#and that's how I settled on werewolves

[mbat]

its not really a new thing for me to say that i kinda hate the whole 'werewolf pack' kinda thing for a few reasons, but i dont like, entirely hate it yknow

like my main thing is i like characters having a sortve isolated angsty ass time(i wonder why /s), and werewolves are great for angst! so putting the two together is like. oh hell yes. but thats just a me thing

but also for some reason almost every depiction ive seen of werewolves and werewolf packs has been like... 'their nature/instincts/whatever makes this happen' like, they cant resist it because its something theyre basically forced to do by their biology. ive seen it be blood families, ive seen it be random people who just met and theyre basically bound by the universe i guess, blah blah blah

and idk, i hate that. of course, almost everyone and almost every species has it in their nature to be social and need connection, but its not portrayed like that in these cases. its portrayed more like theyll basically die if they for whatever reason reject it or something, and that their loyalty is their entire life or whatever. idk, its hard to describe.

i think its kinda obvious that im leading this up to found family. who doesnt love found family? who doesnt love when people and characters choose the people that they want to spend their lives with, whether blood is involved or not.

and theres no instinct part of it for me, its just people who want/need support from others, and they find people they love, and you could call it a pack but i just personally wouldnt. its just like any other relationship tbh, but its obv cuter as a group :p

and if it happens to be other werewolves, or other monsters, or even just humans... thats their people that they chose.

[unknownadvisor]

first af revenge of the season and im proud to say its an attack on @starknitsweater !!

bonus fish thumbnail <3

the border in the uploaded attack was made by one of my friends :D

[keeps-ache]

brother's like 'i don't know how you can have sugar so early in the morning' when i go to get my sweet tea... we used to have birthday cake for breakfast..... this is alright :)

[rockfact]

thinking so hard abt jesper rn (oc)

[elikajinnie]

You Taste So Sweet - P.S

P: Vampire!Sunghoon X Fem!Reader (16+)

Warnings: Blood, Blood Drinking, Teasing, Slight Stalking, Suggestive Content, Fated Lovers, Ambigious Ending, Predator/Prey.

Wordcount: 16,6k

Synopsis: A camping trip turns into a nightmare when a dare leads you to a vampire's castle. Instead of death, you find an alluring vampire who desires your heart and soul. As his obsession grows, you realize escaping his grasp may be impossible because he wants you more than anything.

a/n: as a kid.. i remember having a mega crush on the 3 vampire wives from Van Helsing :D but anyways, so i got some of the vampire ability ideas from @ yjskat on TikTok :) So credits to them! i also did alot of research for these themes :)

੭﹕ ̊ ̟ ꒷꒦

Ever since you were young, you were captivated by stories of mythical creatures—centaurs galloping across ancient forests, sirens luring sailors to their doom, vampires lurking in the shadows, and werewolves howling at the full moon. But as fascinating as these tales were, you never believed them. Why would they exist in the real world, especially now, in an age of science and reason?

Maybe that’s why you found yourself standing in front of a hundred-year-old castle deep in the woods. It had started innocently enough—just a weekend camping trip with some friends, far away from civilization and the distractions of the internet. After the sun had long ago dipped below the horizon, leaving the sky a blanket of darkness, you had all gathered around the campfire, pulling out flashlights to illuminate your faces in the flickering glow.

The night began with laughter and harmless stories, but somehow, things had taken a turn. One of your friends had brought up a legend—a vampire said to live in a castle not far from where you had set up camp. At first, you scoffed. Vampires? In this day and age? No way.

That’s when the dare came up. Prove it. Spend the night in the castle, and if you came back in the morning with nothing to show but a few laughs, they'd drop it. You, stubborn as always, accepted without a second thought. How bad could it be?

But now, as you stood before the towering, ancient structure, its stone walls covered in moss and shadows that seemed to shift and breathe in the moonlight, the weight of your decision settled in. The castle loomed above you, its dark, jagged spires reaching into the starless sky. For a moment, you swore the whole place was alive, like the stone itself was moving beneath your feet, pulsing with something ancient.

The wind whispered through the skeletal branches of trees surrounding the castle, and the heavy iron gates creaked eerily in front of you, almost as if they were beckoning you in. You laughed nervously, trying to brush off the unsettling feeling creeping up your spine.

“There’s nothing here,” you muttered, tugging the strap of your bag tighter across your shoulder as if it could shield you from the growing unease. The gate groaned as you squeezed through the narrow opening, and with a deep breath, you started up the path toward the castle. Each step felt heavier than the last, and you couldn’t help but glance up at the looming structure. It was completely dark inside, not a single flicker of light behind the cracked, weathered windows.

You sighed, trying to shake off the creeping dread. Of course, it’s dark. No one’s lived here for ages. You were about to convince yourself of that when a sudden rustling beside you caught your attention. Instinctively, you whipped your flashlight toward the sound, heart pounding. A black raven sat perched in a twisted tree, its beady eyes fixed on you. For a moment, neither of you moved, staring each other down in the silent night. Then, with a sharp caw, it spread its wings and soared toward the castle, disappearing into the darkness above.

You swallowed hard, shaking your head. “It’s fine, it’s fine,” you muttered under your breath, trying to ignore the way your pulse was racing. Forcing yourself to keep moving, you continued up the path, the shadow of the castle growing larger with each step.

The gravel crunched beneath your boots as you approached the heavy oak doors of the castle. The flashlight beam trembled slightly in your hand, casting long, jagged shadows on the stone. You paused in front of the entrance, staring up at the intricately carved door. The wood was ancient, worn down by centuries of wind and rain, yet still sturdy, almost intimidating.

You hesitated. Behind you, the forest was eerily silent, save for the distant rustling of leaves and the occasional hoot of an owl. It was as if the woods were holding their breath, waiting for you to make a move.

Steeling yourself, you reached out and placed your hand on the cold metal handle. The touch sent a shiver down your spine, but you ignored it, forcing yourself to push the door open with a loud creak that echoed through the empty halls inside.

The air inside was thick and musty, the scent of dust and decay hitting you as soon as you stepped over the threshold. You swept the flashlight across the entrance hall, revealing towering pillars and grand, faded tapestries hanging from the walls. Cobwebs clung to the ceiling, and the floor was littered with debris—remnants of a place long forgotten.

You sighed again, this time in a mix of relief and unease. There was no sign of anything unusual. No vampires, no strange noises, nothing that would suggest the castle was anything more than an abandoned relic. “See? Nothing to worry about,” you whispered, your voice barely audible in the vast, empty space.

But just as you were about to take another step, a loud thud echoed from somewhere deep within the castle. You froze, heart leaping into your throat as the sound reverberated through the halls. Your flashlight flickered for a second, casting the shadows into an eerie dance.

“It’s fine,” you whispered again, but this time, the words felt hollow. You weren’t so sure anymore.

You exhaled slowly, trying to steady your nerves. “It’s fine,” you muttered once more, as if saying it enough times would make it true. Deciding to set up camp before your imagination got the better of you, you unrolled your sleeping bag by the entrance. The cold stone floor sent a chill through your body as you knelt down, but you forced yourself to ignore it. After making sure your bag was securely in place, you sat back for a moment, listening to the unsettling quiet.

The idea of staying right by the door for the night was reassuring—at least you could make a quick escape if anything went wrong. But despite that small comfort, your curiosity gnawed at you. The castle felt… alive, in a way. You had already come this far, and the stories your friends had told around the campfire echoed in your mind, tempting you to explore further.

Grabbing your flashlight, you stood up, feeling an odd mixture of excitement and dread. You hadn’t come here just to sleep by the entrance. If you were going to prove there was nothing lurking in the dark, you had to see the castle for yourself. Maybe then you could return to camp in the morning and laugh it off with everyone else.

The long corridor ahead of you beckoned, its darkened arches seeming to stretch into the unknown. Your footsteps echoed against the stone as you cautiously made your way deeper into the castle. The air grew colder the further you went, as if the walls themselves were closing in around you.

The place was clearly abandoned, but it felt like you weren’t alone. You couldn’t shake the feeling that something—or someone—was watching you from the shadows.

Suddenly, you heard it again. Thud.

This time, it was louder, more distinct. It sounded like something heavy had fallen, or perhaps… something had been moved. Your breath caught in your throat as you turned in the direction of the noise, the beam of your flashlight trembling slightly.

“Hello?” you called out, immediately regretting it as your voice echoed down the hall.

There was no response, but the silence that followed felt different. Heavier.

Against your better judgment, you followed the sound, each step you took feeling like it carried you further into the unknown. At the end of the hall, there was a massive door, partially ajar. You approached cautiously, your hand hovering over the handle.

With a deep breath, you pushed the door open. It creaked loudly, revealing a grand staircase that spiraled upward into darkness. You hesitated, glancing back toward the entrance where your sleeping bag was waiting for you. For a moment, you considered turning back.

But something urged you on.

With the flashlight held tightly in your hand, you started up the stairs, each step amplifying the growing sense that something was lurking just out of sight.

You ascended the staircase slowly, each creaky step echoing louder than the last in the oppressive silence. The air grew colder with each step, and the darkness seemed to press in closer. Your flashlight’s beam flickered slightly, but you shook it, willing it to hold steady. As you neared the top of the stairs, a large, ornate doorway came into view, framed by heavy wooden doors that looked far sturdier than the ones downstairs. Unlike the rest of the castle, these doors seemed well-maintained, almost as if they were still in use.

With a deep breath, you reached out and pushed one of the doors open. It groaned loudly on its hinges, revealing what lay beyond: a grand ballroom. You stepped through the doorway, your breath catching in your throat.

The room was vast, with high ceilings and enormous windows draped with thick, faded curtains. A massive chandelier, still glittering despite its age, hung from the ceiling, casting a faint, ghostly glimmer as your flashlight passed over it. The floor beneath you was a dark, polished wood, still gleaming faintly despite the passage of time. The room, though worn, was far better kept than anything you had seen downstairs.

You scanned the room, taking in the details. Dust hung in the air, swirling in the faint beam of your flashlight, but the place didn’t feel abandoned like the lower levels had. The tattered tapestries and cracked pillars of the lower halls were replaced here by careful preservation. It was as if something—or someone—had been taking care of this part of the castle, long after the rest had been forgotten.

The eerie stillness of the ballroom weighed heavy on your shoulders. The faint echo of your footsteps on the wooden floor was the only sound. You swept the light across the room again, lingering on a grand piano in the far corner, its glossy surface free of dust. It looked as though it had been played recently, the lid slightly ajar, exposing the strings inside.

Your heart pounded in your chest, every instinct telling you this was wrong. It wasn’t just that the room was better kept than the rest of the castle—it was the strange, unshakable feeling that this place was waiting for something. Or someone.

You took a step closer to the center of the ballroom, glancing around nervously. Your footsteps were soft on the polished floor, but they felt impossibly loud in the quiet space. The air here felt heavier, as though something unseen lingered just beyond your sight.

Suddenly, you froze. From the far end of the ballroom, you heard it—a soft, almost imperceptible whisper that sent chills racing down your spine.

Your heart raced as you slowly turned toward the direction of the whisper. Raising your flashlight, you shone the beam across the far end of the ballroom. The light cut through the shadows, revealing nothing but the empty space where the sound had come from. No one was there. Just the eerie silence of the room, thick and suffocating.

You swallowed hard, trying to steady your breath, and called out, “Is anyone there?”

Your voice echoed back to you, bouncing off the high ceilings and polished floors, but there was no answer—only the hollow repetition of your own words. The stillness that followed made your skin prickle with unease.

Your grip on the flashlight tightened as you glanced around, feeling more disoriented by the second. Something was off. You knew it, but the logical part of your mind still clung to the idea that this was just an old, empty castle.

Then, you noticed something—a faint swishing sound, like fabric being stirred by a gentle breeze. You aimed your flashlight upwards and saw the source: a large window on the far wall, slightly ajar. The curtains, heavy and dark, shifted ever so slightly in the draft that crept in from the outside. The wind was toying with the edges of the fabric, making them sway back and forth like the room was breathing along with you.

You exhaled in relief, telling yourself that it was just the wind. That had to be it. The strange noises, the whisper—maybe it was just your nerves getting the better of you in this unsettling place.

But as the wind swirled through the crack in the window, the cold air carried something else with it—a faint, distant melody, barely audible. It sounded like music, haunting and old, drifting through the night like a ghostly remnant of something long past.

Your heart skipped a beat.

You shook your head, trying to shake off the creeping unease that had settled in your chest. It’s just the wind, you told yourself. An old building. No need to overthink it. The ballroom was strange, yes, but it felt safer than the decaying entrance hall you had set up camp in.

With one last glance at the open window, you turned and hurried back down the winding staircase. Each step felt faster as you tried to distance yourself from the unsettling whispers and sounds that still seemed to linger in the air. When you reached the entrance hall, you wasted no time gathering your things—your sleeping bag, snacks, and whatever else you had left behind.

As you packed up, the hard, cold stone beneath you was a stark reminder of how uncomfortable the night would be if you stayed here. The ballroom, despite its eerie atmosphere, at least had a smooth, polished floor that was far more inviting than the uneven stone slabs below. You figured you’d be able to sleep easier in a room that wasn’t as decrepit.

With your belongings secured, you made your way back up to the ballroom. The staircase creaked beneath your feet, but you ignored it this time, focused on the task at hand. When you reached the top and stepped back into the vast ballroom, the cool breeze from the window greeted you again, but it was gentler now, as if the castle had grown quiet in your absence.

You unrolled your sleeping bag in the center of the room, right under the chandelier. The polished wooden floor, though still cold, was a welcome change from the rough stone. After settling everything in place, you stood for a moment, staring around the ballroom. The eerie whispers were gone, and the faint melody you thought you had heard earlier was nowhere to be found.

You exhaled a long breath, trying to let go of the tension still gripping you. “It’s fine,” you said again, your voice soft in the stillness. The ballroom’s grandeur, though worn, had a strange comfort to it now, and maybe—just maybe—you could get some sleep here.

You sat in your sleeping bag for what felt like hours, though in reality, it had only been a short while. The ballroom was eerily quiet now, with nothing but the faint rustling of the wind from the slightly open window to break the silence. The air was still cold, but the polished floor was more comfortable than the hard stone downstairs.

Your flashlight sat beside you, its beam pointed toward the ceiling, casting soft shadows that swayed gently with the breeze. You kept glancing around the room, your eyes following the flickers of light, trying to shake the lingering feeling that something was watching you. But there was nothing. Just the grand, worn-down ballroom and the sound of your own breathing.

You pulled the sleeping bag tighter around your body, trying to warm yourself as the chill of the castle seeped in. The massive chandelier above you swayed ever so slightly, but you told yourself it was just from the draft coming in through the window. Your mind wandered back to your friends, probably huddled around the campfire, laughing at the ridiculous dare they’d set for you. It felt absurd now, sitting here alone in this massive, decaying castle, waiting for morning to come.

Finally, you decided it was time to get some sleep. There was no point in staying awake any longer, especially when nothing strange had happened since you’d returned to the ballroom. You took one last look around, reassuring yourself that everything was as it should be.

Lying down, you turned onto your side, pulling the hood of your jacket over your head as you curled up inside the sleeping bag. The quiet of the castle pressed in on you, the faint sound of the wind outside barely audible now. Your eyes fluttered shut, exhaustion from the long day finally catching up with you.

Eventually, sleep claimed you. The eerie stillness of the castle, once so unnerving, faded into the background as exhaustion took over. Wrapped tightly in your sleeping bag, you drifted into a restless slumber, your mind retreating from the strange surroundings.

But even in your sleep, something felt… off.

A faint sensation brushed against your cheek, gentle and cold, like the touch of a feather or a breeze. You hummed softly, stirring in your sleep. Your brow furrowed, and you shifted, turning onto your other side as if trying to escape the odd feeling. But the sensation returned, more insistent this time. The caress was cool and deliberate, like someone was carefully tracing the curve of your cheek.

You tossed slightly, murmuring, your body reacting to the touch but your mind too deep in the fog of sleep to fully register it. The sensation lingered, delicate yet persistent, as though whoever or whatever was responsible was toying with you, watching your every reaction.

You turned again, your breathing quickening in your sleep as the cold touch remained against your skin. Unbeknownst to you, a shadow loomed over your sleeping form, standing impossibly still. Gleaming eyes observed you with an unsettling intensity, the figure’s presence unseen but undeniably there.

And still, you slept—unaware of the watcher that hovered in the darkness above you.

੭﹕ ̊ ̟ ꒷꒦

You slowly woke to the soft glow of sunlight streaming through the cracks in the curtains, illuminating the dust particles dancing in the air. The gentle warmth coaxed you out of your sleep, and you blinked a few times, trying to shake off the remnants of dreams that felt oddly vivid.

For a moment, you lay still, the events of the previous night rushing back to you. You remembered the whispers, the caress against your cheek, and the feeling of being watched. But as you glanced around the grand ballroom, the memories felt more like fleeting shadows than genuine threats. Everything appeared normal—the chandelier sparkled in the morning light, and the polished floor was still eerily silent.

With a sigh, you pushed yourself up and stretched, feeling the stiffness in your muscles from sleeping on the floor. After a quick glance around, you began to pack your belongings. You rolled up your sleeping bag and made sure you hadn’t left anything behind. It felt good to have made it through the night, and you were relieved that the castle hadn’t consumed you in the darkness.

Once you were ready, you retraced your steps back down the winding staircase, the air warmer as you stepped out into the sunlight. The forest greeted you with chirping birds and rustling leaves, and you couldn’t help but smile at the beauty of the morning.

The campsite wasn’t far from the castle, and as you approached, you could see your friends gathered around, still bright and cheerful. They looked up when they saw you, a mix of curiosity and excitement on their faces.

“How was it?” Yuna called out, her eyes sparkling with anticipation.

You shrugged, trying to downplay your experience. “It was easy. Just an old, empty castle.” You didn’t want to admit the odd feelings you’d had or the strange sensations from the night before.

But your nonchalance only fueled their interest. “Come on! You can’t just leave us hanging like that!” Wooyoung chimed in, leaning forward with a grin. “We all want to see it now. Let’s go explore it together!”

Your stomach dropped a little at the thought, but your friends' enthusiasm was infectious. They began to gather their things, excitedly chattering about what they might find. You hesitated, glancing back toward the castle.

Still, you couldn’t let fear dictate your day. “Alright, let’s go,” you said, forcing a smile. After all, it was just a castle—nothing you hadn’t survived the night before.

As you set off toward the castle again, your heart raced with both apprehension and excitement. Maybe exploring with your friends would be a different experience entirely. After all, safety in numbers, right?

As you and your friends entered the castle once more, the atmosphere felt different with the warmth of the morning sun streaming through the windows. The grand ballroom was just as you had left it, a stunning sight in the daylight, with dust particles dancing in the rays of light.

“Wow, this place is amazing!” Wooyoung exclaimed, stepping into the ballroom and spinning around as if he were the star of a grand performance. “Imagine having a party here!”

You couldn’t help but smile at his enthusiasm, and the others soon joined him, their excitement palpable. Ji-Sun and Jiwon began to inspect the piano in the corner, while Mackiah wandered over to the chandelier, eyeing the outlines of the crystal fixtures with wonder.

“Okay, where to next?” Wonbin asked, looking around. “We should check out that staircase.”

The grand staircase spiraled upward, and with eager agreement, the group moved toward it.

As you ascended the staircase, you noticed the details of the castle more keenly—the intricate carvings on the banisters and the faded portraits hanging on the walls, their subjects gazing down at you with expressions both regal and haunting. At the top, a balcony overlooked the ballroom, and the view was breathtaking.

“Look at this!” Jiwon exclaimed, leaning over the edge. “Can you imagine the parties they must have had here?”

“It must’ve been incredible,” you replied, peering down at the empty space below, which now felt less intimidating in the light of day.

From there, you and your friends explored the various hallways branching off from the balcony, each leading to old rooms that seemed frozen in time. The doors creaked as you pushed them open, revealing dusty bedrooms, a library filled with crumbling books, and a dining room where the remains of an old banquet still lingered in the air.

“This is wild,” Ji-Sun said as she flipped through the pages of a weathered book, its title long faded. “I can’t believe this place hasn’t collapsed yet!”

Your friends moved through the rooms, each one filled with awe and curiosity. You found yourself drawn to a small alcove with an old tapestry depicting a grand feast, the colors faded but still vibrant in their depiction of revelry. It was a stark contrast to the silence of the castle now.

But as you all continued your exploration, you were oblivious to the dark figure that had followed you. A black raven lingered just outside, its beady eyes watching your every move with an unsettling intensity. It cawed softly, as if keeping watch over the group as you wandered deeper into the castle.

“Hey, check this out!” Wooyoung called from a room at the end of the hall, his voice echoing off the walls. “I think I found a secret passage!”

You turned to see him gesturing excitedly toward a hidden door cleverly concealed by a heavy curtain. The thrill of discovery sparked a rush of adrenaline within you, pulling you closer to the group. As you approached, the raven flapped its wings, disappearing into the shadows of the castle.

“What do you think is behind it?” Mackiah asked, peering over Wooyoung’s shoulder.

“Only one way to find out!” Ji-Sun said, stepping forward with a bold grin.

The group gathered around, anticipation buzzing in the air as Wooyoung pulled back the curtain, revealing the door.

With a deep breath, Wooyoung grasped the handle of the concealed door and pulled it open. It creaked ominously, the sound reverberating through the stillness of the hallway. The group leaned in closer, peering into the dimly lit passage that lay beyond. A cool breeze wafted out, carrying with it the faint scent of must and something else—something earthy.

“Are you sure about this?” you asked, glancing at your friends. The thrill of adventure coursed through you, but the shadows lurking just beyond the door felt unnervingly alive.

“Come on, it’ll be fun!” Ji-Sun encouraged, her eyes gleaming with excitement. “What’s the worst that could happen?”

Mackiah and Wonbin exchanged amused glances, clearly eager to explore. “Besides,” Wonbin added, “if it’s just a storage room or something, we can always turn back.”

After a brief moment of hesitation, you nodded, curiosity overtaking your apprehension. The group stepped forward, with Wooyoung leading the way into the passage. You followed closely behind, your heart racing with a mix of excitement and trepidation.

The narrow hallway was dark, with only the flickering beam of your flashlight cutting through the gloom. The walls were lined with ancient stone, and cobwebs hung from the ceiling like delicate lace. You could hear the distant sound of your friends’ footsteps echoing off the walls as they ventured further in.

“Whoa, look at this!” Ji-Sun’s voice echoed back to you, her tone a mixture of awe and disbelief. You hurried to catch up, your flashlight illuminating the space ahead.

You emerged into a larger chamber, and gasps of wonder filled the air. The room was vast, its ceiling arching high above, supported by sturdy stone columns that reached toward the dark ceiling. At the center stood a large, circular table, surrounded by mismatched chairs that looked like they hadn’t been touched in decades. Dust motes danced in the light as you stepped closer.

“This must be where they held meetings or something,” Jiwon mused, brushing her fingers along the table’s surface, revealing intricate carvings underneath the layer of dust.

“Or maybe it was a secret gathering place,” you suggested, the idea thrilling you. “Like for a hidden society or something.”

As you explored the room, you noticed an old fireplace along one wall, its mantel adorned with faded photographs in gilded frames.

“Hey, look at these!” Wonbin called from the fireplace, his voice drawing you over. “These people look kind of… creepy.”

You approached and squinted at the photographs. Indeed, the faces of those in the images seemed to have an unsettling intensity, their gazes almost following you as you moved. You felt a shiver run down your spine, but you shook it off.

“Just old pictures,” you said, attempting to sound more confident than you felt.

Suddenly, from the corner of your eye, you spotted movement. You turned, instinctively pointing your flashlight toward the shadows, but saw nothing. Your heart raced, and you glanced back at your friends, who were all engrossed in their own discoveries.

“Did anyone else see that?” you asked, your voice slightly shaky.

Your question was met with puzzled looks. “See what?” Ji-Sun replied, frowning.

“Never mind,” you said, trying to brush it off. The shadows danced just out of your flashlight's reach, but there was something about the air that felt charged, as if it held secrets waiting to be uncovered.

As the group continued to explore the room, a sudden rustle echoed from the passage you had entered. Everyone froze, their heads snapping toward the source of the sound. A cold breeze swept through the chamber, carrying the faintest whisper, barely audible, yet distinct—like a voice calling from the depths of time.

“What was that?” Jiwon whispered, her eyes wide with apprehension.

Your heart thudded in your chest as you turned your flashlight toward the entrance. The shadows shifted, and you felt an inexplicable urge to flee the room, a instinct clawing at you from deep within. But you also felt a strange compulsion to stay.

You took a deep breath, ready to voice your concerns, when suddenly, the whispering grew louder—a chorus of hushed tones that seemed to echo from all around you, sending chills racing down your spine.

You glanced at your friends, who were all looking back at you with wide eyes, clearly feeling the same unsettling energy.

“Guys… I think we should leave,” you finally said, your voice barely above a whisper.

But before anyone could respond, a loud thud resonated from the passage behind you, sending everyone jumping back. The tension in the air became palpable, and you could feel the fear rising among the group.

“What was that?!” Wooyoung exclaimed, his bravado fading.

“I don’t know, but I think we should get out of here,” you urged, your heart racing.

Just as you all turned to make your escape, a sharp hissing sound sliced through the air, causing you to freeze in your tracks. The noise reverberated in the cavernous room, echoing ominously off the stone walls.

“What was that?!” Wonbin asked, his voice laced with anxiety.

You all instinctively looked up, and the sight that met your eyes made your blood run cold. A mass of bats hung from the ceiling, their wings folded tightly against their bodies, and their yellow eyes glimmered in the dim light like tiny lanterns. They swayed slightly in the draft, their presence looming like a dark cloud overhead.

“Oh man, this is not good,” Mackiah whispered, taking a step back.

The hissing intensified, a cacophony of flutters and screeches that sent a wave of panic through the group. The bats began to stir, their wings rustling as they seemed to sense the movement below.

“Do you think they’re… friendly?” Ji-Sun ventured, though her tone was far from convincing.

You shook your head, feeling a knot tighten in your stomach. “I don’t think we should stick around to find out.”

As if sensing your fear, the bats suddenly took flight, swirling around in a chaotic flurry. Their wings created a thunderous sound that filled the chamber, making it hard to think or hear. In a panic, your friends began to scatter, trying to find a way out of the room.

“Run!” you shouted, urging everyone to move.

You bolted toward the exit, your heart pounding in your chest as the bats whirled around you. The sheer force of their wings felt like a gust of wind, pushing against you. You could hear your friends behind you, their shouts mingling with the chaotic cacophony of fluttering wings.

You dashed through the doorway, stumbling slightly as you exited the large chamber, and you could feel the cool air of the hallway hitting your face. It was quieter here, but you could still hear the flapping of wings echoing behind you.

“Keep moving!” Ji-Won yelled as she caught up to you, her eyes wide with fear.

You all sprinted down the hallway, adrenaline coursing through your veins. The hissing had faded to a distant memory, but the shadows felt alive, pulsating as you dashed past them.

“Where do we go?” Jiwon panted, glancing nervously over her shoulder.

“Back to the ballroom!” you suggested, hoping it was the safest place.

You veered toward the grand ballroom, bursting through the doors, you skidded to a halt, panting heavily.

“Is everyone here?” you gasped, quickly counting heads.

“Yeah, but what was that?” Wonbin asked, trying to catch his breath.

“I don’t know, but those bats… it felt like they were warning us or something,” you replied, glancing back at the door as if expecting the creatures to follow.

“They were creepy!” Ji-Sun exclaimed, her voice shaky. “We need to get out of here before something worse happens!”

You nodded in agreement, and the group gathered together, looking around for a way to leave the castle behind. The sunlight streaming through the ballroom windows was comforting, but the thought of returning to the depths of the castle sent chills down your spine.

“Let’s head back outside,” you suggested, moving toward the grand entrance.

As you approached the massive doors, you couldn’t shake the feeling that something was still watching you from the shadows. You paused, glancing back toward the hallway, half-expecting to see anything, but there was nothing.

“Are we all ready?” you asked, your voice steady despite the anxiety thrumming beneath the surface.

With a series of nods, you pushed open the heavy doors, and the bright light flooded in, illuminating the worn stone path ahead. Stepping outside felt like stepping back into reality, and the cool breeze was a welcome relief.

“Let’s get back to camp and enjoy the rest of the day,” you said, trying to lighten the mood. “No more creepy castles for now.”

With a collective sigh of relief, the group started to make their way back, the tension from the bats and shadows slowly fading as laughter and chatter resumed.

The rest of the day passed in a blur of lightheartedness, a stark contrast to the unsettling events of the morning. Once you all returned to camp, the tension eased with every hour spent lounging in the sun, telling jokes, and sharing snacks around the firepit. The eerie weight of the castle seemed to vanish in the daylight, and by mid-afternoon, the memory of the bats and the cold whispers in the shadows felt more like a strange dream.

Wooyoung and Mackiah led the charge in cooking a hearty dinner—grilled meat and vegetables wrapped in foil, while Ji-Sun and Jiwon worked on creating s'mores, laughing over burnt marshmallows and chocolate smeared on their faces.

Yuna sitting by you leaned back on her elbows, gazing up at the sky as it began to change hues from bright blue to shades of orange and pink.

“This is perfect,” she sighed. You only nodded in agreement.

By the time night fell, everyone was pleasantly tired. The campfire crackled as the flames danced, illuminating the circle of your friends' faces with a soft glow. You wrapped yourself in your blanket, the chill of the night air seeping in but held at bay by the fire's warmth.

“Well, I think that was enough adventure for one trip,” Wooyoung said with a yawn, stretching his arms overhead.

“Yeah, no more creepy castles for me,” Jiwon added, rubbing her arms as if she could still feel the cold draft of the castle's hallways.

As the conversation lulled, the stars appeared one by one in the clear sky above. Exhaustion from the day's excitement began to settle over everyone, and soon enough, one by one, your friends slipped off to their tents.

You watched the fire die down, the embers glowing faintly as the world around you grew quiet. The rustling of the wind in the trees and the soft chirping of distant crickets became the only sounds. After a few moments, you finally stood up, feeling the weight of sleep tugging at you as well.

“Time for bed,” you whispered to yourself, pulling your blanket tighter around your shoulders as you headed toward your tent.

Once inside, you unrolled your sleeping bag, the familiar scent of the forest around you somehow comforting. You glanced around, hearing the faint movements of your friends as they, too, settled in for the night.

Lying down, you shifted into a comfortable position, letting the soothing sounds of the forest wash over you. Your eyes grew heavy as you listened to the distant hooting of an owl, its call echoing through the trees. The peace of the camp surrounded you, and with a long sigh, you allowed yourself to drift into sleep.

But as you slipped further into unconsciousness, a cold breeze seemed to sweep through the tent, the kind of chill that felt familiar, like the air inside the castle. You stirred slightly, but exhaustion kept you from fully waking. Somewhere in the back of your mind, a flicker of unease crept in, as if something had followed you back from the castle—something unseen, waiting in the shadows.

Yet you didn't open your eyes.

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You woke with a start, your breath coming in quick, shallow gasps. The sensation of soft, velvet sheets beneath your fingers sent a surge of confusion through you. This wasn’t your tent. This wasn’t the camp.

Sitting up quickly, you glanced around the room, your heart pounding as you took in your surroundings. The room was grand—far too grand. The bed you sat on was enormous, draped in luxurious fabrics with dark, ornate wood framing it. Heavy curtains hung at the tall windows, blocking out all light except for a faint glow filtering through the gaps.

No. No, no, no, your mind screamed.

You were back in the castle.

“How…?” you muttered to yourself, throwing the covers off as you stood, your legs shaking slightly as they hit the cold stone floor. You tried to recall how you got here, but your memory was a blur. The last thing you remembered was falling asleep at the campsite. You had been with your friends, safe beneath the stars.

“What’s going on?” you whispered, your voice echoing in the oppressive silence.

You hurried to the door, your pulse racing as you grabbed the handle and pulled it open. The hallway beyond stretched endlessly, lit only by the faintest light from flickering wall sconces. You stepped out, the cold draft brushing past you, making you shiver.

Each step echoed in the stillness as you walked through the corridor, your footsteps hesitant but driven by a gnawing urgency to understand what was happening. The castle felt different now—more alive, more… aware. The hairs on the back of your neck stood on end as though you were being watched.

Then, as you rounded a corner, a sound drifted toward you—soft, haunting, and unmistakable.

A piano.

Your heart skipped a beat as you recognized the melody. It was faint, almost like a whisper carried by the wind, but it was there. A sad, melancholic tune that tugged at your soul. The same piano that stood in the ballroom.

You swallowed hard, feeling an icy chill settle over you. The ballroom. The same room where you and your friends had explored earlier, where you had seen the bats and felt the castle's lingering presence.

The sound grew louder as you followed it, your body moving almost of its own accord as you passed through familiar hallways, each one more ominous than the last, until you reached the massive double doors of the ballroom.

The haunting melody played on, drawing you closer.

Taking a deep breath, you pushed the door open, the creak of the hinges echoing through the cavernous room. Inside, the ballroom was just as you remembered, but something was different. The light was dim, casting long shadows across the floor, and in the center of the room, sitting at the grand piano, was a figure.

They were cloaked in darkness, their form barely visible in the faint light, but their hands moved gracefully over the keys, producing the haunting melody that had lured you here.

You took a step forward, your breath catching in your throat as you spoke, your voice shaky. “Hello?”

The figure didn’t respond, continuing to play as though unaware of your presence. The melody swirled around you, tugging at something deep inside, making your chest tighten with an inexplicable sorrow.

Your feet moved on their own, carrying you closer until you stood at the edge of the ballroom floor, the soft glow of candlelight casting flickering shadows over the room. The figure finally stopped playing, their hands resting on the keys.

In the silence that followed, you felt the weight of their gaze, though you couldn’t see their face clearly.

“Why… why am I here?” you asked, your voice barely above a whisper, but the question hung in the air like a plea.

The figure slowly rose from the bench, the shadows clinging to them like a second skin. Then the figure turned slowly toward you, stepping fully into the faint light, and you froze in place, caught off guard by the sheer intensity of his presence. He was tall, much taller than you had imagined, his long black cloak accentuating his height and flowing gracefully with his every movement. The shadows seemed to cling to him like they belonged to him.

His pale skin contrasted starkly with his dark hair, which framed his sharp, otherworldly features. His face was elegant yet unnerving, the kind of beauty that both mesmerized and unsettled. His strong, defined jawline and sharp nose gave his face an aristocratic appearance, while a few faint moles dotted his otherwise perfect complexion. His thick, dark eyebrows added a commanding intensity to his gaze, one that made it hard to look away.

But it was his eyes that held you captive—piercing and gleaming like two pools of silver, reflecting the faint light in a way that felt almost inhuman. They stared at you with an unnerving intensity, as though they could see through you, past the surface, into the deepest parts of your soul.

A smirk tugged at the corner of his lips, slow and deliberate, as though he found some silent amusement in your reaction. His presence was overwhelming, like the very air in the room shifted to accommodate his power. You could feel it, a heavy, ancient energy that radiated from him, seeping into the space between you.

"You are not afraid," he said, his voice smooth and low, carrying an almost hypnotic quality. He took another step closer, and your pulse quickened, though your feet remained rooted in place. "Curious, perhaps… but not afraid."

His words sent a chill down your spine, but you couldn’t bring yourself to back away. His beauty was haunting, but there was something dangerous beneath it, something ancient and powerful. The way he moved, the way he looked at you—it was as if he had all the time in the world, as if he had been waiting for you specifically.

“Who are you?” you managed to ask, your voice quieter than you intended.

He didn’t answer immediately, his intense gaze never leaving yours. Instead, he reached out slowly, his pale fingers brushing against a lock of your hair, almost tenderly. His touch was cold, but the gesture felt oddly intimate.

"You will know soon enough," he whispered, his voice like velvet, wrapping around you. "But for now, consider yourself… a guest."

The way he said it made your stomach twist. A guest in this castle, or something else entirely? You weren’t sure you wanted to find out.

A sudden caw echoed through the room, piercing the tension like a knife. The raven from earlier swooped down through the open window, its wings flapping as it landed on the ledge. His attention shifted, his cold, gleaming eyes breaking away from yours for just a moment.

It was enough.

The spell that had held you frozen broke, and you gasped for breath, your body suddenly free to move. Without thinking, you turned on your heel and ran, the sound of your heartbeat roaring in your ears. Your legs moved as fast as they could, carrying you toward the ballroom doors, your only thought to escape.

But just as you were within reach of the exit, the heavy wooden doors slammed shut with a thunderous boom. The impact left the room in total darkness, as though the very light had been snuffed out by some unseen force.

A scream tore from your throat, but it barely reached your own ears over the rush of adrenaline. Panic surged through your veins as you spun around, desperate to see where he had gone. But the darkness was impenetrable, and where he had stood moments before was now just a void.

Your breath came in ragged gasps as you fumbled toward the door, hoping—praying—it would open. But before you could even touch it, you were met with a pair of glowing red eyes, gleaming like embers in the blackness. They were upside down, hanging just inches from your face, and you stumbled backward, your heart nearly stopping.

“You’re not leaving so soon, are you?” His voice was smooth, with an edge of mockery, as if he were disappointed. You could almost hear the smirk in his tone as he added, “It’s impolite to leave without saying goodbye.”

His red eyes bore into you, his tone calm but menacing, and your body reacted before your mind could catch up. You turned and ran again, darting toward any exit, any escape.

"I love it when they run," you heard him say from behind you, his voice almost a purr.

Your heart raced even faster, and you sprinted through the ballroom, past the pillars, through the shadows, your every instinct screaming to get away. The castle was a maze, but you didn’t care. You had to get out, even if it meant throwing yourself blindly into the unknown corridors ahead. The echo of your footsteps was the only sound as you ran, knowing—feeling—that he was right behind you, enjoying every second of your terror.

As you ran through the dark, twisting corridors of the castle, his voice seemed to follow you, wrapping around your thoughts like a cold fog. It wasn’t loud—it was more like an echo, a taunting whisper in your ears, weaving in and out of your mind, always there no matter how far or fast you ran.

"You think you can escape?" his voice purred, teasing, as though the chase amused him. "There is no escape from me. Not here."

Your breaths came in short, desperate gasps as you darted down another hallway, your legs burning with every frantic step. His presence loomed behind you, unseen but felt, a shadow just out of reach. You could hear his low chuckle, an infuriating sound that sent chills down your spine.

"I could catch you any time I wanted," he said, the words floating around you like smoke. "But this… this is so much more entertaining."

Your heart hammered wildly in your chest, the thudding of your pulse so loud you were sure he could hear it. His voice was so close now, almost like he was whispering directly into your ear.

"I can hear it, you know. Your heart," he murmured, the satisfaction clear in his tone. "It’s beating so fast. So wild. I can feel your blood thrumming beneath your skin, calling to me. So sweet, so tempting."

The way he spoke about your heartbeat, your blood—it made your skin crawl. You turned another corner, stumbling slightly as your fear overtook you, but you didn’t stop. You couldn’t stop.

"You’ll end up in my arms eventually," he continued, his voice velvet-smooth and filled with certainty. "Why fight it? You're running in circles, and we both know how this ends."

You pushed yourself harder, the overwhelming dread threatening to consume you. His voice wrapped tighter around your mind, mocking, as if he knew every thought, every fear coursing through you.

"And to think," he said, his voice dripping with amusement, "you didn’t even believe. You scoffed at the idea of my kind, so sure of yourself. So sure it was all just folklore."

He laughed then, a soft, mocking sound that sent shivers down your spine. "Now look at you—running from the very thing you denied. How ironic."

Tears stung your eyes, not from pain, but from the sheer helplessness of the situation. His presence felt suffocating, growing stronger with every passing second. You could feel him behind you, his gaze like a predator's, tracking your every move, savoring the chase.

You kept running, but in the pit of your stomach, you knew he was right. This was his game, and he was in complete control. The vampire wasn’t just toying with you; he was savoring your terror.

You suddenly skidded to a halt, your chest heaving as you stared ahead. A dead end.

Panic surged through you, your heart racing faster than before. You turned, pressing your back against the cold stone wall, eyes scanning the darkness for any sign of him. But there was nothing. The hallway behind you was empty, silent except for the faint echo of your ragged breathing. Yet, you knew he was there. Somewhere in the shadows, waiting, watching.

Your breath hitched as your fingers brushed against the stone at your back, searching for any way out, any escape from this nightmare. Just then, you felt something—a click beneath your palm. You barely had time to register what it was before the wall behind you shifted.

With a sudden jolt, the stone gave way, and you let out a small noise of surprise as you stumbled backward. The floor beneath your feet disappeared, and before you could react, you were sliding—falling into darkness as the wall sealed shut above you.

The stone passage gave way to a steep, slick tunnel, and you slid down fast, the air rushing past you as the world blurred around you. Your heart pounded in your chest, your hands grasping at the smooth, unforgiving surface as you tumbled deeper into the unknown. There was no way to stop yourself, no way to control the rapid descent.

The tunnel twisted and turned, and you had no idea where it led—or if it would ever end. All you knew was that it was taking you farther from him, away from the overwhelming presence that had haunted you. But at what cost?

After what felt like an eternity, the tunnel spit you out onto a hard, damp floor. You gasped, the impact knocking the wind from your lungs as you lay there, disoriented, the cold seeping through your clothes. The room you found yourself in was dimly lit by torches mounted on ancient stone walls, the flickering light casting long shadows. It looked like an underground chamber, far beneath the castle.

For a moment, you just lay there, catching your breath, trying to process what had just happened. You’d escaped—at least for now. But as the adrenaline began to fade, the terror settled in once more. You had no idea where you were, no idea how deep into the castle you had fallen.

And no idea if he was still following you.

You pulled yourself up onto shaky legs, looking around the chamber, your eyes catching on a doorway at the far end. It seemed to lead further into the labyrinth beneath the castle. You swallowed hard, a sense of foreboding settling in your gut. But you couldn’t stay here. You had to move, to keep going, even if it meant diving deeper into this strange, twisted place.

You glanced behind you, half-expecting to see those glowing red eyes emerge from the shadows. But for now, there was only silence.

You pushed yourself foward, your legs trembling as you forced them to move. Every step felt heavy, the fear still gripping you like a vice. The chamber stretched out ahead of you, dim and eerie, the flickering torchlight casting long, dancing shadows across the stone walls.

You hesitated at the doorway, staring into the hallway beyond, a narrow passage lined with more rooms, each one giving off an air of something long-forgotten. You swallowed hard, the silence around you oppressive, and took a tentative step forward.

The first room you passed was small, the door slightly ajar. Curiosity mixed with dread as you nudged it open further, revealing its contents. In the center of the room sat a single coffin, its lid partially cracked open, the heavy wood creaking under its own weight. Your breath hitched as you moved closer, half-expecting something to leap out from within.

But it was empty.

Just an old, decaying coffin, its insides lined with faded velvet. You backed away slowly, glancing over your shoulder as you left the room behind, hoping that whatever had been inside had long since departed.

As you moved further down the passage, you found another room. This one was larger, the door hanging loosely from its hinges. The coffin here was fully closed, the surface covered in a thick layer of dust. You stepped inside, your footsteps echoing in the stillness as you circled it, unease prickling at the back of your neck. Something about this room felt different—heavier, somehow. But when you finally gathered the nerve to push the coffin lid open, you found it empty too.

One by one, you passed through room after room, each holding a coffin at its center. Some were open, revealing nothing but darkness inside. Others were sealed tight, but there was no sign of life—or unlife—in any of them. The further you went, the more the rooms began to blur together, all holding the same macabre centerpiece. The coffins, despite their ominous presence, seemed abandoned.

But why?

You shuddered, the silence pressing in around you like a weight, each breath you took feeling like a strain. This place wasn’t just old—it was ancient, steeped in something far darker than time. You couldn't shake the feeling that this wasn’t a mere crypt. It felt like a lair.

And if these coffins were empty… where were their inhabitants now?

The question sent a chill down your spine, and you quickened your pace, moving from room to room, hoping to find an exit, an escape from this twisted place. But the longer you wandered through the labyrinth of coffins, the more you felt the walls closing in on you.

As you reached the end of the hallway, your breath shallow and your nerves on edge, you hesitated in front of the final door. The wood was polished, untouched by time or decay, standing in stark contrast to the worn stone and dilapidated coffins behind you. Something about this door felt different—almost inviting, as if it didn’t belong in the same world as the crypt-like rooms you had passed through.

Slowly, you reached for the handle and pushed the door open.

What you found on the other side left you momentarily speechless. It wasn’t the cold, dark chamber you had expected. Instead, you stepped into a room that felt strangely… warm. Cozy, even. The scent of aged wood and faint traces of smoke from long-dead fires hung in the air, and the soft glow from several lamps bathed the room in a golden light.

The room was well-kept, utterly free from the dust and decay that plagued the rest of the castle. Tall bookshelves lined the walls, filled with leather-bound tomes that looked like they had been carefully preserved over centuries. Plush couches and chairs were scattered around the room, their rich, dark fabrics pristine as if waiting for guests to arrive. Empty fireplaces dotted the walls, their mantels adorned with intricate carvings and relics. The ambiance was one of strange elegance and a sense of deep history.

But what caught your attention most were the portraits hanging on the walls. You walked closer, your eyes widening in recognition. The first painting was of the man, tall and regal, with the same otherworldly beauty as you had encountered in the ballroom. His dark hair fell in loose waves around his face, and though he appeared younger in the portrait, his eyes—the same piercing gaze you had locked eyes with earlier—remained the same. Cold. Intense.

Your breath hitched as you moved to the next painting. It was him again, this time standing beside another figure who looked similar in appearance, though this person’s features were softer, less severe. They were younger here, almost ageless, but there was a darkness in their eyes that hadn’t been captured in the earlier portraits.

You continued down the line of paintings, each depicting moments from what must have been his life—or rather, his existence. In some, he stood alone in grand ballrooms or ancient forests, always with that same commanding presence. In others, he was surrounded by people, but their faces were blurred, as if time had erased their significance.

Every painting radiated an unsettling energy, and with each new portrait, you felt the weight of his presence grow stronger. It was as though he had always been here, lurking in the shadows of the castle for centuries, waiting.

And now you were in his domain.

You took a shaky step back, your mind racing. The man you had met wasn’t just some passing phantom—he was something much older. The fact that this room looked so well-preserved while the rest of the castle crumbled around it told you that it was special, important. This was his space, and you had wandered right into it.

A creeping sense of dread settled in your chest as you glanced at the portrait once more. His eyes, even from the canvas, seemed to watch your every move, as though he was still there, lurking just out of sight.

As you continued to absorb the enchanting yet unsettling atmosphere of the cozy room, your eyes fell on the books lining the shelves. They were a mix of titles, but one caught your attention—a familiar spine adorned with elegant lettering. It was a book you had read long ago, a tale of forbidden love between a human and a vampire, steeped in tragedy and longing.

You approached the shelf, your heart racing. The book felt almost like a beacon, calling out to you. With trembling hands, you reached for it, pulling it gently from its place. As you did, a soft click echoed through the room, causing you to pause mid-motion. Your breath hitched as the shelf shifted slightly, revealing a narrow gap—a hidden door.

You couldn’t believe your eyes. A secret passageway? Without a second thought, you placed the book down on one of the couches, your heart pounding with anticipation. Slipping behind the shelf, you squeezed through the narrow opening, the air cooler as you entered the darkness of the hidden hallway.

The passage was dimly lit, the walls lined with rough stone, and you moved quickly, driven by a sense of urgency. You had no idea how long you had before the vampire would realize you were gone. The hallway twisted and turned, each step echoing in the silence, leading you deeper into the bowels of the castle.

Finally, you reached the end of the corridor, where a hatch stood ajar, the faint light of the moon spilling in through the crack. Your heart raced as you climbed up, pushing the hatch open and crawling through. As you emerged, the cool night air hit your face like a breath of fresh freedom.

You blinked against the brightness, taking in your surroundings. You were in a courtyard, the stars twinkling above like a million tiny lanterns. The space was overgrown with wildflowers and tangled vines, the stone walls of the castle looming high around you. It was eerily quiet, the kind of quiet that hinted at secrets lingering in the shadows.

You took a moment to catch your breath, relief flooding through you. You had escaped! But as you stood there, taking in the beauty of the courtyard, you couldn't shake the feeling that you weren’t entirely safe yet. The castle was alive with its own history, and you were still very much a part of it.

Then, just as you were about to make your way toward an exit, you heard it—a faint rustling behind you. Instinctively, you turned, heart pounding as you scanned the area. The shadows danced, and for a brief moment, you thought you caught a glimpse of dark hair and those hauntingly bright eyes among the foliage.

Your breath caught in your throat.

It was him.

“Where are you going?” His voice drifted through the air, smooth and inviting, yet laced with an undercurrent of danger.

You felt the urge to run again, to flee into the night, but your legs felt like lead. You were trapped in a moment where fear and curiosity collided, and there he was, stepping out from the shadows, a smirk playing on his lips, an ethereal figure framed by the moonlight.

You backed away, your heart racing as he stepped closer, closing the distance between you with an unsettling grace. The night air felt charged, and you could almost feel the heat radiating off him, drawing you in even as every instinct told you to flee.

You averted your gaze, focusing instead on the tangled vines and wildflowers at your feet, determined not to meet his intense stare. His presence was overwhelming, and you felt like a moth drawn to a flame, teetering on the edge of danger.

He chuckled softly, the sound smooth and velvety, cutting through the stillness of the courtyard. “Oh, my sweet,” he purred, his voice low and mesmerizing. “Why are you avoiding me? I can see you trying not to look into my eyes, and I must admit, I would love to see your beautiful eyes.”

Your heart thudded in your chest, a mix of fear and something else—a strange, inexplicable allure. He took another step forward, his gaze locking onto you with an intensity that sent shivers down your spine. “I want to see all of you,” he continued, his voice almost a whisper, beckoning you to look at him.

For a fleeting moment, you felt the pull of his words, the way they wrapped around you like a silken thread. But you held strong, forcing yourself to look away. You focused on the distant trees lining the edge of the courtyard, the moonlight casting long shadows that felt like barriers between you and him.

“Come now,” he teased, his tone playful yet dripping with a seductive edge. “Don’t you want to see me too? It’s only fair, isn’t it?”

His words curled around you, tempting you to relent, to give in to that magnetic pull. But you steeled yourself, clenching your fists at your sides. “I don’t believe in vampires,” you whispered, even though the words felt hollow.

“Is that so?” His voice took on a mocking lilt, though there was an undeniable intrigue beneath it. “And yet, here you are, in my courtyard, speaking to me. Perhaps you should reconsider your beliefs.”

You took another step back, your mind racing. “I don’t want to be here,” you replied, desperation creeping into your voice. “I need to leave.”

His expression shifted, the playful demeanor slipping slightly, replaced with something darker, more serious. “You think you can just run away from me?”

The challenge hung heavy in the air. He stepped forward again, and you felt a spark of panic. But instead of fleeing, you summoned your courage and stood your ground. “I’m not afraid of you,” you declared, even as uncertainty gripped you.

“Not afraid?” he echoed, tilting his head, eyes glimmering with mischief. “Then why do you tremble? Why does your heart beat so fast, as if it's dancing to a rhythm only I can hear?”

You felt your heart racing, pulse pounding in your ears. But still, you refused to look him in the eye. “Because I know what you are,” you replied, trying to sound steady despite the tremor in your voice.

His lips curved into a slow, wicked smile, and he stepped even closer, closing the gap until you could feel the coldness radiating from him. “Then you should know that running only makes it more exciting. The chase is always the best part.”

Your heart raced faster at his words, and as you felt the pull of his gaze, you realized how dangerous this game truly was. You were caught between the urge to run and the undeniable allure of the dark figure before you, each moment stretching out like an eternity.

Before you could react, he zoomed toward you, his movements blurring in the dim light. In an instant, he grasped your waist and pulled you into a whirlwind dance, swirling you around the courtyard. The force of his embrace was intoxicating, and you found you couldn’t break free from his grip, caught in a dizzying mix of fear and exhilaration as you spun beneath the gaze of the dark figure before you.

In an instant, he wrapped his strong arms around you, lifting you effortlessly off the ground. Panic surged through you as he flew into the night sky, the wind whipping around you like a storm.

You screamed, gripping his cloak tightly, your heart racing as the ground fell away beneath you. “What are you doing?!” you yelled, your voice lost in the rush of the wind.

He only laughed, a low, melodic sound that echoed through the air. “Relax, I won’t drop you!” he teased, spinning you around in midair. His cloak unfurled behind him like dark wings, creating a mesmerizing display against the moonlit sky.

Your stomach dropped as he twirled you around, the world below a dizzying blur. Fear mingled with exhilaration, and you felt your breath catch in your throat. “You’re insane!” you shouted.

Just as you thought you might lose your nerve, he began to descend, spiraling down closer to the ground. Seizing the moment, you slipped out of his grasp, landing roughly on your feet. You stumbled but quickly regained your balance, glancing up to find surprise etched across his face. He hadn’t expected you to break free so easily.

Without a second thought, you turned and ran, bolting toward the open door of the castle. Your heart raced as adrenaline coursed through your veins, your instincts screaming at you to get away.

“Round two then…” you heard him murmur, his tone thrilled, as he followed after you. There was no rush in his movements; he glided toward you with an unsettling calmness, as if he was toying with you rather than truly trying to catch you.

You dashed back into the castle, the cool air of the interior hitting you like a wave as you ducked through the doorway. You could hear him behind you, a predator enjoying the chase. The thrill of the hunt invigorated him, and you knew he was reveling in every moment.

You sprinted down the familiar hallways, weaving in and out of rooms as you sought a place to hide or a way to escape. Your mind raced, frantically considering your options, while the echo of his laughter followed you like a shadow.

“Come now,” he called playfully, his voice echoing off the walls. “You can’t run forever.”

His words sent a chill down your spine, and you pushed yourself harder, dodging into a nearby room. You quickly glanced around, noting the furnishings and the looming shadows. It was another beautifully decorated room, but the ominous atmosphere made it feel like a trap.

Taking a moment to catch your breath, you ducked behind a large armoire, the wood cool against your back. You listened intently, the sound of his footsteps echoing through the hall as he approached. The anticipation sent your heart racing again, each thud echoing louder in your ears.

“Where are you hiding?” he called out, a hint of amusement in his tone. “You can’t hide forever."

You swallowed hard, peering around the edge of the armoire. The room was dim, shadows flickering in the corners, but you couldn’t see him yet. The tension was palpable, and as you prepared to make another move, you felt the cold chill of his presence creeping closer.

“I can smell your fear,” he teased, his voice sending a shiver down your spine. “It’s intoxicating.”

His voice echoed through the dim room, weaving around you like a silken thread. “Oh, come on now. You know it’s no fun if you don’t try to make it interesting,” he taunted, the amusement clear in his tone. You felt a rush of heat rise to your cheeks as your heart raced, adrenaline coursing through your veins.

You knew you had to stay focused, but something compelled you to look up. As your gaze traveled upward, your breath caught in your throat. There he was, hanging upside down from the ceiling like a bat, his striking red eyes fixed on you with a intense gleam. The sight was both mesmerizing and terrifying, and your instincts screamed at you to run.

Before you could react, he dropped down gracefully, landing silently beside you. The world spun as darkness enveloped you, and you felt yourself slipping away, consciousness fading into oblivion.

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When you came to, the softness of a couch enveloped you, and you blinked against the dim light filtering through the room. The walls were adorned with rich, dark fabrics, giving the space an opulent yet eerie feel. Confusion washed over you as you took in your surroundings, noting the closed black coffin positioned ominously beside the couch and the door, which appeared solid and unyielding.

You stood up groggily, the remnants of sleep still clouding your mind. Shaking off the dizziness, you staggered toward the door, hoping to escape, but it wouldn’t budge under your hands. You shoved against it with all your strength, but it remained stubbornly closed. “No, no, no…” you murmured, fear rising like bile in your throat.

Turning away from the door, you focused on the coffin, a sense of dread washing over you. It was beautifully crafted, the wood polished to a dark sheen that seemed to absorb the light. You stepped closer, your heart thudding in your chest with each cautious footfall. The atmosphere was thick with an unsettling energy, and you felt drawn to it against your better judgment.

Your fingers brushed against the cool surface of the coffin, and you hesitated, breath hitching. Should you open it? Even if every instinct told you to turn away, to flee, but curiosity gnawed at you, urging you to find out what lay within.

Taking a deep breath, you grasped the lid, feeling the smooth, cold wood beneath your fingers. With a steadying exhale, you began to lift it, the creaking hinges sounding like a whisper in the silence. As the lid opened, darkness greeted you from within, a chill creeping into the room.

Before you could fully comprehend what you were seeing, an icy hand shot out from within the coffin, wrapping around your arm with a grip like iron. You gasped and stumbled back, your heart racing as he emerged from the coffin, his face inches from yours.

He looked just as otherworldly as before, with his pale skin and sharp features accentuated in the dim light. His dark hair framed his face, and his crimson eyes locked onto yours, gleaming with a mixture of amusement and intrigue.

“Did you miss me?” he asked, his voice low and teasing, a smirk playing on his lips.

You recoiled instinctively, yanking your arm away from his grip, but he only laughed softly, the sound echoing eerily in the enclosed space. “You shouldn’t be so scared,” he continued, tilting his head as if studying you.

“What do you want from me?” you demanded, trying to sound braver than you felt.

He leaned closer, his expression shifting to one of genuine curiosity. “You’re fascinating, really. So full of life, and yet you came all the way into my domain, challenging everything you thought you knew.”

“Let me go,” you pleaded, glancing nervously at the closed door. “I didn’t ask to be here!”

“Oh, but you’re exactly where you’re meant to be,” he replied, his tone dripping with an unsettling calmness.

As he climbed out of the coffin, his movements were fluid and graceful, almost predatory. You instinctively took a step back, your heart racing as he approached. The air around him felt charged, and the darkness of the room seemed to pulse with his energy.

He stepped closer, his eyes locked onto yours, a hungry glint flickering in their depths. “You smell absolutely divine,” he murmured, a fanged smile stretching across his lips. “I can only imagine how sweet your blood would taste.”

You backed away instinctively, but soon you felt the cold, unforgiving wall pressing against your back, trapping you. There was no escape, and the realization sent a wave of dread crashing over you. Before you could think of a plan, he closed the distance, pulling you tightly against him.

His grip was unyielding, and panic surged within you as you struggled against his hold. “Let me go!” you gasped, twisting in his grasp, but he only tsked, shaking his head slowly.

“Oh, but you’re mine now,” he said, his voice low and teasing.

With a swift motion, he leaned in, his lips barely grazing your neck. You could feel his cold breath against your skin, and it sent shivers down your spine. The sensation was both terrifying and strangely exhilarating. You instinctively wiggled free, but he only tightened his grip, his fingers like iron around your waist.

“I will earn my fill now that I have you,” he continued, his voice dripping with dark delight. “You’re trapped, sweet creature. You don’t stand a chance against me. I could sense you the moment you stepped foot into my castle.”

His gaze was intense, a mix of hunger and fascination, and you couldn’t help but feel the weight of his words. “You’ve been claimed ever since you entered my domain,” he said, his smirk growing wider. “You’re mine, and there’s no escaping that.”

The world around you felt like it was closing in, the reality of your situation dawning on you like a heavy fog. He was not just a vampire; he was a predator, and you were his prey. Your heart raced, pounding loudly in your chest, and you could almost hear it echoing in the stillness of the room.

“Please,” you breathed, trying to regain some semblance of control. “You don’t have to do this. Just let me go.”

He chuckled softly, leaning closer until his mouth hovered just above your skin. “But why would I? This is the most fun I’ve had in centuries.”

The way he said it sent a chill through you. It was a thrill for him, a game, and the realization sank deep into your bones. You could feel his cold, sharp fangs grazing your neck, teasingly close, and a rush of fear mixed with an unsettling curiosity washed over you.

He pulled back slightly to look into your eyes, an intense gaze that seemed to see right through you. “Don’t be coy,” he murmured, his voice low and sultry. “I can sense what you really feel in your heart.”

“I don’t know what you mean,” you stammered, pushing against him, your hands resting on his chest. The silk of his blouse felt cool against your skin, and the cold seeped through to your fingertips, but what sent a shiver down your spine was the absence of a heartbeat beneath your palms.

As he registered the shock on your face, he grinned wider, revealing his glinting fangs. “What did you expect?” he asked, his tone playful yet dark. “I’m an undead creature of the night, after all.”

His words sent another wave of fear coursing through you, yet the thrill of his presence was undeniable. You were teetering on the edge, caught between the instinct to flee and the inexplicable pull that drew you closer to him.

“Don’t worry,” he whispered, his voice a dark caress. “I won’t take more than you can give. For now, let’s just enjoy the moment.”

He leaned in, his lips nearly brushing against yours, the proximity igniting a fire within you that both terrified and thrilled. Just as you felt the magnetic pull to close the distance, you instinctively pulled back, breaking the tension.

He chuckled softly, a low, melodic sound that resonated in the air between you, as if he found your hesitation amusing. “Aren’t you curious?” he teased, his eyes gleaming with mischief.

You felt your resolve faltering, caught between terror and the strange allure of the unknown. Your instincts screamed at you to flee, yet part of you was mesmerized by the intensity of his gaze. You were lost in a battle of wills, and as he held you there, you couldn’t help but wonder what this encounter would truly mean.

He leaned in close again, his breath cool against your skin as he teased you, a low chuckle rumbling in his chest. “You’re so captivating,” he murmured, his fingers dancing along your arm, caressing you with a gentleness that belied the danger he posed. “It’s almost a shame that I have to take you like this.”

As his gaze bore into you, something within began to unravel. You felt your defenses crumbling, the tension in your body slowly ebbing away under his intense scrutiny. It was terrifying to feel yourself succumbing, yet the more he spoke, the more you felt that fear dissipate. “That’s it… give in,” he whispered, his voice sultry and low, as he gently tilted your head to the side, exposing your neck.

Your heart raced, anticipation mingling with dread, as he opened his mouth, revealing his elongated fangs gleaming in the dim light. The sight sent a thrill of both terror and unexpected excitement coursing through you.

Before you could protest, he bit down, sharp pain piercing through your skin but quickly melting into a rush of pleasure that took you completely by surprise. A gasp escaped your lips, followed by a soft whine as he began to suck your blood greedily, drawing it from you with an intensity that sent shivers down your spine.

Your body slackened in his hold, your strength fading as he continued to feast. You felt a wave of warmth wash over you, a sensation so intoxicating that it rendered you breathless. Your hands barely clutched at the fabric of his black blouse, a feeble attempt to ground yourself, yet it felt as if every rational thought was slipping away with each heartbeat.

All you could hear was the soft sound of him huffing and groaning, as if he were savoring a fine delicacy. The sensation was overwhelming, a blend of pleasure and danger that left you lightheaded.

“Delicious,” he murmured against your skin, his voice a low rumble that vibrated through you. “You taste even better than I imagined.”

Every pull of his lips made you feel both exhilarated and vulnerable, the world around you fading into nothingness as he consumed you. You had crossed a threshold, stepping into a realm where fear mingled with desire, and it was intoxicating.

As the edges of your consciousness began to blur, you found yourself surrendering to the moment. You could feel him pulling more from you, but it no longer felt like a threat. Instead, it felt like a dark embrace, one that wrapped around you and pulled you deeper into his allure. The fear you once had started to dissipate, replaced by an unexpected yearning, and all you could think was how surreal it felt to be in his grasp—his captive.

When he finally pulled back, your vision swam for a moment, the world around you fading into a soft haze. The room swirled, edges blurring as you struggled to grasp what had just happened. He lingered close, his breath cool against your skin, a stark contrast to the warmth that still radiated from where he had bitten you. You caught a glimpse of his lips, stained crimson with your blood, and the sight was both horrifying and oddly mesmerizing.

“Can’t waste a single drop of your blood,” he purred, his voice a low, seductive whisper that wrapped around you like silk, each word tinged with a lingering hunger. The intensity of his gaze held you captive, drawing you into the depths of his eyes—dark pools filled with an unsettling mixture of desire and something deeper.

As he leaned in closer, you noticed his long fangs retracting slowly, almost reluctantly, until they returned to their normal size. It was a strange sight, watching the sharpness dissolve into a more human form, yet the danger remained palpable. His smile, revealing just enough of those once-fearsome fangs, only added to the allure, a reminder of what he was capable of.

“Isn’t it beautiful?” he asked, his voice a low murmur that sent shivers down your spine. “The way your blood flows, so rich and warm. You can’t deny the connection we share, can you?” He moved even closer, brushing a cold finger along your jawline, his touch electric against your skin.

You watched his eyes, captivated by the way they shimmered with something that felt almost tender. “You’re special,” he continued, his voice a soft caress.

As he neared, you could feel the subtle pull of his presence, an intoxicating mix of danger and allure. He tilted his head slightly, his dark hair brushing against your cheek, and his gaze flickered down to the bite mark on your neck. The anticipation made your breath hitch as he moved with a deliberate slowness, almost savoring the moment.

Then, with a soft, teasing smile, he leaned in, his lips hovering just above your skin. You could feel the chill radiating from him, mingling with the warmth of your own blood. He extended his tongue, the tip just barely brushing against the puncture wound, and a gasp escaped your lips.

“Such a sweet taste,” he murmured, his voice a husky caress. He began to lick the remnants of your blood from your neck, his tongue gliding smoothly over your skin, each stroke sending shivers racing down your spine. The sensation was electric, a mix of pleasure and fear that left you breathless.

“You did so well,” he complimented, his voice a gentle caress. “You’re absolutely delicious.” The warmth in his tone made your heart race, a mixture of exhilaration and vulnerability flooding your senses.

He wore a soft smile, an expression that contrasted sharply with the predatory nature he had just displayed. “Now, you should sleep,” he said, his words wrapping around you like a warm blanket.

Before you could respond, you felt an overwhelming wave of drowsiness crash over you, your eyelids growing heavy. The world around you blurred again, the shadows of the room fading as you succumbed to the enveloping darkness.

Just as you slipped into the depths of sleep, you heard him whisper one last thing: “Rest, my sweet.”

The last remnants of your consciousness faded away, leaving you with the warmth of his presence lingering in your mind, a mix of fear and something akin to longing swirling within you as you drifted into a dreamless slumber.

੭﹕ ̊ ̟ ꒷꒦

When you finally woke up, the soft light of the morning sun filtered through the fabric of your tent, casting warm patterns across your sleeping bag. You sat up slowly, a sharp jolt of pain and lingering pleasure coursing through your body, making you gasp.

Grabbing your phone from your bag, you opened the camera app and hesitated for a moment, dread settling in your stomach. With a shaky breath, you turned the camera toward your neck, revealing two distinct puncture wounds where fangs had sunk into your skin. They weren’t bleeding, at least, but they were tender and very sore, a painful reminder of the night you had just endured.

Groaning softly, you covered the marks with the collar of your hoodie, hoping to hide the evidence of your encounter. You took a moment to gather yourself, shaking off the disorienting feelings that clouded your mind. Somehow, you felt a strange urge to keep it to yourself, a compulsion that tightened your throat. You couldn’t tell them. You physically couldn’t.

Taking a deep breath, you unzipped the tent and stepped outside, greeted by the crisp morning air and the sounds of your friends bustling around the campsite. They were in high spirits, joking and laughing as they packed up their gear, blissfully unaware of the turmoil brewing inside you.

“Hey, sleepyhead! You finally up?” Ji-won called, her voice cheerful and light. You managed a smile, forcing yourself to blend in with their laughter, the normalcy of the moment clashing violently with the chaos in your mind.

“Yeah, just needed a little extra rest,” you replied, your voice steady despite the whirlwind of emotions swirling within. You helped your friends pack the car, moving through the motions mechanically, but every time someone brushed against your shoulder or joked about the trip, you felt a pang of guilt twist in your stomach.

This was it - you were leaving the forest.

You climbed into the car, the familiar sights of trees and trails began to fade into the background, replaced by the hum of the engine and the chatter of your friends.

But the beauty of the forest was lost on you now, overshadowed by the memory of the castle and the enigmatic figure that haunted your thoughts. The drive back to the city felt interminable, a blur of colors and sounds that felt distant and unreal.

As you gazed out the window, the world sped by, but inside, time stood still. You wondered what would happen next, the memory of his voice echoing in your mind.

੭﹕ ̊ ̟ ꒷꒦

The days after returning from the forest blurred into a haze of mundane life. You went through the motions—work, meals, interactions with friends—yet your mind often drifted back to him. It was absurd, really. You didn’t even know his name. He was a vampire for Christ’s sake! He had kidnapped you, hunted you down and sucked your blood. Logic screamed that it should be over. You should be relieved, grateful even. But instead, you found yourself longing for the very presence that had terrified you.

As you watched the bite heal over the following days, the hollow feeling in your chest only deepened. It was maddening to crave someone who had brought you so much fear, but you couldn’t help it. You missed the thrill of his presence, the way he had made you feel—alive and desired in a way that was intoxicatingly dangerous.

Finally, one restless night, you’d had enough. You packed a small bag with essentials—nothing too much, just enough for a quick escape. As you walked to your car, the cool air brushed against your skin, sending a shiver down your spine. You glanced up at the star-speckled sky, letting the weight of your decision settle in. This was it; you were going back to find him, to confront whatever feelings you had buried deep inside.

Just then, you heard it—the soft but unmistakable sound of flapping wings. You squinted into the darkness, and to your shock, a large bat soared toward you, silhouetted against the moonlight. Your heart raced as the creature approached, growing larger and larger until it was right above you.

In an instant, the bat transformed, wings sweeping down as if caught in an invisible breeze. The dark silhouette shifted, the outline of the creature expanding and elongating until, with a graceful flourish, the wings folded and melted into the fabric of a dark cloak. It billowed around him, framing his tall, imposing figure as he stood before you in all his otherworldly glory.

His transformation was mesmerizing, each movement fluid and enchanting, as though he were a figure drawn from the pages of an ancient tale. The bat's fur receded, revealing smooth, pale skin, and his elongated face morphed into the man—sharp features emerging from the shadows.

When he fully materialized before you, his eyes, shimmering silver and reminiscent of the moonlit night, locked onto yours with an intensity that stole your breath. Those mesmerizing orbs held a depth that beckoned you closer, promising untold secrets and dark delights.

As he stepped forward, the cloak fluttered lightly around him, accentuating his tall, imposing frame. His movements were deliberate and graceful, as though he were still part of the night air, gliding instead of walking.

“Don’t be afraid,” he said, his voice a low murmur. Before you could reply, he stepped forward and pulled you into his arms, his hold both possessive and comforting. “I couldn’t bear to be away from you. This desire, this need to be close to you—it snapped the moment you left.”

Your heart raced, a mixture of fear and exhilaration coursing through you as you gazed up at him. “I felt the same,” you admitted, the words tumbling out before you could second-guess them. “I couldn’t stop thinking about you.”

A smile broke across his face, radiant and wicked, lighting up his features in the moonlight. “Then let’s not waste another moment.” He leaned down, capturing your lips with his in a kiss that was deep, hungry, and filled with all the longing you both had kept at bay.

As his mouth moved against yours, you melted into him, your earlier fears dissolving into a warmth that spread through your entire being. You were no longer just a scared girl standing in the dark; you were alive and desired.

You pulled back slightly from the kiss, still feeling the lingering heat of his lips against yours. “I didn’t think you would come,” you admitted, your heart racing from the intensity of the moment.

His gaze softened, and he brushed a thumb against your cheek. “You were meant for me,” he said, the certainty in his voice sending a shiver down your spine. “Long before we even met.”

Before you could respond, he lifted you effortlessly into his arms, and with a powerful thrust, he soared into the night sky. The wind whipped around you, and you gasped in a mix of exhilaration and fear as he held you tightly against him, his body a solid anchor. Below, the forest shrank away, and soon, the familiar silhouette of the castle emerged from the darkness.

He landed gracefully at the entrance, setting you down with a gentleness that belied his strength. You glanced around, awe washing over you as he led you inside. The castle felt alive, its ancient stones thrumming with an energy that pulsed in time with your heartbeat.

He guided you through dimly lit hallways until you reached a room at the heart of the castle. It was spacious, adorned with ornate furniture and draped fabrics that whispered tales of the past. The centerpiece of the room was an old portrait hanging on the wall, its colors faded but still striking.

You stepped closer, your breath catching in your throat as you took in the two figures locked in an embrace—lovers entwined as if frozen in time. They looked remarkably similar to you and him, their features hauntingly alike, as if you were gazing into a reflection of your own souls.

“We are destined to be together in every lifetime,” he said softly, his voice resonating with emotion. “Only in this one… you aren’t a vampire like me.”

You turned to him, searching his eyes for understanding. “But why? Why me?”

He stepped closer, cupping your face in his cold hands. “Because you’re the light to my darkness. My existence has always been shadowed, but you… you bring warmth, hope. I couldn’t let you go without fighting for you.”

As you looked into his eyes, the gravity of his words sank in, filling the space between you with an electric tension. You felt an overwhelming connection, as if the universe had conspired to bring you together across time and space.

“I want to understand this,” you whispered, your voice trembling with emotion. “I want to be with you.”

His expression softened, and he leaned closer, brushing his lips against your forehead. “Then let me show you what it means to be together in this life. We have all the time in the world to explore our love, to create a new destiny.”

He leaned in again, capturing your lips with his in a passionate kiss that sent shivers down your spine. His warmth enveloped you, igniting a fire deep within. You melted into him, lost in the depths of his embrace until he pulled away, his gaze locking onto the bite mark on your neck.

His expression shifted, a mix of hunger and longing in his eyes. “Please,” he whispered, his voice laced with an almost desperate edge. “I need to taste you again. Just a little… I promise it will feel even better this time.”

You felt a rush of excitement and trepidation as he lowered his mouth toward your neck. There was a part of you that wanted to resist, to remember the fear from before, but another part—one that yearned for him—welcomed the idea. You nodded, your breath hitching in your throat as he extended his fangs.

As they grazed your skin, a wave of anticipation coursed through you. He sank his fangs into the tender flesh, and the sensation was electric. A mix of pain and pleasure surged through your body, so much more intense than the first time. You gasped, a soft moan escaping your lips as he drew your blood, his mouth moving with a grace that sent pleasure spiraling through you.

Each pull was deeper, more fervent, and you felt your heart race in response. It was intoxicating, the way he savored every drop, as if you were the sweetest nectar he had ever tasted.

“More,” he murmured against your skin, his voice thick with desire. You could feel his cool breath against your neck, heightening the experience as he drank you in, and you willingly surrendered to him. Every fiber of your being hummed with pleasure, and you felt yourself growing weaker, but you didn’t care. You craved this connection, the intensity of being with him.

When he finally pulled back, he looked almost dazed, eyes glinting with satisfaction and desire. “You’re even sweeter than I remembered,” he said, his voice low and husky, stained with your blood.

Your pulse quickened as you met his gaze, the lines between fear and desire blurring with each heartbeat. You realized you were irrevocably drawn to him, a part of you now tethered to his dark world.

“Now,” he continued, brushing his thumb over the bite mark as if to savor the memory, “we are truly connected. You’ve given me a piece of yourself, and now I want to give you everything in return.”

He then licked his lips, a playful glint in his eyes. “I will show you what it means to be loved by a vampire,” he promised, his voice smooth like silk. “I will take such good care of you, and together, I will reveal my world to you.” With each word, he pressed soft kisses along your neck, trailing to your throat, and then finally capturing your lips with his.

As he hovered slightly in the air, cradling you in his arms, you felt an overwhelming sense of trust and desire blooming within you. You nodded, unable to contain the excitement that surged through your veins. “Show me,” you breathed, and he smiled against your lips before taking off toward his room.

The world blurred around you as he flew effortlessly, the castle’s dark beauty rushing by in a haze. Within moments, you found yourselves in his chamber, where an open coffin awaited, its interior lined with dark velvet. He slowly descended, sinking into the coffin with you on top of him, still locked in a fervent embrace.

As he kissed you, his lips peppering your face with soft pecks, he whispered sweet nothings against your skin, his hands gliding down your back, anchoring you to him. “I’ve craved to hold you like this," he murmured, his voice a melodic caress that wrapped around you like a warm embrace.

You melted against him, heart racing. His lips found yours again, melding together in a tender yet passionate dance that left you breathless. But amidst the blissful haze, a question that had burned in your mind resurfaced, demanding to be answered. Pulling back slightly, you gazed into his mesmerizing eyes, the intensity of his gaze holding you captive. “What’s your name?” you asked, your breath hitching slightly as you searched his face for the answer.

“Sunghoon,” he replied, his voice a low rumble that sent shivers down your spine. The sound of his name rolled off his tongue like a secret whispered in the dark, and you felt a thrill at the intimacy it promised.

Your heart raced as you whispered your name to him, and a knowing smile spread across his lips. “I know,” he said softly, his breath ghosting over your skin as he kissed your wrist with a tenderness that made your heart flutter. It was a sweet, intimate gesture that sent shivers coursing through you, awakening a desire you didn’t fully understand.

“Become my vampire bride,” he said, his gaze intense and brimming with yearning, making you feel like the only person in the world. The weight of his words hung between you like a promise, igniting a deep urge to be close to him, to belong to him entirely. But before you could find the words to respond, he leaned in, pressing his lips to a sensitive spot on your neck. A soft whine escaped your mouth, the sound betraying your excitement and vulnerability.

“Yes,” you gasped, overwhelmed by the sensations coursing through you. “I want to.”

Sunghoon’s eyes brightened with delight, and he captured your lips again, the kiss deepening as he pulled you closer, his warmth enveloping you. But he didn’t stop there; his lips trailed down your neck, leaving a path of gentle bites and teasing kisses. Each brush of his lips sent a wave of heat through your body, a rush of pleasure mixed with anticipation that left you breathless.

He nipped and sucked at your skin, his fangs grazing you just enough to send sparks dancing beneath the surface. You could feel the blood pooling just below your skin, and with each kiss, he seemed to coax it forth, drawing it into his eager mouth. The sensations built with every passing moment, the combination of his cold touch and the warmth of your blood leaving you hazy and utterly lost in the moment.

“Please, just a little more,” he groaned, his voice thick with longing as he lavished attention on your neck. The way he suckled at your skin, lapping at the small wounds he’d created, made you gasp and arch into him, your fingers tangling in his dark hair. The sound of your whines intertwined with his groans, creating a echo in the stillness of the room.

With each tender bite, he coaxed forth more of your blood, and the line between pleasure and pain blurred beautifully. You felt as though you were teetering on the edge of something profound, lost in the depths of his dark desire and your own.

੭﹕ ̊ ̟ ꒷꒦

Just outside the window, a raven flapped its wings, its caw slicing through the thick silence of the night. It soared into the star-speckled sky, a dark silhouette against the moonlight. In a flurry of shadowy wings, a horde of bats followed closely behind, darting after the raven toward the depths of the forest.

But inside the dimly lit room, you and Sunghoon were far too consumed in each other to notice the creatures of the night flitting past. His lips were on your skin, painting soft, fevered kisses that left your heart racing and your mind spiraling. He was a whirlwind of dark passion, and you were ensnared in his spell. Every time he pulled back to meet your gaze, his red eyes sparkled with love and hunger.

(Feel free to reblog and like! <3)

[yanderenightmare]

i love your hybrid au sm! the way you characterise each animal to suit not only it’s species, but the characters itself is so creative and nothing short of genius! so it got me thinking, how would you imagine the bnha characters as mythical creatures and monsters ??? ( eg. vampires, wendigos, harpies, werewolves ) etc.

Katsuki, Tomura, Hawks, Deku, Shoto, Dabi

TW: implied noncon, yandere, the supernatural?

gn reader

Shigaraki Tomura Ghost

You’ve moved into his old room, and though you furnish it a bit differently than he did when he was still alive, you’ve placed the bed in the exact same spot. It’s been all dust and dead moths up until now, it almost feels like he’s alive again as he sleeps next to your warm body.

It’s only small things in the beginning. Underwear that goes missing, unexplainable handprints on the foggy shower doors, your duvet on the floor even though you’ve never been one to kick it off in your sleep.

You’ve never been one to believe in the paranormal either, but something convinces you to search up the history of the house. You find out a boy had murdered his entire family here—parents, grandparents, his sister—and that the boy himself was never found.

Obviously, you shut your laptop with a bang and try and will it away from your mind. It happened years and years ago—whoever that boy was, he was long since dead. But the more it starts sinking in that you’re not alone, the more your belief feeds him—makes him feel real again, as though you’re slowly bringing him back to life.

Sometimes, you spot him in the mirror of your vanity, but when you twist around, there’s no one there. But you feel him—the gust of cold breath giving you goosebumps, the weight of hands and a chest pressing against yours at night, and the brush of coarse fingertips touching you in places—places that have you moaning his dead name.

Bakugou Katsuki Demonic spirit

He enjoys large houses—preferably something with a bit of history. But every now and again, some moronic humans decide it’s time to wreck the old and build something new—which means he’s often on the move.

He doesn’t mind living alone in his new house until you move in. He’s a little mad at you at first—he thinks you’re one of those wreckers, what with your renovations and whatnot—but then he understands that you’re preserving, not destroying. Apparently, the Gothic manor is your ancestral home built by one of your great-grandparents seven generations back in the 18th century—seems you were the only descendant who felt it was worthwhile to keep. 

He wouldn’t normally stay when someone else moved in—he’d often use his demonic means and scare them on their way. But with you, he settles for dwelling in the shadows, in the many dark rooms you haven’t found a use for yet. But when night comes, and you turn off the lights and go to bed, he can't help but end up in your room—watching you sleep, oh-so-peacefully and blissfully unaware of his presence. But he won’t do anything to you even though he could, even though you make it so easy—he’s grateful to you, his little housemate.

Your bedroom becomes awfully hot at night—you can’t explain it. Nor can you explain why the wind howling through the house sounds more like the groaning breaths of a beast. All you know is that your bed feels heavier than it should if you were the only one in it—and that you don’t dare twist around to see what it is sleeping next to you because whatever it might be, you don’t think it’s human.

You know it isn’t human. It’s too big to be, and its hands are too warm and too rough—and its claws too sharp where they rake into your skin and tuck you close to a chest that feels as though engulfs you. You don’t think it has a heart, only a stomach—and it sounds hungry.

You read up on sleep paralysis demons, and it brings you peace of mind, but only until night comes and you go to bed in wait. It’s the first time he talks to you. His laugh is like rusted clockwork, and his voice is like raked coals—hot and scratchy against your ear as he tells you how your human ways of rationalizing the things you don’t understand are cute and amusing.

Keigo Takami - Hawks Guardian Angel

Being a guardian angel has always been a fun hobby of his ever since the creation—he’s found it to be a nice break from all the other angelic duties he has bearing down his wings. Of course, it’s always sad when your human dies, but luckily, there’s always another one not far behind to steal your halo all over again.

You’re his most recent. He watches over you any minute he can spare, chuckling over all your silly human antics. And though he’s had plenty of humans before you in the long history of man and God, he can’t help but confess you’re his favorite so far. You’re just so cute with your big, adorable eyes and pretty smile.

He begins taking greater pride in his responsibility of being your guardian. He used to see it as but a menial little task he could take to when feeling up for a laugh, but something about you makes him want to watch over you every single second of every day.

And so he does—he has the feathers to spare, especially for something so important. But soon, simply watching over you doesn’t feel like enough anymore.

He knows it’s wrong—so very wrong—so much so he’s afraid he’ll be cast out if anyone were to find out. It’s not right for angels to feel amorous for humans—most would call it deviant and demonic. But he can’t help himself—watching you in your vulnerable state while you undress, bathe, and sleep.

Still, it doesn’t feel like enough.

Maybe he’ll come to visit you one of these days.

Midoriya Izuku - Deku Hybrid between fae and troll

He protects the forest and nurses all sick and wounded animals back to health, writing down the condition of trees and brushes in his notebook as he wanders for hours until he falls asleep in a moss bed beneath the stars. And though he knows his responsibility is purely to the forest, he can’t help but feel inclined to keep an eye on the little human who lives just beyond it. You’re just so cute with the way you walk the forest and sing songs you think no one hears—wearing your human clothing and living in your human abode behind walls and a door. He just finds it absolutely fascinating. 

Sometimes, you feel like there’s something following you when you walk about the forest next to your house. You’ll turn around to see a cluster of rocks and greenery you could have sworn weren’t there when you walked by—you look away before allowing yourself to think the pile looks an awfully lot similar to a larger human’s huddled form. But sometimes you hear it—the sound of stone scraping methodically, as though walking. You don’t humor the thought until you start finding his footprints outside your house, on the path to the forest—feet thrice the size of your own and sunken as though made by something very heavy.

Your legs go out from beneath you once you first see him—not like those times you’d turned around only for him to pretend to be part of the earth—this time, he’s pretending to be more like you, and it only makes it all that much worse. He’s bigger than a bear, grey-skinned with flecks that remind you of freckles and hair like fresh moss sprouts. His eyes are as green as the fox-fire fungi when night falls—glowing with nocturnal light. When you try to run, he follows suit, making the ground shake so bad it knocks you over. 

He carries you into the mountain where he lives and keeps you there from then on. After all, the part of him that’s fae has considered you his pet from the moment you took a bite of your first forest fruit. It was his gift to you whether you knew it or not, and now you’ll belong to him forever.

Todoroki Shoto Vampire

It’s an awfully boring world. Not much to do when you feel you’ve done it all twice over. The taste of blood has become stale no matter how many different types he drowns himself in at night. Sometimes, he humors the thought of setting his manor ablaze if only to watch the fire roar until the sun rears the top of the roof and finally puts him to eternal rest. But he’s been thinking about it for two or more centuries already, and he’s beginning to doubt his nerve.

Dead things can’t make vows, so he must go on as he decided to when he was still alive—that’s the curse—only another person can break it.

You seem doable enough when you stride into his manor with your little sharpened sticks and silver daggers. It’s been a while since a hunter has graced his presence. The scent of holy water makes him lick his fangs, and the nearly irresistible urge to drink you dry almost has him pouncing on you—but he knows it would be but a fleeting high unworth it in the end when he’d have to live another millennium without the warmth of the sun or another soul.

He drops down before you with grace. You have the tip of your silver dagger pointed up under his chin in the same second but get stunted by his pale porcelain face, showing no signs of aggression and rather riddled with a bleak sort of melancholy you’re not used to seeing on the godless creatures.

He simply stands there, straight-spined and high-headed, with his hands folded behind his back as though showing you respect—and then, unprompted and to your great surprise, asks if you would please make it quick and put him out of his misery.

Todoroki Touya - Dabi Hyrbid between incubi and vampire

He preys in nightclubs on those who have that mischievous glint in their eyes in dire hope their lust can match his. Every day, it’s a dozen new—he can never seem to find the right one—always starving and never sated no matter how much he gorges himself, always thirsting, always dying for more. 

Until you.

You’re but a dainty wallflower who doesn’t want to be there, but you have this scent about you—garden-fresh, like something he’s never smelled before, and his tongue yearns for a taste. He knows what it is once he gets closer to you—the opposite of sin of all things, it’s innocence, and oh, how he craves to devour it whole.

His silver tongue has had so much practice that using it on your gullible ears makes him all but drool, asking you if you’d like some fresh air. You nod your head, big eyes looking at him as though he were some sort of saint for offering. He laps it up—it’s all he can do to pace himself. But when he has you alone, it’s all over for you.

He’s going to corrupt every last piece of you until that once peachy keen taste of innocence has become an ever sweeter taste of syrupy sin. He’s going to make you exactly like him—and your tall fall from grace will leave you blasphemous and beautiful.

♡ BOKU NO HERO ACADEMIA masterlist

[silken-moonlight]

Part 4 of your werwolf best friend (Final Part)

A/N: This will be the last part of this short story! I am so glad for everyone who has loved it so far. I hope you enjoy the ending as well! (I am not used to writing happy endings, so I hope this is good.)

Also, a quick question for my next WIP... Do you guys enjoy the "You" in a story more, or would you prefer both characters to be named?

But now, back to the story!

Moon/Swan

______________

The two of you stayed connected because of the knot for a while. From time to time he moved his hips as you tried to catch your breath. Your heart was racing. Suddenly realizing that your best friend just had cum inside of you. While the panic began to settle inside of you, he wrapped his arms around you from behind. Holding you as close as he could anbd placing lazy but tender kisses on your shoulder.

Your mind was racing, what if you'd become pregnant? What if you caught feelings…? Well too late for that, you already felt something much different than friendship for him. Damn that wolf… The fear of him leaving you, he told you werewolves do this casually…does that mean he will ‘just’ continue to be your friend after fucking you out of your own mind?

Suddenly his hand began wandering again and you could feel his cock getting harder again. You moaned, unable to form a sentence as he lazliy contionued to fuck you from behind. You both laid on your side, spooning with cock and knot buried as deep into your hot cunt as it could go. Your breathing got harder when he pinched your nipples while nibbling on your neck.

“You're so silent…” He rasped into your ear. “Do I need to fuck my pretty girl out of her mind?” He asked while licking along your neck. “My mate…” You whimpered when he bit down on your neck, his hips picked up on the pace and he began to fuck his knot deeper into you. You were unable to answer, you felt like on the verge of bursting. There was such pressure on your cervix, but it felt weirdly good and you wanted to feel more. You wanted him to go deeper and to be rougher. When his teeth set your neck free he whispered softly: “I love you, I always did, and now you're all mine…” He was in a haze, your pussy drove him mad, your scent drove him mad….and he just came so deep inside you. He bred you, surely you know must have realized how perfect he is for you..

“You love me?” You asked and a tear escaped your eye. “Always, my knot does not swell for everybody…” He whispered and fucked you faster. “I…i thought you'd leave me after your rut is over…” His laugh was raspy: “I never let you go. I bred you, my mate. I want you, more than physical. I love you "I always did.” It was such a strange situation, you cried of happyness and out of pleasure while he fucked you to your next high. “I love you too..” You answered softly. He cursed and flipped you both over so that you sat on him in reverse cowboy. “Ride me then baby, make us cum.” You whined, leaning forward and arching your back, holding onto his thighs before carefully beginning to ride his cock. You never were on top before, but by all that was holy did it feel good…

“I'm going to breed you baby, you're all mine…” He moaned as he held onto your hips, helping you fuck him better. It took only a few more moments of your hips and both of you trembled under the immense pleasure. Once again the two of you collapsed and this time you were done for. Properly fucked out of your mind and so tired. Your bestfriend, no, lover, held you close and calmed. Both of you fell asleep right then and there….

______________________________

The following six months were very wholesome but incredibly stressful. You lost your job after you both forgot to call in your work. Since the two of you stayed his whole rut together fucking, which was over a week, and you didn't showed up your boss was livid. So you had to get a new job. You moved in with your best friend, quickly falling more in love with him than you thought you could. He was even sweeter now that you were his, endless evenings cuddling, hiking together…,the two of you were inseparable. You talked about the possibility of you getting pregnant…both of you wanted children…so you continued like that, taking the chances. And while he was a werewolf and maybe could smell his period, you told him you were late and that it was normal, it had not been. He had impregnated you.

So one evening you had just put the pregnancy test on his desk, unceremoniously. Just giving it to him while shifting around nervously. He stared at you, then at the test, back at you. Then he began to cry out of happyness, you cried as well. It had been a wonderful moment for the both of you.

And since then your boyfriend has treated you like royalty. Especially since you started showing. You loved being pregnant, despite all the issues coming with it. Often holding your belly.

When his next rut came around he firstly refused to sleep with you, afraid to hurt you. But when the need got too great, he built a nest. A proper nest out of pillows and blankets on your bed and basically worshiped you. He made love to you, placing his hand on your belly, being proud about having bred you. He was obsessed with it, the thought that he did that. That he made you look all this cute. He loved that he had made you glow like that.

Not even speaking about his family and pack who were more than happy. For the last part of your pregnancy you lived with him on pack territory, his pack was loveley.

Honestly you would have never thought this would happen, but you could never have been happier than with your loving -now- husband.

[that-one-malereader-enthusiast]

𝐈𝐧𝐭𝐞𝐫𝐯𝐢𝐞𝐰 𝐖𝐢𝐭𝐡 𝐓𝐡𝐞 𝐕𝐚𝐦𝐩𝐢𝐫𝐞 • 𝐃𝐫𝐚𝐛𝐛𝐥𝐞

╰┈➤ 𝐅𝐮𝐥𝐥 𝐌𝐨𝐨𝐧𝐬 & 𝐂𝐚𝐫𝐧𝐢𝐯𝐨𝐫𝐨𝐮𝐬 𝐀𝐩𝐩𝐞𝐭𝐢𝐭𝐞𝐬

__________________ ׂׂૢ་༘࿐

𝐅𝐓𝐌 𝐋𝐞𝐬𝐭𝐚𝐭 𝐱 𝐖𝐞𝐫𝐞𝐰𝐨𝐥𝐟 𝐌𝐚𝐥𝐞 𝐑𝐞𝐚𝐝𝐞𝐫

𝐋𝐚𝐭𝐞 𝐇𝐚𝐥𝐥𝐨𝐰𝐞𝐞𝐧 𝐒𝐮𝐫𝐩𝐫𝐢𝐬𝐞!

cw : MDNI - ftm Lestat, top male reader, sexual content, nsfw, lycanthrope male reader, oral (giving), AFAB terminology used (such as cunt, clit, ect.) monsterfuckers, mentions of knotting, praises, dry humping, slight service top moment, baby fever, breeding kink, not proof-read.

If vampires could exist, why couldn't werewolves, Lestat thought. When he found you, it was as if looking at a lost dog. Scrappy thing, but brutish. You had no manners, like a mutt out of the ditch. The two of you never met eye to eye, but he helped you deal with the monster that you had almost no control over. What he loved about you is that you took answers from no one. You took what you wanted, when you wanted it. And if you wanted Lestat on the bed with his legs spread, he could barely stop you.

__________________ ׂׂૢ་༘࿐

"You're making a mess down there mon cher, you're dr..drooling all over my legs!" Lestat laughed as you huffed and looked up at him from between his legs. There was slick and saliva dripping down your chin and painted messily on your lips, smeared against your cheeks and dripping down your neck. Your half lidded eyes were hazed with lust, trying to bide your irritation and hunger with the meal between the others legs. "Use your words, those looks could mean anything. You either want me to...shut up so you can continue indulging yourself or—" Lestat almost snorted as you responded with simply curling your arms around his thighs, letting them settle on your shoulders as you 'indulged' as he seemed to speak of.

Your thick tongue practically slobbered against his thighs, nipping every now and then while your leg bounced. You wanted so much more at that moment, but you were trying to wait it out. You were itching to get out of your skin, the presence of the full moon only pressuring your body further. You could feel the itch deep within the marrow of your bones, calling out. It makes your body feel like a furnace, your core even hotter. You could feel your hips rolling into the mattress below as you whined into Lestats' heat, causing him to shudder in response.

"You're such a needy chiot when you wish to be one. I don't know why you restrain yourself so much when I know what goes on in that head of yours." Lestat almost mewled out at the end of his words as your tongue practically circled around his dick, lips suckling against it and sending fire into his own nerves. "Juste là, ma chère, you're so good to me..." He let out an airy breath as his fingers slid into your hair. No matter how many times you cut it, it practically grew longer the next day. But Lestat? He loved running his fingers through your hair and watching you act as if you were touch starved. No, you were touch starved. Leaning into his touch, silently asking for more.

Lestat was the first person, first being, creature — the first to be able to handle your unruliness these nights. When you weren't prowling the streets, out for blood, killing every animal that came into your line of sight and even people if they had the unfortunate timing of appearing in your sights.

You were practically nose deep in Lestats' rather trimmed and neat blonde pubes while your tongue wanted to lap up every inch of his spongy insides. You could barely think straight, heat now radiating off your skin and your mind slowly fogging while Lestat made obscene noises that made your ears prick up. "Need you..Les..."

"You have me mon cher chiot, you..you have me," he shuddered out again before feeling your nails start to dig into his thighs. An animalist whine and whimper left your lips before you could feel the curse starting to carve you from the inside out. Cooking your insides, broiling in your stomach while it broke and wielded your bones back together. It wasn't pretty, it never was. But Lestat was there for it all, the good, the bad, and the ugly.

You let go of him and gripped onto the sheets, finding yourself wanting to curl up and hide from the pain. You could hear his coaxing in the forefront of your mind, trying to tell you he was still there, but lines blurred when you transformed. Your bones snapped and your flesh seemed to tear as fur came in replacement, your bones shifting into place as a deep growl rolled within your chest. The moonlight seemed to peer in through the window, your once normal eyes giving an eerie glow in the darkness, your face no longer humanoid, but instead replaced with a furry snout.

There was blood in your fur, almost coating some, bleeding into the mattress but the other didn't care and neither did you. Your clothes had long since been shed off since the beginning of the transformation, now scattered and torn into pieces.

You shook your head, thoughts jumbled in a bunch. Food. Hunt. Hunger. Prey. Hunger. Mate. Hot. Mark. Mate. Mine. You seemed to stare Lestat down, as if he were a meal of his own, your mawl filling with drool as your now semi bipedal body crouched over him, absolutely looming over his body. "I know you can hear me in there mon cher chiot." Lestat seemed to call out, his core finding more warmth seeing you in such a form.

You growled at him at first, though your eyes seemed to quickly glance down his body. Hungry. Mate. Breed. Mate. Hunger. Hunt. Prey. My mate. You weren't completely dumbed down, but the scent of Lestats' arousal seemed to set you off. It wasn't long before you practically dragged his body down, lifting his entire lower half off the bed before your maw opened.

Lestat didn't fear you'd eat him or even harm him, but he could see much more happening. When you got like this, it was hard to stop you from completely destroying the room trying to fuck him on every surface, especially since you didn't burn out easily during such a moon tranced state.

He could feel your teeth against his pelvis, only putting some pressure down as your tongue took a long lap against his lower lips. Pulling away, you grabbed his thighs and raised them on your shoulders, his entire upper body almost lifted off the bed from the shift of your height.

Lestat cried out and threw his head back the moment he felt your tongue dive into his drenched cunt yet again, reaching places you couldn't quite reach before and more. He could see your unsheathed and throbbing red cock underneath your own body, dripping with arousal and your knot having already appeared. "I suppose I should have fed earlier tonight if I knew I was going to be in here with you till daylight—"

There was a growl, a deep one that sent vibrations deep within Lestat, causing him to find a rather quick orgasm that startled even himself. "I guess this form also does things to me as well mon cher chiot, but it seems your mind is elsewhere." Instead of a response, you simply lapped at his wetness, hips rutting up against the sheets and your mind elsewhere. You wanted to breed him, badly. Make him full of your pups. What you wouldn't give to see Lestat, your Lestat, full and round and plump. Putting him down on your knot, making him yours completely? You began to drool at the thought that ran circles inside your mind.

Maybe you could fill him up tonight after you made him cum on your tongue. Your hunger was only for Lestat tonight, nothing more.

It was better than you constantly having held his hips and grinded up against him with any and every surface, whining and making small grunts rather than communicating with your words what you really wanted. It wasn't your fault that his ass always looked so nice in whatever he wore. Such a nice, grabable ass. All yours for the night.

__________________ ׂׂૢ་༘࿐

[ohsc]

₊˚⊹♡ assistance | sam winchester x reader

a/n - not for kinktober just a fic i wanted to get out!! i’m unsure whether i like the dialogue on this im sorry if it sucks i feel i can never write dirty talk right *sobs* but i really hope you enjoy!!! <3

cws - fem!reader, 2k, nsfw 18+, phone sex, mutual masturbation, kind of softdom!sam, long distance, fluff, comfort, kinda unedited

other fics can be found on my masterlist

˗ˏˋ ★ ˎˊ˗

It was later than he’d liked by the time he finally got back to the motel. With muscles that ached from the day’s strain, brain fogged from how tired he was, Sam honestly just wanted to call his girlfriend and talk to her until he fell asleep.

He’d meant to text her a couple of hours prior to let her know the hunt was dragging on longer than expected, but his phone had fucking died when he and Dean were two hours into their trek into the woods to find the pack of werewolves they were hunting, and he’d been pretty miserable ever since.

Dean had disappeared off to the nearest bar after dropping Sam off at their room so he thankfully had the place to himself to mope around as he plugged his phone into the charger and showered whilst he waited for it to get some power. The shitty water pressure and barely lukewarm water did nothing for his aching back, so he was even more agitated by the time he got himself settled onto the uncomfortable mattress twenty minutes later, hair wet and skin still damp beneath his clothes with his eagerness to call her.

As much as he hated being away from her for so long, and too often, it was the safest thing to do. Sam wouldn't be able to forgive himself if something happened to her because she was too close to his shit. He still had dreams about Jess, about how that was all his fault. He couldn’t let it happen again.

His phone hadn’t even reached twenty percent but he was impatient and shuffled over to the edge of the bed so the phone cord would reach and held the phone to his ear as he called her, propped himself up against the headboard.

The phone didn’t even ring twice before she answered.

“Sam?”

“Hey, baby.” The words came out in an exhale, most of the tension left him just at the sound of her voice, the ache seeping out of his bones like a relief. It was what kept him sane whenever he was away. Her picture in his wallet, her hair tie on his wrist, her voice in his ear.

“Hi, Sammy. Got worried when you didn’t call on time.”

He winced at the thought. She worried for him, of course she did. Sam understood how horrible it must have felt for her, knowing what he was going off to do. He could only imagine the dread that must’ve curled inside of her whenever he was late calling. Too many things had happened in the past, too many things could still go wrong.

“Sorry, my phone died when we were still out, didn’t get back until way later than I thought,” he groaned, sank down the headboard a little to stretch out on the bed. The agitation still hadn’t quite left him, the stiffness in his muscles prominent. He wanted nothing more than to curl up with her in his arms and he couldn’t have it. “Miss you, honey.”

He could hear the smile in her voice as she responded, “Missed you more. Wish you were here, it’s cold at night without you in bed too.”

He snorted a quiet laugh. “That’s why you miss me?”

“Mhm,” she giggled, though her voice turned a little coy as she murmured, “among other reasons.”

“Yeah?” An automatic smile was curling at his mouth.

Another little giggle through the receiver. He didn’t even need to see her to know that she had that little bashful smile on her face. He also knew exactly what was on her mind, it was on his too.

It wasn’t the first time they’d have done this. He was on the road so often that their sex life wasn’t as amazing as it could have been, and it wasn’t like he didn’t pleasure himself when he was away on hunts anyways.

There had been many many evenings he’d spent in the shower, hot water rolling down his back as he had one hand pressed to the tiled wall whilst the other pumped his cock until his cum was washed down the drain along with his shampoo bubbles. It wasn’t ideal — bottom lip tucked between his teeth to stifle the heaving breaths and quiet groans, trying to get off as fast as he could before the hot water could run out or Dean could get back to the room. It was even worse when it became a result of having her on the phone. There had been many occasions where her soft voice and giggles in his ear had been enough to get him hard, on nights when he was really missing her and it had just been too long since he’d kissed her.

It turned out she did the same as him. Though when Sam pictured it, it was a lot more graceful than his time in the shower. Laid out all pretty on their bed, legs spread, fingers wet with her own arousal as her head tipped back against the pillows. Sometimes if he got a little selfish he pictured her voice all whimpery saying his name as she came, but he couldn’t get lost in that daydream often, or he’d get hard over that, too.

“Miss you,” she breathed again, and the shift in her tone was palpable. “I… I tried touching myself earlier but I couldn’t cum without you on the phone.”

The groan that left him was automatic and his cock throbbed, hardening beneath the material of his boxers. The idea that she couldn’t even get off without his voice in her ear did wonders for him, it was a wonder his ego wasn’t too big already.

“You need my help, honey?” He crooned into the phone, settled into the tone of voice he knew she liked to hear, the voice he used more often than not when he was whispering in her ear, hips slotted between her thighs, rolling in a rhythm that left her whiney and panting.

Her soft little “mhm” was enough for him to move his other hand down and palm himself, hissing in a breath through his teeth.

“Go ahead and lay down for me, pretty girl. Wanna tell me what you’re wearing?”

There was the rustling of sheets over the phone before her voice spoke up again, “Just one of your shirts.”

Another groan. “You trying to kill me, baby?”

She giggled and his cock twitched beneath his palm. Jesus Christ he needed to get back to her, he needed her in person, to sate the need that wouldn’t be doused thoroughly enough over the phone.

“Go ahead and spread your legs for me, sweetheart,” he breathed, palming his cock again as he spoke, eyes squeezing shut as his head knocked back against the headboard. “Did you get yourself all worked up earlier, hm? Are you all soaked already?”

There was another hum, though he could hear the way her breathing had deepened, deep and heavy in his ear. He could picture the tickle of her breath on his face, the shape of her lips, the taste of her mouth after she’d just brushed her teeth. He needed her.

“Why don’t you start touching yourself for me?” He murmured, voice low with his arousal. Her resounding moan was enough for his cock to throb again and his hand finally dipped beneath his waistband, freeing himself with a quiet groan.

“Are you touching yourself too?” She whimpered, and it was a miracle he didn’t just cum there and then.

“Yeah,” his hand lifted and he tipped his head down to spit into his palm, groaning softly the next time he pumped his cock. “Yeah I am, dolly. Your pretty voice got me all worked up— fuck.” He breathed out the word between his teeth. He was already leaking pre-cum, thumbing over the head of his cock in a move that made him shudder, though it felt nice when she did it. Stroked his cock with her pretty hands, her pretty lips that wrapped around his head when she was on her knees for him, licking along the length of his dick in a way that always made him weak in the knees.

She moaned again and his hips jerked, rutting into his hand with a filthy groan. “How’re you feeling, honey?”

She whimpered, and Sam felt another dribble of pre-cum slide down the length of his cock. “Good— mm, good, j’st—” she took in a shaky breath, “feels better when it’s you, baby.”

“Oh yeah?” He grunted, pumping his cock just a little faster. “Why’s that, dolly?”

“Bigger hands,” she breathed. “longer fingers.”

Sam moaned, the idea of his fingers nestled deep in her wet heat enough for his cock to throb in his hand, and he knew he wouldn’t last long. But from the sounds of her pretty little whimpers, neither would she. “Can’t fill that pretty pussy up as nice as I can, hm?” He took in a shuddering breath. “Play with your clit for me, sweetheart.”

He could hear the moment she did, the sharp inhale, the whimpery moan, the rustling of the sheets as she, undoubtedly, spread her legs wider. “Oh god, Sammy—”

“Are you close, sweetheart?”

All he got in response was a high-pitched “uh-huh.”

“That’s it— shit, that’s it, baby,” he panted, pumping his cock faster, moaning softly as his head arched back. “Go on, dolly, make some pretty sounds for me as you cum, won’t you? M’gonna cum just thinking about you making such a mess of yourself, c’mon, baby—” he was practically begging between sharp breaths.

It only took a moment before he heard her sharp inhale and the whine that followed, and all it took was a few more quick ruts into his hand and the sounds of her before he groaned her name, toes curled and eyelids scrunched as he came. He could feel the evidence of his orgasm dribbling down his cock and his fingers as he shucked a few more times, hissing through his teeth as he finally stopped.

“Oh sweetheart,” he breathed, panting, not unlike her heavy breaths into the phone. “You sounded so fucking pretty, honey. That feel good for you?”

She took a shuddery breath and hummed again. “Yeah, thanks baby.”

Sam couldn’t help the breathy chuckle. “Don’t need to thank me,” he murmured. “M’always gonna take care of my girl, even if I’m not there. You made quite a mess of me, too.”

She breathed a laugh, and a moment passed of just their shared breathing as they both calmed down. Sam’s cock had softened completely against his abdomen, and he’d have to change his clothes and have another shower, but fuck was it worth it.

“I’ll be on my way back to you tomorrow,” he promised once his breathing had mostly evened out. “Should be with you before dinner, then you get me all to yourself.”

She yawned into the phone before mumbling, “Good, want you back to me as soon as possible.”

The sound of her so sleepy just left him so soft. “I promise I will be,” he breathed. “Why don’t you get some sleep, okay honey? I’ll call you in the morning when we’re on the road.”

“Okay,” her voice had completely softened, coated in a sickly-sweet fondness that left him putty in her hands. “I love you. Get back to me safe, okay?”

“I always do,” Sam smiled. “I love you too. Night, gorgeous.”

She yawned her own goodbye before the line went dead, and he let the phone drop back down onto the mattress with a heavy breath.

Just one more day, then he could have her in person, help her in all the ways he wanted to on the phone.

[werecreature-addicted]

Ooooooh, I saw something about a werewolf leader of his pack who fucks his wife in front of the other werewolves since it is a tradition or something like that that the pack leader has to comply with, imagine that this rule must be followed until the The werewolf's wife becomes pregnant, that is, the werewolf must fuck his wife in front of his pack until she becomes pregnant and once she becomes pregnant they can have private sex, but the rule must be followed, and the werewolf must prove that he is able to please his wife and leave his seed in her in front of his pack, enjoying making his wife climax in front of everyone 😌

A part one for those interested here

Somehow you get used to having a small crowd watch you get fucked every night. What seemed like such an earth-shattering idea eventually just became the new norm. Which isn't to say that it isn't still... arousing. It's just not as mortifying as it once was.

You find yourself putting on a little more of a show for the crowd, it's only the breeding that the pack needs to bear witness to, but you revel in the pleasure of lovemaking too, and your wolf absolutely brings you pleasure.

He savors the taste of your pussy on his thick wolf tongue and always takes his time. He loves eating you out, even if other werewolves are jeering, telling him to just fuck you already so everyone can go home.

Your Alpha will settle you in his lap with your back pressed to his chest. "give em a good show, pretty" he instructs as you start riding him, taking his cock as best as you can. and you do try to put on a show. moaning loudly, making sure to arch your back and rub your clit in the sexiest possible way.

Your husband grabs your jaw and makes you look at the crowd. "Look how much they want you, look how jealous they are that they don't get to fuck your sweet pussy-Mine," he growls as he pushes his knot up into you. Even if he has to share your private time with the whole pack that doesn't mean you aren't solely his.

[trumpkinhotboy]

Little critters

Pairing: paul lahote x fem!reader

Type: requested

Warnings: nothing, pure fluff!!

Word count: approx 800

Requests: open! for twilight wolfpack, narnia and heartstopper

A/n: loved loved this request it's so cute and I think the vibes are adorable hehe seeing sam being so soft for emily🥺 so thank you again for this nice request I always love writing for you guys

"Aren't you the most adorable little creatures I have ever seen?" "You're so cute. I want to keep you forever!"

Passersby probably took Emily and you for some deranged ladies when they saw you crouched in an alley, apparently talking to the ground.

But they couldn't see the adorable little balls of fur meowing back at you with impressive intelligence lighting their eyes. You were leaving the grocery store when you had heard plaintiff meowing sounds and discovered kittens shivering in an old cardboard box.

There was two of them, a fiery black one, who hissed when you first came close, and a grey one who immediately approached you, looking for pets. It had been 10 minutes, and since then, you had dug in your bags to give them water and food. By the way they devoured the bit of ham you gave them, you knew they had been there for a while.

"We can't leave them here," sighed Emily as she petted the black cat on her thighs. The grumpy cat had seemed to take a liking to her incredibly quickly.

"But where can we bring them? I'm scared if we leave them at the pound, they'll be forgotten," you pondered while delicately petting the gray head of the little critter bundled up in your lap.

As if you had just communicated telepathically, you and Emily looked up with a knowing light in your eyes.

Without having a plan, you brought the kittens back to Emily's to give them proper shelter and a long-awaited bath.

The four of you were now on the couch, extenuated after this eventful day. Junior and Paulie, the names you had settled on because of their resemblances with your boyfriends, were sprawled before the fire.

You had just started preparing dinner when you heard familiar howls from the forest. Seconds later, the seven members of the pack entered the cabin. Distracted by the smell of food, they didn't seem to notice the new presence of the two fur balls. Sam immediately headed for Emily to hug her and kiss her cheek. You smiled at the happy couple as you felt a pair of warm hands grab your hips. You smiled and melted into the muscular arms wrapped around your figure.

"Hey, you." "Hey," you answered, a smile in your voice. "What have you been up to?" he sweetly asked.

You tensed at his question, your eyes immediately finding Emily's. Through all your excitement, you didn't have a plan on how to tell seven werewolves you were planning on keeping two kittens.

"Well, actually, it's pretty funny," you started as you turned to face your boyfriend's suspicious expression. You tried delaying your explanation when you heard Seth's excited scream.

"Oh my god! Where do those kittens come from?! They're so adorable!!" he cooed before dropping on his tummy to try and pet them.

"Kittens?!" exclaimed Sam with a questioning look at Emily.

The pack gathered in the living room, observing the two cats, unbothered as ever, lying in front of the fire.

"We found them across the grocery store. We couldn't leave them there to fend for themselves!" explained Emily as she walked to little Sam Junior. The antisocial cat lifted a heavy eyelid at the disruption of his nap, only to meow and lift his head in search of pets when he noticed who it was. She grabbed the kitten in her hands, bringing him close to her chest with an adoring smile. The little beast softly purred in her arms. It was impossible to deny the special bond they already shared.

You looked at Sam with a glimmer of hope. The look he gave Emily as he saw how happy she was told you everything you needed to know.

"What's his name?" he asked with a defeated sigh as he neared the pair. The little kitten carefully sniffed his hand before allowing him to scratch his head.

"Actually," Emily looked at you with a conniving smile. "With his black fur and protective instinct, he made me think of you, I thought we could call him Sam Junior."

Your little crowd chuckled at the name and the resemblance between the two.

"Junior, eh? Sounds about right." He smiled softly. Whenever Emily was concerned, Sam was as docile as the cat in her arms.

Suddenly, a soft nudge on your shins surprised you. You looked down to realize it was the gray kitten. You felt your heart melt at the display of affection and lifted him carefully from the floor.

"Oh, don't even think about it," uttered Paul as he noticed how you looked at each other.

You pouted your lower lip, bringing the little kitten next to your cheek. "Please, please, please, please," you pleaded. "His name's Paulie," you added with a cheeky smile.

Your boyfriend looked at you with incredulous eyes.

"I see it, Paul. He looks like you," added Sam with a teasing grin and a lift of his shoulders, as if to say 'You know they've already won bud'

He stayed silent, observing your pouty face and the sleepy kitten in your arms. Before finally saying, "Werewolves with kittens?"

You gave him a little nod. "Yeah, I guess that can work," he conceded with a grin.

[styllwaters]

Hailing from the harsh planet of Ettera, Knights are the only sophont in the Zhagaviit system made of two consciousnesses. ---

At last, here they are! Nearly finished with redesigning every Vivere 44 species. These guys are retconned werewolves which I posted about some time ago. You might have noticed I brought back some space unicorn aspects as well! They've been through so many design changes but I've finally settled on something solid.

More information below!

I'll try to keep this concise. Most of this info is introductory biology.

Knights are the only sophonts living on Ettera, a mostly barren planet where survival is tough. Their civilisation is the least advanced compared to others in Zhagaviit, such as Arrows and Sea Crawlers. They were the third species to be contacted by the ZGC (Zhagaviit Galactic Community) followed by Post Humanity. Knights are known for being hardy, efficient, and motivated.

If it isn't already clear enough, Knights are two species in a symbiotic relationship acting as one individual. Helmets and Hosts have an evolutionary history so intertwined that one cannot survive without the other.

The Helmet is attached to the head of the Host, and will remain there for the rest of their life (unless separation happens - but we'll get into that later). In the relationship, their role is vision and dexterity. Since the Host is effectively blind, it is the Helmet's job to guide them. Their hands are also important, being the Knight's primary manipulators. They played a large part in early tool use. The Helmet lacks a mouth, and receives all its nutrients from the Host through a specialised organ not unlike an umbilical cord.

The Host is essentially the main body of the Knight. Wolflike and mammalian in nature, the Host is the Helmet's mode of transportation. Because they need to eat for two, Hosts are omnivorous and will eat just about anything. Although majority of their diet is comprised of meat, they are capable of digesting plant matter and bones. They are highly skilled and effective hunters.

It is in both party's best interests to assimilate as soon as possible. The Host cannot see without a Helmet, and within a few weeks bonding will become impossible. The stakes are higher for a newborn Helmet, because they cannot feed by themselves and will starve in under a week without a Host or an artificial feeder tube. Prior to first contact with the ZGC, Knights did not have the technology for artificial feeders, and infant death rates were high.

So how do two beings coordinate one body? The fact is that once assimilation occurs, they become one being. The Helmet's brain and the Host's brain are connected by millions of nerves exchanging signals. It's complicated, but the best way to describe the experience would be a 'mutual trance' in which full body coordination is achieved. They have shared interests and intentions. However, a Knight can mentally separate the Helmet and the Host, gaining back individuality; they do this for many reasons, perhaps to discuss something among themselves or simply for company. Yet on the whole, a Knight will spend 80% of their life in this 'trance'.

Both Helmets and Hosts have noticeable sexual dimorphism. Male Helmets are called Pikes, and females are called Guards. Pikes are distinguished by their horn, bold stripes, and more prominent crest spines. Guards lack a horn and have less contrast in their thinner markings.

Female Hosts are called Forts. They are larger than males and have a mane of fur on the back of their necks. Male Hosts, Spires, lack this mane.

In Knight society, individuals are usually referred to based on their combination of Host and Helmet. Since there are four sexes involved, there are four possible combinations.

Guard-spire [female Helmet, male Host]

Pike-fort [male Helmet, female Host]

Guard-fort [female Helmet, female Host]

Pike-spire [male Helmet, male Host]

(Knight languages have their own version of pronouns for each, but in English all are referred to as they/them by default. Of course, each individual has their own preferences. Usually a Knight will refer to themselves as we/us).

____

I'll get into Knight social structure, cultures and more in another post! For now, if you have any questions, feel free to send an ask. Always happy to answer!

[symbiomancy]

be aware wolf —werewolf

—summary: you venture into the woods to hunt for werewolves | 1.5k | AO3 | monster masterlist

—warnings: monster x human, monsterfucking, p in v sex, knotting, creampie, stomach bulge, mounting, outdoor sex, implied voyeurism

It’s a simple cycle. Enter the woods. Keep the local werewolf population under control. Retrieve any animal carcasses you come across in the woods. Make pelts out of said carcasses. Keep them or sell them. Receive payment from the town for your hard work. Pack your things and find the next town with a werewolf problem.

There are quite a few steps, but it’s a simple, straightforward cycle.

You sling your shotgun onto your back and place a hand onto the handgun at your hip. Your other hand rests on the belt of silver bullets around your hips. The ground is dry and this place hasn’t seen rain in weeks. There are no tracks to go off so you settle for scouting tufts of fur.

Something catches in the corner of your eye as you step around a grand oak.

You whip your head to the side and meet the pair of yellow eyes from the distance. It’s late August, and the blessing of the summer solstice only lasts so long. The sun is long gone and the full moon has crested. Darkness creeps around you, the tall trees shielding you from the moon’s glow. A cool breeze caresses your bare arms. You can just about make out the creature’s outline in the shadows. It’s large, maybe about 6 feet tall.

Slowly, you slip the shotgun from your shoulder and raise the barrel in the wolf’s direction. You whistle.

“Here boy,” you call. The pair of eyes blink at you languidly. “C’mere. I got treats for ya.” Indeed, you do; an opened pack of beef jerky in your back pocket. “C’mon, I have a whole pack of you to hunt tonight and I like to be efficient with my time.”

The werewolf rises onto its hind legs. Oh, great, you think, there’s different species in the same genus for these fucks. Perhaps 8 feet tall is more accurate.

You adjust your hold and cock the shotgun.

The werewolf is gone in a blink.

Your pulse picks up and you whirl on your heel, shotgun still raised. These things are fast, always are but they’re also big. How hard is it to shoot one?

The sound of a branch breaking has you whirling around, finger on the trigger to take the shot —

A claw strikes out at you and catches on your belt, ripping it like it’s paper. Your belt and the bullets in their holster disappear from your waist, your pants ripped and a superficial gash in your hip. You lose your footing on a protruding root and fall onto your back, barely keeping your head from slamming against a thick root.

The werewolf drops onto all fours legs, standing over you, its front paws planted on either side of your head. Its warm breath fans against your face, your arms. Its teeth are bared. Saliva dribbles from its maw.

You spare a glance away from its face to assess your situation — maybe there’s a way to roll out from underneath it and scramble towards your shotgun, wherever it landed. Instead, you find yourself staring at its bulbous member, fully erect. It’s long and thick, precum glistening on its tip. You look away, heat flooding to your cheeks and cunt. In your defense, it looked at you first.

You slowly draw your foot back and strike out, hit the beast’s hind leg. It howls in pain and you scramble out from underneath it, roll onto your stomach and stumble upright. Your shotgun is just a few steps to the right.

A heavy weight slams into you from behind and sends you onto the ground. Your jaw collides with the ground and your teeth snap together. You groan, rest your weight on one elbow and place your free hand against your jaw, pressing against the sore muscles. Hot breath fans the back of your exposed neck and something heavy and slick presses against the flesh of your hip. U kick again and scramble forward, your gun just about in reach. Claws swipe at ur body, snag on your shirt and tatter ur barely intact pants.

The cool night air hits your throbbing cunt. You try to ignore it, want to ignore it so bad, to finish the job and go take care of yourself — the werewolf shoves its fanged snout against the back of your neck. You still, heart leaping in your chest. Its heavy member rests on the swell of your ass, hips rocking back and forth, shallow thrusts as if it’s looking for a warm hole. Your pussy clenches at the thought.

It finds that warm hole, pressing its cock against your entrance, just barely breaching it, and you groan. It’s not going to fit but damned if the beast won’t try to make it fit. Maybe it will fit. The wolf grabs your waist — fuck, it’s hand is big enough to nearly wrap around your entire torso — and jerks its hips forward. You gasp as it pushes in all at once, filling you so completely, so deliciously that you nearly see stars. It’s so big and thick, you swear you can feel every vein and ridge of it.

The wolf snarls, beads of saliva dripping onto the back of your neck and thrusts forward shallowly. You struggle onto your knees. It pulls out shallowly and thrusts back in until the bulb at the bottom of its shaft nudges against your pussy.

Heat pools in your stomach as the werewolf drags its cock in and out of your hot cunt. The ridges and veins of his cock feel like bliss, have you gasping for air. Its furry hips connect with yours, the sound of your bodies colliding muffled by his coat. But you’re so wet, every thrust into your sopping cunt is nothing but a wet squelch. It thrusts in without resistance, going in all the way and pulling out with ease. It pushes so deep into you, drags against your walls like nobody ever has. Your thighs are wet, almost shaking at the strain of holding yourself up on all fours.

Your hand slips out from underneath you and your shoulder collides with the ground. The werewolf presses forward — it mounts you, places a clawed hand next to your head for balance and drives in with newfound vigor. The tip of its cock hit so deep in you that you nearly see stars, try to blabber something, something incoherent between ‘no’ and ‘yes’ and ‘more’ and ‘please please please please’. The wolf pistons in and out of our shopping cunt. Its tongue lolls out of its mouth, slobbers onto the back of your neck. The bulb at his crotch nudges against our opening with every thrust and dives slightly in each time. It’s wide and big and you gasp a pitiful sound when it slips into you with a painful stretch. It’s too much and too little at the same time. You try to clench around it.

The werewolf pauses and you want to cry out, beg it to keep going, to bully its way into your pussy until you can take its knot. You’re so full, so full, this thing is everywhere, in your pussy, in your guts, in the back of your throat. All you can manage is a pitiful croak before the beast is back on you again, resting its weight on your back. It picks up the pace, ruthlessly pistoning into you, bullying your throbbing, leaking pussy, rutting his bulb against it, almost stuffing it inside. It places one large clawed hand onto your thigh and pulls it to the side like that will give it more room. Perhaps it does but the stretch of your cunt and your thighs is too overwhelming to not focus on.

You press back against him as much as u can from your contorted position, meet his hips with urs in a frantic attempt to get your release. Your chest heaves as you attempt to match his pace, pressure building in the pit of your stomach. You’re babbling now, you absolutely are, begging for it to push you over the edge and stuff you full. It speeds up as if it understands you, pressing its weight on top you. Your cheek scrapes against the ground and in the corner of your eye, you can make out the bulge in your stomach as the werewolf thrusts in. It’s too much, too good, too deep, rubbing against that spot, knocking the breath from your lungs with every thrust.

You come with a wail, pussy throbbing and clenching around its cock, sucking it back in to keep it there. The wolf howls, head thrown back and buries its knot inside you. Its cock spasms and spills into you. Rope after rope of hot cum coasts your insides until you’re full, and then some. You feel it slide down your thighs, dribble from your pussy. You try to adjust yourself to get a look and clench involuntarily around the beast when you spot the shape of his cock protruding from your stomach.

The cool night air feels pleasant against your heated skin.

You look away from the unholy sight buried in your guts and let your eyes unfocus to bask in your post-orgasmic bliss.

One, two, three, four —

There are at least four pairs of yellow eyes observing you from the darkness.

note: I'm open to hearing about dead batteries!! be as graphic or non-graphic as you'd like:)

banner & divider by @/cafekitsune

[lilaccmilk]

Absolutely loving all this m4m content and now I'm thinking about a really submissive werewolf top that LOVES being called "puppy" by his much shorter human boyfriend. He will put his pleasure aside to just please his human boyfriend because that praise sounds so so good coming from him. Of course he gets rewarded too for being a good boy so his human tells him he can just lay back and relax while he rides his cock. That doesn't last too long though because the werewolf is begging to fuck him properly (and he does).

I LOOOOVE SUBMISSIVE WEREWOLVES (sorry this took soooo long)

The human is always sophisticated and maintained in public. And the werewolf is loud, bold and a troublemaker. He's an absolute softie for his human though. At first the word 'puppy' slipped out on accident, when the human was trying to tease the werewolf. But when the werewolf's eyes widened, pupils dilated and his face reddened, the human realised that his boyfriend liked being called that. Liked that very much.

Fast forward to now that whenever he calls him 'puppy', the werewolf hardens immediately. But no, he doesn't act on that, aiming at the pleasure of his tiny human. He can go for hours trying to get his human to come and earn his praise.

"You've done amazing for me, yeah puppy. Why don't you lay back now? I'll take care of you, yeah?" the beast just whimpers in response to this.

The human slowly sinks on the werewolf's cock, and the wolf lets out the sweetest whimper ever. "Looking so pretty f'me puppy, all laid back and whimpering. You've been a good puppy haven't you?" All the werewolf can do is lay back, basking in the praise of his boyfriend as he rides him.

No matter how many times they have sex, the human always feels that the werewolf's cock stretches him out too much. The pace is slow and this begins to irk the wolf. "Please, let me fuck you? I've been your good puppy haven't I? I've listened to you. Please?" How can the human resist his sweet, sweet boy? He manages to nod and in the blink of an eye is flipped onto his back.

The pace that the werewolf settles on is fast, brutal and relentless. As an instinct, all he can think about is breeding his love, even though it's not possible, but one can try right. He fucks with the intention to breed, and nuzzles into the neck of his mate. "Am I...am I doing good?"he whispers against his neck. The human lets out broken praises the best he can with being fucked so roughly.

He finally stops and pushes his knot in and fills him up. "Let's just stay like this for a while?" The werewolf asks as he spoons his mate from behind, his knot still inside him. "Did I do good?" He asks hopefully, "So, so good puppy. The bestest puppy." The human says tiredly and falls asleep in the arms of his werewolf.

[gumbootillustrations]

UGH I FUCKING FINALLY FINISHED THIS

so yeah, have the divine warriors of the second war of the magi!!

more deets n closeups under the cut :3

aph!! i like to think that although the incarnations of the divine warriors r generally pretty similar, they do have some minor differences. for example, whereas the matron of the first war of the magi (irene) had one of the sets of wings on her head covering her eyes, the matron of the second war (mcd!aphmau) has both of them held back. this is bc whereas irene had lost her humanity (and therefore the ability to connect with mortals), aph hasn't - and, therefore, her eyes are open to the struggles of humanity. additionally, i took a lot of inspiration from honkai impact 3rd for these designs - in aph's case, i was inspired by elysia's herrscher of human: ego battlesuit and how it looks like a wedding dress (which a lot of folks have interpreted as an expression of her love for humanity, which is smth i want to convey w aph).

i think my favourite part of aaron's destroyer form is his seal (the thingy behind his head like a halo). i wanted to rlly play into the whole destroyer/devourer aspect of his abilities and domains, and i thought a black hole would fit perfectly! it also sort of (unintentionally) plays into how i see the dynamic between the matron and the destroyer and how they're both mirrors of each other; whereas the destroyer, well, destroys (and his black hole devours everything in sight), the matron creates and nurtures (seen in how aph's seal is almost like a white hole). i also wanted his armour to look a lot like the armour that shadow knights wear, albeit without all the spikes and spines and whatnot given that he isn't a shadow knight himself (shad's destroyer form from the first war probably looks a lot more similar to traditional shadow knight armour).

i'm lowkey suuper proud of how travis's keeper form turned out (even if i had to go back right at the end n fix it bc i forgot to add his tail 😭). i wanted this form to sort of be a mix between a high mage and a rogue: whereas the keeper embodies knowledge and magick, travis himself is a prankster who relies on cunning and trickery to gain the upper hand on his opponents. as a result, he's the only one who doesn't automatically manifest a weapon when he shifts into this form - instead, i feel like he chooses to rely more on magicks and witchcraft during combat.

katelyn's design was lowkey the hardest to pin down. originally, i wanted to go for something that was suuuper inspired by roman armour and had a copper and teal/turquoise colour scheme, but it wound up feeling too magical girl-ish and i scrapped it. i've retained the roman inspirations, but i headcanon that her flames are so hot they burn blue, so i settled on a blue-and-white colour scheme w some purple elements. i think my favourite part is her gauntlets! i feel like she uses them as an extension of herself/another pair of hands to punch with. the blue elements also lean into menphia's association with the moon - in ashes, ashes, tu'la is based on the roman empire and, as a result, is where werewolves originate from, and with werewolves having such close ties to the moon.... yeah. i'll probably do a post on tu'la later on at some point.

my blorbo

garroth's design is probably the one that's changed the least, but i'll still need to update his ref sheet anyway. i don't know if i conveyed it very well but the sort-of wing-things on his back are slabs of earth that can be shaped into a shield - originally i had him holding a shield but i wanted him to look a bit more divine warrior-ish so i retooled his design.

the boy! i was tossing up between having vylad or dante fill the role of the wanderer, but i settled on dante as i feel like vylad fits better as a sort of weird guide sort of figure within the narrative. plus, i have a real soft spot for dante and wanted him to remain in the limelight a little bit - i love his dynamic with garroth and laurance and i wanted to explore that further. i sort of wanted to play into his whole red-and-blue colour scheme that we see in canon diaries, but bc kul'zak is a nature deity (specifically of the wilderness), i wanted to incorporate some greenery into his design. i hope i've done an okay-ish job here - overall i'm pretty happy tho, but i can't promise that there won't be any tweaks in the future.

this is a redhead laurance propaganda spreading blog and i Refuse to apologise for it. i'd like to think that laurance's original colour scheme is similar to his justiciar form - lots of beautiful reds and golds and oranges to match the flames of his father's forge - but after he comes back from the nether with a Severe fear of fire he switches to the greens and browns that he's known for in canon. eventually he slowly begins to reclaim his fire and returns to the golds and oranges that he's introduced with (haha colour symbolism go brrrrrr).

but yeah. the special interest is special interesting. let me know if u have any questions!

[randomshyperson]

Lacy - Werewolf!Reader x Wanda Maximoff - Kinktober #07

Summary: This Halloween, Wanda receives a surprise visit from her favorite werewolf. The problem is that it's very difficult to keep a crush hidden during mating season.

Warnings: (+18), mutual pining, semi-public, very vague allusions to omega verse, beefy!reader, power!bottom wanda, a bit rough but they are actually sweet to each other, some praising and dirty talk. | Words: 3.144k

A/N-> First, I know nothing about werewolves. It was never my thing growing up (I’m a witch type of person I suppose) but I know about omegaverse stuff and since it’s wolf-based I tried some references from that lore. Also, I was totally thinking about Wednesday's show (and Wenclair ship tbh) when writing the school but you all be free to image whatever you wish. Also, the name is from Olivia Rodrigo’s song, ‘cause it’s such a friends-to-lovers/mutual pining coded lyrics. Good reading folks! 

General Masterlist | Kinktober Collection | AO3 | Wattpad

-&-

The mating season was always the most tiring part of the year.

Even as a child, her days were marked by hard work and running errands - her mother was always very busy with orders, and somehow, the twins were obliged to finish the tasks in record time, so as not to delay the calendars and keep Natalya busy when her customers needed her.

As the largest and most respected apothecary in the country, Natalya Maximoff was also one of the biggest dealers in magical items - and this also included natural suppressants. Her customers wrote to her from all over the world, many famous packs like the Romanoffs or the Howletts only bought her products, and the witch was always very busy at this time of year.

So when their mother told them that she would leave the Maximoff Magical Articles Boutique in their care for two whole days, while she delivered packages around the world, none of them were surprised, as this had been done dozens of times before.

Wanda's indignation stemmed from the fact that her twin brother, as soon as there were no more magical remnants of the portal his mother had conjured to travel through, put on a jacket and told her he was leaving.

"But you can't leave me alone!" Wanda hurried away from the counter. Pietro chuckled, adjusting his hat on his silver hair. Since he had turned 18 last month, he had grown a good few centimeters, and even with her best serious expression, Wanda, who hadn't grown much since she was 15, no longer succeeded in frightening him. That, and well, like his father, Pietro had a bastard heritage of lycanthropy, and with his new skills, he had also gained extreme confidence.

"What, you gonna tell me you're scared of some little wolves?" He sneered, his fangs protruding from his smile. Wanda huffed angrily, her cheeks slightly red. "Don't be silly, Wanda. You're a witch. Nobody's is crazy enough to mess with you."

He tries to pat her on the shoulder, but Wanda pushes a finger against his chest. "I'm not afraid of any wolves, you selfish idiot! Mom says the store is our responsibility. And you're sneaking off to do who knows what! I don't want to spend all night looking after this place on my own. Apart from the season, it's Halloween, and kids go apeshit and-"

"Jesus, Wanda, I'll make it up to you!" He cuts in, already pulling away and ignoring the other girl's protests. "I've got to go, I'm taking Crystal to the movies, then we'll settle up!

"Pietro!" But the call was ignored and the store door was slammed in her face.

Wanda huffed to herself. She could survive a Halloween night, but her brother would owe her a lot if he didn't want to be snitched on. She returned to the counter, texting him another dozen curses before texting to her mother that everything was under control.

And lucky for her, that's how the evening actually went. 

Most of the few customers who showed up were locals, a few sorcerers in need of ingredients, and even a traveling vampire who needed to replenish some reserves for a long trip. Some children also asked for candy, and tired of getting up so often, Wanda decided to leave the jars outside.

It was almost at the end of her shift, when she was ready to close the shop, that a delicious smell wafted into the room. Wanda, who was distracted by the holiday lessons that the institute where she studied always offered when there were short vacations or not, was snapped out of her concentration by the fascinating smell. She looked up just as a figure stumbled into the store, covered by a school uniform hood.

She didn't need you to remove the cap to recognize you, and yet, when your face became visible, Wanda felt her heart unlearn how to beat properly. 

"Good evening?" You looked between the shelves, approaching the cashier, only to hesitate as soon as you saw Wanda. "Oh, h-hi. Uh, is Madame Maximoff around?"

You looked uneasy, adjusting your hair and fiddling with your fingers. Your flushed face must have been due to the walk from the Institute to the store. 

Wanda shook her head as she replied: "She had some orders to place. How can I help you?"

The color of your face deepened, and you couldn't look her in the eye for more than two seconds. "Hmm, I kind of need... suppressants." And it was the turn of Wanda's face to heat up. You continued talking anxiously. "I thought I still had some, but my reservation ran out, and since I'm in the dorm, I wouldn't want to... well, would you have any left? I know it's very short notice but I really need it."

Wanda nodded quickly, equally at a loss for words. You see, if you were any other of her werewolf colleagues, the situation might even be comical. She wasn't like Pietro and didn't make friends very easily, but she shared the same taunting nature. One horny wolf in the store and Wanda would have jokes for the rest of the year. But it was you, her longtime secret crush, emanating a very pleasant scent and in need of something so intimate that Wanda could barely control her own thoughts about what other ways she could help you if there were no other suppressors in the store.

"My mom usually sells everything before the season starts, but I can look in the warehouse to see if we have any leftovers. I'll be right back." She says, smiling softly at your anxious figure.

Wanda has never seen you in heat before; the mating seasons for new wolves begin at the end of puberty, between the ages of sixteen and eighteen, and the vast majority of her werewolf classmates at the Institute return to their packs at this time of year, already matched with their partners in the traditions of the lycanthrope. Wanda only knows about the rituals from her father's family, because each clan, from the Vampires to the witches, is very private about it all. Witches like her mother, who specialize in all kinds of products, are the exceptions.

Wanda tries the storeroom next to the counter, but after a few boxes, she snorts in frustration. Her mother really did sell everything, and she almost reprimanded you for not planning properly. For older, mismatched wolves, being without suppressors could be really dangerous. For you, a new werewolf, it would only be quite painful. It was easier for her to feel sorry. 

And while she tried the last few shelves at the back of the storeroom, you grew even more restless outside. Wanda had no idea how intoxicating the essence of a witch, especially a witch one cared about, was. If you hadn't been so desperate, you would have given up going into the store as soon as you could smell her from around the corner, but then again, your brain wasn't working very rationally right now.

And there was also a scarf on the counter, Wanda's most characteristic item since she had received it as a gift so many years ago. Many of the times you've noticed her, she's worn the item around her neck and it made sense that her scent was so strong in the room, even though she was upstairs.

Your limbs moved by instinct, you didn't have to think much, just let yourself be guided by the urge to exhale that distinctive smell more deeply. 

Your face was pressed against the scarf when Wanda reappeared, and her confused giggle made you jump away mortified.

"Are you all right there?" She ventured, receiving a very quick and embarrassed nod. Wanda chuckled again in amazement, and without caring much about your current condition, she approached. "I looked upstairs, but my mother sold everything, sorry. There's something else you might like to try, maybe a calming potion so you can sleep while... well, this happens to you."

You quickly agree, still embarrassed at being caught. Wanda doesn't mind, if anything, she always found it very entertaining how different you were from the other werewolves she knew; loud and confident to the point of being idiotic. Pietro was a prime example. And if it wasn't for your distinctive stature, she could easily have assumed from your shy and careful personality that you were just an ordinary human, perhaps a mermaid from the way you seemed to bewitch Wanda's attention all to yourself.

"I'm sorry." You mutter suddenly, while she is searching for a sleeping potion on the shelf under the counter. Wanda turns her face up in confusion, but you're looking away. "From the scarf, I know it's... weird. But my body seems to be acting on its own. Just forget about it when we get back to school, okay? I'll be normal when it's over."

"Don't worry, I don't mind." She assured meekly, before finally finding some bottles that could help you and taking them back to the counter. She bit her lip at the way you were panting, and the way your trembling fingers pulled some notes and coins out of your pocket. "You can take these two vials today, and this one in the morning if you're still..."

"Horny'?" You joke, and take Wanda by surprise, but she manages to return the short laugh. Your hands push out the money and she turns away to pack the vials into a small bag. "So, one now and two tomorrow."

Wanda quickly denies it. "No, darling, two now and one tomorrow. Are you... are you sure you're all right? You're sweating-"

"Just give me a minute." You interrupt her with a gasp, the sudden wave of heat catching you completely off guard. The room starts to spin, and for a whole moment, all you can feel is your own arousal and the way you want to touch the witch in front of you. Your body gives way, and your hands force down on the counter, disastrously strong enough for the wood to crack. Wanda jumps in fright, worried, but you grunt quietly. "Shit, I'm really sorry-"

She hurries around the counter, and her soft hands make you jump away. "Hey, it's okay, I just want to help you stand up."

But you gasp in despair, wrenching your body away from her. "Don't touch me, Wanda, for God's sake." You grunt, and if you hadn't sounded so affected, Wanda would have taken offense. Instead, she stands ready to catch you if you lose your balance again, and that's exactly what happens. This time, your weight falls forward, and Wanda's body serves as a barrage. 

Your wolfish weight is almost too much for her, and it doesn't help that your face is buried against her collarbone, and your arms embrace her clumsily. "Hm, so soft." She hears you sigh, as she struggles to drag you over to the reading area of the store's bookshelves, where there's a sofa to put you on. When you fall into the cushions, you look up with dreamy eyes and an easy smile playing on your lips. Wanda gasps softly from exhaustion. 

"Wait here a moment, okay? You feel like you're burning up with a fever. I'll get you some water." She explains, but it doesn't seem like you're listening very much, disconcerting her with the way you're looking at you so discourteously, your pupils dilating. Wanda adjusts a strand of hair, self-conscious under your gaze. "I'll be right back."

She practically runs out of there, and alone, realizing her own hands are trembling as she remembers the sensation of having your body against hers. She shakes her head to push the thought away, you were clearly in a vulnerable moment right now, and Wanda doesn't think she'll survive the shame of being rejected once the heat wears off.

When Wanda returns with the water, she almost drops the glass on the floor. You haven't moved, but you've changed position, limp against the sofa, evidently rubbing yourself down the item as you whimper. 

"Oh, detka, let me help you." Wanda abandons the glass on a shelf, and rushes to your side, kneeling beside the sofa. You gasp in embarrassment, trying to escape her gaze, but Wanda's hands grab your warm face. "Let's go upstairs. I'll make it better." She whispers the invitation, but the thought alone is enough for you to grunt in affection and pull her face towards you. 

It's a hungry kiss, and the position doesn't help. Wanda has to grab your shoulders to keep from falling to the floor and ends up breaking into a giggle when a moment later it's you who's throwing yourself at her, desperately kissing her as if she's going to disappear. 

The lightness disappears quickly. She feels very hot and bothered, especially when your tongue slips into hers as if you already knew exactly how to kiss her, and your hands touch her entire body with determination. Her plea for you to slow down turns into a moan when your knee pushes between her legs.

It's almost primitive the way you seem willing to have her right there on the floor, angrily trying to pull her clothes off while your moans mingle. Wanda's face burns and she struggles to match the kiss, losing that battle all too easily when your palms begin to stimulate her nipples. 

She can feel the wetness begin to bother her through the fabric of her panties, and perhaps, you can smell it too, because you grow more impatient, and begin to murmur disconnected compliments into her skin, your hands reaching down to unzip her pants. Wanda chokes between moans, practically whimpering when your fingers find her so ready. 

You enter her, all at once, without a second thought. You suck on her tongue as she squeezes your fingerprints and soaks your hand. It's dirty and rough, and Wanda couldn't hold back even if she tried. Yet the store door opens, and she has to bite down hard on your shoulder to muffle her own noises.

Whoever the customer is, asking if there's anyone there or if the store is open, Wanda makes sure they don't see her. Her eyes are scarlet, and it's never been harder to do a concealment spell than it is now, with your fingers thrusting inside her as if the world around you hardly mattered. Finally, the customer leaves and her magic plays its part in locking the door before Wanda digs her nails into your back and comes against your fingers.

It's not enough - Nothing seems to be. You continue your movements inside her until Wanda is spasming again, begging for a pause. Your hungry mouth finds its way into her most intimate place then, just to tear more pleasure out of her. She loses count of how many times she comes, on your fingers and tongue, until the whole store smells of sex.

Fuck, she has to move you before Pietro comes back.

It's only when you let her breathe, retreating like a wounded wolf, that Wanda notices the puddle of moisture on your pants. You came at the mere act of watching and touching her. 

"Hey, are you okay, sweetheart?" She coos gently, propping herself up on one elbow now that you're lying on your back, one arm over your face. Your clothes are as torn as theirs, but there are many more marks on her body than on yours. 

You sniffle quietly, and Wanda looks at you with concern. "Why didn't you stop me?" you ask upset, and Wanda stares in shock for a moment. Then, swallowing dryly, she works up the courage:

"You didn't want this?"

But your reaction is to laugh incredulously. "Of course, I wanted it, Wanda! But I'm talking about you. Why didn't you stop me? You're a witch, you could have knocked me down, look at you! You're all purple, and I... God, I can't believe I... hurt you." 

She climbs into your lap before you can despair, ignoring your soft protest and grabbing your crying face. "I haven't stopped you because I've wanted you to since we met." She assures you determinedly, caressing your cheeks. "I'm in love with you, you idiot."

Sniffling softly, you raise hopeful eyes. "Really?"

Wanda smiles, her weight against your chest. "Really." She assures you. "And don't worry about the marks, I... like it rough."

You groan in embarrassment, looking away and amusing her. There's a moment's pause, and then finally: "I like you too."

Wanda bites back a smile. "I got that impression, you know? When you were all whiny on me." 

Your laugh is sincere and shy, and Wanda kisses you as your hands grip her thighs. But before she can deepen it the way she'd like, you break again.

"Thanks for helping with the heat... but I'll take you on a date after this. I promise."

She pulls on your bottom lip with a provocative bite. "I'll charge." She assures you in a naughty whisper, and you sigh contentedly as she presses your hips together. Smooth movements, and you're already seeing stars again. 

Your breathing becomes shorter, and Wanda traces her fingers along your jaw, while her other hand moves down. "I bet you're all warm and tight."

You sigh, closing your eyes and nodding in agreement. Wanda kisses you leisurely, also taking time to slide her fingers into your pants and assess the effects of everything so far. She's not surprised by the immense wetness, but the sensation of sinking into you is overwhelming. She can feel ready for another when she starts to stimulate you and watches you squirm beneath her.

"So good... don't stop..." You moan helplessly, and the grip on her thighs is almost strong enough to hurt. Wanda makes a mental note of how to make you lose control of your strength, before curling her fingers inside you and being rewarded with the sweetest sounds in the world. "W-Wanda!"

She decides she likes it very, very much when you whimper her name like that. She continues her motions a few more times until you come hard on her fingers. Wanda thrusts a few times, before removing them and bringing them to her mouth, sucking them clean while you try to catch a breath. 

Your murmurs are labored, and Wanda kisses your cheek a few times. "Come on upstairs, sweet baby, I'll take care of you." She tries to get up, but your hands steady her on your lap.

It's almost ridiculous how easily you lift the two of you, and Wanda has to hold onto your shoulders, chuckling softly at your uncertain stumbles on the way upstairs. 

She'll have time to look after the store when you fall asleep. Right now, she's more focused on kissing you again.