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megangovier · 2 days ago

Text

@gdinthehouseee 🫶🏻

Too Far: KWON JI-YONG x READER

summary: ji-yong was always restrained when it came to you---his temptation, personified---but unfortunately some things can't last forever...

word count: 2484

tags: steam to angst (trust me guys), hurt no comfort, vampire!jiyong, human!reader, blood + blood drinking, death, guilt

ao3 link

The fire in the grand hearth flickered weakly, casting long shadows against the stone walls of Ji-yong’s secluded estate. Outside, the night was still, moonlight bleeding through the tall arched windows, illuminating the man standing rigid in the center of the room.

Ji-yong wasn’t human. That much had been clear from the moment you met him. Everything about him was too sharp, too refined—his features sculpted with an elegance that didn’t belong to this world. His movements, when he allowed himself to be seen, were fluid, effortless, almost unnatural in their grace. And his eyes… his eyes burned, dark as the abyss itself, filled with hunger he tried so desperately to hide.

It had been days since you last saw him, and now you understood why.

He was starving.

Ji-yong stood across the room, his back turned to you, his body tense as though carved from stone. His hands were clenched into fists, the veins in his forearms straining against his pale skin. Every breath he took was ragged, uneven—like he was barely holding himself together.

"You shouldn't have come," he rasped, his voice lower than usual, rough like the scrape of velvet over steel.

You took a slow step forward. "I had to."

"You don't understand," he hissed, spinning to face you. His eyes—once warm, teasing, full of mischief—were almost black, pupils dilated in a way that sent a shiver down your spine. "I'm losing control."

The confession lingered between you, thick with unspoken warnings. Yet, you didn't back away.

"I know," you murmured, your voice steady despite the way your heart pounded in your chest. "I can see it in you. I see how you're suffering."

He swallowed hard, his hands trembling at his sides. "You think I want this? You think I enjoy the way my body aches for something I can't have? For something that could destroy you?"

"You won’t destroy me, Ji-yong."

"You don’t know that.”

The air between you was thick, electric. You could hear the faint ticking of the antique clock in the corner, the soft crackle of firewood shifting in the hearth. But beneath it all, you could hear him—the uneven hitch of his breath, the way he clenched his jaw, the way his fingers twitched like he was fighting every instinct screaming at him to take what he needed.

"How long has it been?" You asked, voice barely above a whisper.

He turned his head away. "Too long."

That was all he gave you, but it was enough. Enough to understand the way his body shook, the way his lips parted slightly as he exhaled, as though simply being near you was agony.

Your heartbeat drummed steadily in your chest, and you saw the way his eyes flickered toward your throat—the way he swayed, just barely, as if caught between his conscience and his hunger. And yet, he still refused to move toward you so you decided to step forward. Slowly. Deliberately.

"Ji-yong," you murmured, reaching out to him.

He flinched before you could touch him, shaking his head. "Don’t."

"You need it," you said softly, watching how his jaw tightened, how his entire body remained coiled like a predator on the verge of breaking.

"You don’t understand what you’re offering me," he ground out, voice thick with restraint.

"I do," you countered, undeterred. "And I trust you."

His breath hitched, sharp and unsteady, as though even the act of inhaling had become unbearable. You saw the precise moment his control cracked—the slight shudder of his shoulders, the way his fingers curled inward like he was trying to grasp onto the last fraying threads of restraint. His entire body tensed, rigid with conflict, every muscle coiled as if preparing for battle—though whether it was against himself or against the temptation of you, you couldn’t tell. His throat bobbed with a thick swallow, his lips parting just slightly, and you swore you heard the faintest of whimpers escape before he clenched his jaw tight. Even his eyes, which had burned with defiance moments ago, now flickered with something raw—need, desperation, the slow, aching loss of a war he had been fighting for too long.

"You shouldn’t," he whispered, but his voice lacked conviction.

"Then make me afraid," you challenged, stepping closer until you could feel the cold radiating from his body. "Show me why I should run."

His eyes snapped to yours, blazing with something dark and dangerous. "Don't tempt me."

You reached up, fingers brushing against his cheek. His skin was cold, but beneath the surface, you could feel something simmering—an unbearable heat restrained only by sheer will.

"Please," you whispered, tilting your head slightly, exposing the delicate curve of your neck. "Take what you need."

Ji-yong's breath came out in a harsh, shuddering exhale. His restraint shattered. With a growl, he surged forward, his lips capturing yours in a kiss that was both desperate and devastating. His hands found your waist, pulling you flush against him, his body trembling against yours. You gasped into his mouth, and he swallowed the sound, his grip tightening as though he could never be close enough.

And then his lips left yours, breaking away with a soft, lingering drag, as if he was reluctant to part from you even for a second. The absence sent a shiver down your spine, but before you could chase after him, he was already moving—his mouth tracing a slow, tortuous path down the curve of your jaw. His breath, hot and uneven, fanned over your skin, leaving a trail of warmth in its wake. You felt the way his lips hovered just above your pulse, not quite touching, not yet claiming, as though savoring the anticipation was its own form of pleasure. His nose brushed along the delicate column of your throat, and you heard the sharp inhale he took, drinking in your scent like it was something intoxicating. Every second felt stretched, unbearably slow, the air between you thick with tension, with hunger, with the final, fragile moment before surrender. His hands twitched against you, his grip tightening, and when he finally spoke, his voice was wrecked, desperate.

"Tell me to stop."

You swallowed, feeling the rapid pulse beneath your skin. "I won’t."

"Don’t do this to me," he groaned.

A soft, lingering kiss. Then another. And another. It was almost reverent, the way he worshiped your neck, the way his lips traced delicate patterns as if memorizing every inch of you. But beneath the tenderness, there was something raw, something unraveling. His breathing was uneven, his body vibrating with tension, his fingers gripping you like he already knew he was falling.

Then, finally, a sharp sting.

Your breath caught, hands flying to his shoulders as his fangs pierced your skin. The pain was brief, a sudden bite of ice before warmth flooded through you, spreading in slow, tingling waves. Your pulse pounded in your ears, a deep, thrumming sensation that pulsed in time with his lips against your throat.

He groaned against you, and the sound sent a shiver down your spine. His grip on you tightened as he pulled you impossibly closer, his body molding to yours, his fingers curling into the fabric of your clothes like he was afraid you might slip away. His fangs sank deeper, his lips sealing around the wound as he drank, slow at first, savoring it, his tongue sweeping over your skin as he let out a low, guttural sound of pleasure.

The sensation was dizzying. Heat bloomed beneath your skin, pooling low in your stomach, sending tendrils of fire curling through your veins. Your body felt light, almost weightless, like you were drifting somewhere between reality and a dream.

"Ji-yong," you whispered, your fingers slipping into his hair, tangling into the silken strands. You barely recognized your own voice—it was breathless, dazed, lost in the feeling of him.

He growled in response, a deep, primal sound vibrating through his chest. Suddenly, the pull became stronger. Faster. More desperate.

Your eyelids fluttered, another wave of dizziness washing over you as your knees weakened beneath you. Your fingers, which had been gripping his hair so tightly, now slid back down to his shoulders, clinging onto him for balance.

"Ji-yong," you whispered again, a soft plea this time.

But he wasn’t listening. He was lost. His fangs sank deeper, his arms like iron around you, holding you in place as he drank greedily, as if he had been starved for centuries and had finally found salvation. Your body felt weaker with each passing second, your limbs heavy, the fire that had burned so intensely now fading into something softer, something colder. A flicker of unease curled in your chest.

"Ji-yong…" Your voice was fainter now, barely audible, but still, he didn’t stop. Didn’t hear. Or maybe, he simply couldn’t.

Your fingers weakly pressed against his chest, trying to push him back. But you had no strength left. The room around you blurred, the edges of your vision darkening. Your heartbeat, which had been pounding so wildly just moments ago, now slowed.

Slower.

And slower.

And then, it stuttered.

His entire body went rigid, the world around him fading into nothing but the silence—deafening, absolute. His fangs retracted from your throat, the loss of contact sending a sickening wave of clarity crashing into him. He barely had time to catch you as your body sagged, limp and weightless, against his chest.

It took him a moment to realize what had happened. And when he did, terror gripped him like a vice.

“No…” The whisper barely escaped his lips, his hands shaking as they hovered over your face, afraid to touch you, afraid to confirm the truth. His fingers finally pressed against your cheek—cold. Too cold. "No, no, no, no—" His voice broke, his breath coming in sharp, frantic gasps as he cradled you closer.

Your chest still rose and fell, but it was too slow, your breaths too faint.

And your heartbeat—

God, your heartbeat. He could barely hear it anymore. Panic crashed into him like a tidal wave, violent and relentless. His mind reeled, screaming at him to do something, anything—but there was nothing. He had done this. He had drained too much. He had crossed the line he swore he never would. His hands trembled as they cupped your face, tilting your head back so he could see you. Your lips were slightly parted, your lashes fluttering weakly, struggling against the pull of unconsciousness.

"Come back to me," he pleaded, his voice barely more than a whisper. His fingers brushed over your cheek, desperate, frantic. "Please. Open your eyes. Look at me."

Nothing.

A broken sound escaped him, something between a sob and a gasp, his head shaking as if denying the reality before him would change it. His thumb ghosted over your lips, the same lips that had whispered his name in laughter, in teasing, in love. Now, they were still. Lifeless.

His chest constricted painfully, his throat tight with unshed tears.

“This wasn’t supposed to happen,” he whispered, his voice raw, shaking. “I was supposed to protect you.” His grip tightened, his forehead pressing desperately against yours. “You told me it was okay, but—” A sharp inhale. His breath hitched. "You didn’t mean this."

Your breath stuttered. Your fingers, which had been loosely curled against his shirt, twitched once.

"That’s it," he exhaled, hope flaring like a dying ember. "Come back. Stay with me, aein. Please—"

The moment was fleeting, because then your body went still. Completely still. A silence followed—one so absolute, so crushing, that it swallowed him whole. Ji-yong didn’t move. Didn’t breathe. Didn’t blink. It felt like the universe had shattered around him, like reality itself had caved in, leaving him in an empty void where only one truth remained:

You were gone.

His lips parted, a broken gasp escaping as the realization hit him full force. A violent tremor ran through his body, his grip on you tightening as if he could physically hold onto whatever was left of you, as if he could keep you here through sheer will alone. But there was no heartbeat beneath his fingertips. No warmth against his cold skin. No breath. Just silence.

His chest rose and fell in uneven, shaking gasps, but he couldn’t get enough air, couldn’t think, couldn’t process the weight of what he had done. His hands moved, pressing desperately against your face, your arms, your shoulders—anywhere, everywhere—as if trying to coax you back, as if trying to steal back the life he had drained from you. Of course, nothing changed. You weren’t waking up. You never would.

A sob ripped from his throat, raw and strangled, the sound of a man breaking beyond repair. He rocked you in his arms, pressing his forehead against yours, his lips ghosting over your temple.

"You told me I wouldn’t destroy you." A breathless laugh, wet with unshed tears, escaped him. "I told myself I wouldn't, either."

His fingers curled against the fabric of your shirt, clutching at you like a drowning man grasping for the surface. But you were slipping away, already lost to the abyss, and there was nothing he could do to stop it. His lips found your forehead, lingering there in a desperate attempt to memorize the way you felt, the way you smelled, the way you had once been so undeniably, breathtakingly alive. His voice was a whisper, so soft it barely broke the silence.

"I'm sorry."

He wasn’t sure how long he stayed there, cradling you, whispering your name over and over as if saying it enough times could bring you back. His mind refused to process it, refused to let go.

And then—

Something inside him shattered completely.

A raw, guttural cry tore from his lips, his body curling over yours, shaking with the force of his grief. It was a sound ripped straight from the depths of his soul, from the part of him that had once believed he could have something good in this life. But he had been a fool. He had been warned, over and over, that this was inevitable. That love was a luxury his kind could never afford. That mortals were fragile, fleeting, too easily lost. Now, he has proven them right. He had been selfish.

He killed the only thing that had ever made him feel human.

The room was suffocatingly quiet, save for the broken sobs that wracked his frame. He didn’t move, didn’t think—just held you, rocking slightly, whispering your name in a voice that cracked and crumbled under the weight of his sorrow. At some point, the bloodstains on his lips dried. At some point, the warmth of your body faded completely.

And at some point, Ji-yong truly realised how damning eternal life could be.

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#gdinthehouseee #bigbang #bigbang x reader #kwon jiyong #kwon jiyong x reader #gdragon #vampire au #kpop #kpop x reader #vampire #ao3 link #ao3 writer #gdragon x reader

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tenderbeck · 2 days ago

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We found each other (we weren’t even looking)

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── ❦・⸝⸝ pairing: fiend!sylus x fem!vampire!reader

── ❦・⸝⸝ genre: porn with a lot of plot actually, so MDNI

── ❦・⸝⸝ word count: 7.2k

── ❦・⸝⸝ tags: explicit, blood, blood drinking, bites, vampire au, fiend sylus, vampire reader, desperation, they’re desperate for each other fr fr, teasing, A LOT of teasing, i mean it’s sylusmc so ofc there’s teasing, dry humping at the beginning of the smut, oral sex, sylus eating mc out, vaginal sex, size kink, creampie, sylus has two dragon dicks, so double the fun ig, double penetration, in one hole omg, dw she’s fine she’s a strong girlie, belly bulge, knot, begging, oh did I say begging sylus?, because that’s what you’ll get here, my sweet sweet pathetic fiend begging for pussy, sweet aftercare

── ❦・⸝⸝ links: ao3, x thread

── ❦・⸝⸝ summary: You weren’t used to this.

The craving.

It consumed you like a fire, burning everything in its path, without the slightest thought for the damage that could be done if you gave into the temptation, if you let it consume you. If you caved in and tasted that sweet, sweet syrup that will surely be your demise.

The distinct metallic flavour of blood already filling your senses, a familiar taste, as if you had already tasted it in centuries of your life.

One where you were free from the shackles you imposed upon yourself.

But, as you slowly let the fire consume you, you understood that it wasn’t of a destructive nature, oh no: it was more similar to that of a phoenix. The last flicker of life was gnawing at your ribcage, asking, demanding to be felt, just to leave your body soon after and never return.

But, as a phoenix’s fire, it meant rebirth. And what was Sylus to you, if not rebirth?

this is my only lads account, i'll only post my writings here, on ao3 and x NOT IN ANY OTHER BLOGS / ACCOUNTS

── ❦・⸝⸝ author's note: hi babes!! here’s more on my vampire au to understand it better: vampires can feed from any creature, human and non-human, sometimes other vampires but it’s rare. they can smell the scent of blood, and each of them has their preferences and compatibility, so if someone is compatible their blood will smell delicious, if they’re not compatible it will smell awful and it will make the feeding excessively difficult to endure, moreover the taste will be as awful as the smell. hunting for food can lead to sex for diverse motives: to have better access to major pulse points (neck, thighs, wrists, arms, etc) and to soothe the pain that comes with the bite. all magical creatures are accepted in this world, but humans are still wary of them, so that’s why mc doesn’t want too many people to discover she’s a vampire.

to become a vampire, you have to want to be turned by someone or be born as one, mc here was born a vampire so she only knew this life. to turn someone, both people (vampire and human) need to want this, if not the poison exuded from the vampire’s fangs won’t work, since it’s magical and it works with desire.

can’t say more or I’ll spoil the fic, I’ll add something else in the end notes so now enjoy it dolls and let me know what you think about it and remember: english is not my first language <3

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You were hungry. You’ve been hungry for days.

Finding unsuspecting preys was becoming more difficult, and searching for willing ones was nearly impossible. You hated this situation: hunger made you impulsive and you didn’t want to make rash decisions, lest your nature be discovered by too many people.

That’s how you found yourself in this underground bar late at night, totally not the result of your reckless thoughts that you totally weren’t regretting.

You tapped the rim of the glass you were drinking from with your index, the brown liquid still unlike your growing annoyance. This bar was buzzing with mortals already satisfying their sins with one another, none for you to sink your fangs in. You took a sip of your whiskey, carefully looking around again, using your enhanced sense of smell to search for something that was closer to a pleasant scent instead of rotting corpses. Being a vampire had its perks, sure, but being such a selective eater was a nightmare: couldn’t even drink from anyone that didn’t have a compatible blood type because of that awful smell and taste you had to endure if they weren’t. What a joke for an immortal being such as yourself.

As you rolled your eyes at your thoughts, you sensed someone put a drink on the counter and sit one chair away from you, and suddenly their scent invaded your nostrils, making your pupils dilatate and your fangs elongate a bit. This person smelt like leather, cigar smoke, cherries and something you couldn’t quite put your finger on, a unique fragrance that was almost floral to your senses. It was a scent that you salivated for: you never experienced this reaction with your previous preys, their blood must’ve been deliciously compatible.

Facing forward and sipping on your drink, you let your gaze shift to the stranger, not wanting to be caught. You had a reputation to uphold after all.

And oh my if they didn’t look almost better than they smelt: this man had ash grey hair in a wolfcut, crooked nose and such perfect lips, crimson eyes looking everywhere but your direction. He was dressed in a black shirt with specks of red and a big coat engulfed his figure. His posture emanated such a refined and classy energy that made you almost feel underdressed in front of him, even if you were wearing your favourite black gown.

“You know, kitten, staring might be considered rude,” a deep voice interrupted your thoughts and made you pause your every movement. How could he sense your gaze on him?

The man smirked at your reaction and led the glass to his lips, taking a sip. “Are you enjoying yourself?” he said, still facing forward.

You were astonished. How could he be so nonchalant in talking with you?

“You know, talking to a refined lady like me without stating your name first might be considered rude,” you replied, finally turning your head in his direction, feigning a disinterested expression when you were all but that. That’s how you discovered that he turned and now you were looking him straight in the eyes, and it was a mistake. You found yourself pulled by a magnetic force, as if those rubies were calling for your gaze.

As if they were desperate to have you look at them.

“Oh, you’re right, where are my manners” the man smirked again, putting down his glass.

“Asshole,” you thought, “So full of himself. He’ll be a delicious meal at least.”

“I’m Sylus,” he took your gloved hand and kissed it delicately while holding your gaze, “and your name is?”

It was your turn to smirk now, “Oh sweetheart, you need to earn the right to know my name,” you said calmly, “And it’s no easy feat.” You retracted your hand and returned to sip your whiskey, still looking at him. This hunt was becoming fun.

The man – Sylus – shook his head while letting out a little laugh, and you found yourself a little weak hearing it. It was as if every fibre of your being was pulled in his direction, following every action he did, every sound he made and every word he spoke. This was dangerous, you’ve never felt this way.

“And what feats do I have to accomplish to deserve hearing your precious voice saying mine, kitten?” he said, leaning on the counter and looking at you with those ruby eyes that screamed danger, his smile ever-present as if he was mocking you.

You swirled your drink in your hand, the almost finished liquid sloshing inside, and you pondered for a bit the innuendo in his statement. It had passed quite some time since you had an intercourse with someone, and this was the easiest way to gain access to his neck and finally, finally, eat.

But there was also something strange in his request. In his expression. In his whole body-language.

You felt, for the first time in your life, like you were the one being preyed on. Like you had something that he needed. And you didn’t like it. At all.

Even then, you really, really, really wanted to whisper his name in the dead of the night, bodies tangled between satin sheets. Or, who knows, maybe you wanted him to scream yours if he was fortunate enough to hear it spoken from your lips.

“Telling you would spoil all the fun in seeing you try though,” you retorted, finishing your drink. “Don’t you agree?” You flashed him a sardonic smile as you put your glass on the napkin on the counter.

As soon as you finished speaking, something shifted in his gaze and in his smirk. You swore his eyes glowed for a fraction of a second, as if following his change in attitude towards you.

He stood up and sat on the chair next to yours, putting an elbow on the counter and facing you. His posture demanded space, but you didn’t want to give it to him, it would’ve been too easy. He was going all out in his hunt, and you figured two could play this game. You liked a little bit of fun, you just had to let him try, make him think he failed and then go away, change bar and search for a victim that didn’t make you crave the taste of their blood to the point you weren’t even sure if you could stop yourself once you started drinking. In the end you were the real prize here, couldn’t let him think otherwise and let his ego grow more than it already had.

You eyed the green liquor in his glass and slid your middle finger on its rim, thinking of a strategy to make him feel at least flustered in your presence, and not the other way around.

“Since you’re so fond of names, tell me how’s this drink called,” you said, looking up to his face.

He still had that smirk on his lips and a part of you wanted to kiss it away. What a fool you were becoming, letting your thoughts be invaded by this stranger. You needed to concentrate more.

“It’s a green apple liquor made by the bar’s owner,” he said, then his features shifted, morphing into an expression that resembled someone who just had an idea. He took the glass and offered it to you, “Do you want a taste, my lady?”

You quickly seized the opportunity that was presented in front of you, “My, my, what a gentleman you are, Mister Sylus.” You took the glass from his hand, your fingers almost touching, and slowly led it to your lips, taking a sip. The liquid deliciously burned in your throat, and you found yourself actually enjoying it, the sour taste being a nice treat to your tastebuds.

As you put down the glass and were about to say something, he brought his thumb just below your lips and wiped away a droplet of liquor that had escaped your mouth. He then brought it to his lips and licked it away, eyeing you as if he was tasting your essence instead of the liquid.

You instinctively licked your lips, ruining a bit your burgundy lipstick. How could a simple gesture make your core clench and your fangs ache to bite?

“Wouldn’t want to dirty your pretty face, kitten,” he said as he brushed your knee with a hand sending electricity throughout your body and, as if he sensed it, he added, “At least, not in this way.” A smirk.

Oh, you were so done. You couldn’t resist the call for his blood anymore. The call for his body. You had to leave or…

“Care to accompany me somewhere?” he abruptly asked, standing up and offering his hand for you to take. “I have a mansion just outside the city,” he spoke while shifting his gaze up and down your form, “I think you would fit perfectly with the aesthetics. Out of all the buildings I own, that one is my favourite.”

You were a bit taken aback by this sudden request. Where was it coming from?

Before answering you looked at him and, since you could sense something was different in his demeanour, with the aid of your enhanced senses you noticed that his breath was accelerated, his palms were sweating, and he looked almost… impatient? He looked like he couldn’t restrain himself anymore and that amused you, were you perhaps successful in your deed? He was really good at hiding it, though. Only a creature like you could notice this changes.

He was still expectantly looking at you, searching for an answer in your features. Still, you thought of declining his offer, because tonight wasn’t the night for rash decisions, right?

Or so you thought.

You, once again, were wondering what poor life choices led to this moment. Probably letting Sylus, a stranger, take you to his house – no, his mansion - was the one you should be blaming.

As you entered the building you noticed that he didn’t lie when he said you would look good with its aesthetics. It was a grand mansion with red and black furniture, styled impeccably.

The gloomy atmosphere suited your vampiric nature so well that you felt at home here, as if it was made to cater to your most hidden desires.

“You think so?” Sylus’ voice interrupted you.

“Shit,” you thought “I must’ve said it out loud.”

Regaining your composure and your (fake) nonchalant demeanour, you answered, “it is quite classy indeed.” You started to roam around the room you were escorted to and noticed there was a big burgundy leather couch with a glass coffee table just in front of it. On top of the coffee table was a vase with some red flowers, and you suddenly recognised the scent. You slowly approached it and leaned down to smell the flowers.

“Here it is,” you thought, “The flowery scent I smelt on him.”

“Do you like them, my dear?”

You let out a gasp and almost jumped from the unexpected closeness. Sylus was behind you, so, so close, whispering in your ear. How could you not notice him approaching? Were your senses dulling down?

It was true, though, that this house was filled with his perfume. It was coming from everywhere; it surrounded you like a blanket, lulling you into a vulnerable state and you couldn’t let this happen. You still had to eat, and you were letting your guard down so much that you were wondering if revealing your nature would be a wise choice. A fleeting thought almost convinced you that he would’ve enjoyed the process of you biting his flesh and sucking him dry, drinking all the sweet, sweet syrup oozing from his wound.

“They’re called daturas,” he spoke again and approached the flowers, taking one from the vase.

“They symbolise power.”

“And they’re poisonous if ingested,” you added, nearing him and looking up to meet his gaze. “They do suit you, Mister Sylus,” you said as you gently caressed the flower’s petals.

“I think they’d suit you better, kitten,” he retorted, his gaze almost softening. He put the flower behind your ear and got closer to it, whispering, “Will you, too, be poisonous if ingested?”

You could sense his breath caressing your neck, your heart beating faster than it should. Why were you feeling like the prey? He was your prey. Your meal that was waiting to be consumed.

You turned your head towards his, smelling the delicious scent emanating from his neck.

He turned too, putting a hand on your lower back and trying to move you closer, but you didn’t want him to have it easy, so you quickly escaped his grip and started to look around the room some more, giving him a sultry look from behind your shoulder.

Your aimless roaming finally came to an end when you noticed a record player, and you thought of a fantastic way to continue this little hunt game you two had going on. Obviously, you were going to come out victorious.

You approached the record player and started looking at the vinyls near it.

You glanced back and noticed Sylus was staring at you, studying your every move with his arms crossed, as if he was restraining himself from going there and finally, finally touch you. How cute.

You found a vinyl you enjoyed and carefully put it on. It was a limited edition and, even if you were sure you weren’t going to see this man ever again, you didn’t want to ruin his prized possessions.

When the music started to play you put the flower that rested in your hair in the cabinet near the record player and turned around, offering him a hand, “Care for a dance?”

He slowly approached you and took your hand; that smirk adorning his face was almost amused,

“How could I refuse such a gorgeous woman?”

He positioned his hand on your lower back and started to lead the dance. He was a good dancer, you had to admit it, but you couldn’t let him get the upper hand, no?

You started to change the pace, taking the lead. The sensual movements of your bodies together made you almost feverish: this closeness allowed you to smell his scent to a level you weren’t able to before. You were so close that you could hear the fast flow of blood in his veins, his quickened heartbeat and his breath, that was caressing you so tenderly. You almost started to salivate at the sensations engulfing you, your fangs starting to elongate. You were feeling too much too quickly, and it almost made you dizzy.

You had to eat from him.

And you had to do it now.

You pressed yourself against Sylus and whispered in his hear, “Would you like to take this somewhere else?”

You felt him stiffen and you swore you heard him swallow. “Do you know what you’re asking for, kitten?” he brushed his nose against your cheek, “you’re tempting me so much, I don’t know if I can stop myself once I’ve had a taste,” his voice was breathy and needy, his words holding a hidden meaning you couldn’t quite understand. But, nonetheless, your hunt was being successful, and you were so excited to finally, finally consume him.

You nodded and let out a surprised gasp as he picked you up and took you to the upper floor, entering what you thought was the master bedroom. His bedroom.

He gently put you down and you observed better the surroundings: the aesthetic was the same as the rest of the house, dark red and black in everything you saw. In the centre stood a four-poster bed; the red curtains, made of a delicate cloth, flowed gently with the faintest movements.

You turned around and looked sultrily at Sylus, his eyes glowing with desire for you.

“Sit down,” you instructed, and he did exactly that, without asking anything. He took off his shoes and climbed onto the bed, sitting against the pillows and waiting for you.

You took off your heels and started to walk slowly, oh so slowly, towards him, his eyes hungrily following your every movement.

You climbed onto the bed and crawled your way onto his lap, straddling him and putting your hands on his shoulders. You could sense his breath hitching and his eyes becoming hazy, “Already this aroused, baby?” you let out a small laugh as you moved closer to his ear, “I haven’t even started yet.” This was becoming so, so fun.

“It’s difficult to not be, kitten” he gently put his hands on your waist. They just rested there, as if he was afraid that he’d scare you away if he tried to do anything else. He tilted his head to almost meet your face and whispered, “When the object of my desires is here, above me, could I have ever had any other reaction?”

You smiled and leisurely ground on his lap and he let out a breathy moan. You felt his member starting to harden under you and that made you so elated, it was the sign that he was slowly falling into the depths of pleasure, and it was all thanks to your ministrations.

His grip on your waist tightened a little as you started to give open mouthed kissed to his neck. The scent of his blood was so strong here and it made it difficult to concentrate. You licked his pulse point, savouring the taste of sweat and a flavour that was so distinctly him that drove you mad. Thoughts of finally biting him and sucking his blood were plaguing your mind so much that you subconsciously opened your mouth and let your fangs graze his skin, the fear of your nature being discovered thrown out of the window as your arousal was steadily growing, feeling your juices wet your lingerie.

You couldn’t wait any more, his blood was calling for you and you were desperate to answer, so you did the only reasonable thing there was to do: you put your hands behind his neck, tightening your grip on his hair and you opened your mouth, saliva escaping it and falling onto his skin, fangs ready and craving to pierce flesh. So, you bit.

Sylus let out a gasp and his hands tightened around you, but then you felt something prickling your waist. Claws?

However, you were too preoccupied with the blood filling your mouth to perceive his form shifting. It tasted as good as you imagined, if not better. The metallic taste dulled out by the flavours you were savouring; his blood was sweet and then sour, it was hot and then cold, a myriad of facets that resembled the man under you. Unpredictable but yet so familiar.

Many sensations traversed your body as you drank, but they came to a halt when the man took your hair and pulled you away, making you face him.

You were a mess, eyes clouded by desire, blood spilling from your plump lips and your tongue hastily licking it, not wanting to waste a single drop.

But then you focused on Sylus and oh my if he wasn’t even more beautiful in this state than he has ever been before.

His whole body changed, no longer completely human, and you instantly recognised his species, “You’re a fiend,” you stated breathily. If your pupils could become heart shaped, they surely would’ve by now. “So that’s why I felt like a prey,” you thought, “I was a prey.”

His eyes were glowing red, long black horns had sprouted from his head and his hands were clawed, you could feel them on your waist and in your hair; his shirt was torn to shreds, the result of his body changing. He discarded the remnants with a swift movement and said, “Took you long enough to notice,” his voice was deeper but the neediness was still lingering there.

He licked his lips, “You don’t know how much I had to restrain myself from transforming earlier, kitten.” He got closer to you and licked your face, tasting his own blood, “Had I known sooner you were a vampire, things would’ve been easier,” he said, “Now I can fully taste your desire without being judged, since you’ve already helped yourself,” he smirked.

“S– sorry,” you breathed out, now wetter than before because your movements never really ceased, “It’s just that… I needed to eat, and your scent was so delicious I couldn’t stop myself.”

You’ve never felt this way. You were craving Sylus’ blood and body in ways you never knew were possible in all your centuries of life.

He let go of your hair, giving your scalp some relief. Then his hand travelled down, down, down… reaching under your gown and touching your clothed core.

“You’re so wet for me, kitten,” he said as he got closer to your ear, “No need to say sorry, in fact I quite enjoyed it.” He started to slowly stoke your pussy, and you had to steady yourself by laying your head on his shoulder, letting out breathy moans and hugging his neck.

“You can eat some more baby, I won’t wither,” said Sylus. His hand’s movements against your core and the sweet scent coming from his wound led you to latch on it again, savouring that sweet ambrosia, worthy to be the meal of a goddess.

Under you, you could sense Sylus’ dick getting bigger just like your growing desire, but you could feel something else there…

You stopped your feeding, licking your lips clean from blood, and moved your hand down to touch his bulge, whispering, “Is that what I think it is?”

He exhaled loudly in response to your touches, “Yes, my dear, I’ve got two,” the fiend smirked,

“Would you like to see them?”

High on his blood, you let out a moan just at the thought. One was good, but two? How much could they fill you? Would it even be possible?

“Please show me” you breathed out and moved yourself away to leave him space to take off his belt and what remained of his pants. You couldn’t look away, anticipation evident in your features.

“Would you like to help me?” he said, taking your hand and guiding it to his tight underwear. You could feel the two dicks twitching under your touch and decided to stroke them a bit. Even in this state, you still wanted to tease him.

“Damn, kitten, you know how to rile a fiend up,” breathed out Sylus, who started to buck his hips at your hand’s movements, “Touch me more.”

“You sure are a needy creature, aren’t you?” you smirked, and then decided to dip your hand in his underwear, feeling his cocks for the first time. They were girthy and had… ridges?

One was surely smaller than the other, so it would’ve been easier to fit inside your pussy which, you noticed, was now throbbing, aroused by everything you were seeing, smelling, touching, feeling.

You pulled his briefs lower and finally saw the two members in all their glory: they were one on top of the other, their base was pitch black and had red veins that reached the heads, which were red too. The longer bottom one was girthy and had ridges all over it, meanwhile the smaller top one was smoother and slimy. They were both already leaking precum, and you ached to taste it.

Maybe another time.

Because you were sure there would’ve been another time.

You started to touch the bigger one, beginning from the head and spreading precum all over its length, repeating the process a few times just to tease him. His breath was accelerated, and you felt his cock pulsating in your hands; in the meantime, he was gripping the sheets to restrain himself from touching you. What a pity you had other plans for him.

You stopped your ministrations and you heard him whine, then you helped him remove his underwear. You straddled him, positioning your wet clothed cunt over his cocks, and started to grind on him again.

“You know that we have yet to kiss?” you whispered, “I’ve tasted your blood, touched your cocks, but I have yet to feel your lips on mine.”

You didn’t have to repeat yourself because he hurriedly moved you closer, but he limited himself to just brush your lips with his.

“Do you know what fiends eat?” said Sylus, voice just above a whisper.

“Desire,” you replied and tried to kiss him, but he put a finger between your lips.

“And do you know how we feed?”

“No” you replied, “Is it important to know now? I think we’re pretty…” you ground a little harder on his cocks and his breath hitched, “Occupied. Maybe you can show me instead?” you tried kissing him again, but he stopped you.

“No, I need you to listen to me,” he pressed his forehead to yours and closed his eyes, “Restraining myself is becoming more difficult by the second; you’re so tempting kitten, I can taste your desire in the air.”

“Alright, tell me everything baby,” you replied, foreheads still close together. You then let your hand travel between you two, sliding it across his chest, stomach and then, finally, you reached his cocks and started to give them languid stokes, coaxing him to full hardness. No one was prohibiting you from doing this after all.

Sylus’ speech became breathy, finding it difficult to form full coherent sentences, “Kitten, I need you to know that I feed from every fluid your body releases,” he had to stop and bite his lips, trying to muffle a moan, “sweat, tears, blood, your sweet juices,” he continued as he took your hands and put them on his shoulder, then, he gripped your waist and started to move you over him. You could feel your pussy throbbing in anticipation as you heard his words.

“Kitten,” a moan, “I need you to explicitly say you want me to feed from you,” with one hand he gripped your ass from under your gown and squeezed it hard.

“Then ask me properly my dear,” you said, ever the teaser. It was exhilarating seeing Sylus, the big bad fiend, so desperate for you as you were for him. Now, though, your teasing was getting to you too; your folds were scorching hot, aching to be touched, and your sweet, sweet nectar was gushing out of you in copious amounts. What a pity your lingerie was ruined, it was your favourite pair.

Sylus let out a moan, his grip on your ass so strong you were sure it would leave bruises, “Kitten, let me eat you,” a pause, “I need you.” He opened his eyes, looking into yours, “Can I? Please?” he whined, and that made it for you.

How could you resist such a desperate request?

“Yes Sylus, consume me whole.”

As if hit by a magic spell, he used both his hands to pull you closer into a bruising kiss. One that screamed neediness, with clinking teeth and biting of lips. He then pushed his tongue inside your mouth, finally tasting your saliva, full of your desire.

He let out a moan that you didn’t hesitate to eat up, putting your hands in his long hair and pulling; you felt lightheaded, the arousal so uncontainable that you were starting to feel dizzy, your vision cloudy.

You pulled away from the kiss and he chased your lips, desperate to keep you connected, “Sylus, please, eat me out,” you finally voiced your thoughts in between kisses, “I want to feel your tongue inside me.”

You didn’t have to repeat yourself; he manhandled you into switching positions, now he was the one on top, “Take off your clothes,” he said, “everything.”

His gaze never ceased to admire your body as you did what he told you as quickly as possible, leaving on only your soaked panties for him to savour.

“You’re gorgeous,” Sylus said, mesmerised by your beauty. He opened your legs and put himself in the middle, kissing your neck.

He licked a fat stripe of skin and arrived at your breasts, palming one and kissing the other; your nipples were hardening under his touch, and you pushed your chest against him, seeking more. He put a nipple in his mouth and started to suck it, stopping to nibble and then resuming to lick as he played with the other, tugging and pinching it.

Your moans reverberated through the room, you didn’t know what to do: you were torn between bucking your hips, seeking some sort of friction to ease your aching core, and pushing your chest against his mouth.

Sylus made the decision for you, continuing to go down, kissing his way to your wet pussy. He put your legs over his shoulders and closed his eyes, sliding his nose over your clothed folds, smelling your delicious scent.

Your delicious desire.

“Sylus, please,” you whined, tired of all the teasing. You loved the slow game you two had going on, but now your arousal was so strong you couldn’t think straight, your only thought being filled by him. Tongue, fingers, cocks, anything you could take.

Without replying he licked you over the panties, tasting the juices that wet them, and you let out a moan and bucked your hips, sensing his smirk on your pussy.

“Now who’s the needy one?” said Sylus in a mocking tone, and he moved aside your lingerie, not bothering to take it off.

Finally, finally, he licked you, starting from your hole and arriving at your clit. The aching nub soon found some release as Sylus started to lick and suck it, caressing your folds underneath with his fingers. You were feeling overwhelmed, a lot of sensations going through your body.

You let your hands travel to his hair, trying to tug him away and then push his face against your cunt, unsure of what to do, of what to feel. His tongue was licking up all your sweet ambrosia, playing with your smaller labia and gently sucking on them. He put his hands on the back of your thighs and squeezed, then he lifted you up a bit, circling his tongue around your entrance.

You ached for him to enter you, to savour you from the inside and drink the nectar directly from the source. You were never this desperate during sex, but something about Sylus let all your inhibitions come loose, allowing you to feel everything that you were meant to be feeling. Desire, desperation, love.

Without a warning he entered you with his tongue, and you let out a moan so loud you’d be afraid of waking the neighbours up, if there were any.

He started to tongue fuck you, going in and out, in and out, in and out. The slow drag of his tongue inside your walls was making you impatient so you tried to hurry him by bucking up your hips and pushing his face onto your pussy.

Sylus let out a low growl and pinned your hips to the mattress, keeping you from moving more. He sped up his pace, though, and slurped your cunt like he was starving and you were the only meal he’s had in centuries.

And maybe you were.

The best meal he’s ever had.

While he was still fucking his tongue inside you, with one hand he started to stroke your clit, circling it, tugging it, playing with it. You felt your insides throbbing around his tongue, a telltale of you approaching orgasm.

You were oh so ready to tumble down that precipice, to ride his face and come, but he had other plans. When he sensed your state, he pulled his tongue out and moved away, not without giving your pussy a last stroke with his tongue, though.

You whined at the loss, feeling emptier than ever, “Sylus please,” you whined, “Why did you stop?”

Looking at his face, mouth glistening with your essence and eyes glowing red, you thought you kind of knew the answer.

He looked down and saw you still had your panties on, so he ripped them from your form, throwing them in an unknown part of the bedroom, almost angry at the piece of fabric for covering his sweet prize.

Now satisfied, he opened your legs and put them around his waist, preparing himself to enter you, “I can’t resist anymore kitten,” he breathed out, “I need to feel you around my cock,” he said, and then took your wrists in one hand, positioning them above your head.

You nodded eagerly, “Please Sylus, fuck me,” and just like that he started to push his hard length inside you, positioning his face in the crook of your neck, breathing you in.

You could feel the thickness spreading you open deliciously, the ridges caressing every sensitive part of your insides. You tightened the grip of your thighs on his waist and started to let out moan after moan, the stretch morphing pain into pure bliss.

As he bottomed out, he kissed your neck and then bit down, savouring your desire directly from your blood. You gasped at this, and he started to move, slowly at first but then picking up the pace, still sucking your neck.

The delicious drag of his cock in your walls made you clench around him, as if you were trying to keep him inside, not wanting this feeling of fullness to cease. His dick was really big, but nothing you couldn’t handle, if anything you wanted more, you wanted all of him inside you.

His thrusts were becoming faster, almost shifting you up and down the bed, and his smaller cock slid over your clit with every movement, adding to the pleasure he was giving you.

All these sensations, along with his feeding, made you feel lightheaded, as if he was sucking your very life force, leaving you a quivering mess in his hands.

“Sylus,” you said in a whisper, “you’re consuming me.”

You felt like it was the end. You let this creature feed from you and now it was backfiring, but the thing you were most surprised about was that you didn’t even mind it. Dying like this, in Sylus’ embrace.

He was holding you like you were something to be cherished. To be worshipped. Like you were the most valuable treasure in a fiend’s hoard, and he was taking his time enjoying it. Enjoying you. He stopped his feeding but didn’t move away from your neck, licking the wound he made.

He never stopped thrusting, though. He just slowed down, as if he wanted to listen to you but wasn’t able to fully bring himself to a halt, and you strangely found pride in that. You managed to make a fiend desperate for you.

For your desire.

For your blood

For your flesh.

For you.

Maybe you, too, were a sick and twisted creature like him.

“I feel like,” you let out a gasp, interrupting your speech. He started to caress your sides with the hand not holding your wrists to coax you into talking, and you took a deep breath to steady yourself, “I feel like I’m dying.”

“Oh kitten,” he said, raising his head from your neck. He wiped his mouth and then caressed your face, dirtying it with blood, “you know that, in French, another name for an orgasm is ‘la petite mort’?”

You were a little confused at this, but you were too aroused, your vision too hazy and your mind too cloudy to do anything but shaking your head “no��.

“Do you know what it means?”

You shook your head again.

“It means ‘the little death’.” He licked the blood off your face, steading it with a hand under your chin. “So, let’s die in each other’s arms tonight, my lady” he whispered, and you closed your eyes in bliss as he kissed you. You tasted your blood mixed with his saliva on his tongue and let out a moan. Your flavours mixing together were the most delicious meal you’ve ever had.

He resumed his thrusting, but now it felt more calculated, like he was searching for something–

“Ah!” you moaned out as soon as Sylus hit a precise spot inside you, your eyes rolling in the back of your head, “Do that again.”

“Do what exactly?” he smirked and hit that spot again. And again. And again.

You were a moaning mess, tears starting to spill from your eyes as he fucked you, smudging your make-up.

But this didn’t feel quite enough. You needed more.

“Sylus, please, give me more,” you said, throwing your head back at the pleasure you were feeling.

“Kitten, are you sure?” asked Sylus, face flushed and sweaty, “I’d love to fill you up, but I don’t want to overwhelm you” he whispered, his grip on your wrists never wavering.

“Just do it baby, I need it– ah!” you moaned as he hit that delicious spot inside you. You were already a mess, but the craving for his second cock was too strong to be ignored.

“As my lady commands,” and he pulled out completely.

You whined at the loss, the feeling of emptiness making you clench around nothing.

Sylus let got of your wrists and with one of his hands gripped your waist as the other was wrapped around his dicks, guiding them to your needy hole that was waiting to be filled.

“Hold onto me kitten,” he said, and you wrapped your hands around his neck, preparing yourself for the stretch that was coming.

He slowly entered you with both of his cocks, the smaller one was so wet and slimy that it made the penetration easier. You were gasping and panting in his ear and you knew that this made it difficult for Sylus to stay focused and not bottom out in one go.

In the end, he was just a fiend weak only for two things: desire and you.

“My dear you’re so tight around me,” he breathed out, voice raspy and strained, “I want to fill you up with my seed, see you full of everything I can give you.” You found yourself nodding at his words, desperation clinging into the very fabric of your being.

When he bottomed out you both released a really loud moan; at this point it became impossible to form any coherent thought, the only thing that mattered was that you were full and you needed him to “Move,” you demanded, not even fully knowing you said that. As he did so, you felt his hand press into your stomach and he gasped aloud, “Kitten, look at yourself.”

You looked down and oh my, his cocks were forming a bulge into your stomach. They were reaching impossibly deep inside you, caressing every part you weren’t even aware existed. You observed the movement of his dicks, the constant in and out fully visible and driving you crazy. Your body responded at the sight, copious amounts of slick gushing out of you and sliding onto the mattress.

“Kitten, I don’t think I’ll last long,” he said. His chest heaved with every breath, his thrusts becoming erratic and less calculated than before; his orgasm was approaching and yours was too.

The ridges of his bigger cock massaged your walls as the smaller one filled you with pre-cum and a slimy substance that acted as lubricant; you couldn’t do anything but throw your head back and moan, clenching in time with his thrusts as you were nearing the edge, pleasure consuming you like a fire.

Seeing you in this state, he took a hand to your clit and started to caress it, trying to make you come for him with him.

One hard and precise thrust, combined with his hand on your aching nub, made you topple, your orgasm hitting you like a train as you moaned a string of “Sylus, Sylus, Sylus!”, your insides milking his cocks as he continued to move, searching his own release all flushed and needy, craving that sweet, sweet sensation.

“Please my dear,” you said crying, tears of overstimulation filling your eyes and streaming down your face, “Fill me up,” you finally shouted.

You heard him curse and felt something catch in your hole, trying to enter, “What is–”

“It’s my knot,” he hurriedly replied, “Please kitten let me knot you,” he pleaded, kissing and licking your neck, “Please please please–”

You eagerly nodded and just like that, as if he was restraining himself and was waiting for your command, you felt hot liquid paint your insides, filling you so deliciously you were about to pass out. One last thrust made his knot enter you, locking you together.

He almost collapsed onto you but was quick enough to embrace you spent form and swap your positions, making you lay on top of him, head on his sweaty chest. Sylus’ heart was beating so fast you feared it was going to burst out, his breath still laboured but less than before.

You both laid there in silence, trying to recover from your orgasms. Tender caresses were shared, kisses were given and fucked-out smiles were hidden.

After he came down from his high, he took your chin and made you look at him, making sure not to move you too much since you were still locked by his knot.

“You know, now that I’ve had a taste,” he kissed your nose, “I don’t think can live without you.”

He caressed your face tenderly, touch as light as a feather. As he observed your features, his crimson eyes were filled with something so close to love that you couldn’t find any other word to describe it.

It made you feel warm.

It made you feel so, so happy knowing that someone in this godforsaken world cared for you.

“No baby,” you said, tracing his lips with your index, basking in the coziness of the moment, “It is me that can’t live without you.” You shared a chaste kiss with him, one that meant “I’m here to cherish you”.

Sylus at first smiled tenderly, a soft gesture that seemed so unusual in his fiendish features. Then he smirked and moved a hand down, gripping your buttock, “Is that so?”

You smiled amused and kissed him again, “I can sense you have something in your mind.”

“I was about to ask you if this feat was enough,” he said as he playfully slapped your asscheek, making you gasp.

“Enough for what?” you asked, confused.

“For me to be worthy of knowing your name.”

You let out a laugh, a genuine one. You almost forgot that he still didn’t know your name.

It was so strange.

Knowing next to nothing of a person yet feeling so strongly about them. People could call this love at first sight, but you both knew it was more than that. What you two shared was an unbreakable bond, one ebbed into every fibre of your bodies, one written in your souls, forever entwined with each other. It was built on desire and need and everything present in this universe.

It was nothing and it was everything at the same time.

You looked softly in his eyes and caressed his chest, then said, “You are right Mister Sylus, my name is– ”

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── ❦・⸝⸝ author's note: surprise!! sylus was a fiend and was hunting her too, what a delicious turn of events. obv now that makes sense why I explained how people turn vampires, since mc feeds from sylus and he doesn’t turn or has any reaction.

i really hope you liked it, this fic is literally my magnum opus and i’m so fond of it, so kudos and comments are very appreciated ♡

p.s.: you can find me on twitter @tenderbeck where i post lads related stuff!! love you all