixed on you, Chris brought his hand to your other cheek and held your face, analyzing it, as if it was something so unfamiliar to him... you watched him and let him touch you, almost quivering in shivering, between excitement at the tense atmosphere and uncertainty at the constant mystery he had you trapped in. Bahng breathed deeply, filling himself with your scent and enjoying the feel of your smooth young skin in his icy hands. He moved closer to you, pushing your voice recorder to the floor and you placed your hands over his to feel his long, slender fingers, his protruding veins... vampire or doctor, human, your body was uncontrollably begging for Christopher Bahng.

Finally, he kissed you, his masculine, cold nose touching your face to join your lips deeply and passionately with a hunger that never seemed to cease. It felt so good to be kissed and taken by a man, between his big hands that one of them went down to your neck causing you to shiver every time he had contact with your skin, but for Chris who has lived in coldness for an exaggerated amount of time, having you close and touching you was like discovering warmth for the first time. His lips were soft and plump and his movements delicate but passionate. So far arousal for him had been so normal, an idea that occasionally crossed his mind and he would seek some sex to distract himself and he enjoyed it and liked to do it... but right now with you, it was different, it was a colossal desire to have you, and his desperate touches reflected it.

He lowered his hands to your waist and slowly drew you into his body, until he was carrying you lightly with ease and placing you on his lap. You felt him, felt the firmness of his crotch press exquisitely against your cunt. Chris stroked down your body, stroked your hair in desperate acts as he longed to feel your bare skin, and kept playing with his mouth, lips, and tongue on you until you were breathless and just as you were about to part from him slowly, he found a way to bite down hard on your lower lip, making you moan softly and causing you to slightly expel blood from it; Chris smiled and licked your lip, playfully tasting your blood, as it wasn’t exactly from that source that he could fully satisfy himself.

You both looked at each other expectantly with ragged breaths; Chris acted desperate and took off your sweater, admiring your silhouette to take off your bra, you felt the cold of the room on your body making your nipples hard, you were nervous and stunned at the speed in which things were happening but you let yourself go again as you felt his big hands squeeze and caress your breasts while his fleshy lips went to your neck, kissing it and leaving hickeys that made you moan in pleasure, your center was so needy, throbbing desperately like your heart, it was adrenaline with excitement, it was such an addictive feeling so you began to move gently over his erection, making you both hotter and getting Chris’ rough, sexy short moans on your skin in response.

Chris kept caressing your breasts and squeezed your nipples, adapting to every sensation of his skin against yours, guarding in detail every sound you made and the action of your body every time he touched you. This time he was putting all his will into not letting his bestial side win, but he inhaled the scent of your neck and watched your skin tingle... he wanted to taste you, to drink you, and the idea made his hard erection throb, he had never felt sexual pleasure from biting someone, the action itself conveyed the sensation of intense orgasms together without the need for his genitals to react but right now he was being a mess, he had no control of his body, his cock was alive, hard and present for every inch of you... and the curiosity for your taste was driving him to madness.

“Baby girl I want to taste you... I want you to make me feel so full” he whispered, still torn whether to do it or not.

You stopped moving, and every hair on your skin bristled, you knew exactly what it meant, you leaned back on his shoulders and his hands caressed your waist and back, suddenly you felt the sharp edge of his fangs caress your skin. Slight fear and uneasiness came over your body, and your heart skipped a beat... if you let him do it, where would he do it? To what part of your skin does he get to pierce his fangs? Does it get into a vein? You can bleed to death...? And if it’s something he does, seduce young people and then drink their blood? Will you die tonight?

“Your pretty mind is full of questions...” he said again, his voice full of lust as he tightened his grip on your waist, “You’re a nurse, you shouldn’t be afraid of a little pain and light pinching...”

You let out a gut-wrenching scream, filling Chris’ every sense, he did it, he couldn’t control it and tasted you. He knew it hurt like hell, that only a sick fucker turned on by someone else’s pain could enjoy it and that was him, right now, what he wanted so badly to evade in his younger years in such cruel times.

You dug your hands in and slapped his shoulders, struggling to get away from him, crying as you felt two stab wounds dig in and penetrate your neck beyond your muscle, you wanted him to stop, you were feeling the suction of your blood, it was a new and uncomfortable feeling; for Chris it was heaven itself, 60 seconds in paradise tasting your thick and delicious blood that he had fantasized about for so long, the one that made you so unique, that flowed into your being and carried in it secrets of who you came from. Your blood filled him completely and as soon as he tasted it he knew it was pure and virginal blood. It drove him absolutely insane. And for you, it was hell, 60 seconds of sharp, agonizing pain.

His fangs pierced deep into you, every second was eternal but you felt that no matter how hard you fought it was in vain, you began to feel weak, to stop whimpering loudly and your vision began to blur, you were terrified but weak, you didn’t want this to be your final day.

On the other hand, Chris was holding you tightly by the waist until he left marks on your skin, he couldn’t stop, he had never tasted anything like this, he was obsessed, but he couldn’t prolong your pain any longer so he stopped.

His face turned away from your neck and he stared at you. You could see his smug smile and his lips and long fangs tinged with a thick dark red, which he licked, reveling in every last drop. You reacted again, frightened, your heart wanting to burst out of your chest, you brought your hands trembling with pain and horror to your neck and the wounded area, your neck hurt but it was a tolerable pain of discomfort, you felt the area, terrified to find yourself bleeding out but there was nothing, more than a few small drops of blood that stained your fingers and the sensation of the marks of two circular bites.

“No... I’m not bleeding... why?” you said in terror, feeling uncomfortable at the sensation of his marks as you palpated them.

“You forget I’m a surgeon too and that I’ve been a doctor for almost two hundred years, I made the perfect incision for you, pretty girl” he spoke in an arrogant tone, grabbing your trembling hand with your index and middle fingers enveloped in little blood and licked them playfully.

“I loved tasting your blood, now I’ll love tasting some more.”

Chris moved your body nimbly, sitting you on the couch as he bent down slightly, looking deeply at you again making you shudder, your fear slowly lowered, your body was racing, and you didn’t know if you were alive or dead but the sensations were so real. You felt you shouldn't have gotten aroused, but you did, his big hands tugged your skirt down until it was pulled off, and he spread your legs apart and got down on his knees in front of your center covered by your wet panties and fishnet stockings.

“Let me make you feel good. Is that okay?”

His tone of voice was sensual and captivating, his hands squeezed and massaged your thighs without touching your pussy. You didn’t understand how you went from fearing for your life to being once again with a fierce sexual appetite. You bit your lip to hold back your moan. You were alive. He was a vampire and you were both suddenly looking for sex on that cold and lonely night. You held back a moan and nodded, embarrassed to respond.

Chris drew a mischievous half smile on his face, observing and admiring every detail of your confused and aroused pretty and delicate face, your cheeks red and shiny from your previously shed tears of pain and finally he finely caressed with his fingers the length of your pussy getting as a response a moan and the soft twitching of your body. He pulled off your stockings desperately almost tearing them and pulled the fabric of your panties aside to admire your glistening pussy wrapped in your arousal, he let out an incredulous chuckle, now he was the skeptic that he could finally have you, that you had him trapped and feeling like he never had in 227 years on earth that most seemed like hell to him, until he met you, make today the day he could have you and kissed your lips; and the idea that you were a sweet young virgin woman went to his head, he wanted to make you feel so good, he wanted you to enjoy yourself like never if another boy never did, he wanted to treat you like the delicate girl you were, but also his inhuman pleasure wanted to take your body and feel your insides hard.

“Look at you, you’re beautiful.”

He was mesmerized, sweetly overwhelmed, poisoned and obsessed. He never wanted to let you go. He wanted you to be his, to leave a mark on you that would remind the world that you belonged to him, that he was the lucky one who put his hands, eyes and heart on you.

Chris brought his lips close to your clit, sucking it gently, you were again weak but with pleasure at the same time full of energy, your body was restless mind anxious for everything he could do to you, you could think of nothing else but him and you now in that room surrendered to desire.

Chris began to lick you, pulling away the fabric of your panties with one hand and with the other caressing every area that his mouth could not reach to coat, you moaned, his mouth was also cool to your warm core, it was feeling so good, Chris was hard at the thought of your innocence, of the light fabric that kept him from having you completely naked, that you were just beginning to live, that a few seconds ago you were crying in pain and now you were biting your lip holding back your gasps.

He began to stimulate you, licking your vulva, entwining his tongue in your labia, caressing your clit, pulling back the fabric of your panties, and stroking you over it to play with you and moisten it further, teasing your entrance. You stirred in place, restless and excited, forgetting the pain in your neck and shyly stroking his soft, slightly wavy dark hair. You were so aroused, every inch of you wrapped in fire.

Chris finally removed your panties as he saw you flustered and aroused, enjoying every second of caressing your legs on the spot, and took your pussy again with more desperation, he stopped his slow gentle play and began to eat you roughly but his movements were nimble and pleasurable. His face was buried in your core with his long fingers touching absolutely everything about you and when you least expected it, two of his digits inserted deep inside you, fucking you in a rapid pace.

You watched him the whole time, Chris occasionally gasped into your pussy genuinely happy to taste you, he was engrossed in you, wrapped in pleasure as he heard your moans and felt your body tremble. Chris raised his arm to reach up to caress your abdomen and breasts, he wanted to miss absolutely nothing about you that night he had you. You were on the verge of collapse and he knew it, he looked up as he went back to sucking your clit, he made eye contact with you, his dark eyes watching you fade before him and play with pleasure, you gasped releasing the tension in your lower abdomen, pushing out an intense orgasm that delighted Chris more than thousands of liters of unknown people’s blood could along his vampiric trajectory. Your sweet orgasm juice was something new that he could die from if he didn’t consume it, he discovered his new antidote for eternity.

You were agitated but inside you knew this wasn’t over yet. Chris savored your orgasm and felt impatient, he knew you couldn’t wear two marks on your neck proudly... or maybe you could, with how crazy he thought it was nowadays, but he was past his craziest moment, now he wanted to do to you what any human in a situation like you both were in would do, he was going to forever attach himself to you, he was going to enjoy every second of being inside you and being the first one to do it.

“Fuck, I can take it anymore, you will be mine forever.”

You watched as Chris stood up as he licked his lips covered in your glistening liquid, and took off his shirt in one swift movement because he wanted to feel your ragged breathing on his chest and the pounding of your heart attached to it and stripped completely naked removing his remaining clothes. You didn’t know you were really expected to lose your virginity that night let alone with Dr. Bahng... who confirmed you to be a vampire. You saw his face and pale, muscular naked body without any marks or scratches with nervousness and excitement, feeling your center moisten at the sight of his large erect cock. He moved closer to you, with a lurking gaze and kissed you again, playing with your tongue and your body trembled at the sudden sensation of his cock rubbing between your vulva and being wrapped around your labia.

“Ah, fuck, I’ll make you mine now, baby girl” he gasped in exasperation.

Chris couldn’t resist the softness of your folds teasing his cock so he slowly delved into your entrance, making you whimper as he hurt you again and opened up another part of you. But you enjoyed it, this time the pain was purely pleasurable and the scene of his large, wide cock opening your entrance was so obese and graphic. Chris moaned in pleasure with your walls choking his rigid member deep inside you. You saw the slight bulge in your belly form in your lower abdomen one last time as Chris carried your weak and excited body, making you wrap your legs around his body, he grabbed your ass and began to control your body raising and lowering it to his desire as he enjoyed your insides being sweetly ravaged. You whimpered again feeling so full but sore, you hugged him, pressing your bare chest to his. Chris moved your body with ease and at his mercy, babbling and moaning absolutely lost in the sexy sensation of finally having you, sliding his cock into your newly-used entrance, feeding himself on your soft whimpers. Chris felt full again, as alive as he hadn’t been for long, overwhelming years, your fluids combining with his, sliding along his cock and falling towards the floor gracefully, being a mess of passion that cold night. Chris fantasized about filling every part of you with his cum, the risk of the frantic sex you were having was taking him to the clouds, for the first time he had his experience close to heaven.

You felt your orgasm close, you were on the edge, it felt so good you wanted to arch your back, you parted from him, restless and agitated, throwing your head back enjoying the sweet pace it was to have him deep in you tickling and pounding deep inside you. Chris raised his eyebrows, ecstatic seeing your borderline expression, closing your eyes and throwing your head back panting softly, he stroked your neck at first, running his thumbs over the fang marks on your neck, thinking that lust had won in your body, with the amount he sucked you must have felt dizzy and passed out... but there you were bouncing on his cock, about to have your second orgasm and without thinking about it, again something took over him, to have absolute control of everything about you, to have you on the edge of absolutely every single thing you did, Chris grabbed your neck hard, causing you a sharp pain as he pressed tightly on your still sensitive injured area and started to cut off your breath, choking you and still moving your body with ease on his cock. You looked at him, his expression was soft, his eyes dark, but his actions were brutal, abusing your entrance, cutting off your breath and hurting you more where he had previously done so... the pain was grinding in your neck, which made you let out a tear, the pain in your sensitive pussy burned and throbbed, but you couldn’t help but continue to experience an irremediable pleasure, your pumping system seeking release, fighting against what to control first, you whimpered, his grip on your neck growing tighter and tighter, you pinned back into his strong shoulders, whimpered chokingly, finally collapsing in an orgasm that weakened every one of your limbs. And in the midst of your orgasm Chris cum inside you, fantasizing about the idea that you might be the sweet, tender woman who could carry on the Bahng name after so many years.

He let go of your neck gradually, letting you take a breath of air. Chris pulled out of you, leaving you surrendered with the warm sensation of his cum sliding down your entrance. You wanted to cry from the stabbing pain in your body but you were so tired to do so, you were so shaken, worried about the speed of your heartbeat, but you fell back into his strong arms, leaned your cheek on his shoulder and could only whisper:

“Chris I’m tired.”

Your eyelids began to grow heavy, you were feeling sedated and without control of your limbs.

“Oh my sweet girl, of course you are, I drank a good amount of your blood and you continued to have sex” he spoke in an obvious tone, causing him tenderness at your state.

Chris put his forearm behind your knees, carrying you as your legs felt numb. It was a different feeling, you couldn’t quite rationalize and wanted to fall into a deep sleep. He led you to his room, cold like the rest of the house and your vision began to spin. Chris laid you gently on his bed and you caught a glimpse of his window, illuminated by the night and in front of it the silhouette of a slim blond man... you were slowly falling and before falling into an uncontrollable sleep your mind managed to think of that name Chris mentioned, Felix. Chris read your tired mind for one last time before you closed your eyes to sleep.

He opened his eyes, frightened, there was nothing in the world that scared him more than the demonic presence of that blond boy. His distinctive voice echoed throughout the room and Chris saw his slender silhouette emerge from the darkness of the window.

“Christopher Bahng, my long-time friend. I see you finally got some other lady to have fun with... sharing all your little secrets, but did you miss me?”

꒷꒦︶꒷꒦︶ ๋ ࣭ ⭑꒷꒦ ꒷꒦︶꒷꒦︶ ๋ ࣭ ⭑꒷꒦

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