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#did he just eat blood. he just like me fr.
wispcherry · 10 months
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we don't have time to mourn him or lament the end of the world. grab that limp white boy like a wet noodle and get out of here.
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gojorgeous · 8 months
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"creature of myth."
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pairing: vampire!gojo x fem!human!reader summary: when you receive an offer of marriage from a mysterious wealthy lord, it’s too good a deal for your family to turn down. but nothing could be so perfect... right? content: MDNI (18+  ONLY), dark content, nsfw, gets dubcon/noncon in some spots, yandere behavior from gojo, implied death/k*lling of a character (not reader or gojo), arranged marriage, victorian au, plot that ends with porn lmao, spooky dooky vibes, blood, blood sucking/eating, praise, biting, unprotected sex, creampie, virgin!reader, discussion of virginity, cherry popping, pain, pet names (princess/love), reader is highkey clueless about sex, discussion of masturbation, ideas of masturbation as “sinful”, very minor religious themes, fated “mates”, gojo is highkey insane, coercion and manipulation, like SO much neck kissing, ooc gojo??? (had to alter his character to match a victorian vampire lord LMAO). a/n: PLEASE READ THE CONTENT WARNINGS. THERE IS DARK CONTENT AHEAD. is this a gojo fic or a twilight fic?? Going back to my roots fr fr. straight down to the “SAY IT, SAY IT”. this fic is also way too long my apologies bbs. i hope you like a hefty side of plot with your porn. parts of this fic feel way too cheesy to me but sometimes i eat that up, yk?? this fic was inspired by this amazing work by @rice5x ! and, finally, thank you all for the support on my most recent fics. i'm just getting back into being active on this blog and it's been amazing reading each and every comment/reblog/ask. they genuinely fill me with so much joy. keep them coming hehe. anyway, i hope you enjoy and remember, ALL AGELESS BLOGS WILL BE BLOCKED. credits: dividers by @cafekitsune. banner art by @ndsoda on twitter. wc: 11.6k (sowwy)
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You remember perfectly the way your mother’s jaw dropped when Satoru Gojo proposed to you. You’d never seen the man, and you still hadn’t. He’d asked to marry you via messenger, a simple letter delivered by hand with a list of all the things he’d be willing to pay for your hand. Offers of money, land, protection, connection- anything so long as he got you. You’d thought it was a joke. Your father nearly took a shovel to the head of the poor messenger, thinking the letter was some kind of cruel prank, some sort of targeted disrespect. You’d only started to believe when you really looked- saw the Gojo crest embroidered on the man’s suit, the fine leather of his boots. If it was a prank, somebody had spent a great deal of money and effort to pull it off. 
You’d asked for proof nonetheless, and you’d gotten it. Documents signed and sealed with a well-known waxen crest, gifts that could only have been purchased by a wealthy lord. The one thing you never got was the lord himself. He refused to see you, to come down from his mysterious castle on the hill. It didn’t surprise you. He rarely deemed town worthy of his presence. He had a reputation as a recluse, as a man who only ever liked to see and never be seen. What little glimpses people got of him were usually through the dark window of his carriage. Still, his appearance preceded him. White hair, light eyes… “haunting” said those who had the luck to see him. Those who went to work for the lord tended to return… changed— if they returned at all. 
You accepted, of course. How could you not? You were a peasant family with no status or wealth to your name. The promises Lord Gojo had made would make your parents into aristocrats all on their own. But that left you wondering… why did he want you? You offered him no benefit. If anything, you sullied his bloodline. The question scratched at the back of your mind. It came to you while you ate breakfast, while you washed your clothes, while you weeded in the garden. Some part of you told you that you needed the answer before you ever stepped foot in that castle. You needed that answer, but you’d never get it. 
Your wedding wasn’t even a wedding- just a piece of paper that had already been signed and witnessed, once again delivered by a familiar messenger. You signed at your dining room table and… that was that. You were married. 
Later that night the carriages arrive. Men flood your home, all dressed in blue velvet, the Gojo crest embroidered on their chests. They seem puzzled when you tell them you’ve packed all your belongings into a measly three bags. 
You say a quick goodbye to your parents, drawing them into stiff embraces. You love them, and they love you, but you can’t bear to see their faces as they send you away to a man who couldn’t even show his face for your wedding. 
The carriage ride is somehow longer than you’d thought it would be- apparently, the castle’s size makes it seem deceptively close. The trip is rocky and twisty and altogether unpleasant as you steadily make your way toward the castle gates. By the time you reach them you think you’ve probably dozed in and out of consciousness at least half a dozen times. 
The castle is even more intimidating up close. Spires that swirl into the clouds, sculptures that stare, doors that look more suited to being locked than opened. It’s… terrifying. 
When you finally roll to a stop, you move for the door. When you swing it open you get your fair share of strange looks from your attendants and remember that you should have waited for the footman. Your face heats as you climb out anyway, unwilling to subject yourself to the further humiliation of waiting for assistance. 
Your feet hit gravel and all you can do is stare- up, up, up, to where the castle’s peaks disappear into the fog. When your eye flashes to a window on the east side of the manor you think you see a swaying curtain. You tuck your arms around yourself and shiver, but it’s not from the cold. 
You nearly stumble over your feet on your first step inside. The entrance hall is larger than your former house, with ceilings that stretch so high you can hardly make out the figures on the frescoes that adorn it. Silver and blue drape everywhere, the Gojo family colors. You swallow when you see a chair that is most definitely worth more than your family’s annual income. 
The floors are marble and when your worn heels clack against it, you only feel reminded that you don’t belong here. That question pricks in your mind again as you pass portraits of every Gojo heir to have lived in the last three hundred years. Why me? Why me? Why me? 
Your footman deposits you in your room, a place more lavish than you’ve ever seen. You have a four poster bed with a canopy of blue velvet, a window that overlooks a sprawling estate, and more square footage than you’ve ever dreamed of. 
“Pull this if you need any sort of assistance, ma’am.” 
You turn to see your footman referencing a silver cord at your bedside. You assume it’s one of those contraptions that rings a bell in the servants’ quarters. You try to hide your amazement- you’ve never seen one in real life before. 
You clear your throat and give your most ladylike nod. “Thank you, um-” you pause, your brow furrowing. “I’m sorry, I don’t think I asked your name.” 
Your footman appears stunned to silence, like he’d never expected you to care about his existence, much less his name. He recovers quickly, though, and forces a small smile. “Thomas, ma’am.”
You smile and it’s genuine. “Thank you, Thomas.”He bows and makes a beeline for the door, but you have one more question. “Oh, um, Thomas-” He freezes, turning slowly on his heel to face you. 
“Yes, my lady?” 
You cringe at the title. The sound of it creeps across your skin, foreign and… wrong. Why me? Why me? Why me?
You clear your throat again. “Do you know, um, well-” You shift, trying to word your question properly. “Do you know when I might see the Lord?” 
There is a pause, a moment of tension and silence, and then an answer. “No, my lady.”
Thomas does not stick around for more questioning. The door clicks shut behind him and then you're left with only the sound of retreating footsteps. 
You’re stunned to say the least, mouth still halfway open, more questions on the tip of your tongue. Should you seek him out? Was that proper? Would he come to you? Would he meet you for dinner, perhaps? Surely he would come to your room tonight to… consummate. Would that be the first time you lay eyes on him? When he’s over you? 
You sigh. There’s nothing much to be done about it now. You find your way to the bed and sit down hesitantly. It feels like a crime to rumple such primped and polished cotton. You do it anyway- it’s going to happen sometime, right? You fall back against the mattress and don’t fail to notice how utterly comfortable it is. The silvery patterns on your canopy swirl and bend together. You’re tired. You didn’t sleep much last night, anxious for the morning… and it’s only mid-afternoon now. You had time for a nap, right? Your eyes are closing before you can convince yourself it’s a bad idea and then you’re swept away into a world of warm darkness. 
You wake with a start. Your first thought is that it’s dark now. Your room is pitch black except for the stream of moonlight passing through your stupidly large window. Your mouth feels dry and your skin is cold, like you’ve just woken from a nightmare. If you have, you don’t remember it. Perhaps that’s a blessing. 
You sit up, combing a finger through your hair and laughing pitifully when you realize that you left your shoes on as you slept. You hope Thomas didn’t walk in to find you in yet another unladylike position. A glance at the foot of the bed reveals he might have. Your bags have arrived- all three of them. You eye them with a combination of longing and contempt. They don't match this place. They’re worn and used- everything here is shiny and new. Still, they’re all you have, and all you have left of your life before. All you have left of home. 
You stretch your arms above your head, nearly groaning at the burn in your muscles. The carriage ride did your body no favors and you suspect you’ll be sore for many days to come. 
You rise, no longer content to lie in bed. You’ve had your rest and, from the state of darkness outside, you suspect your new husband might be joining you soon. The thought twists a certain tightness into your gut, but you push it aside. If that was the price you paid for all he gave your family… then you’d pay it gladly. 
You start with candles, finding a box of matches at your bedside. You light every candelabra you can find. The room, the castle, seems so perpetually… black- like it soaks up every ray of light it touches. Even when you’ve finished it doesn’t feel like enough. You make a note to ask Thomas for more in the morning. 
You find a meal, carefully prepared and preserved, on a table near your dresser. Judging by the fact that it’s still warm, you conclude that it can’t be much past mid-evening. You originally intend to pick at the food as you unpack, but one bite has your mouth watering. It is the most delicious thing to ever touch your lips, complete with dessert waiting on the side. You clean your plate before moving onto your bags. 
You lay your clothes out on the bed. A few dresses, riding pants, undergarments, an assortment of ribbons and bows. At one time these items had been the finest things you owned- now you owned a castle. 
You find an armoire that looks like a master sculptor carved its edges and grab a dress, intending to hang it. Instead, your dress hits the floor when you part the doors to find the hangers already full. Your lips part. Luxury dresses of silk and satin line the rack, fading into some that appear more casual outfits of cotton and linen. You stretch a hand out, curious and utterly… amazed. To think your new husband had gone to all the effort… Your hand brushes purple silk and- 
“Do you like them?” 
You screech, jumping to face the voice at your back. It takes a moment for your eyes to find him, leaning casually against one post of your bed. Your breath is stolen for a second time. Snow white hair, piercingly blue eyes, pale soft skin… you know who he is even without looking at his dress, at the air of authority he claims. He’s your husband… and he is the most devastatingly beautiful thing you’ve ever seen. 
He laughs, then, and it’s a warmer sound than you’d thought it would be- rich and full. A sound that seeps into your bones and settles in your soul. 
“Sorry. Didn’t mean to scare you,” he says, but the twinkle in his eyes makes you think that perhaps that’s a lie. 
Your heart pounds and your eyes flash to the door. It’s shut. You didn’t hear it open, nor did you hear it close behind him. You also didn’t hear footsteps, didn’t hear breaths, didn’t hear him. 
He follows your gaze and laughs again, though it sounds a bit… strained? 
“I have a habit of being unintentionally lightfooted. I apologize.” 
Your heart is still pounding but you find it in yourself to have some decorum. You snap your jaw shut and bow your head slightly in respect. “You must be Lord Gojo. Forgive me for my insolence.” 
There’s a beat, and then footsteps– ones you actually hear this time. You clench your jaw when he stops before you and then nearly gasp when he takes your hand and brings it to his lips. 
“Satoru, please,” he winks and you think you might stop breathing. “I am your husband after all.” 
You force yourself to nod, to swallow, to act normal. But how can you in the presence of a man that looks like… that? There’s something too unreal about him, too perfect. It’s almost… unsettling. 
“Of course… Satoru.” 
He straightens and shows you a close-lipped smile that digs a dimple into his left cheek. You have to look away to avoid stumbling over your own feet. 
“So, do you like them?” Your brows furrow- “The dresses,” he clarifies. 
“O-oh.” Your features relax into an easy smile. You turn back to your armoire, running a hand along another gown. You don’t think you’ve ever touched something so… finely made. “I like them very much. I don’t know how to thank you.” 
There’s a little chuckle as you turn to face him again and you have to steel yourself before you meet his eyes. He’s mesmerizing, too mesmerizing. You think you could probably lose yourself in those eyes forever… 
“No need to thank me. If they don’t fit, we’ll call for the seamstress in the morning.” 
You nod softly, still lost to the situation. There’s a beat of silence in which your husband does nothing but… look at you. His eyes roam freely and the hair on your arms stands under his gaze. He traces the lines of your nose and jaw and lingers on your pulse. Can he see just how fast your heart is pounding?
“Did you… get dinner?” It’s a stupid question, you know, but you don’t think you can bear another second of that look he’s giving you. “I fell asleep and found a plate. I hope I didn’t prevent a proper meal…” You trail off. Perhaps you shouldn’t have pointed out your own shortcoming? 
He gives you another smile and you swear he inches just a little closer. “You did no such thing. I’m… perfectly satisfied.” 
You nod, glad that he doesn’t seem upset at the very least. Your lips press together, unsure of what to do or say. You’ve never had a husband before. Wasn’t he supposed to just sort of… put you on the bed and… do it?
Your eyes flit to said bed and your husband must see because he hurries to continue. 
“Well, I’ll see you in the morning then, hm?” His eyes flit to your armoire and back again. “Wear the blue dress with the lace to breakfast, yeah? Been dying to see it on you.” He chuckles like he’s just told some sort of amusing joke.
Your brows furrow. That was… not the topic you’d been expecting. “You’re not…” You feel your cheeks heat and tighten your jaw. “Not staying the night?” 
His lashes lower a fraction and those eyes pierce you again. You don’t think you could move even if you wanted to, even with him prowling closer, each step eating up the space between you. He doesn’t stop until you’re nose to nose and you can feel his breath fanning over your cheeks. It’s cold somehow, chilling, and you shiver. He smirks. 
“Not tonight.” 
His head dips and for a moment you think he’s going to kiss you, but then he’s bypassing your mouth altogether and- his lips connect to your pulse. His mouth is cool, just like his breath, and you shiver uncontrollably under his touch. 
His touch is just a fleeting moment, just a wrinkle in time, and then he’s gone. His footsteps are quiet brushes on the hardwood and the creak of the door even seems tamed in his presence. 
“Goodnight,” is all he says, and then he’s gone. 
You climb into your bed an hour later wondering what in the world just happened. 
~  
You do wear the blue dress to breakfast and you can only gape in the mirror when you realize that it fits perfectly. It has you second-guessing yourself. Had you sent your measurements in advance and forgotten about it? No, you’d only sent a handful of pieces of information to the Lord prior to your marriage and you remembered all of them very clearly. Everything had gone through a messenger, everything had been clear and direct– you would have remembered sending your measurements– you didn’t. So had he just… guessed? 
That seemed impossible with how everything fit you like a glove, but it was the only explanation you had. The only one that made sense. 
When you join Satoru for breakfast it’s in a sitting room as lavishly decorated as the rest of the castle, but perhaps organized to be a bit more… liveable. He has no plate in front of him, only a tin cup that hides the contents of whatever he’s drinking. You assume coffee or juice. Perhaps he’s just not a breakfast person. 
“It fits!” he says. His hands clasp together in front of him and he smiles again, dimples and all. 
You nod and fight the heat that bubbles beneath your cheeks as you take your seat. “Yes, perfectly.”
A plate is set before you and a glance up reveals it’s Thomas serving your breakfast. You smile, hoping for some acknowledgement from him, for a small piece of comfort. Instead, you get his averted gaze and quick retreat. Your brows furrow, but before you can say anything, Satoru is back to speaking. 
“I hope Thomas treated you well yesterday?” 
You glance up, but Satoru’s eyes aren’t on you, they’re on your footman. His smile is bright, but it’s anything but friendly. You fight a shiver. 
You glance at Thomas. He’s perfectly still, perfectly straight, but you think you see a muscle clench in his jaw. You clear your throat. “Y-Yes. Thomas was very helpful.” When Satoru keeps staring the boy down you add, “-and very respectful.” 
That seems to satisfy. Satoru breaks his stare and some of the tension in the air instantly eases. He shoots you another dimpled smile, this one with a little more warmth. “Perfect.” 
There’s a beat and then he’s standing, draining whatever he has in his cup and then straightening his jacket. “Well, I have some work to do. I’ll see you for dinner?” He’s grinning again, like it’s so normal for a man to abandon his bride on their wedding night and then again the morning after. All you can do is nod. He chuckles. “See you then, princess.” And then he’s gone.
~
If this is to be your life you don't know how you will survive it. You spend the day milling about. Through the gardens, through the castle, through the stables. Thomas is never far behind, but any attempt at conversation is nipped in the bud by hit shortness. It’s like he fears coming too close. He’s never closer than a couple paces except when he has to bring you something, only to retreat again as soon as possible. The other servants barely pay you any mind apart from giving you a respectful greeting and then immediately averting their eyes. There is no work to be done, no guests to be had, no parties to plan… and no Satoru. You don’t see your husband once on tour around the grounds. You ask Thomas where his office is only for him to vaguely point out a window in the east tower. You don’t see so much as a ripple in the curtains. 
Dinner comes around at the pace of a snail. When it’s finally time to get dressed a lady’s maid whose name you don’t even catch arrives to help you lace your dress. As soon as your corset is deemed tight enough she’s back out the door with a curtsy. Thomas leads you to the dining room and your eyes roam the whole way. Even after having spent the whole day exploring, there are halls and corridors that you’ve yet to step foot in. 
The dining room is just as gorgeous as the rest of the place– filled with singular items that could feed entire families for years. Somehow, you think you’ve already grown accustomed to such things, since the only thing you truly care to look at is your husband. Satoru’s already seated, but he stands when you enter, looping around the table to pull a chair out for you. 
You give him your most genuine smile, accepting a kiss to your knuckles in greeting before you settle. “How was your day?” you ask as he takes his seat again. 
He chuckles. “Perfectly fine. And how was yours, princess?” Your nose crinkles. That’s the second time he’s called you that. Something about it feels wrong. You’re still getting used to being a lady. Princess feels even worse. 
“It was… good.”
You watch a perfect white brow arch in the candlelight. “Oh? Just good?” You don’t miss the way his eyes flicker to the corner– to Thomas. 
You hurry to elaborate. “Well, I just– I can’t help but feel as if there’s not much… use for me.” Servants flood in, some carrying wine, others carrying trays that hold more food than the both of you could ever possibly consume. 
That brow arches impossibly higher. “Use?” His lips crack into that smile again, but it’s tight this time. Too tight. “You have no use. You only enjoy yourself. Surely Thomas has told you that.” 
A plate of steaming food plops in front of you. Even its heavenly smell can’t quell the sudden dread in your gut. “Of course! Of course he did.” Your stomach twists and you decide that perhaps now is not the time to press the subject. “I’ll just… I’ll try riding tomorrow.” You hate riding, but it’s the first thing that comes to mind. 
Satoru’s smile thaws into something less menacing. “I’m sure you’ll enjoy that.” 
You nod eagerly. “I’m sure I will.” 
You grab your fork, eager for a new subject. From what you can tell, dinner is roast chicken and vegetables, though it’s the luxury version as everything seems to be. The spices are intoxicating and the green beans are even arranged in a pretty little pattern that makes them look too good to eat. You do anyway. The first bite nearly makes you moan, but you chew slowly, delicately, trying not to let your upbringing show.
It’s not until several bites later that you realize you’re the only one eating. A quick glance reveals your husband has no platter, no chicken or green beans. He’s only… watching you. You clear your throat, dabbing at your lips with a napkin. 
“You’re not… eating?”
That permanent smile grows a little wider and you can’t help but feel as if there’s something… menacing about it. “Ate before I came.” 
Your brows furrow. “Oh. Were you on the road?” 
You think you see something wild flash in his eyes. “No.” 
The rest of dinner passes slowly, almost painfully. Satoru doesn’t eat a bite, doesn’t even look enticed. You wonder how that’s possible when it smells like a spice bomb went off in the dining room. 
By the time you’ve cleared your plate you’ve discussed everything from the number of horses in the stables to kinds of crops grown on the estate. It’s comforting to know a little more about your new home, but it’s not enough. 
“Is there a library?” you ask. You’re on dessert now. It’s the best chocolate cake you’ve ever had and it takes everything in you to hold back a moan each time it touches your tongue. 
“Of course.” Your husband’s eyes flicker to Thomas again and you’re honestly starting to fear for the poor footman’s life. Everytime you ask a question it’s like Satoru is angry it hasn’t already been answered. “It’s yours to use as you please.” 
You smile lightly. “Perfect. Thank you.” 
He softens a bit at that. “Is there anything specific you wanted to read about?” 
You shrug. “The estate, I suppose. I should know my home’s history, no?”
His eyes get that wild look again, that sparkle that you know speaks to nothing good. “Oh, absolutely. I have some personal favorites to recommend. I’ll leave them aside for you?” 
You swallow and give him a shallow nod. “That would be perfect. Thank you.” 
He chuckles. “My pleasure.” 
When dessert is finally over, you stand slowly. Satoru’s not far behind you, saying he’ll walk you to your room. Your heart leaps at his words. Will he stay with you tonight? 
He offers you his arm in the hall and your mouth runs dry when you feel the corded muscle beneath his jacket. By the time you reach your room, you’re thinking of tugging him in behind you. His denial to stay with you last night was not only confusing, but… off putting. Nearly offensive. Did he not like how you looked? Did he think something was wrong with you? 
You muster all the courage you possess and force your lips apart. “Will you stay with me tonight?” 
His eyes spark again and you hold your breath. He presses closer. This is it, you think. His lips hover over yours, eyes glimmering in the candlelight. And then he dips his head, his mouth pressing to your pulse. 
“Not tonight,” he whispers– and then he’s gone. 
~
You wake suddenly. It’s the middle of the night, you gather. The light streaming through the window is weak enough to only be that of the moon. 
Your heart is pounding and your skin is slick with sweat despite the chill in your bones. A nightmare, you think. It must have been a nightmare. 
As you settle back into your sheets you swear you see a ripple in the darkness. You close your eyes. If your nightmare is real, you’d rather not see it coming.
~
The library is huge. It’s sprawling and smells of paper and leather and everytime Thomas lights a candle you flinch at the idea that one misplaced spark could end thousands of years of knowledge. 
The books Satoru left you are… perfect. Just what you were looking for. They’re all comprehensive volumes of the history of the estate, many of which reference each other. You’re stunned to see that several are written by very well-known authors of both the past and the present. You knew the Gojo family’s influence reached far, but not that far. You peruse the titles. The Gojos: A History, A History of the Gojo Crest, History of the Gojo Castle, Revisiting the Gojo Family: A Comprehensive History. Altogether you have well over a few thousand pages of information– but there’s one book that doesn’t fit with the rest. It’s relatively unassuming. A black cover with some sort of gold rune etched onto its front. When you flip to the title page it reads “Creatures of Myth and Where To Find Them”. Your brows furrow. You slide it to the side– must have gotten mixed in with the others, you think.
~
You ask Thomas to bring the books to your room. He does. Very respectfully. He sets them on your bedside table and then retreats like a kicked puppy with only a polite goodbye. You sigh. His behavior has only gotten stranger in the past few days. You think the servants’ coldness must have something to do with Satoru, but you can’t figure out why. Had he ordered them to stay away? Why would he? 
You decide it’s a question for another day and dive into your books. You spend hours, days, reading every chapter, page, and word. The pure amount of information is dizzying. Apparently this specific estate had been in the hands of the Gojo family since the eighth century (with several razings and consequential rebuilds). You also learn that Satoru was not only the most wealthy lord on the continent, but the most wealthy man. Even wealthier than the king apparently, though that fact was kept fairly under wraps to protect the crown’s ego. The estimates of your husband’s net worth made your head spin.
Satoru joins you for breakfast and dinner every day. You never see him eat a morsel. It’s… unsettling to say the least. It’s always just that tin cup, filled with something you could never quite see. You develop a pattern of waking in the night, too, with the overwhelming sense that something is watching you. Sometimes you could swear you feel the bed shift as you jerk awake. Each time you simply close your eyes and try your best to slow your heart, convinced your mind is playing tricks on you. 
Your days feel a little more productive with a book in your hands, but you’ve read them all three times over by the time a fortnight has passed. You find yourself packing them up to return to Thomas when a certain black cover catches your attention. You grab it from the pile and settle back into your seat. You’ve nothing better to do, right? 
You flip back the cover, revealing a familiar title. “Creatures of Myth and Where to Find Them”. You don’t recognize the author’s name. A quick scroll through the table of contents reveals nothing particularly interesting, but you pick a random chapter on ghouls and decide to start there. 
It’s fascinating. Nothing about the style is boring and the words fly by. Your silly little myth book is a page turner. By the time you notice the light has started dying you’ve read about ghosts, fairies, werewolves, and goblins– all of which have been a delightful little read. A glance at the clock reveals you have a half hour before dinner. One more chapter, you think. Your eyes skim the title. “Vampires [Vampyr]”. 
You skim the first paragraphs until your eyes settle on a line that catches your eye. 
“Contrary to popular belief, vampires are not always crazed blood-hungry monsters. Many live among humans quite comfortably and are able to avoid detection with a little well-placed effort.” 
You purse your lips. What a… terrifying thought. You skim a little further. 
“A vampire’s key characteristic is, of course, their desire and need to drink human blood as sustenance. However, a vampire can be spotted sooner if one is able to recognize their subtler traits. Vampires often have skin lacking any sort of flush. The lack of blood in their veins results in a sickly pallor, even after the most rigorous exercise. Their skin is also noticeably cold to the touch. At best, a vampire’s body will reach room temperature. Vampires can also be noted for their preternatural beauty. They will stand out as the most attractive person in any crowd. Finally, a vampire will have fangs. If one wishes to identify a vampire, one only needs a good look at their teeth”.
A chill settles over your skin. You flip ahead a few pages. 
“Vampires are unable to consume typical human food. Should they attempt to, their bodies will immediately reject any and all foreign substances.” 
Your stomach drops. You don’t want to think about why. You skip the rest of the paragraph. 
“Vampires possess several supernatural abilities that set them apart as a human’s predator rather than their equal. Vampires are known to move unnaturally fast and are notably light footed. If a vampire does not wish to be heard, they will not be. A vampire’s strength is inhuman, well over ten times that of the average man. They also have a penchant for darkness, an ability to hide away in the shadows that cannot be explained. Oftentimes they will seem to appear from thin air.”
You skip ahead again.
“Vampires have been known to take mates. Mates usually come in the form of another vampire, but in some cases a human has been chosen. Vampires are fiercely protective of their mates, bordering on obsession. Any person deemed a threat to their bond or their mate’s safety is usually disposed of quickly. Oftentimes, vampires make these decisions with haste, with little regard for whether or not the threat was real. A vampire will do everything in their power to please their mate, but have been known to forcibly restrain their mates in situations of unrequited feelings. Above all else, vampires wish to possess their mates. Two bonded vampires will sometimes spiral into gloriously destructive fits in their endless desire to protect and possess one another. A vampire bonded to a human will show an increasingly protective nature, often isolating their mate from others.”
Your heart pounds. A bead of sweat rolls down your back. You flip the pages, desperate– desperate for a piece of information that will save you from the thoughts spilling in your mind, from the thoughts you will do anything not to believe. You reach the “Where to Find Them” subsection and nearly gasp with relief. Surely, vampires do not pose as wealthy lords of Europe? 
“Vampires can be found everywhere. They do not exist in only one country or continent, but all over the world. Odds are that you have faced at least one vampire in your life, unknowingly or not. Some vampires choose to live solitary lives, surviving in the wilderness where human society will not attempt to tame their wild nature. Others choose to live among humans, some even existing in positions of very high authority.” 
No, no, no. This can’t be happening to you. It can’t be real. You’re dreaming, you’re having one of those nightmares again. You’re going to wake up any second. 
“One tale recounts a razing of the Gojo estate in the 12th century.” 
You’re panting, hyperventilating. This isn’t happening. 
“Soldiers of the enemy force recounted a singular man, the son and heir of the then Lord Gojo, taking out a minimum of 800 men. He was described as having his family’s characteristic white hair as well as blue eyes. Eyewitness accounts depict the Gojo heir as covered in blood and killing savagely and with inhuman strength.” 
No, no, no. 
“(See next page for only existing portrait)”
Your fingers tremble but you can’t stop them. There’s no way. It’s not possible. 
You flip the page and Satoru stares back at you. 
Knock! Knock! Knock!
You nearly scream. Your door rattles angrily, but you’re not sure you can answer it, not with the knowledge flooding your mind. The knocking continues. You run your hand over your face and smooth down your hair. You feel frazzled, dirty, despite not having moved from your chair all day. Another knock prompts you to set your book aside and stand. You do your best to compose yourself, to put on a straight face. You fail instantly when you pull back the door not to reveal your faithful attendant, not Thomas, but Satoru. 
You bite back a shriek and instead force a smile. You’re suddenly very aware of the blood pounding in you veins and of the fact that he most likely knows. 
“Hello,” he says, but his voice is lower than usually, more intense. 
You force a breath into your lungs. “Hello,” you answer, but it sounds more like a squeak than a greeting. 
Something flashes in his eyes, something familiar, something that is no longer interesting but rather terrifying. “Are you alright? You seem a little… flushed.” The concern on his face feels anything but genuine. 
“I’m fine,” you answer, but even you can tell that reply too quickly, too eagerly. You rush to cover it up. “Is it time for dinner? Where’s Thomas?” 
His lip twitches and you see a muscle in his jaw flex. “Thomas has… left us.” 
No. This wasn’t happening to you. There was no way this was happening to you. 
“He… what?” There’s an unmistakable wobble in your voice that only causes Satoru’s face to fall further. 
“It’s no matter. He’s gone. Now it’s just you and me, hm?” He chuckles and the sound rattles your bones. “In fact, I was thinking I’d cut down on the number of servants we have entirely…” 
You mind races with the memory of knowledge you wish you didn’t have. “Vampires are fiercely protective of their mates, bordering on obsession. Any person deemed a threat to their bond or their mate’s safety is usually disposed of quickly.”
You nearly stumble, but lean against the doorframe just in time. Your husband had disposed of a man, all because he brought you meals and books?
“What have you been up to today, princess?” The question breaks your trance just in time for you to see your husband’s eyes flicker behind you. 
You wet your lips. “Just some reading.” You plead that he doesn’t ask anything further. He does. 
“About the estate?” he asks. 
You nod and try to swallow the lump in your throat. “Yes.”
His smile returns and this time it’s not forced. “You got my books, then?” 
You try smiling back, but you’re fairly sure it looks more like a grimace. “Yes.”
“Anything interesting?” he presses.
This isn’t happening. This can’t be happening. Does he know? Does he know that you know? “Yes, of course. Lots.” 
He pauses and you see the debate and then the decision in his eyes. You think it’s the first time you’ve felt true terror when he meets your gaze again. “I think we should skip dinner tonight. It seems we have so much to discuss.”
You don’t even have the wherewithal to scream when he steps into you, forcing you back until he’s shutting your door behind him. He doesn’t stop there, though. He keeps pressing, keeps pushing until your knees hit the bed and you’re falling to the mattress. He crawls right after you.
“Who knew my little wife was such a reader? All those books in such a short time… You must be simply spilling with information.” 
You retreat across the mattress, squeaking when your back hits the headboard and his arms cage your waist. You’re trapped.
His hands find your hips and you’re all too aware of how cool his touch is. Even more so when he pulls you right into his lap.
“Satoru-” your voice is pitiful, breathless, and you’re ashamed to say it’s not just from the fear in your gut. He’s never been this close before, never touched you, held you like this. “Thomas-” 
“Don’t speak his name.” His face pulls into the first scowl you’ve ever seen and the sight is enough to root you to the spot. Never have you seen anything more frightening. A creature so beautiful, so perfectly angelic, filled with an insurmountable rage. It’s wrong. “He’s gone. He’ll never bother you again.” He’s closer now, his breath skating over your skin. It’s cool and now you know the reason why. 
You shake and tremble and you know– Thomas is dead. Your husband killed him– killed him for getting too close when all he did was stay at a distance. Satoru killed him. Killed him. 
He buries himself in your neck, his voice a near whine. “Thought I could put up with it, just so you’d have someone to take care of you…” He groans. “I was so wrong, princess. Couldn’t stand it. Couldn’t stand the way you smelled more like him than me…” 
You feel him melt against you then, relief washing over his body in a wave. “But he’s gone. And now it’s just you and me, hm? Just you and me…” He hums, like remembering that fact is all he’s ever needed.
He’s kissing your pulse again, now, and your heart is racing faster than ever. Your fingers curl into his shoulders. You should push him away, away, away. He’s a killer, of thousands no doubt. You’ve never felt at home here, never felt like you belonged. This is why. You’re not even the same species. He’s something else, something your hands were never meant to touch. 
Your mind screams at you to do go, to shove and kick at him and leave this place behind. Go, go, go your gut says… but you don’t. You can’t. It’s too… good. The feeling of his cool lips against your skin, of what you’re sure is his tongue prodding at your pulse… it’s intoxicating. He is intoxicating. How could anyone blame you for wanting more of someone, something, so divine? 
“Have you figured it out yet, love?” Your breath hitches and he chuckles, licking a long stripe up your neck, before he settles back at your pulse. Always your pulse. “I can feel those little gears turning. Tell me, what have they discovered?” 
He knows you know. But he’s going to make you say it. You swallow and feel his grip on you tighten. “You’re…” Your breaths come faster. You can’t. Not aloud. Aloud makes it too… real. 
“Yessss?” he prods. He’s licking at you again, all the way across your throat to find your other pulse-point. 
“You’re not…” Something sharps nicks at your skin and you bite your lip to hold back a whimper. 
“Go on, princess.” You think he’s just smelling you now, just burying his face as close to you as possible and taking you in. 
You close your eyes tightly, holding back tears. “Not human,” you breathe. A piece of you breaks with the admission.
He huffs a little laugh against your skin and pulls back to look you in the eye. “That’s good,” he purrs. “But I think you can be a little more specific, no?” His lips press to your chin, then the corner of your mouth, then down to your jaw… “Tell me.” 
Your lips wobble, muscles clenching tighter with each passing moment. You don’t want to say it, don’t want to speak it into existence, but you also don’t dare to disobey him. 
“You’re a…” You shake and tremble. He draws a line up your neck with the tip of his nose.
“Mhm?” 
You open your eyes, thinking this might be the last time you see. “Vampire.” 
He chuckles and you feel his teeth press to the skin of your neck. “That’s right, princess. So smart.” 
He smiles and you suddenly realize you’ve never seen his teeth before. Everytime he smiles at you it’s close-lipped and dimpled. But this… this is the smile of a predator– all white and pointy and fitted with a set of menacingly long fangs. You sob at the sight. 
“Shhhhh,” he coos. He has your chin in his hand, forcing you to truly look at him, to see him for what he is. “I won’t hurt you, love.” You want to believe him so badly it burns, but his laugh washes away any fire and turns it to ice. “Not unless you want me to.” He wiggles a brow like it’s just a little joke, like he’s not an actual fucking vampire that had his fangs over your neck just moments ago. 
“Satoru,” you beg. You’re not sure what you’re begging for. Release maybe? But, no, that’s not right. You don’t want him to let you go, not when you finally have him close after all this time. “Why did you pick me?” 
The question slips out. You hadn’t even been thinking about it, hadn’t even noticed it scratching at the walls of your mind, but it made its way out nonetheless.
His brow creases, but not in confusion. Moreso in… thoughtfulness. “Do you think about that a lot, princess?” 
You nod and you suddenly want him closer, want him to touch you everywhere, hold you like his life depends on it. You want him, no matter how horrible it might be. 
He nods and hums, kissing the tip of your nose lightly. “Well…” he says. His thumb swipes over your lips when he leans in to whisper in your ear. “At first I wanted you for this.” His head dips to your neck again and you feel the familiar brush of his lips against your throat. “You smell…” he chuckles. “Like heaven. Which is a place I’ll never get to on my own, so I had to bring my own little slice home, no?” He laughs again, a little louder this time, genuinely amused. “Went into town one day and caught your scent on the street. At first I thought I must be walking past the bakery, but, lo and behold, there was no baker in sight.” He’s still kissing at your pulse, worshiping it. “Went crazy, princess. Didn’t think I was going to be able to contain myself when I found you. Thought it might be quite the scene.” He huffs a laugh and you shiver, somehow both terrified and intoxicated. “But then I saw you–” he groans and something clenches deep at your center. “And I knew I needed more than just your blood. Needed you.” He’s rocking into you now, and your breath catches when you feel something firm against your backside. “Went to you in that little room you slept in every night. Watched you. Couldn’t stay away. Knew I had to have you.” You feel him smile against your skin. “After a week I couldn’t take it anymore. Sent you that letter, married you. Made you mine.” He groans again. “Then I met you and you were so pretty, princess. Already knew it, but hearin’ you talk to me, look at me.” Teeth graze your pulse. “Needed you more than ever. Almost took you right on the fucking floor in here while you were lookin’ at those dresses.” You whine when his hips roll into you again. “Oh, but I knew I couldn’t. You’re so fragile, love. Had to wait, had to make you feel safe, yeah? Spent all this time forcing myself to stay away, ‘fraid of what I might too if I was in your presence too long. Had to control myself. Had to make you realize you could trust me.” He panting, like he’s so pent up he can hardly sit still. “Do you trust me, princess?” 
Your brows scrunch. Say no, say no, say no a part of you screams. Run, run, run. You can’t. “Yes,” you breathe. 
You feel him smile again, feel the pleasure of submission. “Good girl.” 
You’re on your back. It happens so fast your eyes don’t even have time to gasp. You don’t see Satoru, but you feel him. Everywhere. His hands are roaming your body softly, sliding under buttons and laces and popping them off. Your dress loosens with every passing moment until Satoru reappears above you, diving straight for your neck again. “So good, princess. Let’s get you out of this dress, yeah?” 
You nod wordlessly, entranced. He finds your mouth as he rids you of your clothes. His tongue presses in and you flail against him, unsure of what to do, of how to handle the intrusion. The kiss is heavy, too heavy, but Satoru can’t seem to stop. He devours you as he gives up on laces and buttons and simply shreds your dress down the back. You tremble when the cold air hits your skin, when his cool fingers dust your collarbone. 
“I always forget how many damn layers they make you ladies wear,” he chuckles. His hands run beneath your shift, up across your bare thigh. You gasp at the touch. No one has even been so close to you before. You feel the threads of your corset snapping away, feel your breaths growing deeper. You tremble when he pulls your sleeve down past your shoulder and runs his mouth along the newly exposed skin. 
“Satoru,” you gasp, and your hand pulls at his flowing white shirt. 
He chuckles, pulling back just enough to see your face. “You wanna see me too?” You nod, lips parted and eyes glassy, and he laughs again. He lips dust over the corner of your mouth. “Alright.” 
His hands shift from you to himself, working at the laces on his chest. His movements are speedy, practiced, like he’s been lacing and unlacing shirts for hundreds of years. Your throat tightens when you realize that he has. 
You gasp when he reveals himself, when his shirt slides away to reveal an expanse of pale skin and carved muscle. You’ve never seen a man like this and seeing one this close up for the first time is nearly blinding. He’s art, you think- nothing less. 
“Touch me, princess,” he says. You can’t. You shouldn’t. He’s too beautiful, too perfect to be beneath your insignificant hands. “Need a little help?” he asks, and there’s a lilt in his voice that makes you sure he’s grinning. 
His hands find yours and bring them to his chest, running your palms over his collarbones, his pecs, down, down, down across his abs that you can feel each and every one… You whimper, watching your own fingers grope his skin. He pulls you lower, lower, lower, and you gasp when your fingertips brush the waistband of his pants. But then he’s laughing again and he’s throwing your arms over his shoulders and pulling you closer, kissing your neck like it pained him to be parted from your pulse for so long. 
“Not so fast,” he says, like he wasn’t the one nearly stuffing your hands down his pants. His hands are on your corset again. You can feel it dangling onto you by a thread, literally. All he needs is a couple more pulls and you’ll be bare. By the look he gives you, you can tell he’s 
thinking the same thing. “You touch me, now I touch you, yeah?” There’s a tug and a tear and then so much… cold. You’ve never realized how cold this castle is, not until you’re exposed to its elements fully. You’re naked. 
Satoru sits back on his knees and just watches. His gaze is searing, burning, despite the iciness of his being. It’s too much. Your hands move to cover yourself, to maintain some modicum of your dignity- 
“No.” Strong hands find your wrists and pry them apart. “Let me see you,” he says. His tongue darts out to lick his lips. 
Your jaw clenches and your frame shakes, but you do as he asks, letting your hands fall limply at your sides. There’s silence for many more moments and it seems to go on so long that you can only squeeze your eyes shut under his gaze. Surely he will turn you away now, get up and leave, tell you this was a mistake, tell you that you’re– 
“Beautiful,” he breathes. Your eyes snap open to find him already staring at you. “Beautiful,” he says again, and then he’s on you, lips at your pulse, hands on your skin. His touch is cool and you squeak at the chill that runs up your spine. You’re not sure it’s entirely from his temperature. 
His mouth seeks yours and he devours you. You feel as if he’s sucking your soul out through your lips. “Tell me you’ve never done this before,” he begs. “Tell me I’m the first to touch you.” 
You whine against his mouth, both aching for more and overwhelmed by what he’s already giving you. “Y-You’re the first,” you whisper. 
His groan is deep, primal. It rattles through your chest and you whimper when his hands dig into your waist hard enough to bruise. “Yes,” he breathes, and you shiver again. “Lie back, princess.” Your eyes widen, with anticipation or fear you’re not sure. Probably both. He chuckles. “Don’t worry. I’ll be gentle.” 
You pray he means that. “Just relax, love. Here, hold my hand.” His fingers find yours, twining them together. When you swallow, his eyes follow the bob of your throat. He leans back again and your body twitches when his free hand skims the skin of your thighs. His tongue darts out to wet his lips as he finds your knees and you gasp when he parts your legs, revealing you so completely to his gaze. The way he stares, like he’s committing you to memory, it’s nearly enough to make you snap your thighs shut, but a squeeze from his hand reminds you to relax, to trust. 
His palm skates up your thigh and settles near your hip, his fingertips inching closer to where you can feel an embarrassing throb. 
“Tell me, love. Have you ever touched yourself here?” His fingers dust low on your tummy- just low enough for you to catch his meaning, but not low enough to give you any relief. Your face heats and your teeth dig into the flesh of your cheek. You have, you have touched yourself there, but it’s the last thing you want to admit to your new husband. It’s shameful, it’s dirty, it’s- “Don’t think I’ll judge you, princess. Just wanna know.” 
You gulp down a breath. You should come clean. “Y-yes,” you stutter, and the sound of your voice so weak and helpless only makes you flush further. 
He chuckles and squeezes your hand again. ��On the outside or the inside?” 
Your eyes widen. I-inside? You’d never considered that… “J-just the outside,” you answer. 
Your eyes grow even wider when his head rolls back and he moans straight up to the ceiling like your answer is heaven-sent. When he looks back to you his fangs are on full display. “Well, I think you and I are in for a little treat today, hm?” 
Your brow furrows and your lips part to ask him what he means– his fingers travel those last few inches down your tummy and find your clit. You squeak and jolt so violently that he presses a hand to your hip, holding you to the mattress. “Somebody’s sensitive,” he chuckles. He holds you still for a moment and then lets your hips go free. “Try to stay still. I promise it’ll feel good.”
You nod hopelessly, but this time you’re prepared for when he touches you again. Your muscles clench at the first touch, at the foreign sensation of a touch down there that wasn’t your own. But then it’s more. It’s languid, slow circles around a spot that you’ve never been able to pinpoint so well on your own. It’s heat building in your tummy that seeps through every vein and into every pore. It’s relaxation that you’ve never known, that has you melting into the mattress despite the chill of the touch. 
There’s a little huff of a laugh and then his voice. “Good girl. Feels nice, yeah?” You nod hesitantly and squeeze desperately at his hand, searching for an anchor. His head cocks to the side and you watch the smile slide across his lips. “It’s about to feel even nicer.” 
By the time you realize what he’s doing it’s far too late to stop him. His mouth closes around your cunt and you yelp, trying to wiggle away from the overwhelming sensation- but he’s got his freehand on your hip again and his grip is bruising, punishing, as he holds you in place. He licks a stripe through your folds and you find yourself jolting again, uselessly so against the pressure of his palm on your hip. “Stop that, princess.” Your heart drops at the admonishment until you feel his guiding touch. “Rock into me like this.” His hand rocks your hips into his mouth and the pressure of his tongue against your clit is so delicious that you whimper. “Good girl,” he says and your heart rises right back up. “Keep doing that, now.” You don’t dare defy him. You rock like he showed you, a little jerkily at first, and then you find a rhythm that has you seeing stars. “That’s it, love,” he says, and the sound is muffled against your cunt. “Here, put your hand in my hair.” He finds your wrist and guides you forward until your fingers are tangling in those snowy locks. They’re even softer than you’d imagined. “Good girl,” he whispers and suddenly he’s taking one last long lick and lifting his head to meet your eyes. “‘M gonna put my fingers in you now, princess.” Your chin wobbles. “It might hurt a little bit, but stay still, okay?” You can’t do anything but nod. 
His eyes return to your cunt and you can feel him prodding at your entrance, circling the hole as you clench in anticipation. “Relaaaaaax, love,” he says and you nod. A deep breath in through your nose and out through your mouth– 
You feel the exact moment he pushes into you and a whine of pain rips from your throat. Your walls clamp down like a vice, angry at the intrusion– but it’s already too late. There’s a beat of silence, of anticipation, and then he’s– laughing? 
Your brows furrow when you hear it, your head lifting to a sight that locks your limbs in shock. Satoru’s hand is lifted in front of his face, his pointer finger coated in– blood, you realize. Your blood. And he’s a fucking vampire. 
“Oh princess,” he coos, and the manic look in his eyes makes you tremble. “You really are perfect.” 
Things seem to slow as you watch him take his blood covered finger into his mouth. You’re sure you’ve never seen an expression more blissful, more lost to sensation. His eyes roll back and his body shivers, like he’s ascending to some higher plane. Maybe he is. 
When he pulls his finger from his mouth it’s completely licked clean. You hold your breath. He’s going to go for your neck now, right? He’s had a taste and now he’ll want more of it, all of it?
“Fuck,” is all he says. His mouth is back on your cunt so fast you don’t even see him move. 
Your mouth falls wide. It hurts, the way he is so desperately licking at you. You feel his finger again, pressing in, in, in, only to pull back and suddenly be joined by another. The stretch tears at you. You thrash and jolt, but Satoru doesn’t bother telling you to stop this time. His arm wraps over your hips, holding you in place. He seems immune to how hard your legs squeeze at his head or your hands pull at his hair. He’s lost. You can feel him licking, lapping, and prodding at you like you’re a fucking gold mine. He’s lost to desperation, to the need for more, more, more. Every so often he lifts his chin and you see his mouth smudged with a mixture of your wetness and your blood. He laps at his lips like an animal, dragging his thumb across his chin and sliding it into his mouth to make sure he gets every last drop. 
You’re not quite sure when the ravenous pain turns to a ravenous pleasure, when it turns from terrifying to downright delicious. You don’t notice your moans filling the air until Satoru joins you, groaning and whining into your cunt and telling you to keep going, to keep making those sounds. The hand you have buried in his hair doesn’t fight to push him away any longer, only to pull him into those now practiced rocks of your hips. His fingers thrust deep, curling into a spot that makes you feel so good and his mouth has found your clit again. He sucks your nerves lightly between his lips, tongue swirling in little circles. Your thighs start to shake. 
“Yes. Yes. Give it to me.” 
“S-Satoru–” you breathe. Warmth and tightness pool in your tummy, and you recognize it as your approaching orgasm, though you know this one will be far different than any you’ve ever managed to give yourself. Your body shakes and your breaths tremble and then– you fall over the edge, rocking your hips senselessly, losing all form of rhythm. Warmth tingles in your spine and seeps all the way down to your toes. You think you cry out, cry for your husband, cry for more, cry for less, but if you do you don’t hear it. All you hear is the pounding of your pulse, of pleasure throbbing in your veins until the world slowly seeps back in through the corners of your vision. 
Satoru is grinning. A speck of your blood clings to his chin and his fangs peek out from behind his lips. The sight makes your blood run a little colder. If any part of you doubted what he was before… well, there was no doubt any longer. 
There’s a shift between your legs, his hips slotting between them, and you’re suddenly snapped back to reality. From the look in his eyes, you’re not done. 
Frantic hands find his pants and he undoes each button with a quickness that is almost inhuman. You wonder if he could go even faster, if he’s holding back so as not to scare you. If he is, it isn’t working very well. Fear surges in your veins right alongside anticipation. 
“S-Satoru–”
“It’s alright, love.” His hand finds yours without his eyes ever looking up. His grip is just a little too firm, a little too cold. “Just stay still.” 
You whimper, but you don’t think he’s paying attention to that, and soon enough, neither are you. His pants slide down just past his hips, just enough. You gasp. 
You’ve never seen a man in the nude, never even dared to think about what it might look like, though it seemed you no longer had to guess. His hand wrapped around his shaft, giving one long and slow stroke that made his breath hiss through his fangs. The tip was flushed, angry, and leaking something that looked clear and sticky. You couldn’t help but notice it was a lot thicker than a finger, or even two. If his fingers had hurt…
He moves with that alarming quickness again, leaning down to hover over you, chests nearly pressed together. “Gonna take you now, princess. Gonna make you mine.” His eyes bore into yours, blue and shimmering with something wild. His hand presses into the mattress beside your head. “Stay still, now.”
It’s all the warning he gives you. You feel like you’re splitting– straight up the middle. You wail, hands flying out to claw at his back. It hurts. It hurts. 
“Satoru, p-please! It’s–” 
Lips catch yours– hungry, feral. The kiss is not gentle, not soothing. It shuts you up, it keeps you quiet, it keeps you still as you feel him sinking further, deeper into you. It’s too much, you try to say, but the poke of sharp teeth against your lips keeps you silent. Your hips jolt and wiggle trying desperately to escape the stretch but it’s no use. By the time he’s fully inside you, tears are streaking down your cheeks, fat and heavy. His lips break away and his eyes reappear. You shake when you see that none of the wildness has been tamed, that you’ve only just begun.
“Good girl,” he coos, and a cool finger traces a line across your jaw. “Took me so well.” You hold back a sob when his hips shift a little, testing, prodding. He must see the pinch of your eyes, the twist of your mouth, because he’s quick to comfort. “Just hold my hand, princess.” His hips rock in earnest this time and you whimper, squeezing down on his hand with all your might. You’re panting as he chuckles. “Breathe, love. Breathe. Soon you’ll be begging for more,” he laughs. It’s not long before he’s rocking into you sincerely, setting a pace that stretches you to the brink of breaking. At first it’s all you can do to grasp onto him, to bite your lips through the whimpers and hold his hand. And then it’s… more. It’s heat and warmth despite the coolness of his body on yours. It’s sensation and… pleasure. He laughs when the first moan slides past your lips, burying his face in your neck once again. You hear him at your ear, panting his hot breath across your skin. 
“Feel good, princess?” You nod, letting your hips rock against his as he showed you before. It feels good– it feels right. He chuckles, but there’s nothing light about the sound. “Wanna feel even better?” Something sharp pokes at the skin of your neck, hard enough to make you squeak, to make you freeze at what you know he wants. 
He pulls himself back, pressing his forehead to yours, searching your eyes with his. Something like a cruel smile dances on his mouth. “Just a taste, love. I promise it won’ hurt.” His tongue darts out and licks across your lips, his thrusts rocking just a bit faster. “You’ll feel s’ good an’ I’ll only take a little.” He laughs again and it sends a chill through your bones. “Promise.” He sounds breathless, like he’s struggling to restrain himself. The increase of his pace makes you whine and you squeeze his hand again. He buries himself back in your neck, panting. “Come on, love. Say yes. Say yes f’ me.” Your eyes glaze over. Your body justles with each new thrust. He’s desperate now, seeking a release that you don’t think is any kind you’re familiar with. “Yes, yes, yes,” he chants in your ear. You’re not sure when his words twist in your mind, when they settle on your tongue and push past your lips, but you know it feels so right when they do. 
“Yes,” you whisper. 
His fangs clamp around your pulse. You scream when the sting rips through you, violent and savage– but it only lasts a moment. Pain fades to… ecstasy. You feel his throat bobbing with each swallow, feel your blood seeping from your skin and onto his tongue. You’d thought it would feel slicing, draining, like the life was being sucked from you. It doesn’t. It feels wonderful. Heat spreads under your skin, emanating from your neck and down to your toes. It feels like breathing for the first time, like sugar being pumped into your veins. It feels like heaven. Your hand tangles in his hair, holding him close. You don’t want it to stop, not ever. You could die like this, have him suck every last drop of blood from your veins and thank him for it with your dying breath. 
He’s moaning now, hands curling into your hips while he fucks into you relentlessly. The pace is grueling and brutal. You know it should hurt but only feels perfect. Anything less would not be enough. Anything else would leave you wanting. You feel it building, feel that familiar twinge at your core. The ecstasy flooding through your veins has it coming faster, has you teetering on the edge in moments. 
“Satoru…” You hadn’t noticed how dizzy you felt until you tried to speak. You wonder why… “‘M gonna…” 
He fucks you harder, something menacing and deep rumbling in his chest. The sound makes you shiver, makes you whine, makes you come. 
Your body shakes and a cry rips from your throat, cunt clenching like a vice around him. Your eyes roll back, hands scraping trails down his back. Your thighs quake with the intensity, with the overwhelming senses of pleasure that erupt throughout your body. Every nerve is firing, every hair rising. It’s an unstoppable current, one that sweeps you away, helpless to its pull. 
His thrusts grow sloppy and untimed. His grip on your hips tightens, holding you in place while he makes you his. His teeth break from your neck and when you look up through blurry eyes you see his head thrown back, your blood streaming down his chin in thick little globs. You feel it when he cums, feel the thick ropes of it seeping into your womb, feel the way he keeps fucking you, pushing it deeper and deeper inside. He’s moaning, chanting your name like a prayer at the heavens. 
When the moment ends he slumps over you, eyes half lidded and tired. There’s a familiar grin on his lips, one that inspires both comfort and uneasiness in your gut. You can’t help but stare at him, at the blood that stains his chin and cheeks, that reddens his lips so beautifully. You want to reach out and touch him, touch his blood-soaked skin and see what it feels like, what it tastes like. What you taste like. 
His eyes slide to the side, finding your pulse again. You groan. Yes, you think. Please, yes. More. You don’t think you’ll ever get enough of that. Of his teeth in your flesh, of the euphoria flooding your veins. More, more, more, your mind chants. 
He chuckles lightly and shakes his head. “No, princess.” He raises a finger to trace the curve of your neck. “I took more than I should have…” His expression doesn’t tense with worry. His cheeks pull into a smile, those little dimples shining through. “But what can I say? You just taste so good.” Like he needs to emphasize his point, his tongue darts out to trace his lips, lapping up some of the remaining blood on his chin. “You taste like mine.”
You whine. More, more, more. It’s all you can think about. You lift an arm weakly. You want to pull him to your neck, to make him drink, to make him fill you with the heaven you had just moments ago. 
He catches your wrist and brings it to his lips, inhaling deeply. His lips split into another grin and you see his eyes spark again with the wildness you crave. 
“Not yet, princess.” he coos. “But soon.” His smile grows even wider, until those fangs are on full display, until you’re trembling again. “Forever,” he whispers.
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muwapsturniolo · 1 month
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♱ 𝐁𝐮𝐢𝐥𝐝 𝐆𝐨𝐝, 𝐓𝐡𝐞𝐧 𝐖𝐞’𝐥𝐥 𝐓𝐚𝐥𝐤 ♱
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Pt.01 Pt.02
IN WHICH…A virgin meets the new priest of her church, Father Matt, and her world of all things holy begins to crumble.
WARNINGS… NSFW AHEAD! Religious figures, god is mentioned, Demons, religious abuse, mentions of exorcisms, paranormal activity, making out, fingering, blow jobs, pillow humping, breath play, cum eating, rough sex, virginity mentioned, voyeurism, masturbation, blood, orgasms, death, innocent/nieve!reader, asshole!matt. IF I MISSED ANYTHING PLEASE LET ME KNOW!!!
APOLOGIZING NOW TO ANYONE WHO IS SUPER RELIGIOUS! THIS IS NOT MEANT TO DISRESPECT ANYONE, I JUST GOT THE IDEA FROM OTHER SMUTS I'VE READ, THE SONG BY PATD!, AND THE MOVIE MOTHER!
This is a long one, like I'm talking 5k sum words. I hope y'all enjoy.
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The dark.
It was something many people, both children and adults alike feared
Nyctophobia.
They hated not being able to see their surroundings correctly, to see the color in their life. They hated being alone in what seemed to be an endless descent into a void.
Y/n was the same..
She hated the dark, always has.
However it wasn't the dark that necessarily scared her, it was the fact she knew she wasn't alone in the dark.
When she was younger, she had imaginary friends, they were her only friends. During the day they were nice to her, playing tag with her outside, and holding fun conversations about rainbows and unicorns, but as it got closer to dusk,
They began to change.
Their faces would sink in, and they'd start making clicking noises and whispering. They would creep around her home and tell her to do bad things. She'd beg them to stop, fat tears rolling down her cheeks as she did so.
They wouldn't listen, instead they'd get violent.
When nighttime fell, they would grab her feet in bed, attempting to drag her off the safety of her mattress. They would scratch at the walls, screaming as their talons left marks along the pink wallpaper.
She'd curl into a ball, tears rolling down her face as she prayed for god to stop them, but god didn't listen. Her prayers only seemed to enrage her imaginary friends, their screams getting louder as their actions became more violent.
But the only time they'd stop was at 3 AM.
Their screams would suddenly stop, their violent actions coming to an end.
And it was always because of Matt.
He was a ghastly pale boy, his skin being a stark contrast to her warm soft brown skin. He had a round face and sandy brown hair, his blue eyes were piercing.
And he always had a smile on his face.
He'd crawl into bed with the young girl, wrapping his small arms around her and whispering in her ear.
"It's ok Y/n, you'll understand eventually."
She was confused by his words, not understanding what he was talking about. But she never had time to dwell upon it, her eyes falling shut as sleep overtook her.
She was always able to fall asleep quickly when Matt was there,
He was comforting...He was her savior.
But that was yanked away when her parents held her first communion, crowning the girl a child of god and letting her consume the blood and body of Christ.
Her imaginary friends no longer appeared, Matt was gone.
Oddly, she missed it, the nights in which she used to fear and learned to love were taken away in the blink of an eye and she hated it. She would tell her parents how she missed Matt, how she missed the conversations they held at night.
To say her parents were frightened would be an understatement. They accused her of being promiscuous when she didn't even know what promiscuous meant.
They accused her of being friends with the devil.
Instead of just understanding she was a child with an active imagination,
They locked her in the hallway closet.
They wouldn't let her out for a week, ignoring her screams and pleas to be let out.
She was scared, hurt, confused...She didn't understand why she was being punished this way.
So when she was dragged inside her home, soaking wet from the storm outside, and her mother opened the closet,
She lost it.
She screamed as loud as she could, kicking, screaming, and fighting for them not to lock her in that closet again.
"Please! I'm sorry, it won't happen again!" She pleads helplessly to her father. Her glossy eyes stared into her fathers deep and stern ones, hoping he would have a change of heart.
He didn't.
Her body fell backward as he shoved her into the small space, her head hitting a shelf. Ignoring the pain in the back of her head, she scrambled forward, attempting to stop them from closing the door...But it was no use.
The door slammed shut, trapping her in the dark.
Her fists banged against the door, her screams raw and ear-piercing as she begged them to be let out.
but they don't listen.
Her screams eventually come to a stop, turning into soft and raspy whimpers, still pleading for forgiveness under her breath.
They ignored her, giving each other a look before heading to their bedroom to hopefully get some sleep.
A few hours had gone by, and Y/n managed to curl into a ball on the floor, her fingers dancing in the sliver of light casting from the hallway underneath the door.
Her eyes were dead, her throat sore from all the screaming and shouting she was doing earlier.
Suddenly, she feels a presence.
She tense, her fingers stopping all movement.
She thought that it was one of her parents coming to let her out of the closet, but that thought was thrown out when she heard a clicking noise.
The same clicking noise from her childhood.
She scrambles to sit up, her back touching the door as the hairs on her neck stand up.
Her eyes dart around in the darkness, her pupils straining, trying to find what she was looking for.
But she couldn’t see, it was dark.
Her breathing is harsh, her chest rising and falling rapidly as she tries to figure out if her mind is playing tricks on her. She comes to the conclusion that she was in fact hallucinating, and tries to calm down, but that changes in a split second.
The clicking noise happens a centimeter away from her ear.
She lets out an ear-piercing scream, throwing herself further away from whatever was trapped in the closet with her.
It happens so quickly, the clicking noises and screaming multiplying.
She's instantly brought back to all the times she would lay in bed at a young age, screaming for her imaginary friends to stop torturing her.
"Stop it! Please stop! Let me out!" She sobs.
She curled into a ball, her hands over her ears as her eyes clenched shut.
She looked like a child, a scared child.
The screaming and clicking goes on forever, day and night, not that she could tell the time.
All sense of time had been thrown out the window.
She doesn't know how long she was in the closet, the door never opening until eventually,
It did.
The screams stop immediately, the quietness seeming so loud.
Y/n opens her eyes, blinking profusely as she adjusts to the light she hasn’t seen in days.
Once they do finally adjust, she sees a hand outstretched toward her. She follows the limb upward and her eyes land on Matt.
Her savior.
He has a warm and welcoming look on his face, contradictory to the shadows standing behind him.
“It’s ok Angel-” He voices softly as he sees her frightened eyes and splotchy cheeks.
“Take my hand,” He urges.
Hesitantly, the girl takes his hand, no longer wanting to be in the closet. As she rises to her feet her legs begin to shake, weak from being trapped in the closet with nothing to eat or drink besides a single water bottle and a loaf of bread.
Matt wraps an arm around her waist, a neutral expression on his face as he supports her shaking frame.
“Look at you, so weak and scared. They had you in there for six days.” He coos.
Suddenly her parents appear, making her flinch back in fright. She was scared they were going to put her in the closet again, trapping her with the demons.
“Did you do what I asked?” Matt questions with a straight voice. Both adults nod, their eyes casted on traumatized Y/n.
“Yes, Father…They are in your car.”
Matt hums in thanks and looks down at Y/n, “let’s go Angel.”
Her parents watch as she’s pulled out of the home, mumbling a prayer to themselves that their daughter be saved, and whatever demon inside her banished so she can live a full life.
Matt opens the passenger side door, helping her get situated in the car before walking over to the driver's side.
His eyes land on her parents standing by the door.
As they hold eye contact, they can’t help but feel a chill run down their spine. They watch as an eerie smirk makes its way onto the Father’s face.
Matt watches as her parents are yanked backward, the front door slamming shut.
He chuckles and settles into the car, starting the engine and pulling off down the street.
Y/n sits quietly in the car, her eyes dull and face grim.
Matt side-eyes her but says nothing, continuing the drive to their destination. Midway through the drive, he reaches into the backseat and places a brown paper bag in her lap.
“Eat. You need the energy.”
Y/n stares down at the paper bag full of food, her stomach grumbling at the sight. However, she doesn’t dive in.
“F-for what?”
Her voice is raspy, her throat dry from all the screaming and crying she has done. She lifts her head and looks at Matt who’s already looking at her with a devious smile.
“Your exorcism.”
Her heart dropped along with her head, more tears falling from her eyes. She had completely forgotten that she was supposed to have an exorcism…She didn’t need one. There was no use in trying to beg him to listen, she figured his and everyone else’s mind was made up. Her hands shake as she begins to eat the food, the sandwich tasting rotten as she tries to wrap her head around what her life has come to.
Eventually, they pull into the lot of a rundown motel. The dim and half-lit sign read “ Cameron Motel”.
Weeds were growing all over the parking lot that had a few dirty cars parked. The building itself was baby pink with baby blue trimming that had graffiti all over it. Some of the windows were boarded up and others were broken.
She was so busy staring at the beat up building, she didn’t realize Matt had gotten out the car. She jumps when her door opens, her head turning and looking up at a stoic Matt.
“Get out of the car Angel.”
Her breath hitches but she does as told, hugging herself as she stands in front of him. He grabs her arm, and quickly drags her towards the entrance.
Despite the eerie and dark aura of the motel, she can’t help but find an appeal to it. She knew that if the building was taken care of, it would look beautiful.
Yet, she still finds herself crossing, her index and middle finger drawing a cross that catches her head and chest, to both her shoulders.
As they enter the dingy building, her nostrils immediately begin to burn with the smell of asbestos and formaldehyde.
She coughs a little as she takes in her surroundings. Just like the outside, the inside was decaying right before her eyes.
She’s taken out of her examination by a girl in her bra and underwear running past her, the girl laughing and squealing as a boy chases her in his boxers. She jumps in shock and presses herself closer to Matt, her cheeks warm from seeing the girl so exposed.
Matt ignores her obvious signs of being flustered and keeps walking.
As they walk down the dimly lit hallway, she hears all sorts of things behind closed doors.
Screaming, crying, moaning, and tv static.
The occupants of the motel seemed to have a very different outlook on life.
But who was she to judge? She was the one here for an exorcism, not them.
They approach a door at the end of the hallway, the room number reading 333. Matt pushes the door open and to Y/n's surprise, the room isn't as dirty like she thought it would be.
A king size bed sits in the middle of the room, adorned in clean white sheets. The floor is carpeted with no stains, and there is a tv sitting on a stand across the bed.
Matt gently pushes her inside the room and closes the door, throwing the bag on his arm on a nearby chair. She stands awkwardly in the middle of the room as Matt walks around. Her head is cast downward but she can see him removing his blazer.
He throws it down on the edge of the bed, soon sitting next to it and facing her. He examines her timid frame and hums to himself.
They sit in a pregnant silence before he finally speaks, "Take that bag with you into the bathroom. Get yourself ready."
She eyes the bag on the chair and finally looks back to Matt, "W-whats in there?"
"Just take the bag, and get ready," he demands. She nods and timidly grabs the bag, holding it to her chest as she makes her way into the bathroom. She sets the bag on the counter and unzips it, all her movements stopping when she sees what's inside.
She pulls out a razor and some type of women's shaving cream, shampoo and conditioner, and the final product,
A white dress with a thin pair of white satin underwear.
She takes out the white dress, holding it up by the shoulder straps, and examines it.
It looked like her usual nightgowns, except more provocative.
Her cheeks warm at the thought of seeing herself in the dress, Matt seeing her in the dress. She sets the dress down and looks back at the shaving products. She's a bit confused at the idea of shaving considering her mother and father never let her do so, telling her that children of the lord don't need to shave, and if she does shave she's a Jezebel.
But that's what she is right? That's what her father has deemed her as,
A Jezebel.
With that, she strips herself of her clothing, climbing into the shower, and cleanses herself. With never having shaved before, she takes quite a bit of time getting rid of the hair on her body, especially in other areas.
She climbs out of the shower and dries off, rubbing a vanilla-scented lotion into her skin and slipping on the dress, underwear, and knee highs.
She stares at herself in the mirror and examines herself.
Although she's exposed, looking whorish as her father would put it, she likes what she sees in the mirror. She loves the way her brown skin is a stark contrast to the white dress, and how soft and plump her skin is.
She has a glow...an Angelic glow.
She slowly turns towards the door and hesitates as she reaches for the handle. She's a nervous wreck at the idea of Matt seeing her so exposed, no one has ever seen her in such a state since she was a baby.
She debates on locking herself in the bathroom, but she knows that's not logical. With a fast-beating heart, she slowly opens the door, her left hand clutching the rosary that hangs in the valley of her breasts, tucked into her lingerie.
She steps out of the bathroom, her eyes landing on Matt who's still sitting on the edge of the bed, but now he's smoking a cigarette. He doesn't look at her, keeping his eyes on the TV that's playing nothing but static.
"F-Father?" She addresses shakily.
Matt says nothing as he stands up from the bed, walking over to the window and drawing the curtains shut.
"Sit in the middle of the bed, on your knees, palms turned upward," he demands, loosening his tie. She tenses but does as told, her heart beating wildly as she anticipates what's to come.
Matt ashes out the cigarette, throwing his tie somewhere in the room as he finally turns to her.
She watches as he looks her up and down, his eyes staying on her chest with an unrecognizable look in his eyes. She flinches when he finally makes eye contact with her, her head dropping downward almost instantly.
"What did you see?"
She looks up in confusion, not understanding the question. Matt moves to the foot of the bed, standing tall above her.
"In the closet, what did you see?"
Her breath hitches at the question, scared to tell him the truth.
As if he's reading her mind, he tells her to tell him the truth.
"I-I...S-shadows...."
Matt hums, taking a step closer to the bed. "Shadows...and what were the shadows doing?"
"Sometimes they would j-just stand quietly...staring at me. O-other times they are whispering, screaming...clicking."
Matt says nothing for a moment, staring at her with such an intense gaze she feels something in her lower abdomen. "And how long has this been going on?"
"S-since I was five... but it stopped when I was 7, when I first had the body and blood of Christ." Matt's eyes turn into slits, his posture becoming tense.
"Your parents told me about your imaginary friends, how you explained they would go bump in the night but would stop. Why and how would they stop?"
Matt's words become quick, almost as if he's excited, anticipating her answer.
"T-they would stop at 3 AM- The devil's hour." Her heart drops as he cuts her off, her eyes wide in fear.
"W-what?"
"The devil's hour, anytime between 3 and 4 AM when demons, ghosts, anything considered hellish are their most powerful. They can cross borders between realms, speak to the living, touch the living." His words hint at something, something Y/n isn't picking up.
"T-they were demons?" She whispers softly, her hands that were still facing upward shaking and beginning to sweat. Matt smiles at her, that devilish smile that she finds herself often thinking and dreaming about.
"I believe so...So tell me, why and how they would stop." He urges once more. "I um...They-they would stop when he appeared..."
"Who's he?"
"Ma-" She stops herself as her mind begins to connect the dots. The boy who she deemed her savior, the one who showed up at 3 AM and made the things that go bump in the night disappear. The boy who would cuddle her at night and hold small conversations with her.
She wasn't sure at first, but as she started to analyze his features, everything from the head down, it was the same person.
He was standing in front of her...In all his glory.
Matt's grin grows tenfold as he sees she's connecting the dots.
"Did you miss me, angel?"
She thought if she ever saw the boy she considered a friend again, she would be jumping for joy, but instead, she crawled backward towards the head of the bed.
She was scared.
Her hands shake as she covers her mouth, the reality setting in.
"Y-you're the Devil!" she accuses softly.
Matt chuckles and turns toward the mirror behind him, still holding eye contact with the frightened girl.
"Devil? No. A product of hell itself? Yes."
Y/n feels her whole world crumbling. She couldn't wrap her head around how her life had come to this, why she was the one picked for this?
What could she have done from the time she was born, to be deemed of this fate? Was this her punishment for what she had done in a past life? Was this punishment for using God's name in vain when she was younger?
"I told you when we were younger that one day you'll understand, that time is now." He grabs a bottle of wine and pours himself a glass, taking a long sip before turning around and leaning against the dresser.
"You see, your mother wanted a baby, and with your father shooting blanks, she was never able to have one. Despite calling herself a woman of god, she made a deal at the crossroads with my father, the devil himself. She was dumb, crying and begging for a child so bad, she didn't care about the repercussions that came with it."
Y/n feels as if she's going to pass out, all this information too much for her to handle.
"So she made the deal, the deal to give her little baby girl to one of the devil's sons. Me."
y/n quickly shakes her head, refusing to believe the truth. "Y-you're lying! You're a liar! She would have never done that!" She shouts, tears running down her face. she begins to pray, hoping that god will listen and make all of this stop, hoping that he will save her. Matt grows angry, throwing the glass of red wine on the floor as he crawls onto the bed. He grips her jaw tightly, getting in her face.
"Stop praying! God can't help you, he was never able to help you!" He bellows, the whole room seeming to shake. She opens her watering eyes and Matt relaxes just the smallest bit. He removes his harsh grip on her jaw and wipes her tears away.
"You're pretty when you cry Angel, so pretty."
He inches closer to her face, his breath fanning softly. " You're mine Angel, you always were-" His hand drops from her face and down to her shoulder, his fingers fiddling with the straps of her dress.
"-You know it's true, I know you feel the connection. I kept you safe when we were younger, making all the bad stop."
Her thighs tense as his other hand grazed the freshly shaved skin, his fingers dancing along the hem of the dress.
"I've only made you feel good, I showed you how good life could be in both your daydreams and at night. I broadened your mind, I gave you pleasure."
She gasps softly at his last words.
"T-that was you....My thoughts a-and the moment in the confessional?"
He nods, a soft smile on his face, "that it was. I knew you'd appreciate it, you never felt a sense of belonging following that path. You knew they were lying, sex isn't bad, touching yourself isn't bad, and reading whatever you want isn't bad. You enjoy those things, I want you to enjoy those things. I want you to be free, I can give it to you. you just have to trust me...Do you trust me?"
She comes to the conclusion that he's right, he never lied to her. he's only ever broadened her mind, gave her what she craved, lusted after.
He was her savior.
He was her god.
"Tell me you trust me Angel, grant me the access to give you freedom." she looks to her right, watching his hand toy with the thin string on her shoulder.
She doesn't know what he means by freedom, but she wants to be free. She knows there's more to life than her small town and the path of God. She wants to experience things, she wants to create memories,
She wants to live.
With dried tears on her cheeks, she looks back up at him.
"I trust you."
That's all Matt needed to hear before his lips crashed against hers, hungry and ready to devour her. Y/n is caught off guard, never having kissed anyone before. She doesn't exactly know what to do so she lets Matt take the lead.
Matt doesn't care, he knows of her innocence, and he loves it. In fact, it's a turn-on for him, knowing that he is the once who's going to ruin her.
He pulls away from the feverish kiss, trailing his lips down her jaw and to her neck. His hands rest on her waist, his knee in between her thighs and lightly rubbing against her core. He grabs her hand and places it on the tent in his pants.
He can feel her tense, he can hear her heart thumping wildly.
It drives him wild.
"You have me so worked up Angel, this is all for you. You did this." He holds her hand as he guides it in an up-and-down motion, moaning softly in her ear, expressing the effect she has on him.
It gets her hot and bothered, that tingly feeling she usually feels in between her legs when she usually thinks of Matt expanding. Matt chuckles, his lips brushing against her ear as he gently ruts into her palm.
"I can smell you Angel...you smell so sweet, delectable, divine even."
Y/n pants heavily, her body feeling electric. It felt just like her dreams, so real, intimate, right.
It felt right.
Every inch of her body that he touches feels hot, her muscles flexing at the soft yet heavy touch.
He leaves multiple hickeys along her neck and collarbone, sucking and biting at the skin in a way to claim her.
He pulls back and and yanks her towards him by her thighs, he stares down at her, appreciating how her curls fan out across the white pillows, adoring the marks he created on her body.
She was Angelic.
He pushes her legs apart and looks down, grinning wildly as he sees the wet patch in the underwear. His finger tickles her inner thighs as he takes his time getting to her core, her chest rising and falling harshly.
"When you touched yourself, did you think of me?"
He chuckles as she turns her head away from him. "I know you did, I know of everything you dreamt of. How you imagined my fingers plunging into your mess of a cunt, how you imagined my tongue lapping at your folds."
He rips the underwear off with ease, her eyes widening in shock from the action and now being exposed. She tries to close her legs but he shoves them apart.
"And my personal favorite, was me fucking you so hard, you kept begging me to keep going. Is that what you want Angel? You want me to be your God and fuck you?"
She nods sluggishly, drunk off of his erotic and intoxicating words.
She gasps softly at the foreign feeling of his fingers trailing through her folds. It was nothing like how her fingers felt, it felt better. Her eyes flutter shut as she relishes in the newfound pleasure, only for them to fly open when two fingers are slipped inside of her.
Matt instantly begins to thrust, curling the slim digits in efforts to break the girl. Her jaw drops as her eyes roll back, the lewd squelching noises make her back arch.
"You're so tight-shit- can barely move my fingers Angel. I can't wait to have you wrapped around me." He grunts out as he watches her walls clamp down on his fingers. She's already making a mess and he has barely done anything.
He takes his fingers out and smears her mess over her lips before slowly pushing them side her mouth.
“Suck.”
She does as told and sucks on his fingers, finding herself addicted to her own taste. Matt smirks and slips them out of her mouth, trailing the saliva down her chin to her chest. He wraps his fingers around the rosary and yanks it off, the beads flying all over the bed.
A metaphor for her being stripped of her innocence.
Before she can fix her lips to say something, Matt’s lips crash against hers once more. Her arms wrap around him, her eyes closed as she kisses him back as if her life depended on it.
Matt rips his button-up off, throwing it somewhere in the room before he starts to unbuckle his belt. Once he manages to take his pants off, he pulls away from the kiss and forces her on her knees, a pillow being pushed in between her legs.
He pulls his boxers down making her eyes widen in shock. She's never seen male body parts before, ever. She looks up at Matt, an unsure look in her eyes.
"Go on, put it in your mouth," he persuades, eager to finally feel her mouth on him.
"I-I- don't k-know ho- Yes you do." He cuts her off, his hand wrapped around his own member and jerking himself off. She watches with wide eyes, unintentionally grinding against the pillow in between her legs.
"Put it in your mouth, lick on it like you do your ice cream cones." Matt's mind flashes back to the park, watching her walk away from the ice cream stand licking and sucking on her vanilla cone.
He wanted to claim her that day in the park, taking her under the tree for all to see, but he couldn't, he had to wait.
Y/n hesitantly moves her head forward, giving a small kitten lick to his tip. Matt's whole body shudders, the urge to fuck her mouth too strong.
He snaps.
He fists a handful of her hair and pushes himself in her mouth, groaning loudly as she gags and chokes around him. Her eyes clenched shut as the salty tears streamed down her face. "Fuck-look at me Angel," he grunts as her throat contricts around him.
She manages to open her eyes, her tears flowing even faster.
"Keep em' open," he says beginning to bob her head up and down. She does her best to follow his orders, her mouth opened as wide as it could go. She figures out that she should breathe through her nose instead of her mouth, the air flowing into her lungs easier. However, that was short-lived when Matt pinches her nose, preventing her from breathing. Instead of bobbing her head up and down, he thrusts his hips harshly, enjoying the choking and gargling noises coming from the girl on her knees.
She tries to breathe through her mouth, but it's proven difficult with the speed at which his genitalia is abusing her throat, and yet
She loves it.
She shamelessly ruts against the pillow between her legs, chasing that euphoric feeling she felt not too long ago in the confessional. She knows if her parents saw the ludicrous acts she was performing on a male, they would have a heart attack. But she didn't care, she loved how warm she felt, how safe she felt.
She loved being used.
She looks up at Matt, watching how beautiful he looks with his head thrown back and jaw slacked. It's an image that will forever be burned inside her brain.
Suddenly his thrusts stop, a warm and salty liquid filling up her mouth. He pulls himself out of her mouth, watching as his semen leaks past her lips. Instead of telling her to swallow, he wraps a hand around her throat and kisses her.
He moans into the kiss, lapping his own fluids out of her mouth.
He lifts her back onto the bed with ease, crawling over her panting and dazed form. He settles in between her legs, already lining himself up with her clenching hole.
Y/n doesn't know what's next, she's still trying to catch her breath, but she doesn't have much time to dwell on it once Matt shoves himself inside her. A strangled yelp leaves her throat and her hand flies to his abdomen, attempting to stop him or at least slow him down.
But Matt does neither, instead, he begins to pound into her relentlessly.
"I-It b-burns!" She yelps, trying to stop his brutal pace. He ignores her cries of pain, his eyes trained on the blood seeping out of her cunt, coating his cock and painting the hem of the white lingerie adorning her body. He lets out a deep and animalistic growl, his grip on her thighs tightening at the sight.
"You love it-fuck- you love the burn. It feels so good doesn't it Angel? You love the way my cock stretches you out, the way it fills you up so good you can feel it in your lungs,"
It's as if he's warping her mind, forcing her to believe his words,
and that's because he is.
With each word he speaks, the burning pain becomes pleasurable, her eyes rolling back in ecstasy. Her arms drop to the sides of her head, her body too weak to move on its own.
Small noises and nonsensical babbles exit her throat, her mind dizzy and fogged by the pleasure she's receiving. She couldn't believe that this is what sex feels like. She couldn't understand how something so heavenly could be considered a sin when it's so euphoric.
She begs and pleads for him to give her more, to make her feel alive.
"P-please! Please please ple-Oh God!" She arches her back when a certain spot inside of her is stimulated. Matt lets out an airy laugh, his hips still driving into her at an inhuman pace,
"That's right Angel, beg for me, beg for your God."
In the height of her pleasure, she begins to feel..odd. Almost as if there are people in the room with them. She manages to focus her eyes behind Matt, and what she sees shakes her to her core.
The shadows, the shadows she has become all too familiar with are watching, watching Matt ravage her. There's a bunch of them crowding the room, their bodies blending into each other as their groans of excitement fill the room. Matt can sense her panic, watching her eyes dart around erratically.
"It's ok Angel, they have to watch," he rasps out, his movements never ending.
"Don't look at them, look at me." He demands. However, she doesn't listen. She can't pull her eyes away from the faceless shadows, captured in a trance by their dark aura.
And that's when she starts to notice other things.
The paint on the walls is peeling, deteriorating right before her eyes. The room begins to reek of death, the smell so pungent she finds it harder to breathe. Particles of dust float in the air, a hazy film coating her eyes.
The room becomes scorching hot, suffocating the girl as a thin layer of sweat covers her body.
Y/n heaves as Matt continuously ruts into her, her chest burning as it screams for oxygen. Too much is going on for her to comprehend, the world moving slowly yet spinning so fast.
Her eyes finally avert back to Matt, her mouth open as no sounds leave her mouth. She sees the eerie smile that plants itself on his face, the dark look in his eyes. If she concentrated hard enough, she could even see the small horns coming out of his head and the pointy tail swaying behind him.
She sees the truth, she sees him for what he is.
The spawn of the Devil himself.
She feels as if her soul is leaving her body, every limb and muscle vibrating. Her jaw goes slack as she feels a sharp pain in her chest, as well as a pleasurable feeling in her lower region. Her eyes roll back as her whole body shakes violently, a metallic taste coats her tastebuds as she begins to cough and sputter out blood. The red liquid stains matts face as well as the white lingerie, before eventually coming to a halt.
Matt finds himself experiencing his own release, throwing his head back as he paints her gummy walls a pearlescent white. He groans as he pulls out of her, his dick falling limp as he crawls backward off the bed. His chest rises and falls quickly as he pulls his pants up, buckling his belt.
He pants as he stares down at her lifeless body, analyzing everything about her deadly appearance. He walks over to the side of the bed, brushing one of her curls out of her face, trailing his fingers through the blood splatter on her face.
"So pretty even in death, an angel plucked of it's wings."
he scoops her up bridal style and holds her close to his chest, her arm dangling as her head is draped back. The door to the room opens, revealing a dark abyss that still holds a blinding light.
He walks over to the door looking down at the dead girl in his arms, the shadows in the room whispering amongst themselves eagerly.
"you'll rise like a phoenix from the ashes, in all its beauty. You'll gain new wings that will set you free. You'll finally be mine...My wife."
He kisses her forehead softly and walks through the threshold of the door, into the darkness.
The door slams behind him, leaving the room empty.
The dingy structure of the motel begins to shake in the wake of the door slamming. The lights begin to flicker, cracks appearing in the ceiling. it's not long before the old and moldy building crumbles in on itself, leaving no trace of Matt and Y/n, or the other tenants and their caricatures of intimacy.
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AHHHHHHH ITS FINALLY DONE! IM SORRY IT TOOK SO LONG BUT WITH WHAT I LIKE TO CALL WW1 OF TUMBLR TRULY DRAINED ME AND I NEEDED A BREAK. PLZ LET ME KNOW WHAT YALL THINK AND IF YALL WOULD LIKE TO SEE MORE FICS LIKE THIS ( OBVI WITH A DIFFERENT PLOT).
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dizzycoffee · 7 months
Note
hihiiii can i ask for hc’s and maybe a small drabble for lucifer, lute, adam, and charlie with a (fem) reader who tends to unintentionally fluster them ?
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— Lucifer, Lute, Adam, Charlie / Fem!Reader; Headcanons
*・゜゚・*:.。..。.:*・ HEADCANONS ・*:.。. .。.:*・゜゚・*
— Lucifer;
Intentional or not, he always wonders how you can be so smooth with your words / actions
He tries to reply with the same tone, but he always stumbles with his words
“You’re so cute when you stutter—” “STOP IT.”
Whenever you lightly tease him, he melts from both embarrassment and love
You chuckled softly upon seeing his already blushing face. “Aw, come on, don’t go shy on me already,” you teased, getting pleasantly surprised when you see the way his face reddens at your words. You truly don’t understand how your choice of words could affect him so much — but you weren’t really complaining.
You always laugh it off, but you definitely like the way he just begins to flush over your words
There are times that you forget that he's Lucifer, though. He'll catch you off guard yourself, saying something surprisingly smooth with that enticing voice of his, and he'll eat up every detail of your own flustered face
"Oh so this is how it feels to fluster, huh?"
Essentially, you both match each other's energy <3
— Lute;
my guilty pleasure fr
She'd totally try to cover her blush with frustration
At first, you used to think she hated being around you. Her face always turned red and judging by her scowl, you assumed it was because she was angry
The only reason you found out otherwise was because of Adam, who was brutally teasing Lute
"HAH, no way, your face is so red!" You were going down a hall when you heard Adam's taunting voice ring out. Before you could tune them out, another voice spoke up, "You heard her, who the hell says that so casually?" Oh, Lute was with him too. You paused for a moment, letting Adam reply. "Ooooh Lute, you look so cute with your hair pulled back!" he spoke in a mocking high-pitched tone, laughing right after when he heard Lute bark out, "Unlike you, she didn't sound annoying!" ... Wasn't that the compliment you told Lute earlier that day?
After that, you couldn't help but to stop by a bit more often during training, simply to converse a bit more
While you didn't understand how you can cause her to have that reaction, it didn't stop you from pushing forward
I mean, it just means she's not mad at you. And she also hasn't said anything about you needing to stop... you're sure it's fine!
It wasn't until one day she just yells "Why do you feel the need to torment me?!"
"I'm sorry... I just think you look so pretty when you blush."
She "reluctantly" asks you out on a date after that
— Adam;
guilty pleasure 2.0
Whenever you first catch him off guard, he goes silent for like,, a good minute
It takes a moment to register that his heart skipped a beat and his face began to burn from the blood that was rushing to his cheeks
After hanging out with you, he has to take a moment to sort of realize that someone genuinely makes him flustered and not the other way around
Initially, he's like "well no duh I'm blushing a bit, she's hot as fuck" but that later turns into him being like "she said my hair looks nice today, does that mean anything?? my face is burning, does she notice all of that?? is all of this on purpose??"
He'll call you (jokingly) an attention whore, which you're confused about and leaves him to explain...
Adam chuckled dryly, "You know... because you're, like, constantly flirting with me. That makes you an attention whore." He tried to keep his cool, he really did. But when all you could do was muster up an awkward smile and head tilt of confusion, he realized you genuinely didn't mean to actually fluster him. Fuck. "Don't take it to heart, sugar tits. I'm just joking!" he laughed it off.
After that "incident" he actually tries to match your energy
If you make him blush, he makes it his mission to see you at least giggle from his flirting
I think it's safe to say Adam sort of sucks at flirting because most of his "flirtatiousness" it just lewd comments and stuff
So it takes a while to actually make you blush from his words and not because he said something embarrassingly lewd
You still appreciate his efforts of course :)
— Charlie;
You are, by far, her biggest distraction
She'll be in the middle of trying to come up with lesson plans when you come up to her and say something like "but Charlie, I miss your kisses..."
Immediately folds for you
I'm positive she openly simps for you, no other way around it
"Isn't she just the cutest? She said I look so adorable with a bow tie! She's so considerate and so..." Charlie swooned as her words drifted off into a ran, face already flushed. Angel raised a brow, "Isn't it, like, the third time she makes you go red? You don't think you're sick or somethin'?" "And it's only the morning," Husk groaned behind the two.
The hotel residents are sick of it /hj
Something that they do appreciate it whenever you're able to calm Charlie down from going overboard. Whether it's with the lesson of the day or her going into a near breakdown over how the hotel isn't going how it's supposed to
While, yes, your words definitely have her giggling and kicking her feet, she mainly goes wild over your actions
The way you'll take her hands into yours, looking her in the eyes as you gently tell her "it'll all work out, just be patient."
She just can't imagine a world where you're not by her side, constantly making her heart flutter
She doesn't typically try to match your flirting, especially because she knows that you don't exactly mean to be flirty
But that doesn't stop her from complimenting you and your words/actions
"You really make my day with your words!"
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simpjaes · 6 months
Text
ONE OF THE DAMNED GIRLS PT. 2 (P.SH)
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Moving to a city with wild nights and charming days felt like the perfect choice in your head upon finishing college. Hours away from home, you accept a job at a local museum ironically placed dead between a large historic cathedral and a booming gothic nightclub. You were meant to curate the art, not be curated yourself by a local priest who found you with buckled knees outside of said goth club. ― part one | MINORS DNI
PAIRING ― vampire park sunghoon x afab reader  
WORDCOUNT ― 21.8k
CONTENT ―  modern vampire sunghoon, cathedral/chapel settings, blasphemous behavior, false holy facades, the main vampire trope i use is the act of drinking blood, luring, and living forever, heavy manipulation and toxic behaviors, mentions of reader being alt/goth
SIDE CHARACTERS―  jungwon as your very very best friend who has an installation at the museum (you guys are attached at the hip), jay as the hot bisexual bartender at the goth club, some goth guy named balor 
!WARNINGS! ― dubious consent (due to the act of mind manipulation), hunting and playing victim, a lot of blood: blood sucking, wounds/puncturing, menstruation in a sexual light, manipulation, near-death experiences, fainting, talk of death, acts of mind control/luring 
NOTE ― you must read part one to understand the story. anyway i did not mean to go in so deep with jungwon, i just really fucking adore him please forgive me. anyway, this is briefly edited. if you see a typo, shhhhhh, i don't wanna know.
tags under cut
smut tags [ these tags refer to both parts of the fic] ― big meat sunghoon, biting, A LOT OF BLOOD, sucking and drinking of blood obv, pussy eating (once while reader is menstruating, and another time where she isn’t), deep penetration, rough sex, unprotected sex bc like…he’s dead so lmfao, missionary, scratching, dirty talk, body worship, praise, jungwon is involved in a bit of an erotic situation but there is not smut involving him, 
other tags [ these tags refer to both parts of the fic]― depictions of death, anti-religious language, the act of dying including intense descriptions of the feeling, mentions of pimping and human trafficking, corrupt government, dead nuns, funerals
・・・・・・・・・・・・・・
“My love, let me.” 
You sit up only to be eased back onto the soft mattress. Pillows plush against your head as Sunghoon dabs away at each puncture he’s left on you. 
“You know you can’t sit up so quickly, just rest and let me.” 
You’re littered with his bites by now and you only grow more and more enamored with the feeling of it. Or, perhaps you just enjoy the fact that he’s fixated on drinking from you. Multiple times a day, until your fingers and toes are numb, until you can barely stand without dropping to the floor. 
Enamored through all of it, really. With the way he bites so gently only to suck harder and harder until his fingers grip and pierce through your skin much like his teeth do. He’ll hold you so hard through it, forcing arousal to run through you every single time he goes for that artery in your thigh. You think that’s his favorite spot to bite, if the dozens of wounds there are anything to go by. Truly, you’re enamored with him, always wanting to give him more just so he stays with you longer. 
You seem to have lost yourself in the lust of it all. The fantasy, the desire. On the brink of insanity, you know you’ve grown obsessed with what Sunghoon does to you, and it’s to the point that you don’t question yourself like you normally would. Your desire for this is too strong, far too intimidating to doubt. 
But since that night, he always leaves you with blood against his lips. Aroused, frustrated, confused. Never once letting a hand stray too far, never letting his lips trace anywhere but to your wounds or new expanse of skin that needs to be bitten. 
For days now you’ve been here. You lay here one full day since you were supposed to be back at work too, just waiting for the moment Sunghoon will do more than just drink from you. Mostly for a confirmation. It feels like you’re forcing yourself to go missing for this alone and every night you lie awake in this room waiting, wanting more from him now than you think you ever have.
The room you're in now is lonely, though adorned nearly as beautiful as the one you were in the night Sunghoon stole you away. You know the place you want to be is just down the hall, but your legs won’t carry you there no matter how much you try. He’s rendered you bed ridden and you miss it there, with his silk sheets and candle lit walls. 
Then again, maybe it’s not the room at all that you miss. Maybe it’s just Sunghoon.
You can’t help but note that when he’s on you or next to you, there’s nowhere else you’d rather be. But when you’re alone, you feel your skin crawl with such immense anxiety that you nearly want to scream out for him to come back. Several times already you have called out for him mere moments after he’s left the room. It gives you hope in knowing that each time, he does return to you even if just for a moment. 
All of it is very arousing when he comes to you, but it’s killing you inside to know that he does nothing more than feed off of you. You get nothing out of it but his presence, and perhaps he expects that to be enough. It’s driving you insane to give everything you have to him so willingly, knowing he hasn’t offered anything back to you. 
The fact that you want this, you want him, and you want to be the only blood he craves? It’s a feeling you’ve had to accept, because trying to deny it at this point would only lead you down a more destructive path. As if the one you’re on now isn’t already killing you, if not physically, emotionally. You want to be the person lying in his bed again so badly. You want to show him that you’re no longer terrified. You want to give him equal arousal and interest. 
But he doesn’t offer it. No, he simply bites. 
“I can do it.” You say to him in a frustrated sigh. “I’m not helpless, you know.” 
He’s taken aback by the way you rip the gauze from his hands, sitting up and scooting away from him when you dip it into the bowl of alcohol. Your head spins at the act, but you push through the weakness anyway, knowing he doesn’t like the distance you’re creating between him and you. 
You don’t like the distance either, but it’s helpful to know he doesn’t ignore it. 
“I’m aware.” Sunghoon narrows his eyes at the way your heart is beating for him right now, taking the gauze back from you and gripping your arm to pull you back and against him. “Why are you being difficult?” 
He cleans a wound just under your jaw as he looks at you, waiting for you to answer him. You stare back as if it’s the most obvious thing in the world, not wincing at all like you previously had when he lets the alcohol burn the swollen punctures.
“Hah, so you can’t read minds?” You confirm for yourself, though you had the suspicion that he couldn’t. “You just keep doing this–” You continue, trying not to sound as if you’re nagging. “And nothing else.”
He tilts his head as he moves the gauze to another part of your neck, knowing full well what it is you want. 
“Nothing else?” He repeats in a sly question. “Is there more you want?”
You nod slightly, feeling the cold alcohol send a shiver across your skin, your head finally clearing of the dizziness just from sitting up.
“Name it.” 
Somehow, you lose the ability to ask for what you want. It feels silly to be mad that he hasn’t given you any sexual pleasure despite feeding off of you for days now. Is it insane that sex is all you want in return? Should you ask for financial compensation or something? 
“Ah.” He answers for you with an all-knowing smirk, his nostrils flaring as he inhales your scent. “You want pleasure, yes?”
“Do you not?” You ask simply, and he pulls back with the gauze to look at you dumbfounded. 
For a solid twenty seconds the two of you stare at each other before he’s dropping the gauze into the bowl and pulling you against him in full, turning your body so that your back is to his chest. His strong arms are still cold, but you feel warm enough against him like this.
“It pleases me to know you want it.” He smiles against the top of your head. “Unfortunately, I have other things to tend to.” He continues, pausing to hold you a bit closer. “I still have to feed, love, and I still need to maintain order here. I cannot just spread your legs every waking minute.” 
You’re not asking for him to fuck you every waking minute. It makes you feel as if he’s annoyed to even use such words regarding this. Still, your cheeks warm at his sweet voice. 
“As much as I’d like to.” 
Oh. Your cheeks aren’t just warm, they’re on fire at those words. You’d grasp at anything right now, despite feeling like an afterthought. You don’t like that you’re not a priority to him, even though he fucking feeds on you consistently. To the point you can’t even stand for a full minute without fucking fainting from blood loss. Still, you accept his words and try to think of the positives over the negatives. 
Unfortunately, you’ll never be satisfied with just his words and a mere ten seconds later you’re right back to questioning, doubting, and feeling upset. 
So he can feed this often, but not even slip a finger into you through it? 
Priorities. He has to feed, he said? Does he not already?! 
“Wait, Sunghoon, you do feed.” You argue. “On me.” 
He shakes his head at your ignorance of believing he’ll ever truly have enough of you. Even past death, he’ll never have enough. Which is precisely why you’re still breathing. 
“There are needs I have that you’ve yet to understand. You satiate the hunger, yes, but that is nothing more than a feeling, not a truth.” 
You try to comprehend his words but fall short. Only because that would mean–
“You’re becoming afraid again,” He comments on your heart rate. “Calm yourself, darling, the need within me is no fault of my own and I’ll continue to keep you from seeing the act take place.”
There’s silence from you as you try to calm yourself down. Of course he has to feed, but…is that not what he’s already been doing to you? Your heart isn’t racing from fear, it’s racing from–jealousy.
“So, mine isn’t enough?” You feel your heart shatter a bit when you voice it, knowing full well that for him to be full, he likely has to kill.
Why are you jealous? Well, if you’re so irresistible like he says you are, why does he hold back? Why are you still alive? Does your blood not taste as good as whoever else he’s been having at? Why does he keep you around, but no one else? Maybe they’re the ones who are irresistible, and you’re just a placeholder for if he can’t find his meal for the night. Maybe he’s just using you. 
“Hmm.” Sunghoon thinks hard at your question. “You’re feeling envious?” 
You don’t respond to him or the way he clocks your jealousy, and instead shake his grip off of you before grabbing the gauze yourself again.
He watches you take the material and dip it into the liquid, moving it down your legs and to the assault of wounds against your thigh. 
“You’re truly strange.” He licks his lips at the sight of your thighs, listening closely to the artery you have there, always so hungry for more but knowing he need not drink for the time being. After all, he’s just eaten. “Almost as unnatural as I am.” 
You have to force back a smile at the truth of his words though, softening at the way he compares you to him like the two of you fit together perfectly. The jealousy rages within you, but so does this strange adoration you have for him. 
“To think I don’t crave you? Have I not shown you already?” 
“Hmm, you might need to remind me.” You’re being playful now, trying to get what you want. Entirely thankful for the way he solves every problem you have with him in your head even if just for a moment.
You think you’ll always miss him on a deeper level than just sitting and speaking though.
“When can I leave the room?” You ask now, suddenly. “When can I come back to your room?” 
Sunghoon doesn’t fight his own smile, loving the way you stay of your own free will, even while upset with him for not giving you more than that single night of love making. 
“Not yet, love.” He mutters now, knowing that it’s not likely for you to be able to make it down the hallway without calling for his help, also knowing that he can’t give you what you want again so soon. 
“Oh.” You look at him, face falling. “Let me guess, because you have better shit to do.” 
“Still so envious.” He shakes his head with a laugh. “You’ll learn soon enough how I need you.” 
Just, not yet. 
After all, he drinks you until he has no choice but to stop. Multiple times a day, draining you until it’s near dangerous. The fact that you enjoy it drives him to do it more and more. 
You think it’s easy for him to utilize self-control around you? You think he doesn’t want to experience you in every way you can offer? With those pretty sounds you make? God, he misses the way your body hugged his cock so much. You’re out of your mind to think he’s holding out on you because he doesn’t want it. Because you're not good enough? Stupid, stupid girl. 
He needs it. He wants it. He’s fucking obsessed with what you do to him.
You’re truly not the only one trying to adjust to this situation. He has to be very careful with you, and having sex with you could very well break the resolve he’s forced into himself. A simple touch from you that feels too good could have him acting on a split second decision, drinking until you’re dead and cold, just like him. 
Essentially, he has to train himself to your scent and taste. Sure, he’s been fucking nearly every victim since his cock started working again, but it doesn’t change the fact that he’d rather it be you. In fact, the only reason he’s fucking them is to satiate the need to destroy everything that you are for his own desire of having you. 
The issue is that his drive to kill is insanely high, smelling you just down the hall makes every new victim taste better. It makes his cock fuck harder, it makes their bodies feel almost good enough for him to release. But they’re not you, and it’s rendering him unable to control himself. 
His recent victims? Oh, it ends so gruesomely. He feels overheated in the moment, drenched, fucking feral when he makes his kill. Wishing it was you, ignoring the scent of the person beneath him just to smell you from a different room. 
If he gets his hands on you when he’s in that state of mind again, you’ll be gone forever. That’s something Sunghoon wouldn’t be able to live with. Already he’s controlled himself through it once and that may very well have been the hardest thing he’s done in his life. He can’t promise that he can hold back again.
Until he can feed and fuck without feeling his instinct grab him by the throat, he cannot do more than small feedings with you. That alone is training all on its own, because every single time he feeds, he struggles not to take all of it. 
Bit by bit. Sunghoon has to take you piece by fucking piece. And your willingness to do it, entirely awake and aware, makes it all the more difficult. 
He can’t tell you this. Not yet, at least. You’d know the danger you’re in. Nor can he pretend like he will let you leave out of fear. He needs to keep this peace with you until he can truly enjoy you in a way that will ensure you’ll be alive and well after the fact.
And so, he changes the subject, grabbing you even tighter and hugging you in the way any modern boyfriend would. This. This is something he can handle.
“Are you bored of me carrying you across the room?” He asks. “Do you miss walking on your own two feet that much, if just to make it to my room?” He smiles now, making jokes with you that feel a bit dry when it hits your ears. 
“Are you implying that I’m a slut?” You laugh at his attempt to make you smile, slapping against his cold arm playfully. “That the only reason I want to leave this room is to come into yours and fuck you?” 
He shrugs from behind you, hugging tighter, wanting to be under your skin with that beating heart.
“Am I not right to assume? You little harlot.” 
Well, he got you there. 
And you laugh with him about it, living in your little fantasy world like this never has to end. Reality looms taller than Sunghoon does, unfortunately. 
He can feel your heart rate pick up when your laugh slows down. 
“But, Sunghoon, I can’t stay here for much longer like this.” You drop it on him like it’s the easiest thing in the world, and oh how he wishes you could just disappear with him. “I haven’t been home, my phone is there and I’m sure people have been calling.”
His eyes darken at your words as he pushes you from his grasp. Already you wish to leave? After complaining to him about what he doesn’t give you? Is that why you’re saying this right now? No sex means you’ll leave? 
Serves him right for not using the pull on you. He should have kept hold of your mind rather than relish in your willingness. 
“I’ve missed work already.” Your voice gets smaller as you watch him move from the bed and stand in front of you, the scent of cinnamon assaulting your nose along with his darkened and intimidating facial expression. “I– I’ll–come back. I promise.” You cower immediately.
Sunghoon shakes his head at you. 
“Did I not make myself clear?” He deepens his voice, unsure of how to handle his own internal panic. “Never have I let a commoner leave this cathedral alive and knowing the truth.” 
“Are you–threatening me?” You ask, scooting away from him and accidentally knocking over the bowl of alcohol with your foot. 
“Did you not just say you envy the others? Envy dying by my hand?” He questions you back, looming over you in an intimidating stance. Suddenly much, much taller than reality.  “Every time you’ve said you’d come back, you’ve done no such thing. Have I upset you this much?”
You frantically shake your head. 
“No, no!” You lift your hands in defense, reaching out to his towering figure. “I want to be here with you! You just said yourself that you have things to tend to, so do I! If I don’t show up at work, or at least have my phone, people will have the fucking cops out and looking for me!” 
Sunghoon softens, cinnamon air fading out within a second. He feels only slightly ashamed of his immediate outburst when all you can offer back to him is truth. Perhaps you’re the only one living in the real world, even if he’s been living in it for far, far, longer. 
You’ve pulled him into a fantasy, just like he has for you. He truly let himself forget that you’re no victim that’s meant to die. You can’t just disappear without question, and already it has been days. 
Still, you can’t just leave him. 
“I see.” He says, reaching down to grab at the hands you have clinging to his clothes in an attempt to calm himself more than you. “Shall I retrieve your device for you then?” 
You slowly nod, looking away from him and ignoring the fact that as much as you do want to be here with him, the fact that he just implied that you can never leave is a bit– um, intense. So, you don’t argue when you nod to him. If anything, to keep the peace.
“I’ll see to it that you have it in your hands by tonight. And in time, I’ll invite you back to my quarters.” Ending his sentence with a bribe to keep you here felt fitting, and he’s thankful for the way you accept it. 
You nod quicker now, entirely satisfied with his words when he steps back and away from you. 
“Now, please finish cleaning your wounds. I don’t want to taste infection in you.” 
Despite feeling better about it, wanting him still, those words hurt you. You feel insulted by the time he leaves you alone in the room. Like if you got an infection he’d simply lose interest in you, or perhaps end this love of your blood he has. 
He may even just go ahead and kill you if that were to happen.
It drives you to clean yourself twice over. Three times over. Unwilling to lose the feeling of someone biting you so gently, unwilling to die because your use to him has run out. And it feels like you clean yourself all day. To the point you’re probably making yourself more susceptible to infection rather than protecting yourself from it. 
And in this room, time doesn’t exist. There’s a window indicating where the sun is in the sky, but hours and minutes are meaningless. Only when the sun is up do you start counting, knowing that Sunghoon will only visit you during nightfall. 
You clean yourself for what you assume to be hours upon hours, all the way up until the sun falls and you hear the door creak open. You expect to see Sunghoon coming in for his routine of drinking from you, but instead, you find a pale-eyed nun rush to you with your phone and immediately leave after. 
A quick presence is gone within a moment, but you pay no mind as you look down at your phone. You’re thankful for the fact that it’s probably been on the charger all four days you’ve been gone. Considering, well, there’s no electricity this high up in the cathedral, you’ll have to save your battery as best as you can. 
So many missed calls. 
Even more missed texts. 
Dozens of emails. 
Jungwon.
In the morning after you left your apartment, he checked in with you. All throughout the day too. It wasn’t until that same night where his texts became frantic. A little, “i’m coming over, fuck you if you get mad at me for it.” followed by “are you mad at me? why won’t you respond?” 
You couldn’t help but chuckle at that.
Really though, it hurts your heart to have forgotten about him entirely during your time here. Reading through his texts, you see him fight with himself over your absence. Up until yesterday, where he texts you from the museum. 
A glaring “stopped by again today only to realize your apartment was unlocked this whole time. i’m with your boss now, we are calling the cops if you don’t respond within the next ten seconds.” 
A full day late, you respond quickly. 
You: wonnie!!! i’m sorry! I got sad and went home to see my mom. totally ignored my phone…and forgot to lock the door i guess
You: you know, hormones lol 
Immediate spam. Your phone vibrates aggressively back to back with his frantic texts. 
Wonnie: you have to be fucking JOKING
Wonnie: NOT A SINGLE WORD FROM YOU. YOU COULD HAVE CALLED WORK OR
SOMETHING FROM SOMEONE ELSE’S PHONE. I WAS AT YOUR PLACE EVERY DAY.
Wonnie: i CANNOT believe you!!!!!!!!!!!
Wonnie: your whole ass apartment was unlocked and you weren’t there! anyone could’ve walked right in!!!!! are you stupid or something? 
Wonnie: are you home now?
Wonnie: i’m so mad at you FUCK
Wonnie: i got so scared
Wonnie: im coming over
You panic. 
You: wait, i’m not home yet. I didn’t mean to stay so long, I promise ill be home soon and fill you in on everything. 
Wonnie: call your boss. 
Wonnie: ill deal with the cops, then im gonna be waiting outside of your apartment
Wonnie: don’t ever fucking do that shit again, been crying all morning
Wonnie: i hate you so much right now, im never talking to you again
Wonnie: get your stupid ass back home 
You smile fondly at his worry, but the smile is short lived as you know you probably can’t leave here. Not only from the fact that Sunghoon appears to be unwilling to let you leave but you…don’t want to.
Still, you do need to call your boss, and you make quick work of it. Sitting dissociated through the mindless scolding of your terrible lie of an excuse, and then the following call from the local police department. 
Arguably, speaking to the police was easier than knowing you’ll have to lie to Jungwon again. At least the police are aware that you’re a grown woman who can disappear if she wishes. Jungwon, on the other hand, requires a little more care and consideration. 
You’re tired by the time you lay your phone down, unable to keep your eyes open as you drift off. 
・・・・・・・・・・・・・・
Some time later, you wake to the same familiar scent of Sunghoon wafting from under your door. It doesn’t process yet in your brain that you’ve not smelled it since the night you wandered from your apartment. But now? Oh, it’s strong. 
It’s very, very strong. 
Your drowsy eyes look to the door as your legs carry you there, and out you go. Down the hallway, straight to those big doors, straight through those big doors.
The scent burns in your throat the moment you step inside, blurry eyes witnessing two figures right there on the floor. The only clear thing you can make out are his darkened narrowed eyes, only because your brain refuses to process the act taking place in front of you at first.
He looks…rabid. Hair is a mess, sticky and dripping with thick metallic liquid. 
Oh, it sounds so loud. The squelching and the smacking of skin. Your stomach drops, the pit inside of it flourishing with nothing short of rotted desire. 
Right there on the floor of his room lies a woman seemingly experiencing god. Sunghoon is moaning with his eye trained on your shocked figure. He ignores the woman’s aroused grasps against his arms to keep his eyes trained on you. And he just…smirks through it, licking his lips, rolling his eyes back only for them to fall right back to you.
The squelching rings in your ears as he moves faster, feverishly chasing a hunt he’s already got lying beneath him. Almost as if catching him in the act aroused him more than he already had been. Like he’s showing you how much more he’d prefer someone else over you. 
He moans your name inwardly again and again, as if to call you forward to him but your feet can no longer move as you process the act with each call of your name. 
He’s fucking her. He’s devouring her. 
Not you. Her. 
You can feel your heart shrivel at the act when you stumble back, a twisting pain in your chest that you feel silly over. You barely know Sunghoon, but somehow it feels like he’s given you more of himself than he has anyone else. He speaks that way to you, anyway. Always with the words of “I’ve never done this, until you.” 
That was a lie. You’re seeing it now with your own two eyes and you’re paying for believing that you, somehow, could be special. And the pain in your chest travels all throughout your body at the fact that you let this man bite you. You let him take and take until you could barely stand, until you could barely think, until you were right on the cusp of death. 
And you still want to do that for him. But now? He’s grown bored of you. Perhaps he intends to let this woman live too. Perhaps she’s silly enough to fall for a sweet vampire’s words too.
You stumble back more, forcing your legs to work with you rather than against you. It’s like your body has a mind of its own when he smells so welcoming. Cinnamon, spicy, sweet, painful cinnamon. Such a suffocating smell, easy to give in to and grow weak for. At least for you, that’s how it feels. 
When you force yourself to turn around, only to continue stumbling down the hallway, your eyes work against you now too. You knew it would happen though and it’s not something you can stop. The burn and blur of tears prickling at the corners, your throat scratchy and sore. 
You try to hold it in, feeling as if life is being suffocated out of you all the way down. Down, down, down. Past the nuns, past the beautiful and intricate interior, and straight out of the big front doors of the cathedral. 
No goodbyes. 
The breezy night air smacks you hard, forcing a sobbed breath out of you. You dry heave for a moment, squeezing your eyes shut so tight just to try and regain control of yourself and your emotions. The images behind your eyes flash back and forth. You’ve not just witnessed death, but the pleasure of death. Well, if he kills the woman, anyway. 
And you still can’t fathom it. The way you feel, the way you’re reacting, the intense desire for death if it means Sunghoon wants you that badly. Never would you have guessed that a feeling so deeply terrifying exists. But it does, you’re witnessing it overtake the deepest parts of you right now. 
Fuck, you didn’t want to leave but you did. And now here you are, freed from a grasp that you still want so badly. 
Your lungs burn and your chest hurts more than the swollen puncture wounds all over your body. Everything is burning. It’s too, too, hot inside of your skin right now and there’s nothing more you’d rather do than to crawl out of it and freeze. 
Still, you do your best to control the emotions within you. You take a short look around only to feel the head rush hit you now like it should have when you stood from your bed. Right, the blood in your body likely isn’t enough to keep you upright for long and you know you’ll likely not make it to your apartment in this state. 
But you try. Your eyes are out of focus and your legs are clumsy as you try to walk. Down the sidewalk you go, until–
“Woah, little lady.” 
You hear Balor’s voice echo in your ears. The sound of safety feeling so, so far away. 
You can’t even thank him for it because your vision blurs more at the feeling of big, leather clad arms holding you upright, and then– you’re out.
You’re not sure how much time has passed by the time you’re able to hold your eyes open again, but when you do, Jungwon is here and so is that hot bartender you forgot existed. And as you try to comprehend where you are, you learn very quickly that you’re in the back room of the club with concerned eyes focused on..not your face, your body.
“Let’s get you home.” Jungwon’s concerned voice settles in your ears, and only now do you feel his warm hands soothing you against your shoulders. 
“Or maybe a hospital?” Jay offers, also inspecting your skin and the weak state of your body as you try to sit up. 
“No, no. I’m okay, really.” You say, immediately starting to cry out. “Please, just take me home.” 
And so, home is where you go. Jay drives both you and Jungwon there with a kind voice and worried eyes. You see him make the attempt to hug you before leaving, but Jungwon is quick to stop him with a small shake of his head. 
“Let me know when you’re feeling better.” Is all Jay says when he leaves, which, you’re sure he didn’t intend to leave but of course, Jungwon. You can see that he wants to be the one here with you and he insisted to Jay that he’s got you. 
It heals your heart a little bit, but doesn’t change the fact that you’re embarrassed for not only Jungwon to be pulled into your mess, but Jay too? 
You’re humiliated. 
And by the time Jungwon has undressed and redressed you, ignoring the intense smell of alcohol against your skin for now, he’s immediately lying next to you, clinging to you really. 
 You’re aware of what he saw when he removed your clothes. You heard the breath he took in, you saw his confusion at how the clothes you had on were very much not from your closet. He’s going to ask, and you knew he would.
“You’re really cold.” He says in a cracked voice, gentle and sweet as he tries to warm you up. “You weren’t with your mom, were you?” 
You weakly shake your head. 
“You were with that guy you told me about before.” He says now, grabbing you tighter pretending he doesn’t know just how many wounds you have under your clothes. He can’t help but hold you tighter, even if it hurts you.
“What did he do to you?” 
Your throat starts to burn as you cry again. You can barely process what’s happened yourself and explaining it to someone else only feels that much harder. 
The pulsing in your head is too much, you can’t even think straight right now. 
“It was–” You try to calm down, breathing in deep but avoiding eye contact. “It was consensual, don’t worry.” 
Jungwon’s eyes narrow, staring at the deep bite marks on your neck. He’s quick to lift himself up, ripping your shirt up and off of you without so much as trying to be gentle. His panic is blatant and he’s entirely unable to hide how pissed off he is right now.
“No, it wasn't.” He dead-pans as he presents your own body to you, his voice coming out harsher than usual. “You’d be out of your fucking mind to think i believe that this was consensual.” 
He glares at the swollen marks, unsure as to what to do with himself. 
“Fuck,” He scoffs your name along with the curse, throwing his hands up. “Fucking look at them.”
You turn away from him now, wrapping your arms around yourself protectively in an attempt to not peer at what you wish you could have more of. You know what this looks like though, and you’re really trying to see things from his perspective. 
But…It’s hard after everything you’ve witnessed yourself. 
‘It was.” You say again. “I practically begged him to keep doing it.” 
Jungwon falls silent as he counts. 1, 2, 3, 13, 25, 56, 72, still more.
“I wasn’t going to come home, you know.” You sigh out at the silence of his counting. 
More silence. 
“Was gonna stay and never leave.” 
“What? Why?” He panics more at the admittance, dropping down over you and forcing your arms from yourself, trying to pretend he didn’t re-open some of your wounds by tearing your shirt off of you. 
You can hear your best friend crying at the way you hide from him, all bloodied and bruised, but you keep your eyes closed even tighter. All he can do is lend you the entire weight of his body, enveloping you in all of his warmth and care, using his entire body to shield you from even the air in your room. 
“What did he do?” Jungwon pleads for an answer with a cracked whisper. He needs context. Anything to explain the state of you right now.
“You wouldn’t understand.” 
“What did he do?” He presses again, voice only cracking more as he cries along with you. 
“It’s more so what he didn’t do.” 
Silence again. 
“What did he fucking do?” 
You take in a deep breath, sighing out against your best friend’s fluffy hair, humming at his warmth and how much you’ve missed it. 
There’s nothing you can say to make him understand, all you can do is try because hearing him like this is, arguably, just making it more painful.
“I just really liked him, and I guess he didn’t like me so much in the end.” 
Jungwon chooses to take that at face value, opting to not let you out of his sight from this moment forward if he can help it. At one point with you, he was worried about being too clingy. Truly, he was afraid he would annoy you by attaching himself. Never has he grown so close to a person so fast and never has he gained such comfort within someone else’s bubble like he does with you. The comfort is still there, but no longer does he give a single fuck about clinging too much. You clearly cling too.
If you cling enough to let a man abuse your body like that, you’ll be able to handle him clinging just as much, enough to care for you, and enough to not fucking leave your side. He’s not going anywhere, and there’s not a damn thing you can do about it.
After all, he’s not stupid, but he’s willing to act as dumb as you need him to if it means you’ll let him keep you within arms reach. In his head, there’s no way you fell into something with someone who could do this to you without reason, and it appears it’s not a question he’ll get a clear answer from you any time soon. 
It doesn’t matter if his installation will come to an end at some point. He can’t just leave you here when there’s some strange man running around biting the fuck out of people like a rabid dog. Abusing his best friend? No. He won’t have it and he doesn’t care if he has to force you to accept his protection.
He can’t do much for you, but he’s willing to at least be here with you. 
“Hey, it’s okay.” Jungwon soothes you, clinging tighter just to feel some of those reopened wounds bleed onto him. His voice is a stark reminder that there’s more to feel in your body than just pain. “I won’t let him near you again, okay?”
You nod, still crying as you cling back, trying to ignore the images in your head of Sunghoon. 
“Okay.” You lie, missing him too much already, the faint scent of cinnamon still in your nose. 
And you fall asleep like that. Warm. 
・・・・・・・・・・・・・・
You hate calling it an “escape.” You carried yourself out of that beautiful cathedral against your body begging you to stay. Still, even now with Jungwon clinging so warmly at night, you wish you had never left. 
Even the pain of seeing what Sunghoon does behind your back, the jealousy that came with it, you would have stayed if only to prove your worth to him. Being so close to death is exhilarating, and you find yourself feeling entirely empty and void of any emotion that brings joy because of it. 
This isn’t depression, nor is it simple envy. This sadness within you sinks lower than you thought possible, so deeply rooted within you that you feel death itself couldn’t even allow a safe escape. After all, if vampires are real, who's to say you won't end up as a tormented ghost forever searching for a man who can never die?
Damned if you live, damned if you die, so to say. You can’t have Sunghoon either way, you can only have him while suffering. 
And oh, how you miss the cold. You miss his cold. You miss the fear too. You miss the way he’d laugh with no breath against you and drink from your thighs like he needed more. You miss the way your wounds would pulse in pain and lend little reminders of the teeth that pierced them. Even now, they’re healing so well.
And it still hurts.
It hurts to know he said, while holding you, that he craves you. That he very much wants you but has things to tend to. The fact that he needed to tend to fucking other women while drenched in their blood? Things to tend to. 
Because to Sunghoon, real life women, breathing women, are minimized to things to tend to.
Fucking vampires. 
It’s been a week now since you left and it hasn’t gotten easier. During the week, Jungwon hasn’t so much as let you shower without the bathroom door open. You guess that’s fair. 
Still, it has only been a week. A week of everything moving fast, a week of Jungwon, a week of slow and dreadful acceptance, and a week of smelling nothing but faint, ever so slight, cinnamon. 
By now you know it’s him. Like he’s truly dug his claws into you and doesn’t intend to let you forget all that he took from you. Always that fucking smell, from the first night you met him until now. Yet he is nowhere to be seen, even when you stare at the cathedral after the sun goes down. 
No one has left. No one has gone inside. 
Part of you even found yourself worrying if he’s eaten. Hah. Funny.
Still, you’re forced to live in reality now. Nothing but healing wounds, meaningful days, and reminders that you let yourself fall as quickly and painfully as possible. 
You’re entirely dissociated, as if you’re gliding rather than walking, as if each day passes in a second rather than a twenty four hour time span, as if you’re truly empty now and not filled with the blood you thought meant so much. 
Somehow, you find comfort in the emptiness though. Jungwon fills the space as best he can too. He always accepts your rejections of going to update Jay at the club just to sit between your legs on the living room floor and try to make you laugh through silly faces riddled with concern.
You assume he’s in contact with Jay anyway, letting him know that you’re not quite dead yet. 
The days blur together now, up until two weeks pass, three weeks, four, five weeks.
Thankfully, by the fifth week, it’s gotten easier. Each day you just have to remind yourself that you can never forget Jungwon again like you did before. He’s the one who helped you through this, and to think you’d ever make him go through this again is insane. In fact, he’s the reason you finally feel good inside again. 
He’s like medicine, which is cringe and lame as fuck to say but it’s true. Internally, he’s made you feel better. Yet, right beside all those happy warm feelings lies everything else. Distress, sadness, anxiety. 
They still seep out of you too. Every night, really, after the daytime wears off and Jungwon runs out of things to distract you with.
“Why do you have to look at me like that?” Jungwon says sweetly, sprawled out on your bed in his pajamas as he watches you pace around your room. “I swear, it’s like everything I say to you goes through one ear and out the other.” 
You pause in your step, sad eyes reaching his face. 
“I already told you I’m not going home.” He repeats himself for what feels like the thousandth time to you. “I’m still getting paid, I have enough to last me if you let me stay here before finding work.”
After all, it’s not like Jungwon has anything to go back home to. Save for an annoying sister who probably wanted him to move the fuck out of her space anyway. He’s the last person on this earth to be afraid to up and move out with a near stranger.
You’re not so much a stranger to him though, and the need to be by your side far outweighs anything else right now. 
“Yeah, but, eventually.”
Never have you been one to worry about fleeting time. Never until you met that dead motherfucker. You worry about not what is happening, but what will happen. The inevitable. You no longer welcome it. 
It’s not death that brings the anxiety though, it’s just…the clock. 
With the ticking, the tocking, and the changing of seasons. Everything lasts both too long and not long enough. At this moment, the fear is Jungwon leaving at some point in your life. For any reason at all, really. 
He’s been by your side since you found your way back to him. A nuisance at times, yes, but you’re attached. To an unhealthy degree, you are fucking attached to him at the hip. He’s your only grounding force on this earth and you think he’s picking up on it. 
To the point he’s offered to drop his entire life an hour away just to stay for you. 
Yes, Jungwon recognizes how toxic and unhealthy the friendship has become, but he doesn’t know what else to do. He can’t just leave, nor does he want to. Even if he’s the one who leaves to get your mail, he’s the one who cooks, and he’s the one who holds you close at night, reminding you that time doesn’t have to mean a damn thing if you try hard enough to forget about the man who doesn’t experience it at all.
There’s no way you can get through a single day without him right now, and the thought of having to do it in the future scares you. 
You know it’s pathetic. You know you have no right to keep him in a box next to you as a comfort, you know he’s still got a life to live and romance to find. But…you hate it. 
“Eventually what?” He quirks a brow at you, having been concerned for you and the shift in your entire personality yet again tonight. You’ve changed for the worse, and it terrifies him to see you act so gone. 
“You’re gonna leave me here alone.” Your voice is small, cracking when you say it only because you hear the words ring in your ears. 
A pathetic whine, as if you’re speaking to someone else and not Jungwon. You’re not you anymore. No, you’ve become obsessed with the looping memories and feelings that took a mere four days to fall in love with. 
Addicted to emptiness but begging for Jungwon to forever be the crutch you stand on. 
You’re selfish and you have no fucking right to do this to him.
“Hey…” He rolls out of bed and steps up to you, easily putting a soothing hand against your shoulder. “Do you want me to stay?”
You nod. Knowing this same situation happens nearly every night. You panic, he soothes. You beg, he reminds you that he’s the one who offered in the first place. You ask him to stay, he confirms by asking you to let him.
And to him, he knows this is anything but a romantic partnership. You very much need someone here who is willing to play dumb but remain hyper aware. He wants to be this person for you because of his own selfish reasons too. 
It’s not all for you.
For one, he wants the girl back that he met last month. Secondly, he wants to see you learn and grow, because he knows you have a long and beautiful life ahead of you (and he better be fucking part of it.) And lastly, he’s never felt needed like this and there’s something in him that craves to be important too. 
It’s not too difficult for Jungwon to find people that’s important to him. Really, it never takes much. Perhaps someone held the door open for him, he’d probably jump in front of a bus for that person not two seconds later. But to feel just as important to someone else? 
He needs to be here with you. As toxic as it may seem to outsiders, Jungwon sees nothing wrong with being the person you need simply because you’re the person he needs too. 
“Then stop saying stupid shit.” He mopes now as he pulls you back to your bed and holds you much like he always does, trying to lighten the mood. “You’re always okay at work, but I swear the second we come home you’re falling apart.”
You freeze, falling apart instantly. 
“I wish you’d tell me what happened.” He says now, jumping into the typical routine of calming and soothing you. “I don’t know what to do when you get like this.”
You wish you would tell him too. 
But if he knew, that hope of ever seeing Sunghoon again would crumble. Already, Jungwon swears to you that he will never let this happen to you again. But you want it to, so, so badly. 
Even if you’re taking advantage of his care by letting him treat you like a child who can’t escape a tantrum, he really flipped his whole life because you chose to live in a crisis. 
You chose to do this to yourself and to Jungwon. 
Finally, you look up at him with your fingers gripping him.
“I ask so much from you.” You sniffle when you say it, immediately calming yourself and feeling like a fucking idiot for doing this. “I feel like I’m going insane.” 
He nods.
“You kind of are.” He confirms for you. “And you have to talk about it eventually, it’s just going to keep hurting if you don’t.”
He’s right. He’s always right. 
And like always, every single time you imagine how you’ll tell him, nothing in your brain can form a sentence. But you do try and by now, accustomed to your pain, you feel like something needs to be said before he grows tired of you too. 
“I don’t know why, but I wanted him to kill me so badly.” 
Saying it out loud doesn’t feel as good as you wanted it to, not with the way Jungwon’s face immediately contorts into panic.
“Wha-”
“But he wouldn’t do it.” You shake your head, refusing eye contact. “He’d do it to everyone else, but not to me.” 
“Wait, what?”
Maybe choosing to say that of all things was a mistake. After all, you did appear stumbling down the street near death already. Jungwon isn’t going to take what you’re saying lightly and you were stupid to believe otherwise.
“Have you ever smelled cinnamon?” You continue, trying to skew the conversation from his panic.
Jungwon is flipping his shit trying to make sense of your words. You wanted this guy to kill you? Well, he damn near fucking did and even now, while he’s not around, you’re practically dead already in terms of everything but breathing. And what the fuck do you mean he’d do it to everyone else?! 
Are you referring to an emotional death? Trying to make this shit sound poetic? Or did you really want to die? 
“What the fuck are you talking about?” Jungwon’s voice is stern but shaky. “Kill you how?” 
You shake your head.
“I don’t know.” You offer, knowing you’re just making it worse. “I wanted him to want me that badly.”
Jungwon drops his arms from you to pull back, dead-pan staring at you because he doesn’t know what to do or say to that. He forces himself to think of the reality of the situation. You’re just being poetic. You’re just being dramatic. 
He’s the same way when someone hurts him too, but still. Using such heavy words scares him, and he can’t just sit here and tell you it’ll be okay anymore. 
“But he doesn't.” Jungwon musters up the courage to say it, knowing you’re going to cry. “This weirdo literally tried to eat you alive, and he still doesn’t want you.” 
And you do cry again. 
“And now, you’re letting him kill you anyway?” Jungwon scoffs. “You’re begging me to stay here with you, just so I can watch you not even make an attempt to fucking get over it?” 
You know he’s telling you what you need to hear, doesn’t change the fact that you don’t want to hear it. The only thing you want to hear is Sunghoon and his lying words, telling you that Jungwon is full of shit. 
The worst part about it is that, it’s not even that you’re suicidal. You’re not. You like being alive. You’re just…you don’t know. You don’t fucking know why you wanted and still want Sunghoon to kill you.
Perhaps it’s because it would mean he needs you that much.
But he doesn’t need you, you’re not irresistible. 
And that hurts you. That man fucking slithered into your heart and made a nest there. You can’t get him out no matter how much you try. 
“He broke up with you. You were together for like, what? A few days?” Jungwon minimizes the situation unintentionally, panicking at the way a person he’s grown so close to has managed to be utterly fucking ripped apart by a singular man. “He broke up with you. That’s it. It’s time to stand up and move on, there’s better people out there that–”
“No.” You shake your head. “I broke up with him, I guess, if you can call it that.” 
Jungwon softens, tilting his head. Now he’s getting somewhere. 
“Why, then? Why did you break up with him when you didn’t want to?” Still, Jungwon is glad you chose to. Clearly you’re not as absent minded as you pretend to be. Seeing how littered your body was with pain, you knew you needed to leave, right? You weren’t really just going to let this guy wither you away, right?
“He was with someone else.” 
Jungwon shakes his head in pity. 
“What a scumbag. A total freak.” 
“But like, he needed to do it, I guess.” You try to explain without truly explaining. “I got mad and left because he was doing something he needed to do with someone that wasn’t me.” 
“He needed to cheat on you? Are you hearing yourself?” Jungwon questions, throwing his arms up. “He’s a nympho, babe, he probably manipulated the fuck out of you to make you think this way.”
And at that, you give up on talking about it. You feel too tired to continue. 
“I guess so.” You whisper out with a shrug, sniffling up the tears.
“He doesn’t deserve you. You can’t just…die for people.” Jungwon says, realizing that even he doesn’t follow his own advice. He’d probably die for you himself, but not because he craves it.
He’ll never understand why you wanted this man to “kill” you. In whatever way you meant, no one is worth owning that much of you. 
Jungwon hums though, knowing you’re tired now. He isn’t exactly being as soothing as he’d like to be right now but never has he seen a person act like this over a break up. Cheating hurts, of course, but you barely knew this guy. There’s no way there isn’t something else going on for you to say such insane fucking things. 
“You must’ve lost your damn mind to let someone do that to you.” Jungwon says against your hair, his soft voice not matching his words in the slightest. “I can’t believe you said that.”
“Me either.” You admit, feeling the insanity bubbling in your stomach and hating it. 
Still, the scent of cinnamon. 
“Do you smell it though?” You ask now, voice even weaker. 
Jungwon inhales deeply, releasing his breath with all of the frustration in his gut.
You feel it fan across your cheek warmly, minty, and you smile. 
“Cinnamon?” He asks, remembering your question from before. “Yeah, sometimes I can smell it.” 
You smile bigger now. 
・・・・・・・・・・・・・・
Another two weeks pass, only this time you are coming back to yourself. Which is strange, really. You were beginning to think you’d never feel like a person again after the first month passed. Then, within another few weeks you’re almost entirely back to yourself. 
You’re still a bit dissociated, which is likely due to the trauma of what you experienced and put yourself through but thankfully, the ticking-time spans you grew to hate forces itself now to be your new form of comfort. With each passing second, hour, day, and week, you’re slowly able to not forget, but accept and move on. 
Still, you know it’s going to fuck you up for years to come. You’ll always have the feeling of emptiness deep inside no matter how much the space shrinks. You have no choice now but to try and fill your life and time with things and people who matter to you. At least this way, you know that you matter too. 
And with this time spent away and healing, the scent has faded too. You can even go to work now without holding your breath or your eyes being forced to look at the source of the smell. In fact, you avoid taking even a glimpse of the looming cathedral. You don’t keep cinnamon in your apartment now either. You don’t take it with any of your beverages or food items, and you certainly shouldn’t be smelling it in the air anymore. 
Sometimes it’s still there though, turning your stomach in a way that’s both needy and sick. You still miss him and the feeling of ice, but you know better now. Why give up the ability to breathe without your throat burning? Why give up being a person that Jungwon actually wants to be around now? 
After all, you’ve started feeling so much better to the point that even he feels okay leaving you alone from time to time. Showers are back to being private, you can check your own mail, and a few times you were even able to go to work without him trying to force his way inside like his installation was still sitting on display. 
Which, it isn’t, by the way. Your boss had his name and face blacklisted, but still on most days he waltzed in like he owned the place. Every single time buckling the knees of your boss, every single time being allowed to stay. 
Thankfully, push came to shove and he landed himself a job there with you, his employment became official just today, actually. And as professional as the place was for you when you approached with your resume, it’s definitely not professional at all. They did pay Jungwon under the table several times just for doing shit you were supposed to be doing. 
The point is, even if Jungwon wasn’t able to make the effort to keep good on his word regarding moving into your apartment to stay beside you, he still likely would have pushed to at least work with you. 
Thankfully, he gets to do both those things. 
And despite the fact that he feels okay leaving you alone from time to time, there’s still an immense amount of anxiety about being away from you for too long. He knows that in time, it’ll pass and the two of you can live both near each other and apart, but for now? Might as well call him your husband because there’s no way in hell he’s gonna be doing his own thing without you. 
That leads to now. The same day Jungwon secured his employment, the same day you made it through without a single breakdown, the same night Jungwon needs to actually go back home to move his shit into this apartment with you.
“Come with me.” Jungwon comments, but you know it’s more of a demand. “You can meet my sister, just ignore if she makes jokes about us dating or something.”
You laugh. Genuinely, you laugh.
“Jokes? We both know you’re in love with me Jungwon. I’m just waiting for the ring at this point.” 
He laughs with a shrug, knowing he probably would marry you at this point, if just to protect you from all the people who wouldn’t care for you as much as he does. 
“Really though, come with me?” He asks again. “I’m still a little worried about leaving you here.”
“You’ll be back in the morning,” You start, trying to calm him down. You genuinely do feel okay right now. “I’ll just be sleeping the whole time, I'm tired anyway.”
Jungwon nods fondly, aware that it’s only practical that he make the move during the night hours. After all, his sister won’t be home otherwise and he does miss her. It’s true that you’ll probably just go to bed and he’ll be back before you even wake up tomorrow.
Still.
“You could just sleep in my old ro–”
“Wonnie.” You walk up to him and grab his face with both hands. “I’m fine.” 
He smiles at you, always loving the way you do your best to reassure him even through your worst breakdowns. You’re not breaking down right now though, and he can’t help but believe every word you say when you’re looking at him like this. 
“I swear to god if I come home and you so much as have a single bite mark on you, I’m burning this fucking city to the ground.” 
You roll your eyes, the memory stinging only a little bit. By now though, you’ve almost entirely forgotten how it felt in the first place. 
In fact, you’re shocked by the way you acted after leaving. So outside of yourself. Truly, you think you were going insane and Jungwon was right to confirm that for you. You’re lucky you had him here with you, because you likely would have ran right back into that fucking cathedral and–
Yeah. You would have done something dramatic. 
You didn’t though. And sure, you now know vampires exist or whatever but Sunghoon has not bothered you even once since you left. You hope he’s simply moved on so that your resolve doesn’t break. Jungwon worked so hard to make you feel better, and you worked just as hard. You can’t just feel bad that you don’t remember what Sunghoon’s fangs felt like against your skin.
If anything, you hope Sunghoon is freaked out by you leaving and knowing his secret. Maybe he thinks that if he tries to approach you again, you’ll tell everyone about what he is and what he did. Not that it would end with him in jail or anything. You’d probably end up in an asylum, actually, but still. 
And to Jungwon’s threats of arson, you simply pinch his cheek, being sure to sit your thumb right in his dimple. 
“Strictly no vampire kinks.” You smile at him, crossing both of your arms in front of yourself to create an X. 
“Good.” Jungwon nods back as he puts on his shoes and heads for the door. “Call me if you need anything, I’ll keep my volume turned up. You’ve got Jay’s number too, he can be here quickly if it’s an emergency.”
He feels content knowing that you’re about to be stuck with him for as long as he can manage. It’s just one short trip back home. A mere six or seven hours spent away while he packs the shit his sister probably “forgot” to box up for him, loading up the rented van, and then unloading it here. 
It’s just a short trip. You’ll be sleeping through it anyway. 
And when he’s gone, you feel tired. Keeping good on your promise of going to bed almost immediately. The feeling of being alone for the night is a bit uncomfortable, so sleep comes easy as a means to escape the inevitable over-thinking you’d probably do otherwise. 
No overthinking. 
It’s just a short trip. 
Jungwon will be back before you wake up. 
・・・・・・・・・・・・・・
Ah, to think it’s over. 
To think he’d leave you be? To think he wouldn’t be looming around every corner watching, waiting? If it weren’t for Jungwon, these weeks wouldn’t have passed so easily for you, that much is certain.
As if they were easy for you to get through at all. Jungwon, the very person who got you through it, was the reason he stayed away, the reason you were able to heal. 
Jungwon was the ward.
Was. 
Deep in your sleep it’s like your body knows. The same scent fills your nose just seconds after your sleep brain feels the goosebumps spread across your skin. Instantly, you wake up and back to insanity you go
You truly wake up. 
Your legs aren’t being carried by any force other than you own, and your mind is crisp and clear in your thoughts as you jump out of bed. 
Not walking, running to your apartment door. You swing open the door and don’t even look at him before slamming your entire weight against his chest and clinging like a lost child. You can feel the familiar cold fear filling your body, knowing that if he truly wanted to, he could kill you right now. 
All of the progress you made burns away within seconds. You’ve never felt so elated to ruin your own life. 
Even when he pushes you away, nothing at this moment could make you let him go. He’s here, he’s standing right there. Your fingers grip as he pushes you back in silence, stretching his garment out far beyond the bounds of which it was sewn to withstand. It rips, and still he shoves you further back from him all while stalking forward. 
Walking you back into your apartment, just to let the door slam behind him as he stands with a narrowed gaze fixated on you. 
You glance up at him only for a moment, loving the crazed look in his eye. Adoring that he must have missed you to appear so full of life like this. You can only compare his eyes now to the same eyes you saw when you ran away from him. 
As if they were burning on you. Or perhaps, for you? 
He’s dangerous, your body feels it instantly and all you can do is lean into it.
“That’s all it took for you to leave me?” Sunghoon bellows out in a spiteful voice, the sound sending pleasant shivers down your spine. “Had your blood boiling over some minx? I told you I didn’t want you witnessing it.” 
You soak in his voice like it’s your last supper, missing it so badly, adoring it even more. He speaks as if weeks haven’t passed, as if it’s a mere hour after you ran from him. You move forward to cling again, unable to think of words to say and opting to show how much you regret leaving through your actions.
Still, he pushes you away from him. A bit harder this time, to the point you almost topple over onto your back. You keep your balance only because it feels like you’re fucking floating just looking at him right now.
“I tried to pull you back to me, why did you fight it so hard?” He continues to fuss, as if he’s been thinking over and over again about all the words he wants to spit at you. Like he’s punishing you, and yet still struggling himself not to cling back. “Never has your aroma been so empty, so faint.”
You’re in shock but your body yearns for him, thankful to go back to square one. Like you’re special. Like you meant something enough to him that he’s here looking like he may give you what you’ve wanted all along. 
“Countless women. Countless men. Never you, and now you manage to hide from me?” His hand shoots to your neck, pushing you back further into your apartment. “How?” He grips dangerously tight as he continues to spew his breathless words. “You masked yourself with that– that floral boy, didn’t you?” 
You listen to his spiteful words like your favorite song, falling into each vibration of his vowels and consonants. Never has he spoken so much, and never have you heard his voice waver the way it is now. You can’t help but follow his movements with a smile on your face, swallowing through this tight grip on your throat. 
“You cannot fathom how hard it was to stop. Do you understand how much I want to fuck every last drop out of you? You should be thanking me.”
Oh, you’re so proud. So, so, fucking proud. The glee runs through you at his needy words, even if you know better. He’ll always feed on people who aren’t you, and he’ll always probably fuck them too. 
But does he show up at their house? Does he grow frustrated with them like this too? 
“Did you kill her when you were done?” You ask out through his choking hand, so confident that it makes him freeze on the spot.
He’s genuinely shocked that you’re not scared. You’re not intimidated. You don’t feel bad. No, you feel proud of being hunted. Like you take enjoyment out of his suffering, much like he does for you. 
On his part, it’s not intentional. You have to suffer to be next to him. 
Never has a person made him suffer too though. Fucking never would he have allowed it. God, he’s infatuated with you, utterly obsessed.
“Of course I killed her.” Sunghoon admits with his brow rising up, feeding into your ecstatic reaction of his death grip on you, only gripping tighter now. “Does that please you?” 
You’ve never been happier. 
And he moans out at the way you shyly nod, seemingly experiencing euphoria at his admittance of murder. Oh, if only you knew how good you smelled that night. Blood pumping for him, blood boiling in emotion for him. The woman didn’t last more than a minute after you left him. He couldn’t resist at that point. 
Seeing you, smelling you, fucking someone who he wished could have been you. 
He’s not prepared at all for this, for you. So willing, wanting what he’s trying to avoid doing to you.
That’s why he’s here though. Unprepared, but unable to resist any longer. He has pulled and pulled, every single day trying to lure you back to him against your will. He thought he was going to have to take you tonight against your wishes. 
But your eyes are sparkling for him. 
“No one’s heart has ever beat quite like yours when looking at me.” Sunghoon whispers now, falling and spiraling into this moment with you, losing his composure entirely. “So loud, each pump fucking gushes.”
“And I'll chase it every time.” He continues to ramble in a way that sounds like he’s in physical pain, like the amount of time you’ve stayed away from him genuinely hurts him. 
You still can’t respond though, your words are caught up in your throat right where his hand squeezes and you couldn’t even if you wanted to. He knows it too, and he didn’t intend to let you answer anyway because genuinely, he’s fucking losing himself. 
His hungry lips chase forward near instant after saying those words to you, not biting, just kissing. Tasting you rather than the blood that drives him. 
Because for some reason, that’s what he craves right now. 
“I beg.” He cries out against your tongue, relishing in the feeling of your life clutched in his hands, not even sure himself of what he’s begging for.
“Sunghoon,” You choke out his name with a gentle voice, pulling back from his bruising lips and throwing your arms up around his shoulders. “I bet you could smell my heart shatter too.” 
He moans at the strained words first and the out of body experience you lend to him second. His soul is always trapped within this dead skin, but you ascend him. 
Here, standing with his hands on your throat, you hold him? You say sly, mocking words? Oh, he can give you the world. He can give you anything you want. He can be whatever you want. Never has a person had this hold on him, and never could another person be able to do what you do. 
He can’t just let you go. He tried already. He’s supposed to be the one with the ability to hunt, lure, and pull. How is it that you do it to him? Your blood alone does it. The fact that all you need to do is exist within the same city and he’s ripping his bedroom walls apart wanting to get at you? He needs you. 
No. You’re not going anywhere this time. He’ll give up the taste of your sweet blood if he has to. The taste of your wet tongue is enough to satiate him by this point. The feeling of your neck beneath his hands, your pretty eyes urging him to strangle the life out of you.
He’d do it too. All you’d have to do is ask. He would do anything for you at this moment, no matter the cost. He will take anything you offer.
“Oh–” He groans first, licking his lips. “I could almost taste it.” His eyes darken more, somehow, as he leads you through the apartment. All the way until that same gaze causes your legs to buckle. He can’t help it by this point, after all, he knew coming here would end up this way.
There’s no self control when his hands release your neck, your buckled legs forcing you to fall against the floor, and he gladly topples with you. His hands immediately shoot to either side of your head, holding himself up just so he can dip down and inhale you. 
Fuck, he missed the way your skin smells more than he remembers. And trust, missing you was a daunting experience for him before he got here.
He inhales all over you, again and again. He trails his nose against both sides of your neck, up your cheek, into your hair, down to your neck again.
“So delicious.” He moans mindlessly. “Never have I missed someone so terribly.” 
“You were with someone else.” You continue your confident scolding with a scoff, only because of the way he’s losing himself on you. This is all you could ever want and reminding him of why you left feels elating. 
“My love,” He starts, speaking right up against your ear as one of his hands trails from your cheek to your waist. “My loyalty to your life is what I offered.”
Goddamn the confidence running through you smells stronger than anything he’s ever experienced. As if you didn’t already drive him to do things he never once considered. Oh, now? With you like this? He would die ten times more for you and you alone, if he could, anyway. 
“Do you not recognize that I would have drained you to death, if I didn’t want you here with me?” 
He lifts his head now, looking at you with so much adoration. 
“You’re not a simple meal, when will you understand that?”
And when you snicker at his desperate praise, he cannot fucking control the feelings within him.
“Your little floral friend is going to be devastated,” He admits with a rumbled voice, alluding to the inevitability of him coming here tonight. “You’ve begged me for this, and now I’m begging you.” 
You pause, feeling the butterflies in your stomach release in a deep breath. 
“Die for me.” Sunghoon whispers, dragging that same wandering hand straight between your legs and dipping into the wet heat he’s been missing so badly. No blood, just thick, hot, wet slick. “I beg.” 
You can barely comprehend his words through that ice cold feeling of his fingers pressing into you. He hums in the silence, looking straight into your eyes with the question. He’s very aware of the weight behind it too. 
“My love, please.” He continues, losing composure by the seconds as he feels how warm your wet walls are hugging his fingers. “Not in a thousand years have I wanted someone more than you.”
He continues pressing his fingers in, moaning himself at how good it feels, only to feel your moan fan against his cheeks in turn. It’s something that drives him only further from the self-control he fought so hard to keep. That warm breath represents the life within you that he intends to snuff out. If at all, to keep  you forever. 
“And not for a thousand years more–” He’s starting to babble, his once clear thoughts racing at being surrounded by everything that is you. “Please.” 
And his fingers only quicken with his thoughts, rendering you unable to answer even if you tried. The idea and confirmation in his head of not truly killing you drives him wild. It would be death, nonetheless, but not true death. For weeks he has suffered over the thoughts, always telling himself that he would never fate someone to a death such as his own. 
But you, oh you. The sublime blood within you pulled him harder than he believes he pulled you. Never in his thousands of years has he experienced such a thing, nor did he know such blood existed within a person. It drives him to feel for you. To adore you. To be entirely enamored with the fact that you have shattered him from within at both the thought of losing your blood, but wanting to take all of it. 
Still, he craves the taste of you to such an extent that you truly will die tonight, whether it’s against your will or not. It’s too late for him to reason with himself, feeling your walls wrapped around his fingers, seeing you act so mischievous towards his antics from before. At this point, just a blink of time compared to how long he’s lived, the decision is clearer than anything he thinks he’s ever had to choose. 
If he can’t have all of your blood, you’ll waste it on a death not nearly as beautiful as he can offer. 
If he can have all of your blood, perhaps he doesn’t have to lose you along with it. After all, it’s not just the blood at this point that makes him feel like a blood-drunk beast. No, no, no. It’s everything that is you. Your skin, the secretions of your body, the way your hands grip and the way your eyes blink. Blood-drunk, yes, but more so just drunk on you.
He can settle without the breath and without the blood if you’re willing to share meals with him for the remainder of time this earth has in the universe. 
Sunghoon’s mind is racing at the thought. Working too fast for him to focus on everything at once, but he tries. Tucking his fingers deep, nuzzling his nose into the crook of your neck and inhaling as deeply as he can. 
You’re feeling like you’re on top of the world in the way he falls apart on you, unable to comprehend that this is actually happening. Every word he’s said to you rings in your ears as if it were spoken in a language you can’t understand. With his fingers working you open, with his lips on your skin rather than his fangs…
You feel…different. Like he feels differently. 
And you can’t stop yourself from basking in the thought that he killed that woman. What was once jealousy that he didn’t want you enough to kill you has twisted and morphed into the thought that he kept you alive because he couldn’t stand not having you.
Every whispered word confirms it, and still you can’t comprehend fully what it is he’s trying to say. 
So, you focus and try to comprehend the feeling in your body that he’s offering instead. You have yearned for this cold within you. Missed it so badly you went insane. 
To think you’d ever truly get over him is arguably more insane than wanting him to kill you at all.
“Did you hear me?” He whispers against your ear, shoulders shifting with each plunge of his fingers, other hand clinging to your waist so tightly, almost pulling you to him. “You could be beside me,” He moves his lips across your neck, resting his lips against the moan you let out. “Forever.”
Oh, it clicks. 
And just as it clicks, he can hear your heart rate gushing the same blood he intends to take from you in full. Gushing, rushing through each vein and valve within you. Oh, he could truly devour you whole with how you’ve deprived him of this. He could leave not a trace of you left for the world to remember, but no. That would be worse than the beheadings that haunt his nightly visions. 
The sound of it rushing through you, god, it makes him feel like a mad man. He can’t help but prevent your timid answers in the midst of red hot desire. He pulls his hand out of you, spreading his palm against your healed thighs instead and spreads your legs out wide from under him. 
He’s quick to move down. No kissing, no biting, nothing like what he wants to do. He needs to satiate his desire somehow, and he doesn’t want to waste a single drop of your blood until the time comes. 
And when he pulls your sleep-shorts and panties off of you, he’s immediately licking a languid stripe up your glistening cunt. He remembers how it looked in red, the thought sending his body into overdrive at the taste of you now compared to that night. 
Still so sweet. Almost as good as the blood. Ah, it serves as a reminder that perhaps he can give up the blood after taking it from you. This alone is enough. So creamy, so slippery. 
Yes, yes. A confirmation. It’s you, not just your blood. It’s you he won’t live without. Your mind, your voice, the wet you spill, the cum you’ll let him fuck out of you. 
It’s always you. 
And he hums into it, licking into you as far as his tongue can manage. He braces both hands on your thighs just to spread them further, skewing his head to reach deeper, deeper, fucking deeper. Tasting you, smelling you, utterly obsessed with you. 
All you can do is shoot your hands down, forever waiting to feel his teeth sink into you but only feeling pleasure. So much pleasure. All of his freezing body parts just send consistent shivers up and down your spine. It’s like you can feel him under your skin when he does this, even with his hair tangled in your fingers as if you’re appreciating him for all of it. 
It’s so good. With the way he doesn’t need to breathe. He keeps his tongue in you, and even still you feel as if you don’t need your clit stimulated at all with the way he’s working his mouth so aggressively. And it’s good with the way his fingernails dig into your skin not yet enough to cause blood, unlike before. Good with the way he hums into you through it all, the same way he did when he’d feed on you.
Ah, it’s just, it’s good. It’s dreamy. All of it feels like a fantasy up until he does pull back. 
You look down in time with him looking up, those pretty eyes no longer looming and dark. Still crazed to an extent but you know they’re for you. 
“Sunghoon,” You whisper out, watching him closely with the way his eyes roll back at even hearing his name on your tongue so prettily. “Why aren’t you feeding?” 
You feel his fingernails leave more half moon shapes in your skin at the question. His eyes open in a half-lidded stare at you now, lips falling slack.
He looks so pretty, with the wet coating of his plush and pretty lips, your hands still tangled in his hair. 
He still just looks at you. He doesn’t breathe, doesn’t blink, and doesn’t answer. 
“You’re so quiet now.” You comment, feeling shy with the way he stares at you rather than your open pussy right in front of his mouth. “Say something.”
And within a single blink, his face is right up against yours, one hand still keeping your leg spread open, the other pinching your chin as he continues to stare.
“Let me have you.” 
You hear his words clearly this time, breath caught in your throat up until he kisses it out of you. He breathes you in deeply, trying to drown himself in all that is your life before what he will inevitably do. 
“Let me.” He pleads again, his eyebrows falling as if he’s in genuine pain to say it. 
Your arms reach around his neck, staring at him with so much confirmation in your eyes. You’d let him have anything he wants. Anything. 
And he groans at you, releasing your chin just to reach down to get his length out, appearing as though looking at you like this alone is enough to make him crumble to dust. He’s been aching this whole time too, since before he even left the cathedral. Borderline edging himself from both the pleasure of your body wrapped around him and the pleasure within you that would satiate his hunger just for a moment. 
He misses the feeling of you so badly. The warmth, the slide, the way you cling to him like nothing he could do would scare you. 
Just….one last time, he wants to feel warm. 
And he chases for the heat inside of you, sliding in without breaking eye contact, without waiting, without savoring it. 
It knocks the breath out of you again, forgetting just how cold it is when he settles in deep. So fucking deep. 
You wince in pain before moaning out to him, whispering his name in a drawn out sigh.
“Ah, my love,” He groans at your reaction, his hips immediately moving. “My pretty, pretty, love.”  Your walls hug him so perfectly, taking every inch with just a tiny wince.  “Will you still sound so lovely?”
You don’t understand the question, but you nod to him, wanting nothing more in this moment than to prove your worth to him. To please him. 
Such an insane woman, he thinks. Letting him take you and have you in whatever way he wishes. Whether living or dead, he truly believes every mindless nod you give to him. It’s clear, you’re just as deeply infatuated with him as he is with you.
Both of you would give and take happily, no matter what it is. 
And fuck he can feel your living pulse against him with each fast and torturous thrust, snapping his hips so quickly into you. He can’t help but fuck hard and with purpose. Slamming in and out with echoed slaps and mindless groans. 
Everything that you are could end him in an instant and all you can do is moan out for more. 
Oh, he gives it. Of course he does. He will give you anything. Everything. 
And it only becomes harder to resist when he kisses against your lips again, swallowing each moan of his name, exhaling it back out to you with the sound of your name. A mantra of two people, facing only death together and loving every heart-wrenching second of it. 
The cold within you flourishes with each sound in his throat, you squeeze around him, your legs hug against him, your arms wrap tightly against his neck as he kisses you. Your body can’t withstand the speed of his cock slamming into you for much longer without coming undone.
And he doesn’t stop, seemingly never growing tired. Up until he feels your body clench entirely around him, he clings back at you at the feeling, whispering handsome words and proud promises. 
“Already?” He grunted out first, hearing your blood rush and your muscles tense. “Ah, can hear it rushing through you, let it go, love.” 
And you do, you let it go despite wanting it to last longer. So, so much longer. 
He lends you a choked and inward groan at the way you react to his relentless thrusts, flexing his abs and pointing his cock as deeply into you as he can reach. And for the second time, Sunghoon feels the warmth of you spill over him. Prettier than the blood, your voice so, so, sexy choking out a string of curses just for his ears to adore.
“There you go.” He coos through it with his own groans, savoring every squeeze and squelch, adoring the sounds you make for him. 
And as he watches, he can’t help the feeling inside of him. Your heart is beating so fast through the pleasure only he can offer you, and he keeps doing it. Fucking you through the orgasm only to not stop after the fact either. 
It’ll be the last time he’ll ever feel heat like this on him. He can fuck any and every victim, but none will feel as good as you. Partially because you aren’t being manipulated, he has no hold on your mind right now. You’re not gripping and moaning because you’re in a daze, you’re doing it because you fucking want it.
God, having sex for the sake of sex is something he hasn’t done in a long time before you. Enjoying in the pleasure, fucking suffering through all of it. Truly, for him, if this is the last time your body will be warm, he’s going to take his goddamn time making sure you’re well aware of just how good you could have it if you let him keep you forever. Cold and dead, he’ll still love the feeling of your body.
So much that still, even with your orgasm dripping all over him, he pushes and he pushes. Thinking only of how he plans to drain you in more ways than once tonight. He can hold off for as long as he can with his own pleasure, because this alone is fucking bliss.
And he doesn’t care if he’s knocking the breath out of you, only because he knows that soon enough, you’ll never have to worry about breathing again.
・・・・・・・・・・・・・・
You’re unsure as to how long Sunghoon has been lying with you like this, but you were able to get a bit of rest against him. Even with your fingers feeling like ice wrapped up in his, you feel safe and at home here. 
Not because you are at home, but because he’s here with you. 
The night outside your window tells you that you’ve not been sleeping for long, but you can barely recall coming to your bedroom at all with him. He must have carried you here and cuddled himself up against you. 
You stir in his grasp, peeking an eye up at him. 
“You’ve rested enough?” Sunghoon smiles at you with saddened eyes, his pupils still blown and hair an absolute mess.  
You shift against him, turning to face him entirely. 
As he looks at you, all he can do is remind himself that he’s never considered fating someone with this curse until finding you. With your pretty jealous words and your intense need to have him take you out of this world all together. Never has he given the chance for another person to know him so deeply and have them react with only fondness and desire. 
This is his chance, isn’t it? To find forever? 
As monstrous as he is, he does still have desire. The feeling of loneliness isn’t meant to be grown accustomed to. For him at least. All of his fellow vampires have companions, and he swore he’d never do that to another person. 
Perhaps it’s because many of the vampires he has mingled with took their companions by force. He could see the disdain in their eyes, and that’s not something he thinks he could live with. But you don’t look at him like that. You slept soundly next to a man wanting to kill you. Actively struggling not to do it with each and every breath you take. 
And oh, since the start of his curse, the need to taste that last famed drop lured him to every meal he’s feasted on up until now. Such a delicious flavor, truly the best sensation running down his throat. To have you offer that last little sip to him? Ah, fuck.
 The feeling in his stomach flutters at the thought of turning someone for the first time. Knowing that someone will be you. Knowing that you wouldn’t be a companion filled with resentment and agony at your new life. 
It’s electrifying. Like his heart could beat again at any second because you truly make him feel like he’s never experienced death at all. Despite being surrounded by it, despite experiencing it himself, despite taking lives daily for thousands of years. 
It’s amazing to him, to love someone so much he’s willing to fate them with eternal thirst, congealed blood, glitter and gold, beautiful and ugly, accidental lures before intentional ones. 
Death.
Vile, cold, damp skin. Safe light of the moon, dust in the sun. The only threat is that of life itself.
Light. Sharp pointed dogwood stakes. Beheadings. 
But…a companion.
The life he could live with you, oh the joy that runs through him is far too beautiful. The forever life. Eternity. Living through it all, far surpassing the roaches and bacteria of this earth. With you. 
So many things you’ve forced him to understand. Loneliness, despair, want, need, envy. It’s been so long since he’s entertained petty mortal feelings, but you forced them into him and out of him. The only need he’s grown accustomed to was hunger and thirst. Never love, or warmth, or want. 
Oh, forever. The two of you could starve after draining every living soul. All it takes is for him to take that last gush of blood from you. 
Without the lure. Without the manipulation. 
Never would he perform the rite without your pleasant voice telling him to. Never would he want to spend eternity with a woman so luring who would want nothing more than to be the blade slicing through the bone in his neck. 
That legendary, utterly delicious, last drop of blood that he’s tasted so many times before. It’s different this time only because the blood isn’t for him and him alone now. He has to share it, and it pains him to know that none would taste quite like yours. 
The hardest part would be controlling his instinct of swallowing it instantly, rendering you dead and unmoving for the eternity he wishes to have you. 
A new feeling. 
Anxiety. 
Your death would be slow, a cold and dreary one, but it wouldn’t be lonely. He’d make sure you feel so good through it. He wouldn’t spill a drop. You’d be clean, avoiding a gruesome death otherwise. 
And time would be against him, because upon taking that last drop, he’d barely be able to savor it before continuing the rite. A final sip that he can’t even swallow. A final sip that must be fed to you. Blood leaving your veins only to slide down into your emptied stomach through dead lips.
There, a final exhale, and then forever inhales. 
You’d look so beautiful dying next to him. He’d hold you through it. 
Is fate so dreary in a moment like that? Where is he feeling something akin to love for the first time in lifetime after lifetime? Is he selfish to need you so badly? 
“You could have it all.” He inhales the words at your drowsy face nearing sleep again. The silence you lended after his last comment kept him in his head, and now he wants out of it. 
He hugs against you so tightly, trying to keep you awake despite knowing he likely fucked you too long and too hard.  Still, he wants to encourage a life with him for you. 
“I can give it all to you.”
You’re silent at his words as you listen to him. You soak them into your sleepy head and smile.
“Sunghoo-”
“I beg of you.” He answers for you, grabbing your face tightly and landing an immediate kiss against your lips. A deep kiss, one that…oh. He’s crying. 
You feel the cold wet hit your cheeks as he kisses. He does it before you can even move your own lips against him, but you do start to kiss him back. Your brows furrow in concern at this new emotion he’s showing to you, but your handles are gentle when you caress his cheeks through it. 
“Die for me.” He whispers through the kiss, trying not to let you pull back at the words. He knows now that you heard them loud and clear.
Oh.
Why is there nothing in this world that you want more?
“It’ll only hurt for a little while.” He tries to make it sound pretty with his soothing whispers, not yet realizing that he hasn’t cried in several centuries. “You’ll come back.”
“Are you asking me to–?” You breathe out for him, once, twice, and then never finish what you were trying to ask simply because he makes himself very clear.
“You can be like me, my love.” 
Your body pulses in fear, but the adrenaline hits you in all the right spots as you break eye contact to cling instead, this time shoving your nose up and against his neck. Wanting nothing more than this dead skin, needing nothing more than a man who wants to kill you. 
But Sunghoon doesn’t want to end you, no. He wants to keep you forever. 
And forever is different with Sunghoon. It’s never ending. 
Are you even prepared to never see an end? With the man whispering so sweetly to you? Absolutely. 
Would a split second decision like this ruin your life forever? What's forever anyway? When you have many lives to ruin and many more to deem a success if you choose to go with him. 
Die. Only to live forever? 
You nod once, then you shake your head. His arms wrap around you tightly at your indecisiveness. He’s content enough just knowing you’re considering it and truly, he’s trying to be patient. Waiting and well aware that the question is likely the hardest decision you’ll ever need to make. 
“I’ll beg again and again.” He whispers, feeling your panicked lips try to calm your breathing against his neck. Still, you’re clinging to him tightly and it makes him feel…happy. “I cannot fathom a death for you that’s not this. Forever gone from me.” 
You shake your head again, but then…you nod. 
“Will it hurt?” You ask, feeling your heart rate threaten to kill you before Sunghoon even gets the chance himself. 
“Tremendously.” He chuckles at the ignorance, though even he barely remembers the pain himself these days.
 “Only for a little while, darling. I told you.” He licks his lips, anticipating the blood running through you to run through him soon. The hunger is almost overcoming him now and if you don’t agree, he very well may end up killing you regardless.
And the thought pains him. 
If there was ever a time to hold himself back, it’s now.
“Don’t die without me here with you. Now or ever.” He continues in a sweet voice, trying to control the wavering breaks his throat is trying to force out of him. 
“Can I…” You stop yourself, squeezing your eyes shut. “Can I have a minute to think?” 
“Oh course,” He smiles to hide his frustration, pulling you back by your shoulders and sitting himself up against your bed. “But, the sun rises in three hours, and that’s three hours of fighting my urge to do it without your confirmation.”
You pause, finding comfort in the fact that he’s willing to suffer through your inevitable acceptance. There’s no way you’ll end up saying no to him, only because of how badly it hurt when you walked away from him. It rotted within you for weeks, and even when you thought you were better…all he had to do was stand outside your door to have you running to be in his arms.
What’s a bad decision when you could have lifetimes to make up for it? Even if said decision is what gives you those lifetimes. He’s asking for you to stay with him. To be with him. Isn’t that what you want?
But to die…
And you only cling to him through the fear, hoping he can save you from what he’s offering. He’s the comfort and the ultimate end. 
Or, perhaps, the ultimate beginning.
You’re not sure. You only found out vampires are real like two months ago. It’s not exactly something you can comprehend so quickly, but it is something you know you want more than anything if it means you can be next to Sunghoon. 
“Will it ease your fear if I talk about what it’s like to be me?” Sunghoon offers both a reason to give you insight, as well as distract his own mind during this moment of distress.
You nod immediately, hugging yourself so tightly to his side and trying to keep your nose up and against him simply because that brings you the most comfort. Smelling the faint cinnamon, feeling him against you. 
“I’m the first of my family to reside here, but I’ve been here for thirty years. Commoners aren’t aware as I try to remain hidden save for when I need to hunt.” He starts, continuing after hearing the way your heart calms. “But, city officials know very well who I am, and where I come from.” 
You listen, trying to take in his words as truth rather than fantasy. 
“I was born in seventeen thirty eight, overseas. Every few hundred years I’ll relocate simply because it becomes boring watching the same country grow and be destroyed. I ran from many wars, have lived many lives.” 
Oh. Okay.
“I know every language. I’ve lived every life you can imagine, worked every job you can think of to rid myself of boredom.” 
“So you weren’t always pretending to be a priest?” You try to make light of the fear within you, almost, somehow, wanting to snort at his choice of current lifestyle. 
“Ah, no.” He chuckles for you, rolling his eyes at how you mock him in the face of your own death. “I was a banker before this, I despised it. Only lasted about seven years before relocating here.”
A pause, you hear him chuckle. 
“I really despise numbers.”
In the calmness of his voice, within his gentle grasp, you feel comfortable. 
“Did you come for the cathedral?” 
He nods, holding you against him even tighter.
“History is protected, whether it be land, buildings, or people. It felt fitting to be a priest if I was to stumble inside parading as a drunken man needing a place to stay.” 
“How did you become, uh, what did she call you? Master?”
“Ah,” Another scoffed chuckle at your ignorance. “Did you believe them to be alive?” 
You freeze, body stiffening at the shock. They were fucking dead?! This whole time?!
“I slept in a cathedral full of fucking vampires?!” 
“You did.” He smiles. “But they are very well aware of what’s mine.”
He loves the way your face looks when you process words. He is more aware than you think of how insane all of this must sound to you. Yet, still, he has never truly lied to you. 
“They needed an order, so I brought that order. Thus, Master.” He smiles as he motions towards himself with you still in his grasp, as if he’s playfully boasting his own intelligence over the vampire-nuns. 
You pull back to look at him, feeling a bit calmer now in the way he describes countless lives and knowledge. You can’t experience any of that with the life you have right now. In fifty to sixty years you’ll be in an urn on your mother’s fireplace. 
Why would you want that when you could be in a bed with silk sheets? Or perhaps by then you’ll be able to travel elsewhere with Sunghoon, finding new beds with even softer sheets.
And only now do you realize that Sunghoon didn’t put you in danger at all. In fact, he knew he was dangerous and forced you to live. Even when you asked him to kill you. He…
Oh. Wow.
“Now, what is it, you think, that made you so special in regards to that woman you found me with? What is it, love? What do you believe kept me from ending your life to sustain my own?” And goddamn does it feel good to finally say it. Sunghoon loves the feeling of the words coming out of his mouth, finally spilling it all to you and seeing you only react with cheeky curiosity. 
“Why is that? Can you tell me?”
You’re silent as you think of his questions, unable to answer at all.  
“No…” You breathe out, knowing he can feel the hot breath against him only because his hand squeezes your waist. 
“I suppose after how long I’ve wandered this earth, even I am left with curiosities and questions too.” He smiles when he says it, thankful to know he hasn’t yet experienced everything there is. “I’d like to know why you have this hold on me too, darling.”
“Maybe it’s because I want it?” 
“Perhaps, yes. If you didn’t I likely would have savored every ounce of you already and for that, I should be thankful.” 
He shifts now, pressing you down against your bed and hovering over you with dark and sparkling eyes. His lips immediately go to your neck with the hunger he feels. Talking isn’t enough anymore. Holding you isn’t enough. He hasn’t eaten in days, and the fact that he could hold off even until now is strange to him. 
“Unlike many, you do not seek death–” He drags his lips against your skin, relishing in it. “You exist alongside it happily, you welcome it.” He continues to talk, his teeth now retracting against your skin and leaving little swollen scratches with each drag. “Perhaps had I not chosen to be a priest during this lifetime, you’d have already said yes.” 
“A singer? A dancer? Anything you wish for, I’ll become.” He smiles when he feels the goosebumps plump up under his teeth, and it’s so, so, hard not to bite. “So, won’t you stay? “
He listens so closely to your heart and breathing, nearly moaning at the need for it. 
“Watching you wither to death by anything other than my own teeth would surely have me seekinga dogwood.” 
Ah, so the fantasy movies and novels aren’t all wrong? So strange, truly, that he lives in a cathedral of crosses made from the very wood that could kill him. 
“We could be anything, go anywhere, dine on meals you merely taste but never need.”
He nods his head against your skin, hoping you’ll nod along with him, knowing that you will. 
“You could be mine, forever.” 
You’ve accepted him already, you just haven’t said so yet. He doesn’t mind sweet talking you though, reminding you of everything he can and will provide.
And to you, every single word he mutters is pretty, and everything you could ever need or want is right here. 
“I could be yours, forever.”
“I think–” You breathe out, hands now reaching up to scratch through his hair. “there is nothing I could want more than this.”
And the moment he gets that final word of confirmation out to you, he bites. The words you mutter drive him to it. He couldn’t even kiss you in appreciation simply because his instinct takes over. He lets go. 
Finally, he can let go. 
The need to control himself is no longer here, and it feels astounding. 
The sting is deep and it rings within you so loudly that you could hear the puncture vibrate your brain. Your ears burn at the direct puncture, and already you can feel his hands bracing you through it. As if he knows he’s never bitten you so deep in your pulse point like this. 
But the intention behind it somehow feels better than anything you’ve ever experienced. This is what you were jealous of and now you can only agree with your past self. There was good reason to be jealous of feeling this from him. Except, unlike that woman, he’s holding you through it. He’s grunting against your neck and swallowing large portions of your blood as the seconds pass. Losing himself with you. Almost as if he’s dying with you.
And he drinks, and drinks, and drinks, to the point your toes are feeling the sleep overtake them, then your legs, all the way up and down your body until your fingers are too weak to keep gripping against the locks of hair on the back of his neck.
You feel his fingers soothe you through the weakness when he pulls back, keeping his promise of not wasting a single drop. There is no blood smeared on him, only a trace of it on his inner lips as he watches your weakened expressions. 
He isn’t intentionally draining you so quickly, but…fuck. The blood. That glorious scent and taste was already too much to bear, but now? Knowing he gets all of it save for the best and final sip? He genuinely can’t help it. Controlling himself now after how long he’s held back? 
Darling, you asked for this. 
And his body reacts in aroused euphoria. Already he feels an orgasm bubble up just witnessing you die for him. Even then, he barely feels the heightened pleasure because the mind, dead or not, simply cannot comprehend the pure potent pleasure he’s experiencing.
He spills out all over himself, while you spill out for him. Your life, your very being. 
How can he not be terribly, horrifyingly, utterly stupendously in love with you? 
“My love, the light in your eyes will come back soon.” He smiles as he watches what happens to you through this, and then throws his head back in manic pleasure with a deep and animalistic moan. Arguably, even his eyes hold more life than yours right now. 
So, so beautiful. 
You’re too weak to speak, but you shake your head. Nothing is a pain to lose, nothing except him. 
And you find comfort in the way he sinks his teeth right back into those puncture marks. Sucking more and more out of you with a content smile on his face. He doesn’t think he could ever feel happier, knowing you’re giving him everything, and he wants nothing more than to return the favor to you.
Oh, how he wishes it were you sucking the life out of his veins. You’d be so gentle, you’d look so pretty losing your mind like he is right now. 
You continue to feel your body grow numb, up to the point that your heart rate slows at the loss of blood. To the point you can tell he’s sucking harder and harder just to get more. You feel a weight shift inside of your body, it writhes and chokes every inch of your innards. 
Shrivelling, spiraling, cramping. 
If you could curl in on yourself right now, you would, but you’re too weak even for that. You can’t even twitch a finger against Sunghoon at this moment as you feel everything within you dehydrate and search for life. 
It hurts. 
Badly. So badly that at this moment, you can’t remember a single thing that has ever felt good. In fact, everything is painful. Life is painful and horrifyingly full of things that will hurt you. But–Sunghoon is here. That much, you still recognize. Even through the pain, and even through the twisting inside of you, he remains constant. He’s soothing you through it well past the comprehension of your dying brain. 
You can’t shiver at the loss of warmth, but you do try to take a breath. Working your weak body to near exhaustion just at the act of trying to expand your lungs. And oh, you can’t even open your eyes at the way the last breath doesn’t come. You must have lost it already. 
And then, darkness. 
Nothing. 
And it feels like this for an eternity. Nothing to see, nothing to feel, nothing to fear or love. 
Absolutely fucking nothing. And to think humanity has built governments off promised afterlifes? To think anything ever mattered in the first place? The emptiness soothes and relieves your still working soul, wisping in the darkness for eternities more it seems. 
To the point names and faces leave you, and all you can think, feel, or hear is that of unfilled space and pure, deafening, silence. You cannot feel content, or peace, or happiness here. You just feel nothing. And it truly feels good to be nothing. 
Until there's warmth. You feel it somewhere hugging you, or perhaps inside of you? Do you even have a body to hold warmth now within this vast void of darkness? Why do you hear…?
Feelings come back to you tenfold. Seemingly experiencing everything you’ve ever felt and lived through all at once. That deafening silence becomes louder, louder, louder, until– it flourishes in the pit of your belly.
So much chaos within you. Swirling and bubbling in such a way that it fucking blooms in this darkness. You feel like you’re burning, freezing, dying, living, fucking drowning all at once. 
That flourish forces the nothingness out of you. As comfortable as this place is, there is nothing and you want something. You need something. You crave…something.
A little dribble running down your throat leaving a trail of warm, blooming heat. As if you just swallowed a sun-ray itself. Only now can you feel your body again enough to know where the heat is coming from. It blossoms within you, increasing each sense within your body tenfold. 
It doesn’t hurt. 
Only now do you recognize that it’s silent again, as if you were slammed into a wall by the force of the god you now know does not exist. You feel yourself restrict under skin, you feel cold, you feel…heavy. 
And the silence is still too loud to be so restricted. You miss the sounds of what you must have unintentionally listened to every waking moment of your life. The only true soundtrack of a living, loving, and heat-radiating being. 
No heart-beat. No whirring of blood. No rumbling in your stomach. Nothing.
And yet still, it doesn’t hurt. 
Just a bouquet in the pits in your belly. Your precious life, all summed up in that single diluted sip of blood. 
And somehow, someway, you regain your strength faster than it took for you to lose it. You open your eyes on instinct and the world is glowing. Sunghoon is glowing. As lifeless as you are, and as empty as your brain is at this moment, you reach out to him immediately.
But he has yet to let go of you since all of this started. He stayed. He held you, just like he said he would. 
“Did it hurt badly?” Sunghoon calls out to you, helping your mind awaken again. 
He barely remembers the pain he went through when it happened to him. Truly, pain is so temporary, so meaningless to indulge but, the curiosity still sits with him. 
After watching you for upwards of two hours to both die and come back to life, he can’t help but wonder if it was anything like what he experienced. 
Even with that curiosity though, seeing you open your eyes for the first time in your new life fills Sunghoon with overwhelming glee. To the point he feels like a child, wanting to ask so many questions, thoughts shifting from this, to that, up until all his thoughts run together and all he can do is squeeze you in his grasp. 
He’d have pulled down the stars if he could just so it could be your first view of the afterlife with him. But alas, he couldn’t step away even for a moment. He needed to be with you, not just for your sake, but his own. 
You’re cold now, but oh, the blood within him could satiate him for hundreds of years. It’s gone from you now, and he fears not missing it. Not when you’re here. Not when you chose to be here with him. 
You weakly nod to him, amazed at being able to do it again. Already the pain you’d previously felt feels like a long lost memory as you stare back at him. 
“I’m sorry.” He smiles through the apology, unable to pretend he means the words at all. “I didn’t intend to drain you so quickly. My poor love, you must have felt miserable.” 
You nod again, feeling him so tightly against you.
Only just realizing that he’s holding you. Your body, it’s coming back to you. You can feel sensations again. 
“I feel–” Your voice cracks with a dry throat and you inhale.
On instinct, you try to exhale but your throat just gets drier and drier. 
“I–”
Sunghoon coos, shushing you with a gentle kiss. Lending you his own saliva because if there’s one thing he can remember, it’s the act of learning how to…not breathe. 
“Slowly, love, slowly.” He smiles when he pulls back, watching you swallow around his gift and instantly droop your eyes again. 
“You’ve only just died and you have all the time in this world to speak, no need to do it now.” 
And he’s right. You’re spinning, yet balanced. Fuzzy yet smooth. You are everything and nothing at this moment with your glowing after-death aroma. Sunghoon smiles, cradling the back of your head. 
Finally, he’s gotten to drink you in full. No true death, and he feels more elated than he ever expected. Almost lulled to sleep at the scent of you disappearing. Never will he taste your blood again, but you. He has you now. Knowing you had a taste at all is enough. Knowing that he has broken for you enough to beg you.
To beg you to die for him just to be with him on a level deeper than thirst. 
Never once has he wanted someone like this.
And never once had he expected you to agree with him. 
The moment is sweet with him, and still you’ve yet to comprehend the truth reality of your life now. You know at least, that it could take longer than you’d have had previously to figure it out. You did this to be with someone, and that someone is right here next to you. Smiling, clinging, seemingly ecstatic to know he’s no longer alone. 
A forever companion, truly this time. 
And as sweet as the moment is, time still moves even after becoming ageless. 
“The sun will rise soon,” Sunghoon hums at your reluctant gaze at the window. “Shall we go home?”
You would nod. Truly, you would, if it weren’t for that suffocating scent entering your nose. 
Roses? No, tulips?
Lavender? 
Your belly pangs, a dry and itchy feeling overtaking your entire being. To the point that Sunghoon clinging to you can’t even calm the itch. The world stops at the scent, so strong and sweet. 
Sunghoon smells it too though, and he knows. He’s experienced it time and time again, though he’s long since learned how to control it, clearly. He purses his lips in frustration. You’ve only just come back, and he’d very much like to get you home with him so that you can learn and grow accustomed to this life. You need to realize that you haven’t even experienced the hardest part yet. 
Disappearing. 
After all, his intention was to hunt for you, teach you, comfort you. There’s so much to do now that the deed is done, and he hadn’t prepared for interruptions such as this.
Unfortunately, he knows very well the thirst. You won’t be able to control it, especially considering he knows this scent too. He has to force himself to try and lend you alluring words, but they seem to go through one ear and out the other. 
Your brain is empty at the scent. 
“Ah, what a turn of events.” He tics his tongue with a smile. “I smell him too.”
Your eyes do not reach Sunghoon at all, but he understands. Even with the jealousy in his gut. 
A key clicking into a lock, a turn of the knob. The sound is amplified in your ears along with the scent. 
“Wake up and help me unload all this shit!” 
Oh, what a shame. 
You really loved Jungwon. 
“Can you smell it flowing through him?” Sunghoon smiles at the light in your eye now, endeared by the way scent ignites you entirely. As envious of Jungwon as he is to hold certain parts of you when he couldn’t do it himself, seeing the way you react arouses him beyond belief. 
Your first feeling of thirst. 
“Shall I greet him?” 
・・・・・・・・・・・・・・
Jungwon peers at the stoic figure that appeared from your bedroom. His first thought is that he’s going to kick your fucking ass because number one, this better not be who he thinks it is. And number two–
There is no number two. A mere three seconds after stepping into his new home with you, his mind goes fuzzy. Thinking only of you, of needing to see you, of needing to make sure you’re okay. 
He wants to know if you slept well, and if you were able to have any sweet dreams without him here. 
“Jungwon, I take it?” Sunghoon lends him a lively smile, impressed by the pull you unintentionally lay on the guy. 
“Ah, yeah.” Jungwon weakly scratches the back of his neck before feeling his body move on its own. “Where is she? I need to see her.” 
It’s a pity, really, but Sunghoon has seen it time and time again with his own victims. A weak mind, one that is easily broken and even easier to lure. It’s kind of cute really, seeing how breathing humans cling to what balances them. 
He almost feels bad for taking you from Jungwon, but he doesn't only because he hates that he has to see you drink from someone you were attached to. He knows it’ll hurt you when you realize, and he no longer wants to see you hurt after witnessing your death.
As beautiful as it was. 
Jungwon truly chases you, stepping through the apartment and dropping everything in his hands without care. He heads straight to your room, swallowed in a somber smile and a welcome scent. One that he doesn’t know is death.
“Wonnie.” You rasp sweetly. “Come here.” 
There’s no reluctance within him, even upon hearing Sunghoon close the door behind him and lock it. Even when the man looms at the door, watching, narrowing his eyes at you in jealousy. 
You ignore it as you grow enamored with Jungwon at this moment. Is this what his life smells like? So pretty, it truly fits him. 
And it drowns out all of your thoughts. The flowers, like a fresh spring day with no worry. You think it’s your favorite smell in the world as you inhale him with each step he takes toward you. 
For Jungwon, even upon feeling you grip his shirt, pulling him closer than he’s ever been to you without the excuse of comfort, he pays no mind. He missed this bubble he shared with you, the single night with his sister almost felt like agony to be away from you.
After all, the love he holds for you is truly deeper than romance. There is no need for any physicality between the two of you, yet…he welcomes it at this moment. In fact, he’s entirely aroused, stiffening in his pants at the sheer blissful anxiety your uncanny smile and shining eyes lend to him. 
Did you truly miss him so much? 
“You look so pretty…” He trails off, closing his eyes as he feels you caress his warm cheeks. “Your hands are so cold, let me—ah” 
You’ve never felt an instinct quite like this. You could truly hear it, the pulse of his heart. You can still smell his sweet scent, and you truly weren’t in control of your own body when you gripped him, lifted, and sank your teeth right against his pulse point. 
Jungwon moans at the bite, drifting off entirely at first contact. 
All while Sunghoon continues to loom. Watching with weight in his pants. The way you bite so messily, spilling blood and wasting it as it trickles down Jungwon’s throat. The small sounds your mouth makes as you suck has him throbbing non-stop, to the point he almost needs to hold onto something just to keep from jumping on you, just to keep from tasting Jungwon himself.
And, oh, his pretty love, you have so much to adapt to. 
It appears he does as well. 
As he watches the furrow of your brows at the first taste falling to that of relief and pleasure as you drink, and you drink, and you drink, until–
Sunghoon smirks now, quirking his brow at how you stop yourself before he needs to step in and separate the two of you. In all honesty, he was unsure if he’d be able to give in and stop you either. After all, killing Jungwon now would prove easier than letting him live.
The fact that you stopped yourself though. Perhaps your mind grew more stubborn and strong-willed through death. He nearly cannot believe that you aren’t draining the man dry right now. 
And you aren’t even sure yourself why you do. The feeling in your gut is full and satiated, but the grip Jungwon has on you only grows more and more limp. You love the way he clings as much as the taste, and even through his slumber, he clinged so tight. 
Not so much now though, and that scared you. So, you let go. 
If only because truly, you do love Jungwon. Enough to no longer pull him into your messes despite forcing him to become one at this moment. What’s even more scary is though, even with all of the endearment you held towards him in life, the feeling is only amplified now. These new bitter and floral scents pulsing through him makes you want to protect him from any leech wanting to drink it out of him.
Even if you’re the leech. 
Ah, he tasted like honey suckle, and it dropped down your throat like honey too. Warm, gentle, pretty. Just like him. 
And you have to continue to keep yourself from sinking your teeth into him. Your stomach is greedy, wanting more, but too in love with the life he has and willingly wanted to share with you as a best friend and forever comfort. 
Forever for Jungwon is nothing but a moment to you now, but it’s one you hope he enjoys, at least. 
And when you hold him against you, so weak and sound asleep, you look at Sunghoon. The tears fall so, so, cold against your cheeks. The heightened senses within you become overwhelming with the horrifying silence and intense smell of floral blood wafting through your nose. 
“Much like you, he won’t remember. You lured him deeply, love, did you know that? He was asleep from the moment he saw you.” 
You pause, nodding as the tears continue to fall. 
“Brilliant.” He compliments now, moving to hold you as you cling to Jungwon. 
“Sunghoon, did my blood taste like that?” 
Sunghoon kisses you once, sucking Jungwon’s blood from your tongue. 
“Ah,” He chokes. “Absolutely not.”
You pause at his scrunched nose. 
“You were much sweeter.” He whispers sweetly, fondly, tilting his head to kiss against you again, licking the mess of Jungwon’s blood from your lips, chin, and neck. Still, he chokes it down. “I’ll miss it.”
“What did it taste like?” Your weak and dry voice falters repeatedly, but you need to speak right now.
“You tell me.” 
You only slightly remember the flavor as you were brought back. Warm, blooming, spicy, sickeningly sweet. 
“I have never tasted anything compared to it…” 
“Exactly.” Sunghoon smiles, inhaling deeply and lending no breath against your skin when he scrapes his teeth there. “Like the sun.” He hums, nosing down to your neck and inhaling again, arms only slightly trying to push Jungwon out of your grasp. “Like the one thing that could get me killed.” 
You cling tightly to your best friend though, not wanting any more harm to come to him. Still, you stare at Sunghoon’s sweet words, finding yourself smiling at all that is to be gained rather than lost. 
Your life. The light outside, the light in your eyes, the warmth. 
Not Jungwon though. 
“You don’t intend to leave him be, no?” Sunghoon furrows a brow at how your face rises for him, but falls instantly at inhaling Jungwon’s blood. 
You frantically shake your head. 
“We’ll figure something out, love.” He says now, looking away from you and doing his best to ignore the envy that fills him time and time again when this floral-boy is near. 
He told you he’d do anything for you, give anything to you. 
If that includes Jungwon….
Ah, always so fucking stubborn. 
・・・・・・・・・・・・・・
The sun rises and falls. 
Repeatedly, for months. 
Jungwon wakes himself with the warm sun hitting his face, the bed just as warm from his own body heat. He loves this space, and adores the way that even if it’s only him, he never feels lonely with that pretty smell in the air. 
Every morning when he wakes up, and every night before he goes to bed.
The shock of learning the inevitable still hurts him from time to time, but still, he smiles with that dimple you threatened you’d steal right off his face if he chose not to show it to you. 
His hand reaches to his neck, the single wound you gave him and apologized profusely for after. It’s healed well.
And when his phone vibrates in the middle of the day, he wonders why you’re awake. 
You: wonnie
Wonnie: wat
You: come over
Wonnie: was wondering why you were trying so hard. nearly suffocated this morning. 
You: and you were fighting it? asshole
Wonnie: be over in a few, stinky
And as strange as it is, Sunghoon doesn’t mind that you wouldn’t let Jungwon go. After several conversations needing reassurance that you’re not trying to spend your forever elsewhere, anyway.
Really, to think you’d die for him but want someone else? Sunghoon truly is insane, but so are you. 
And it works. 
Because Jungwon loves insanity, even if he hates Sunghoon with a passion. Even if he can only see you with Sunghoon in the room too. Even if you’re dead. 
You’re still his best friend, and he doesn’t mind helping you disappear as long as it’s not from him. 
・・・・・・・・・・・・・・
not me accidentally making this a sunghoon ft.jungwon fic. 
Fanart by @a-the-na 🖤🖤🖤🖤
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839 notes · View notes
lustfulslxt · 9 months
Note
hi hi! "local" anon here, and i just had a rlly good idea that ik you will deliver perfectly.
matt "accidently" sends reader a d pick and she's all flustered but just doesn't say anything, until like the next day when they all like go out to dinner and everyone's in their own conversation. she just brings it up like, "so what was that pic you sent last night?" and he knows EXACTLY what she's talking about, but is all like "huh? what?"
but then, later that night, she ends up sending a risky pic of her own and then he just texts her saying to like 'come over immediately' or he's coming over to her house and then yk what!!
again, i love your writing and i know you will NOT disappoint with this!! Love you ! 😘
Take The Risk - Matt Sturniolo
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warnings : spicy pics and smuttt
a/n : finally!! am i right?? pls look the other way if this is shit, like actually fr.. lmaoooo
“This is actually impossible. I’m gonna die of old age before I finish this thing.” I groan to myself, letting my head fall forward onto the table.
It’s been weeks of me staring at all of these pieces, all the exact same, aside from the shape. I’m determined to complete it. I lift my head up, an irregular piece slowly falling from my forehead.
“Who came up with this shit? Why are they so against me?” I ask no one in particular, seeing as I’m completely alone.
I’m convinced whoever created this was just trying to spite me. I can never back of out a challenge, they had to have known that. It’s been hours since I first sat down to work on it today, I am bored out of my mind, but I still can’t put the pieces down. Just as I’m about to toss my head back and cry from frustration, I realize I only have five pieces left. I jump forward, laying them all out in front of me, studying their pattern and the way they could all fit together. It takes maybe another ten minutes before I finally get it.
The last asymmetrical piece, snaps into place, completing the array of silver configuration. Twenty two days, six hundred fifty four pieces later. There she sits, in all her glory. Silver (Krypt), the hardest jigsaw puzzle to solve. This puzzle has no pictures, instead, it simply consists of hundreds of silver pieces, with a circular center and surrounding pieces making the finished jigsaw a plain rectangle. I put my blood, sweat, and tears into this thing.
“Never back down, never what?!” I exclaim, jumping up from my seated position, only now realizing how bad my posture is from the ache in my back. I reach my hand around, holding my back as I groan, “Fuck.”
Straightening up, I grab my phone and immediately snap a picture of the completed puzzle. I just have to show Matt, he’s going to be thrilled. I send the photo to him on snapchat, then head to my kitchen. I grab a bottle of water and a bag of chips to snack on, then go upstairs to relax in my bedroom. Once I put my show on the TV, I notice a notification from Matt.
Matty B
NO WAY YOU FINISHED IT
Me
I DID
Matty B
only took you a month lmao
Me
BYE
it was hard asf 👹
Matty B
me too
Me
UM EXCUSE ME
Matty B
whattt
myb
Me
🌚 you can’t just say that then b like ‘mY bAd’
Matty B
i didn’t mean it
Me
oh
Matty B
congrats on finishing the puzzle tho
now i don’t have to listen to you complaining about the creator being against you
Me
blocked.
Matty B
LMFAO
bro. i was joke
Me
awesome to hear bro
I roll away from my phone, grabbing my chips to eat while I watch TV. An hour goes by, before I make my way to the bathroom. I wash my face and brush my teeth, then strip into my pajamas to finally go to sleep. Walking back into my room, I grab my phone to check one last time. As I plug my charger into it, I notice a snapchat from Matt. Upon opening it, my jaw drops.
There, on my screen, is a picture of a dick. Matt’s dick; fully erect, veins dancing alongside it, the tip pink with dribbles of precum. His hand sits at the base, unintentionally giving me a visual comparison of the size, and boy, it’s something. I can’t help but lick my lips at the sight, before snapping out of it and realizing my best friend just sent me a picture of his cock.
I’m at a loss for words. I can’t even think properly, far from being able to articulate a response. So, I just lock my phone and lay down. Yet, every time I close my eyes, I see his dick staring back at me, begging to be touched. I can feel the arousal building in me, my walls now clenching around nothing. Tossing and turning, attempting to ignore the growing desire, I deeply sigh. It’s going to be a long night.
-
I look at my phone screen, observing myself in my front camera. I’m currently about to walk into the restaurant where I’m having dinner with Matt, Nick, Chris, Nate, and Madi. I haven’t addressed the picture Matt sent me yesterday, and he hasn’t brought it up either, but it’s still lingering in my mind.
Putting my phone away, I lock my car and strut towards the entrance of the restaurant. Upon entering, a hostess greets me and directs to the table where my friends reside.
“Y/N!” Nate cheers, causing the rest of them to look over at me, smiles appearing on all of their faces.
“Hey guys, sorry I’m a little late.” I apologize, scooting in next to Matt.
“You’re all good, I ordered your drink already.” Matt informs me, “They should be coming around shortly.”
I smile, “Thanks, Matty.”
Within five minutes, we all receive our drinks and order our food. While waiting on our meals, we resume light conversation. However, I cannot stop thinking about the picture Matt sent me. Every time I look at him, I feel my heart beat faster and my breath gets caught in my throat. Are we just going to forget about it? Is that what he expects? I can’t just forget.
As the other four indulge in their own conversations, I notice Matt is silent, so I use this as my chance to confront him about it.
“Matt?” I call out, loud enough for him to hear me, yet quiet enough so the others don’t.
His directs his attention to me, softly humming in response as his eyebrows raise, expectantly.
“Um, about yesterday..” I trail off, attempting to read his body language.
I see him slightly tense up, clearing his throat as he looks at me, feigning confusion, “What?”
I give him a pointed look, “That picture you sent last night.”
He looks around as if trying to rack his brain, his eyebrows furrowing as he shrugs, “What are you talking about?”
I sigh, coming to a realization that I’m going to get nowhere with this. He knows what I’m talking about. I know he knows, I can see it all over him. Two can play at that game.
I clearly my throat and shake my head, “Actually nothing, forget about it.”
For the rest of the evening, we don’t speak on that topic again. We all just enjoy our food and the company of each other.
After dinner, I arrive home and immediately head to the bathroom for a shower. The entire night, my mind has been stuck on Matthew, wishing we talked about it, longing for more. We’ve never been anything other than friends, but he lit something in me, a fire that I can’t seem to put out. Should I call him over it? Should I do what he did to me?
After getting dressed in nothing but a black lingerie set, I sit in front of my bedroom mirror. I do look good, but should I really do this? Just take a picture and send it? I give myself another once over, before deciding to turn around and lean forward, snapping a quick photo.
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I don’t know how much time has passed as I sit there, staring at my screen. My fingers hover over the picture, unsure of what to say, or if I should say anything at all. Taking a deep breath, I full send, then quickly put my phone down, suddenly ridden with more anxiety as I anticipate his response.
Hopefully I’m not reading more into this situation than what it is. Surely Matt is just playing hard to get. If he didn’t mean to send the picture, he would’ve just said that, right? I try to convince myself that he’s just being a tease, but the more I think about it, the more the pit in my stomach grows. After what feels like forever, I reach for my phone and my immediately face falls.
Opened 12 minutes ago.
Before I can even think a single thought, knocks on my front door sound throughout the silent atmosphere. Swallowing the lump in my throat, I grab my black silk robe and slip it on while walking towards the door. Peeking through the peephole, I see Matt standing there, looking antsy. I freeze, my hand stuck on the doorknob, unable to complete the motion of turning it. I toss my head back, taking a deep breath, before pulling the door open. His eyes light up once he sees me, his gaze flickering over my figure before he makes his way inside.
Within seconds, his lips are on mine, needy and desperate. Taking a few seconds to get over the initial shock, my lips move against his, my hands looping around his neck as his hands pull me in closer by my waist. Without removing his lips from mine, he kicks the door shut and walks me backwards, towards my couch.
As soon as my legs hit the side, he pulls back and asks, “Is this okay?”
I eagerly nod, “More than okay.”
A small grin pulls to his lips before they’re back on mine, kissing me with so much hunger. His hands grope at every one of my curves, squeezing and kneading my skin. His hands suddenly grab my robe, pulling it down my arms and letting it fall behind me, before he pulls away and takes in my appearance once again. He licks his lips and tugs his bottom lip between his teeth, and I can see the bulge stiffening in his pants.
“Fuck, you’re so fine.” He groans, pulling me back into him.
His hands forcefully grab my face and he slams his lips onto mine once again, pulling our bodies flush together. My hands tread through his hair, tugging as he turns my head to the side and moves his mouth to work down my jaw to my neck. His breath is hot against my skin, his tongue licking and his teeth biting. I can feel my arousal pool in between my legs, and I have to squeeze them together to relieve the tension. His hands travel down to my ass, tightly squeezing and massaging it, only making me more wet as I let out a soft moan.
He pulls away and rests his forehead on mine, “What do you want, baby?”
I lick my lips, letting out a breath, “You. I want you, Matt.”
Instantly, he pulls his shirt off and comes back to me, pressing his lips on mine again. I reach behind my back, unhooking my bra and letting it fall down my arms and onto the floor. His hands immediately make their way to my boobs, and I’m melting in his palms. He grips them tenderly yet firm, pulling more moans from me. He leans forward and takes one of my nipples in his mouth, sucking on it as he pinches the opposite one.
The desire in me grows stronger with every touch he graces me with. He knows what he’s doing, and I’m weak in the knees because of it. Kissing me with so much passion and lust, his fingers slip into the waistband of my bottoms, pulling them down with ease, only breaking the kiss to fully remove them. My hands tug at his pants, wanting him to take those off as well, which he does, along with his boxers. We’re left standing, completely naked, and hungry for one another.
He places a couple of soft kisses against my lips, before quickly spinning me around and bending me over the side of the couch. His hands travel down my back, applying just the right amount of pressure, causing me to clench in anticipation. His fingers dig into the skin of my ass, jiggling it, and gripping it with enough strength to surely leave bruises. One of his hands breaks away from me, only to come right back with extreme speed and force. I yelp, jerking forward at the feeling of his hand colliding with my bare skin, a moan soon following as he rubs the place he smacked.
“Just wanna make you feel good, baby.” He whispers against my ear, his fingers trailing between my legs, running over my core.
I let out a whimper, pushing back against his hand for more, but his other hand places a firm hold on my back, keeping me in place. His fingers run through my folds, becoming slick with my wetness, causing him to let out a groan. His fingertips rub my clit in slow and soft circles, adding more pressure and speed with every second, leaving me quivering with moans.
“Mm, such a good girl.” He praises, sinking two fingers into my entrance, ripping a loud moan from my mouth.
“Just wanna be a good girl for you.” I find myself saying in between the whimpers of pleasure.
His pace increases, his fingers pumping in and out of me while his other hand runs up and down my back. I could feel the orgasm building so quickly, begging for release. His hand moves from my back, and starts tracing circles onto my clit once more, his fingers inside me going even faster. My legs start shaking and I’m now putting all my weight onto the couch, way too weak to stand on my own.
“So wet.” Matt mumbles in delight at the sound of his fingers in my juices, “Bet you taste so good.”
“F-fuck, feels so good.” I moan, shuddering as he increases his speed even more. “Gon-gonna cum.”
“Let go, baby.”
His fast movements and the sound of his raspy voice fuel my orgasm, my climax falling upon me quickly. I clench around his fingers, letting myself go and cum all over his hands. He continues finger fucking me, letting me ride out my high. He removes his hands from me and I look back in time to see him sucking all of my juices off of his fingers. The sight alone had me clenching again, eager for more.
“I knew it.” He moans against his fingers, “Taste like I could eat you forever.”
I stand back up on shaky legs, turning to face him and pulling him into a deep kiss, our tongues intertwining and exploring each other’s mouth. His hand comes up to my throat, gently squeezing it, pulling me closer, before pulling us apart altogether.
“We’re not done yet, my sweet girl.” He smirks against my lips, turning me back around and laying me over the couch once again.
He wraps his hand around his dick, stroking it a few times, then runs it through my folds, causing me to shake from the sensitivity. Without a word, he places one hand on my lower back and slowly slides himself in my entrance.
A high pitched moan falls from my lips as he groans, tossing his head back, “Fuck. Been wanting this forever, baby. Feel better than I’ve ever imagined.”
I pull my bottom lip between my teeth, sliding backwards to take all of him in me. He moans loudly, tightly gripping my hips. He holds me in place as he starts thrusting, digging deeper into me with every pump. His strokes get faster and harder, our skin slapping together as I become a moaning mess. My whole body shakes with every movement of his, my face buried into the sofa, muffling my sounds as he fucks me. My legs tremble as he hits exactly where I need him, and I instantly begin clenching around him.
His hand wraps around my hair in a makeshift ponytail and tugs my head back, “I wanna hear your pretty moans, baby. You like the way I fuck you?”
“Mmm, yes. I love it-” I sound out, breathless from the pleasure. “You fuck me s-so good.”
His thrusts quicken and his grip on my hip tightens. The knot in my stomach continues growing, proving my statement to be true. I’ve never been fucked like this, and I can’t help but think about how I’m so glad I sent him that picture.
“Fuck, baby. You feel so good wrapped around my cock, taking me so well. My good girl.” He moans, his hips sputtering.
The pressure in my stomach becomes too much and it’s hard holding it in, my hands gripping the cushions beneath me. He leans forward, his hands intertwining with mine as his lips trail open mouth kisses up and down my back. I can’t help the moans that keep pouring from my mouth, feeling nothing but pure bliss.
“I can feel you clenching around me.” He whispers in my ear, “Cum on my cock, so I can fill you up, pretty girl.”
With that, I let go. My entire body shakes as pornographic moans fall from my lips, my pussy clenching around him so tightly. His strokes become erratic and his moans and groans are louder than before. He quickens his pace as he chases his high, instantly filling me up with a loud raspy moan emitting from his mouth. He continues thrusting into me, pushing his cum deeper. He leans back, standing up straight as we both catch our breaths. His hands find my back once again, softly massaging it. He pulls out, my legs twitching from the stimulation. His hands move down to my ass, gently squeezing it, before he helps me up.
“How are you feeling?” He asks, turning me to face him, keeping his hands around my waist for support.
“Like we should’ve done that a long time ago.” I grin, still breathless.
“We can always make up for lost time.” He grins, placing his forehead on mine.
I nod as we both laugh before he places a few kisses on my cheeks and lips. His hand grabs mine and he pulls me even more into him, capturing my lips in a deep but loving kiss.
“Let’s take a shower, so I can clean you up.” He suggests.
My face heats up and I nod once more, following him upstairs as he never lets my hand go.
Our friendship just changed entirely and I can’t wait for what’s in store for us, because I know it’s going to be euphoric.
a/n : tadaaa!!! ugh i hope this wasn’t shit, it’s been forever :((( lmk what you think! requests are closed bc i have wayyy too many that i need to catch up on, but i’m hoping i can get back into it! love uu <333
485 notes · View notes
selfishdoll · 11 months
Text
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❛ IM SORRY...❜
Oh, tell me what you're willing to do? | Kiss it, kiss it better, baby ⁺ 𓂋 𓈒 ♡ KISS IT BETTER
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ཐིཋྀ ⊹ 𓈒 SUMMARY.
you’re sick of choso being late for dates.. unfortunately he knows the perfect way to make it all better.
ཐིཋྀ ⊹ 𓈒 CONTENT WARNING.
mdni, reader is petty fr <3, oral (fem receiving), overstimulation, groveling choso (lowkey), fingering, multiple orgasms, pet names, praise, etc.
ཐིཋྀ ⊹ 𓈒 NOTE.
on my munch choso agenda & he seems like the type to eat pussy to make it up to you. unedited, please excuse typos & grammar mistakes.
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He was late. Again. For the third time. Your blood boiled within you, ass planted on your couch when it should be in your boyfriend’s car; on the way to your favorite restaurant. But no, Kamo Choso decided to ignore his alarm, and your many texts plus phone calls; to only answer them about thirty minutes after the time you two were supposed to be there.
Despite how remorseful he was on the phone, you were still a bit pissed; something he sensed easily.
With a soft grumble to yourself you rose from the couch, padding over to your bedroom. Your good mood was gone, you wanted nothing more than to lay in bed and watch some tv. Nothing Choso did would fix his mistake this time.
Entering the bedroom you sat at your vanity, beginning to remove your jewerly. First your rings, bracelet, and whilst working on your necklace you heard your front door open; causing your eyes to roll.
“(Y/N)?” Choso called, fiddling with his keys for a moment, shoulders faltering when you didn’t reply. Yeah, he knew he screwed up bad. Taking a breath he kicked his shoes off, waltzing over to your bedroom and peeking in to see you wiping your mascara away with a wipe. “I’m sorry for being late, we can still go.”
You didn’t answer, not even bothering to look at him as you continued to wipe away the minor makeup. Choso leaned against your doorframe, lips pressed into a thin line as he attempted to search for the words to change your mind. You were always so stubborn when you got like this, something he found cute until it was directed at him.
His thoughts trailed away the moment he heard your chair push out, watching you stand and waltz over to your closet; refusing to acknowledge him. You searched through your clothes for a moment before settling on a simple nightgown, moving backwards to your bed and sitting down. You leaned over, attempting to unclasp the anklet you wore, grumbling when it proved difficult given your nails. Finally fed up you sat up, extending your leg to Choso.
“Finally acknowledging me?”
“Just take off my anklet.” You mumbled, glancing away from him. The man gave a soft sound of disbelief mixed with amusement, moving closer and grabbing your leg. He pressed it against his chest, fingers fiddling with the gold plated jewelry of his name for a moment before his fingers trailed across your skin.
“You know I didn’t mean to oversleep.”
“Mhm.”
“And I’m really sorry too.” Choso claimed, watching your cross your arms and slowly nod. The man smiled a bit, leaning down to press a kiss to your ankle, feeling you twitch. That was enough motivation, lowering the kisses until they hit your inner thigh, watching you finally glance at him. “Choso..” You spoke, attempting to pull your leg away, only for his grip to tighten on your ankle. Your breath hitched as his free hand began to push your dress up to your stomach, lowering until he rested on his knees. “Choso.” You called out again, hissing the moment you felt his lips press against your covered slit.
“Lemme make it up to you princess. Show you how sorry I really am.”
Choso’s fingers caught on the band of your panties, pulling them down and off your body, hands grabbing the inside of your thighs to spread you wider. The man wasted no time in driving his thick tongue up your slit, fingers digging into your flesh to assure you didn’t move an inch. Lapping at your sex, shifting between teasing your entrance and tracing your sensitive bud; continuing to grip you with each twitch of your thighs.
Your resolve was melting away, struggling to keep your moans at bay. You wanted to be mad at him, even if it was an honest mistake. You wanted to be petty and ignore him. But, he was just so damn good with his tongue. A messy eater that left you shaking and trembling with each careful swipe of his wicked muscle. You bit your palm, legs closing around his head as your eyes pinched close; widening the moment two fingers entered you, curling against your spongy walls. Your hand flew to his hair, his messy black tresses being pulled in a tight grip.
“Choso—!”
“There it is..” The man murmured, pulling back from your cunt; thumb quickly replacing his tongue on your clit. His digits thrusted and scissored inside you, furiously rubbing circles on the bud— all while his heavy lidded eyes stared up at you. “That’s it.. Not as mad as you were before, huh?”
You whimpered as his fingers went deeper, all the way down to the knuckle as wet squelches erupted from between your legs. You wanted to defend your case, maybe curse him out too— instead you could only moan and shake, losing yourself in the pleasurable apology.
Choso gave a knowing smile, enjoying the way your previously irritated expression melted into nothing but pure ecstasy. He would give a proper apology later but now, this would do.
“Can’t even speak.. that’s okay, she’s talking enough for you.” The man spoke, removing his thumb to go right back to sucking and lapping at your swollen button; unfazed as your thighs continued to close around his head. Your hips rose, grinding into his face as the band in your stomach tightened and tightened.
His name fell from your lips in a dazed mantra, eyes glazed over before you broke; a high pitched cry escaping you as you came— tainting his face in your mess. Your legs shook, greedily sucking up air as you attempted to come down from the high; all while he continued to suck and thrust his fingers inside you.
Soon enough the sensitivity became too much, hand sliding from his hair to push at his forehead— whining as the pleasure teetered on painful. Choso didn’t let up however, quickening his fingers all while sucking your poor bud raw. Tears of overstimulation trailed down your hot cheeks, head twisting back and forth as you tried to somehow run from the pleasure. You only got an inch away before he was releasing your thigh to instead lay his heavy arm across your lower stomach; holding you there.
“Cho—Choso.. please fuck—! I forgive you.. fuck I can’t—“ Whimpers escaped you, the pushes against his forehead becoming weak as your hips rose into his face. Your were making such a mess of yourself, him, and your blankets; something you couldn’t give a damn about at the moment.
Your stomach clenched harder than before, both hands gripping his hair as your back arched; his name exiting your throat incoherently, creaming all over his face and fingers.
You sniffled and breathed heavy, blurry eyes watching Choso slowly pull away from you after lapping all your juices up. He crawled over your tired body, fingers finding your cheeks to turn you, capturing your lips in a nasty, wet kiss. Your hand lazily grasped his arm, blinking heavily, hissing when his thigh brushed between your legs.
“Hurts, Choso..” You spoke softly, pulling back to breathe. The man chuckled at your words, leaning down to kiss your wet cheek.
“I know. I’ll be gentle next time.” A lie. One you both knew.
His strong arms reached under you, pulling you into him as he laid on his side. “I am really sorry for sleeping through my alarm, I know how much you wanted to go.”
You shook your head slowly, smiling at your lover tenderly. “No. You worked the night shift, I have to be a little more understanding.” You spoke, fingers trailing his arm to which Choso smiled back. The two of you shared another sweet kiss, hands brushing across the other’s form.
“How about we order in?”
“Sounds perfect.”
548 notes · View notes
juniefruit · 7 months
Text
☆- biker bf minho -☆
y'all, happy almost friday. winter gloominess is kicking my butt fr. p.s, I like motorcycles, so this is totally not self indulgent...
word count: 946
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Before you met, he was closed off and not really all that personable. His friends pestered him about it, too. He would never go back to living like that, though. Just looking at you brings a smile to his face without him realising it. Has he gone soft? Just for you. One thing he loves you for is that you understand his humor. He’s naturally sarcastic and witty. He can let his guard down around you and truly be himself. He knows when it’s time to joke around, or when to just chill out and take it easy.
Bonus points if you have a bike of your own, he would eat that up. Like, you get to go on little motorcycle adventures together? Sign him up. He loves when you can ride side by side looking cool af. 
Granted, he also loves having you on the back of his bike. He tries to act like having your arms wrapped around his waist doesn't affect him, but of course it does. He’s a sucker for physical touch, perhaps even touch starved before you started dating. When he has to speed up and he can feel your arms tighten… he has got to stay focused on the road. 
He looks absolutely godly in his tight leather riding gear. The jacket hugs his torso and shoulders just right, and the pants… (redacted)
If you have your own gear already, cool. If you don’t, he would love to go shopping with you to find something. It has to be perfect (his own words), because safety is the most important thing. 
So there’s this thing called a Cardo, but there's other brands too. It’s like a bluetooth speaker you can put inside your helmet, it can play music or act as a microphone. He got you one immediately. He couldn’t wait for Christmas, or Valentines, or your birthday. He’s too impatient for that. He enthusiastically ran up to you one day, with the box in his hand. For you!! He exclaimed. He helped you set it up, and afterwards, to test it out, he insisted you try talking through it in separate rooms. He was all smiles and giggles for the rest of the day. 
He’s not big on PDA, but he’s fine with holding hands or wrapping his around your waist in crowded spaces. Also, he definitely puts his hand on your lower back when he has to squeeze by or grab something near you, muttering a small ‘excuse me babe’. 
When you’re riding seperately, he will try to annoy you through the intercom. He’ll spew dad jokes, or honestly just make random noises. Until he figures out you muted him and he gets whiny and upset. You pull up to a stop light when he flips up his visor hastily. “Yah! y/nnie, did you mute me? What if I had something suuuper important to say?” 
Even though you constantly tell him to be careful… He knows his limits. As a biker, it’s in his blood to do at least a couple risky things a week. Whether it was a dare, or just to show off, he will pop a wheelie on the road. A couple times a month, he meets up with his other biker friends just to hang out. At first, you were intimidated. I mean, being surrounded by 8 biker dudes doesn’t sound too inviting. Minho promised they were nice, or at least some of them tried to be. He begged and whined, promising to take your share of cleaning the house for a week. When you finally complied, it really only took about 15 minutes but to Minho it felt excruciating. Minho gave you a soul crushing hug while repeating thank-you’s for a good while. Lucky for you, they were actually quite nice, but they take some getting used to. 
He definitely custom ordered sticker packs of his cats to plaster onto his helmet. He was so ecstatic when they came in the mail, and he spent the rest of the day showing off his newly decorated helmet to you. 
He definitely sends you funny videos or selfies of him in his gear while he’s out. He’s a victim of “helmet confidence”. Meaning, as long as nobody knows who he is, he’s 100% doing funny weird shit. It fuels something in him when he sees you flustered or embarrassed, it’s just a part of his nature. 
Motorcycles do require a bit of regular maintenance (if you want them to run properly) and over the years, Minho has learned how to do repairs on his bike at home. It’s cheaper than always going to the shop. He’s well versed in what his bike needs. He’s always offering up his help for your own bike. On bright spring days, the garage to your condo is pulled up, and the bikes are parked in the driveway. The bright green leaves are practically glowing as they shimmer against the blue sky. Minho’s got on a tank top and shorts; with a few tools by his side. When he calls you over, it’s because he made the executive decision to show you how to fix this one specific thing he’s working on.  You lean in close to him. His teaching voice is soft but firm as he’s always checking to see if you’re still paying attention. You’re more so paying attention to the way his biceps ripple when he moves, or the tiny sweat droplets forming on his brow. 
I would like to think that his motorcycle would be all black with a few mint/teal accents. It’s a sports bike, something along the lines of a Ninja or GSXR.
If you like drabbles like this, check out my masterlist :3
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inkedells · 1 year
Note
dub/non-con joel x f!reader drabble? sorry if this is too much i just need some toxic asf joel rn 😵‍💫
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A/N: HUGEEE CW!! intense non-con featuring joel. he says and does a lot of alarming things here. there's blood and guns and toxicity in general. last warning, DEAD DOVE DO NOT EAT!!!!
mdni!!! fr guys. | requests open but replies not guaranteed.
You moaned.
And you shouldn’t have, because you didn’t want this. Or at least you thought you didn’t; You did scream when Joel removed his gun from the confines of his belt, proceeding to hold the gun to your temple as his other hand yanked your jeans down to your knees and began playing with your pussy. “Better start enjoying yourself darlin’, because I’m takin’ my sweet, sweet time.”
And you did attempt to bite his hand when it found its way to your jaw, prying it open with his fingers and gripping it like a handle. “Go ahead,” he laughed, “Try telling me to stop now.” 
And yes, you stomped on his foot the minute he decided you just made way too much fuckin’ noise and shoved you downwards until your knees buckled, hands twisting in your hair as he pushed your face against his confined dick, using your face the same way a teenage boy would fuck his mattress. “Look a’you. Reduced to my fuck toy.”
His consequent smirk made your blood boil.
But, now, with his gun in your mouth as he fucked you deep and hard and fast, you felt wetness rolling down your inner thigh, and you worried it was your arousal. He’ll know I'm enjoying myself.
You didn’t know it was your blood dripping from your pussy, an effect of his brutal pace and unrelenting desire to feel himself bulge in your belly, until Joel swiped a finger through the blood to show you before bringing it to his own mouth.
“See, baby? I’m a gentleman, I clean up the messes I leave behind.” 
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if you enjoyed please remember to like and especially reblog! it's sososo appreciated!
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biibini · 8 months
Note
Could you possibly write hcs for Mizu properly introducing reader to her adoptive father for the first time??? I'm curious as to how that would play out :3
modern!mizu x reader meets eiji for the first time
tags: modern mizu, mizu & reader in relationship, meeting the parents trope, meeting the parent?, eiji is mizu’s adopted father, kohama is staged around the pacific northwest, heidi shindo &blood-soaked chiaki mentioned, TW: m*k*o, author needs to eat before she writes
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a/n: ok for some reason i cant edit my drafts on my phone bc of gifs :( ima get thru these asks fr,, hope yall like the show references teehee
when u and modern!mizu first got together, u guys figured u would take it slow
it was mizu’s first relationship out of a toxic one
and u didn’t mind the slow pace
going on dates, hanging out, relaxing together
it was a blast
until one day u guys were out downtown, having a lil cafe date
and one of eiji’s clients recognized mizu as u hopped on the back of her motorcycle, zooming off to get lunch
modern!mizu ends up getting an unexpected phone call from her adopted dad
they keep in touch every few days
but she had just called him yesterday
Mizu was lying on her bed, scrolling through her phone. Her homework lies on her desk, ready to be done.
She groans in frustration and gently throws the phone down.
Ok, enough scrolling. Let’s get shit done-
Her phone starts to vibrate. Mizu flips the phone to spot the contact name “Swordfather”. The contact name is paired with a 0.5 selfie of him winning against Mizu. It continued to vibrate on Mizu's bed.
That’s odd. I just called him yesterday.
“Hey dad, whats up?”, Mizu answer.
“Who’s in the back of your bike?”, he yells into the phone.
“How- who- what are you talking-“
“Mr. Shindo come to me earlier today.” He starts, stern and loud, “He say he saw you with girl behind you on bike.”
Mr. Shindo was a regular at Eiji’s Repair Shop ever since Mizu was young. A man with temper and sass, he only trusted Eiji with his services. But with sass came a lot of gossip. Mizu wouldn’t believe the amount of drama happening the neighborhood if it wasn’t for Mr.Shindo’s loud mouth.
“Ok dad, I know it’s a girl but-“
“And he say he saw you hold hands! And drive off?!”, Eiji yelled with concern.
Mizu never really heard him this loud. There was the occasional disagreement and arguments about the Sunday game or who’s cooking for dinner. It was just banter at the most.
When Mizu told him about Mikio and why she left him & all his problems, he stayed calm and silent. Not many words were said when she admitted everything he did during the relationship. But it was comforting to know that her adopted dad was there, quietly listening to her sobs at the dining table.
“I know it’s not a guy but-“
“Guy, girl I do no care. Who is she?”
Mizu was stunned. Yeah, her dad’s English wasn’t the best but his words hit deep. The only time he pulled out the “I don’t care” in her lifetime was a foul customer.
A man by the name of Chiaki was on his knees close to closing hours, begging on his knees for Eiji to fix his motorcycle in hopes to make it faster. After constant days of his begging and pleading during open & closing, Eiji took it into his shop. After countless days of watching her dad attempt to fix the customer’s bike, Chiaki started criticizing and called him an “decrepit old man unable to fix shit”. Mizu wanted to rock his shit but her dad stopped her before she could.
“I may be old, but I do no care. Leave with your piece of shit you call a bike.”, Eiji said as Chiaki sped off, flipping the bird as he sent off.
"Mizu? You there?, Eiji asks. Mizu snaps back to reality.
"Yeah?"
"You tired of guys now, ha?"
Mizu scoffed, laughing at the unexpected response. She hears a hearty chuckle through the phone.
"Yeah yeah.", Mizu sighs in relief, "She's my girlfriend. Her name is Y/N.", Mizu answered, a blush blooming on her face.
"Ah good. Next time you come home, bring her. I'll make my barbeque special.", Eiji says lightheartedly.
Mizu's eyes lit up. It had been a while since she visited home. And to be greeted with the smell of her dad's honey BBQ baby back ribs and juicy prime rib? Yeah, she was sold.
"I will. I'll let you know when I'll visit."
"And Mizu?"
"Yes, Dad?"
"She take good care of you?", he asks in a concerned tone.
MIzu smiles, knowing the slow burn of confusion, hatred, and rage he witnessed over the many years. He was present during her silent middle school self, her angsty & stubborn teenage years, and her confused & rage-filled self during her previous relationship.
She looks at the wall where a photobooth strip of you two hung. It was during one of your exploring the city dates when you two found a vintage photo booth. A little dusty but it did the job of capturing you two together.
"Yes. Yes, she does, dad."
later that week, u get a text msg from mizu asking if u are free for the weekend
thinking it was another weekend date, u clear out ur schedule
and then she texts u its ab coming home w her for the weekend and see her dad
this was kinda out of nowhere
it rlly threw u off
it has been a few months now...
so yk what
maybe it is time u say hi
that friday u get on her motorcycle and ride to her hometown
its only an hr out but seeing the change from a college town to a smaller town felt like another world
You feel the motorcycle slow down as you head towards the exit. The wind calms down as you pass by the welcome sign to Kohama. As you go down the exit, you look out. Down below is a winding path to the seaside town. The town hangs next to a cliff. From your point of view, you could spot the deep blue ocean shimmers as Mizu takes you down the road.
She goes at a slower pace, taking in the familiar sights she left behind: the tall pine trees, a long coastline as far as the eye can see, and boulders scattering the beaches every once in a while. She rolls up to a stop sign and lifts her visor up.
"Smells like home."
You mimic her motions, lifting yours as well. The faint scent of sea salt mixed with the cool breeze from the ocean.
With both of you refreshed, Mizu continued along the path towards the middle of town.
u guys roll into her neighborhood
the houses share a similar bungalow-style
only changing in shades of color
however, something caught ur eye
well
more like ur nose
the smell of sweet barbeque caught ur attention
mizu immediately knew it was her dad cooking it up
meeting modern!mizu’s dad aka swordfather was a lil awkward
when u first arrived, he was busy in the back barbecuing and taking care of the dinner tonight
so u didnt meet him until u fully entered the house
hes busy in the back barbequing
and he does see u but the only thing he knows ab u is that ur dating his daughter
“Dad?”, Mizu calls through the house. You follow her footsteps down the hallway. She then opens the backdoor at the end, the midday shining into the hallway.
The sun blinds you for a second. You see a growing backyard with bushes aligning the fence. Tucked in the corner lied a storage shed surrounded by bikes and a few spare tires. Next to the shed is a grill in use, smoke coming out of the vent.
“I’m here Mizu.” An elderly voice called, his back facing you.
He turns around, a faint pout on his face. His eyes squinting from the harsh midday sun.
“You bring girlfriend?”
Mizu grins at her dad’s comment. She looks back at you and softly grabs your hand, pulling you next to her.
“This is Y/N.”
You smiled, waving at Mizu’s father. You know he’s not a bad guy, just a badass through Mizu’s stories of back home. However, you’re still anxious underneath your pleasing demeanor.
“Hi, it’s nice to meet you.”
You look up to meet his gaze. Old, tired eyes stare back. Stern but not mean or cruel. Amiable. You could only wonder how much wisdom he has behind those eyes.
“Nice to meet you. I am Eiji.”
He waves back, awkwardly smiling as he tends to the grill. The interaction had a striking similarity to when you first met Mizu: cordial, dry, and a little awkward.
Like father, like daughter, you suppose.
after introducing urself, mizu lets eiji cook
(LET HIM COOK ‼️‼️)
when ur making sides together in the kitchen, he gets a glimpse of how u guys act together
and he watches u help mizu make the sides like mac & cheese, baked potatoes, biscuits, and stir fried green beans
typically, he would be helping her cook
but seeing u help her mix the macaroni
and mizu helping u cut the green beans
hes a proud man and feels safe knowing mizu is ok
when mizu pops into the bathroom, he checks in on the cooking
You put on the red and blue mitts and carefully place the mac and cheese into the oven. You feel the fiery heat of the oven against your forearms.
“How is cooking going?”
You close the oven and look behind to find Eiji. You nod in response.
“It’s going good! We’re almost done.”, you say as you move to the side. He gets a view of your work with Mizu: a plate of stir fried garlic string beans with crispy fried onions, a stack of baked potatoes along with bowls of toppings portioned by Mizu, Red Lobster cheddar bay biscuits, and the max and cheese that’s currently baking.
“Thank you for inviting me over and letting me stay.”, you say politely as you put the mittens away.
He nods back, a small smile forming around his lips.
The conversation falls short. A silence fills the air.
For a little too long.
It’s almost uncomfortable to breath, let alone talk, in the kitchen.
“Ribs are almost done. Please help set tables with me.”
You follow his request and help him with the plates and utensils.
“You know,”, You look up from the dinner table, giving Eiji your attention. “I did not know Mizu would bring girlfriend back.”
He chuckled as he looked back at you. You hear the emphasis on “girl” and laughed along. After hearing about Mizu’s previous relationship during the beginning of your relationship, you started to understand her ways.
And now, you understood why Eiji was awkward earlier in the day. When Mizu first met you, it was anxiousness meeting you. For Eiji, it was out of concern from Mizu’s past.
“Yeah, I’m probably not what you expected.”, you tease.
A hearty laugh comes out of Eiji. You feel the heaviness in the room lifts.
“But I’ll be here for her. I plan to, don’t worry.”, you reassure him. As serious as you sound, it was all true.
He hums in agreement. He puts down the final fork and walks over to the stir-fried green beans. His fingers reach for a string bean and tastes your cooking.
“Mm. You are honest.”, he pauses as he takes another bite. “You also make mean green beans.”
You snort, the compliment catching you off guard.
“Mean green beans?”, you question. You take a bean from the plate.
He nods.
Mean green beans…
while u and eiji are having a moment,
modern!mizu is listening to all of this go down
she tries not to smile when she comes back into the kitchen
but on the inside, she’s relieving hes getting along with u
once u and mizu help set the food on the table, its feasting time
ik for a fact that those baby back ribs are dangerously juicy
practically ripping off the bone
and with that honey bbq sauce???
and not to mention the prime rib??????
perfectly cooked
super tender
u can literally taste thyme, rosemary, and garlic with every juicy bite
(i shouldnt be writing this while im hungry)
u all enjoy a delicious dinner
afterwards, modern!mizu would give u a detailed tour of her childhood home
her fencing trophies lined up in the living room
and hallway
and bedroom
eiji didnt always say it but he was proud
if u couldnt tell already
when u guys went out to the backyard, u spot eiji working on a motorcycle in the shed
its not the biggest shed
but a closer look inside painted a pic of who he was
him on a motorcycle w his friends when he was much younger
a framed pic of a lil mizu on her scooter with him on a motorcycle, both vehicles with matching colors
the grand opening of eiji’s car shop
young mizu at the beach nearby
another of teenage mizu holding her keys and next to a blue 2004 toyota camry
u laughed and pointed it out
eiji chuckling along w u and describing the picture as mizu’s first drive after getting her license at age 16
she looks so much younger but u giggle at the scowl
on the other hand, modern!mizu is kinda embarrassed from her high school self
as crazy and insane and stubborn as she was, it was a big moment for her and for eiji
her girl could finally drive
and she got her first taste of freedom
did she cringe as u stared and laughed at how different she looked? yeah
but at least eiji isnt reminicising alone
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sp-by-april · 1 month
Note
Pfff could you imagine “vampire!Kyle x fem!reader where she’s on her period and Kyle can smell it and he keeps clinging to her and she can’t figure out why he’s so clingy until she like goes to take a bath and Kyle is just straight up refusing to let her in the bathroom until he eats her out and it’s like super kinky and horny and freaky as fuck” couldn’t be me, I couldn’t imagine that…🫣unless?
Baby, baby baby... let's fucking go!! I had to end this before I wanted to but I hope to see V!Kyle become a staple around here fr
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Vamp!Kyle x F!Reader
[Submit a prompt!] [Kyle Broflovski Master List]
My boyfriend Kyle was always a little… odd. Always cold, keeping weird hours.. but whatever. I’m a film student so insomnia and anemia were practically my roommates.
He had been acting a little stranger than usual though. We only just moved in together three weeks ago, so I knew there would be an adjustment period… But I never saw it coming.
It all started a few days ago. He wouldn’t leave my side. I was a little under the weather, normal period bullshit. I thought at first that he was just being attentive, you know? He was attached to me at the hip, and I told him not to but he even called off work.
I loved him more than life itself, but I needed a break.
I stood outside the bathroom door as he blocked me from entering. I was already naked, and barely covered by a short, black robe made of silk. I was cold and knew it was jus a matter of time before blood started running down my leg, so I was frustrated as hell with him.
“Kyle, I just want to take a bath. What is going on with you?”
He slid his hand over my cheek and pulled me into him. I’ve always been a sucker for physical affection, but Kyle was always so deliberate in the ways he touched me. I’ve never had a man make me melt like he did.
“I understand. Can I just… ” Kyle’s lips brushed over my neck and he kissed my ear, “Let me do one thing and I’ll let you go,”
“Anything,” I sighed softly.
His hand dipped between my legs and his fingers traced over my slit, “Let me taste you,”
“Kyle,” I pushed his hand away, “I’m still… bleeding,”
“I know,” He brought his fingertips to his mouth, groaning as he lapped the thin layer of blood from them, “I can’t stop thinking about it,”
His hand dropped back down between my legs and went straight for my clit, “I can fucking smell it on you,”
I wasn’t sure if this was a new fetish or what, but I knew that he wasn’t going to let me through until I agreed. Besides, his hands on me were kind of magic. I would have agreed to anything if he kept rubbing me like he was.
“Okay,” I agreed.
The next thing I knew, he had pushed my back against the wall and fell to his knees. He yanked the thin silk strap that was holding my robe together and draped my leg over his shoulder.
I knew he wanted to do this, but the speed and intensity of his movements was a little scary. He was always a passionate guy, but I had never seen him like this.
I forgot all about it once his tongue was on me, though. Kyle was always great with his mouth but now he was a man obsessed. He pushed his whole tongue into me at one point and I gasped. There was so much force behind it and it almost felt… sharp.
Still, he felt amazing. The way he was lapping at my heat, my knee almost buckled. I was grateful he had such a good hold on me. On top of it, he was groaning against my delicate skin and the vibrations felt out of this world. He ran his tongue over my clit, then took me in his mouth and I sucked in a quick, sharp breath. He was usually a lot more careful, but even in his roughness, I knew I’d be coming any moment.
He ran a hand up my stomach and grabbed my breast. His fingers closed around my nipple and pushed me over the edge. My leg started shaking while my back arched as every muscle in my body tensed and seized up more than I ever thought possible. A loud, shuddering moan poured out of me as I came right into Kyle’s eager mouth.
Then I screamed. I felt a sharp pain on either side of my slit.
He fucking bit me.
It was the last thing I remembered before waking up in our bed.
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tamas-love · 4 days
Text
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( 제목 )THINKING ABOUT.. BEST-FRIEND!SUNOO.
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PRESENT.⠀⟡​⠀best friend sunoo thoughts.
( 선우 ) — pairing = fem!reader x best-friend!sunoo ୨୧ warning = none, just cutie sunoo and charms~ ୨୧ no count.
a/n : for my pookie @uoalirie BUT also for anon !! instead of a one-shot i just did points.. remember to reblog, like, and ask for more!!
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click me! ↓
best-friend!sunoo who you first met in the hallway on your way to class, he asked you where the music room was--and since you were on your way there he followed you. best-friend!sunoo who began to sit with you at lunch because you two had the same schedules, sometimes buying you snacks from the vending machine. best-friend!sunoo who always went to the nail salon with you just to sit there and talk the whole time you're getting your nails done, as well as being the one who picks your nail design. best-friend!sunoo who you told all your crushes about and he rated them on a 1-10 scale. best-friend!sunoo who was also your wingman and always tried to get you with your crushes if he thought they were good enough for you. best-friend!sunoo who you had study session with that lasted til late at night and early in the morning, and when you two realized the time you'd quickly get to bed and join in an (platonic) snuggle together, listening to asmr to fall asleep. best-friend!sunoo who you gossiped with on the way to school/class, and when the tea was right behind you sunoo would scream "fuck no!" and run off with you. best-friend!sunoo who took you to the rooftop at lunch after your boyfriend broke up with you because he knew you didn't want to cry in front of people, and always offered you tissues and his hoodie for your comfort. best-friend!sunoo who helped you dye your hair blonde after you got over the breakup, and to not make you feel embarrassed for showing up at school blonde, he'd dye his own to match yours (secretly to surprise you). best-friend!sunoo who sat with you on the coach bus on your way to the field trip destination so you could sit by the window and cuddle his arm comfortably, as well as so you two could eat (big backs) and watch dramas. best-friend!sunoo who (even though he's a boy) kept a few pads in his bag just in case you have an emergency, and when blood leaks through your skirt he always wraps his sweater around your waist to cover it up. best-friend!sunoo who had his wallet on him at ALL times when he was around you, knowing that when an ice cream truck pops up you two are running like biggies. (the only biggie here is ME for that shaved ice i'm running fr) best-friend!sunoo who, for prom, set you up with his homeboy who you liked and scored you a date. after prom, sunoo saw you two in the hall making out and quickly minded his business instead of butting in to get you home.. "yeah.. he'll get her home." he brushed it off, running away (not wanting to deal with ALLAT love.) best-friend!sunoo who you came to, sobbing your tears out after seeing a sad puppy story. in which, he had to comfort you and tell you that it's not real because why the fuck was the dog talking?? (your dumbass believed it) best-friend!sunoo who you went to the mall with, skipping around stores and buying all the matching pajamas. best-friend!sunoo who, one day, invited you over to his house on the day of your birthday and surprised you with a big birthday party after ignoring you and acting annoyed with you the whole day. of course, you were crying in the school bathroom after he ignored you so to make up, he fed you cake and let you open your presents. best-friend!sunoo who you graduated with at the top of your grade, you being the valedictorian and sunoo being salutatorian, and even while you two were going to two seperate colleges, still managed to be the ultimate power duo and meet up every weekend!
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© tamas-love on tumblr, © tamas-love on wattpad ㅤㅤ𓈒ㅤㅤ𓈒 taglist open.⠀⦂ ⠀@nheyri , @uoalirie , @moonpri , @minaz-luv
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just-null · 11 months
Note
i have come here to personally thank you for giving me more than i asked for 🙏🏻 i am utterly grateful like IDJFKDKKFODOD 🧎‍♀️🧎‍♀️🧎‍♀️ it made me so happy the last doodle has my heart he is so cute i will eat him
also there is a DROUGHT out there for us noritoshi fans like im living on CRUMBS its insane and omg dont even talk to me abt how it feels like to be a kashimo and ino lover (altho they are getting a bit more love now) my nori is still underrated :/ sooo hence im asking ur hand in friendship and in exchange i promise to share my hcs with you abt nori my sweet lil meow meow we're in this together 💪🏻💪🏻
also since its October, do you think he likes horror movies? i feel like he can withstand gory movies but its the jumpscares that get him and he wont tell u he's scared when u watch one with jumpscares owkfkdkd imagine him hiding his face against ur shoulder or something 😭😭😭 (i used to do that with my dad when we watched horror movies and i used to be like im not scared😤😤 when he asked if i was lmfao thats where this hc stemmed from)
N. NORITOSHI HIDING IN YOUR SHOULDER OR SUPPRESSING HIS REACTIONS TO THE JUMPSCARES....... WAS IT AN INVOLUNTARY REACTION TO USE YOU TO HIDE??????? WAS IT BUILT UP TRUST????? DID HE GROW USED TO HOLDING ONTO YOU WHEN HE GETS SURPRISED BECAUSE HE WANTS TO MAKE SURE HE HAS HIS VALUABLES SAFE????????? WAS IT A MOMENT WHERE HIS MIND JUST INSTINCTIVELY GRABBED THE FIRST THING HE WANTED TO PROTECT/BE PROTECTED BY???????? OH MY FUCK.
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he's probably used to gore and gritty stuff like that since he sees it often being a jujutsu sorcerer and all. not to mention his technique is literally blood. maybe he's desensitized to gore films, the most you'll get from him is a disgusted scowl.
BUT DID YOU SEE HOW QUICK HIS EYE OPENED WHEN HANAMI SHOWED UP BEHIND HIM. YOURE SO FUCKING FR ABT JUMPSCARES. Noritoshi is that guy who wouldn't scream or yelp but gasp really loudly and jump out of his skin.
i feel like they get him most in horror because of the music building up anticipation. if its one of those fake outs where the jumpscare comes a bit after, he's fucked UP. It makes him instantly miffed, as he tries to regain his composure. He swears he's not usually like this, it got him by surprise is all..!
Noritoshi is the type that'd only watch a horror movie if the story is rich and complex. He's the type of guy to like open endings that make you think.. if it's a guilty pleasure movie where all the protags make stupid decisions, he gets annoyed right off the bat.
He's groaning and complaining about how imbecile the characters are, but would still watch it with you because you personally invited him. If he's lucky you could fall asleep on his shoulder or [insert movie cliche here] how could he pass that up? But Noritoshi wouldn't be able to focus on you if he gets twice as annoyed because its a bad movie + jumpscares. it still startles him, but the movie is so terrible, he's embarrassed it got him, especially in front of you!!!
if you get involved and you tell him to quiet down, Noritoshi would shift his focus towards you. like that awkward guy who thinks he's being smooth and lowkey about how he cuddles up next to you. He wants to be the tough guy who's shoulder you can hide in, and he is!! just not.. with jumpscares.......
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goldfades · 1 year
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✮ 𝐦𝐞𝐝𝐢𝐚 𝐝𝐚𝐲 𝐩𝐢𝐜𝐬, zegras' have more fun
♡ ─ summary | media day pictures (NOT MINE AND IT'S NOT THE FC) and something makes the jack stans go crazy
♡ ─ warnings | light-hearted flirting/arguing, brief mention of hate crimes (ITS A JOKE THOUGH), hughes bros being dumb (not trev for once LMAO)
♡ ─ taglist | tbd
♡ ─ ev's notes | this lowkey eats I MISSED THIS AU
back to navigation back to AU masterlist
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stasszegras ann arbor, michigan
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stasszegras | media day pics, first (official) fnl + WENT LOWKEY VIRAL ON TIKTOK???? tagged: pchandler68, umichfootball, lucafantilli september 23th, 2022
View all 1,008 comments
briesbagels | my favorite tiktok influencer 🤭
↳ stasszegras stop it. 😐
↳ briesbagels 3 million views on a tiktok IS CRAZYYY
↳ stasszegras it's only cus luke was in the video
↳ lhughes_06 clout chaser 😝
briesbagels | LAST PIC OF LUCA IS HORRENDOUS PLS STASS 😫😫
↳ lucafantilli ok this one hurts brie, i thought u were on my side
↳ briesbagels its either u or stass (im choosing my girl)
↳ stasszegras 🤭😏😍
↳ pchandler68 hmmmmm 😏😏
↳ adamfantilli 🥸🥸
↳ stasszegras what's goin on here.... 😥
umichwsoccer | THATS OUR GIRL! 🫡〽️
↳ stasszegras 🤞🏼🤞🏼
jackhughes | wowww okay stassie.. 🤞🏼🤩 woo 😮‍💨😮‍💨
↳ trevorzegras 😟😟 oh no
↳ lhughes_06 since when we callin her stassie????
↳ jackhughes WE?? get ur own nickname lukey 😑����
↳ stasszegras k y'all let's just stick to stass or little zegras 😶
↳ trevorzegras @/griffinzegras
↳ griffinzegras bffr right now 📸📸📸 aren't you like 30 jack??
↳ jackhughes actually i'm 21 so calm the FUCKK down... and i was just being nice and friendly griff come on now
↳ briesbagels and thats why we wear sunscreen kids 🥴
↳ griffinzegras yea maybe a little too friendly..
↳ stasszegras guys im gonna disable my comments if u keep arguing like 12 year olds
↳ trevorzegras mhm yeah and thats the ONLY REASON why you would wanna disable the comments
lucafantilli | last pic should be considered a hate crime bro how'd u even get that
↳ stasszegras don't ask stupid questions like that luca
↳ adamfantilli 🥸🥸
↳ lucafantilli MY OWN BROTHER?!?!?!
↳ lhughes_06 i guess we are all getting betrayed by our flesh and blood rn 😪
↳ jackhughes be so fr rn lukey
↳ trevorzegras agreed luke
↳ jackhughes 😑😑
↳ pchandler68 interesting.. 📸
quinnhughes | you ate little zegras 🫡
↳ stasszegras thanks quinner 🫶🏼
↳ trevorzegras YEA this is really being friendly @/jackhughes
↳ jackhughes bro. let this go.
↳ quinnhughes leave me the fuck outta this guys, please 😁
lhughes_06 | gonna win us a jr world cup zegras ✊🏼
↳ stasszegras YESSS SIR 🫡🫡〽️〽️ but thats not how it works buddy
↳ lhughes_06 there's no jr world cup????
↳ jackhughes messi is rolling in his grave rn
↳ stasszegras messi is alive????
↳ briesbagels no way bro 😭😭
↳ quinnhughes LMAO PLEASE 😭
pchandler68 | LUCA LOL PLEASE HAHHAHAHAHHAHAHAH
↳ lucafantilli count your days chandler
↳ pchandler68 wait no luca im sorry
↳ lucafantilli its ur fault u introduced me and stass and NOW LOOK. all the hoes are gone
↳ stasszegras 😑😑😑
↳ adamfantilli not all of them.....🥯🥯🥯
↳ lucafantilli shut up adam.
↳ pchandler68 wait what??...
adamfantilli future manager AND she plays for our soccer team?? it's perfect 🤞🏼🤞🏼
↳ stasszegras hahaahaha no.
↳ nolan_moyle STASS PLEASE
↳ stasszegras stop harassing me nolan
jhughesnews
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jhughesnews | jack hughes and anastasia zegras are reportedly going out after he comments a suggestive comment on her most recent post. thoughts???
View all 2,190 comments
fan01 | WHAT?? NO WAY????? WHO WAS GOING TO TELL ME
fan02 | guys they are just friends, if u guys look at her other posts he makes those kinda jokes all the time
↳ fan03 nah bro did u see trevor and griffin's comments? they obviously know something we don't
↳ fan02 yeah but that's their humor
fan04 | good 😭😭😭 for😭😭😭 them 😭😭😭
fan05 | didn't she go out with luke too 😐
↳ fan06 damn she wants the whole crew
↳ fan07 who can blame her tho??? have u seen them 🤭🤭
↳ fan08 no she didn't lmao, those were also JUST rumors and it's obvious they're just friends
fan09 | guys stop it, these are baseless rumors and REMEMBER WHAT HAPPENS TO TAYLOR ALL THE TIME, stass is great just by herself 🫶🏼
↳ fan10 all right girl..
↳ fan11 its giving "coach is right guys... 😣"
↳ fan12 im crying BYEEE PLEASE 😭😭😭😭
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-> make sure to check out my navigation or masterlist if you enjoyed! any interaction is greatly appreciated! <-
thank you for reading all the way through, as always ♡
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coconutki · 11 months
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Getou as bf (with a blk s/o)
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Yuppp there’s nsfw at the end ‼️
- [ ] The sweetest honestly
- [ ] Thinks you’re a Angel (ur HIS Angel)
- [ ] Very interested in your hair and haircare routine + skincare
- [ ] He’ll definitely help u on wash day when you feel comfortable enough to have him all in ur hair (I have 4c I’d literally cry myself to sleep but I’d appreciate it)
- [ ] Or he’ll watch u while you do it yourself
- [ ] Loves the hair products you use cause they smell nice like fruits/ tropical stuff / fresh
- [ ] Will catch him playing with your curls and springing them
- [ ] Don’t let him catch you in a 40” inch buss down (or long braids) cause he might pull on it when y’all f-
- [ ] He loves all ur hairstyles tbh
- [ ] Y’all cook togetherrr a lott Ik y’all be throwing downn on holidays
- [ ] Anyone who looks at you weird gets a death stare forreal
- [ ] Gojo will fuck with u just to get a reaction out of geto *gone wrong*
- [ ] If you ever feel ugly..don’t cause he will be there and hype u up in his own way
- [ ] I don’t see him being a PDA person besides maybe holding hands or a quick peck when no one’s around
- [ ] Even if ur a non sorcerer idk he might just accept it cause you fine you sexy you cool *in 21 savage voice*
- [ ] He likes buying things for you then not saying anything. you’ll come home from a busy day and hours later notice something new and be like when did we get this??? And he’ll just smile at you and go about his business lol.
- [ ] He fr lovestruck asf might pretend he’s not at first
- [ ] Definitely would leave his shirt at ur place just so you could wear it and get your scent all over it before he takes it back
- [ ] Between me and you….he be sniffing it when ur not around don’t tell nobody
(Just imagined him sniffing the shirt like tsukiyama sniffing that handkerchief with kaneki’s blood on it 💀)
- [ ] “Need anything angel?”
- [ ] He will be behind you with his hands on your hips or sides while u cook
- [ ] Isn’t particularly clingy (like gojo) but loves your touch and your company
- [ ] I could see him kissing the nape of your neck so he can get your attention when he’s….yk
….
NSFW
….
- [ ] Slanging that MEAT STIC- my bad
- [ ] He will kiss on you a whole lott
- [ ] Might start stripping you at anyplace in the house.
- [ ] “must be hot with those clothes on”
- [ ] He would laugh when he says it but he’s looking at you like a Wendy’s 5 for 5 on a Saturday night.
- [ ] “You’re so gorgeous yk that? Come here.”
- [ ] He’s a bit prideful ngl but not so much that he won’t eat out the love of his life 💕
- [ ] Loves when you rough him up a bit while he’s doin it too
- [ ] He’s giving you immaculate back shots and he will put his fingers in your mouth while he’s doing it
- [ ] Mirror sex asf
- [ ] into hair pulling but ofc he won’t do it hard cause he know better than to make a mf bald 💀
- [ ] “What’s wrong? You were saying you could take it only a little while ago sweetheart~” he would whisper in that velvety voice as you pounds into your hole unrelentingly. His long fingers coated with your saliva while he forced you to watch your helpless expression in the mirror.
- [ ] he’s sure to make sure you can actually take him before he does anything Fr he’s real gentle and loving when y’all take it slowly or the first time y’all did it.
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mikuustuff · 1 month
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☆°.DABI HEADCANONS.°☆
[Song 4 the mood] --- some silly hcs of my bbg to start off my blog<33
_They get more intresting as you continue to read lmao
_Warnings- swearing, blood tears
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☆Doesn't like spicy food, burns his throat and sour stuff is 10x more horrible, he has a raging sweet tooth tho!
☆LOVES peppermint (+flavoured stuff) it soothes his throats internal burns
☆Likes to sleep butt naked, absolutely no tops and his trousers are like a trap for his legs, he's laying in bed with shorts/boxers only
☆VERY picky eater (doesn't eat fruit hates citrus stuff but likes vegetables, Enji prolly ate them alot to keep fit which influenced Touya to follow thru)
☆Doesn't laugh at other ppls jokes, maybe a snort or gruff with a smirk
-defo snickers a lot tho when it comes to insults from him or hearing ppl give someone else a good insult
-BUT especially after his reveal and feeling less constipated of his personal life and identity he HOLLERS
-he's finally being loud and clear and WANTS to be heard
-If he hears smth funny he will bellow a loud ass laugh especially if he's the one making a joke, he's rolling all over the ground giggling and will give ppl dirty looks for not laughing along with him
-Girliest giggles while scrolling thru Enji hate twitter meme posts at like 4am
☆horrible sleep schedule, NEVER knows what time it is
☆Really doesn't give a shit abt anyth (thats not apart of his 'scheme' anyway)
-but sometimes if he's interested enuff he'll become all competitive and try to open up on you getting all cocky
-SUPER salty when he loses he's a silent sulker and will most likely berate u for it (sore ahh loser)
-SOOO SMUG IF HE WINS THO will all of a sudden mention a bet u two never made so now ur in debt to him for smth, its usually rly tame tho like if he's too lazy to get himself a drink he's been craving so now ur his little errand runner
☆100% watched those "real or fake?!" Cake videos with his siblings when they were younger
-Would throw massive hissy fits if shoto gets one right and he doesn't
-shoto is like a baby so bro is probably drooling and pointing at the screen cooing happily that he's copying his big bro touya while his role model is actually fucking seething
☆Because of this shoto prolly tried to copy touya a lot as a baby, saw big bro as a role model and made all the same decisions as him especially since touya is the only other kid with a fire quirk
☆BIG CRYBABY (after revealed identity) he's finally free he's no longer emotionally constipated, happy sad angry doesn't matter there is blood spilling from his scars but its always with a smile cause that's how he always was as a kid too, he doesn't know why he does that himself but it's actually because he can't cry, his body doesn't allow him to express his emotions properly however he can still smile
☆doesn't feel pain anywhere, uses that to his advantage a lot...
☆However he's still a whiny baby, gets stomach aches a lot prolly, his burns always itch and always has a migraine, will let EVERYONE know as an excuse for them to stfu or do shit for him, however if he's feeling especially vulnerable when feeling rly sick he's quiet and fidgety cause as a kid it was probably seen as a weakness that he would want to hide from Enji so he could train
☆Has travel/motion sickness (js like me fr), will vomit after watching a 3D Movie he's that pathetic, roller coasters r a big nono makes him dizzy js looking at them
☆ALWAYS stays up thru every movie, never once falls asleep on the couch even as a kid he gets stupid fomo over anyth (prolly bcs of Enji and shoto training)
☆He stims a lot when he gets excited/overstimulated/annoyed (kinda canon?)  Mostly his feet
☆HE DID NOT PLAN HIS DANCE, he was so into the moment and was so excited and full of emotion he just busted out moves and started dancing from sheer joy to finally be recognised once again (he stimmed lmao)
☆Bcs of his feet stims he defo was a random tiptoe walker as a kid and sometimes randomly does it as an adult
☆HUGE SENSORY ISSUE WITH SOCKS I've never seen bro wear any anyways?? Everyone in the LoV saw his feet when he wore his church shoes in s2 so wearing his big fancy boots is a great way to hide his free grippers
☆Bac to food he prolly rly likes plain food, pass him mac n cheese or any plain/tomato sauce pasta and he's happily chomping away with that big ass mouth, loves potatoes dishes he likes the mushy stuff, because of his big jaw eventho he hates fish he LOVES his chicken and beef and bites at the bone, turns into a rabbid animal sometimes
☆SO shit at shooter games, can't aim and just doesn't have the energy to get competitive over it, low key stresses him out
-however he LOVES anything that was on the Wii that he played as a kid cause he knows what he's doing, him fuyumi and natsuo all have a 3DS and got the same games to play with each other
-few years later he's now an adult with a distaste for ps5 and pcs but tenko gives him a random hacked 3DS extra he had cause dabi was complaining abt being bored when they had to lay low after some risky missions
-and he. went. feral.
-A shooter game on the 3DS? He knows what he's doing
-Defo showed off the cool trick to play as luigi in Mario bros but liked mario more cause ONCE enji said mario was 'cool'
-Always mained bowser (cause...yk Enji parallels) in Mario kart from childhood tho as an adult hes a dry bones guy, he's a nintendo>Sega baby does not know sonic nor gives a fuck
-knows quite a bit abt pokemon because fuyu had a hyperfixation on it and relaxes in animal crossing new leaf since that was natsus fav game cause he was the youngest and sucked at the harder ones, touya played a lot with them both
-but his favourite..is cooking mama 1-3 HES SO GOOD AT IT?? Just enuff chill and competitiveness, however gets weird ass whiplashes if he misses up (rarley) when mama has those fire eyes when shes angry...sounds familiar to a certain someone...
-also has a special memory of Rei trying the game and touya makes fun of his mama cause she sucked and ends up teaching her how to play and she actually gets rly good..as a kid it made him happy and proud...
-absolutely destroyed his dad in any wii sports games tho, 4 sure bowling/that samurai sword thingy is his goat (ifykyk)
-Sure he hates all the other consoles but he thinks the switch is alright, defo thought of natsu when acnh came out and the other pokemon games for fuyu
-SUPER salty no cooking mama games were made tho
☆whole heartedly believe he'd be a mamas boy if they found touya at 16 or if the incident at 13 didn't happen, would have time to mature (and yk don't miss like 3 super important years of actual development then living alone after said missed development) he would learn to see that appeasing enji was something he'd learn to resent and hate
☆Likes spiders, let's them crawl om him before flicking them off with a bored expression but if he finds out someone's scared of them he will start spooking them with the spider or ridicule them abt thier irrational fear to smth so small and inferior
-He was scared of them as a kid but during his ig...runaway Arc? (That we have no canon actual mentions of? Ig apart from the anime laptop scenes?) He found them around the places he'd sleep in for shelter so he kinda grew accustomed to them, so now knowing he overcame a fear so small he kinda likes to flaunt around his conquered fear and make fun of those still scared of them cause he's childish and thinks he's sooo great for getting over smth childish
☆surprisingly cares abt his nails? Doesn't like getting grime in them and screams internally when he sees toga a chronic nail biter chomp away at her nails mindlessly, he hates it it just irks him
☆Ik I said he'd be a picky eater, but I think in his runaway arc and first joining the LoV he became used to eating ANYTHING, raw, burnt, out of date he didn't care anymore food is food, give dude a freshly pink torn chicken wing and he'd silently eat it while watching some endeavour clip
-His obsession was so bad sometimes when he was this age that he'd forget to eat or sleep some days, hence getting him into his habit of eating anything and forcing himself out of his picky eater era
-Fortunately after joining the LoV and the whole liberation fight he went back to being his picky eater princess brat appetite back
☆Reported any endeavour praised videos, would try to dox endeavour fans and harass them, would block anyone that would disagree with him, had MULTIPLE accs cause he's js that extra, 100% used like 1 or 2 acts to back up another acc that got into a fight to look like ppl were on his side cause he's js that much of a petty baby, would be mean to literally any media (cause like let's be fr he watched other shit on that YouTube laptop) and would silently have a guilty pleasure watching creepypasta vids and speedpaints, knows all thier lore and was a victim to the slenderman family trope thing, prolly idolised the edgy teens that turn into psychomurderers ig as he starts to peice his new identity and yk...actually murdering ppl...but who cares??? mention eyeless Jack and his eyes will secretly sparkle in 90s anime style fashion, let bro rant abt it...
☆Speaking of which, if he were to ever doodle he'd so have some sort of low effort chibi 90s anime/scene emo kid art style, dude defo has an emo D carved/flamed on random abandoned buildings, was also a kid obsessed with that one S doodle
☆He's a pretty light sleeper, he never got much sleep as a kid and would prolly try to imitate enjis rly bad hero sleep schedule, after the hospital arc he defo is a sleepy guy but again can't sleep since he's on the streets, however after joining LoV he gets a little better at sleeping, before he was a silent guy but now he's js like his 13 Yr old self snoring LOUDLY but will 100% deny it, still a light sleeper but a little less worse than what it was
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MY HC W ME/READER IG HEH😈(self indulgent cause I can)
☆He doesn't care much for music, will remember those old nightcore songs and doesn't mind heavy metal and rock but it kinda gives him a headache so he doesn't rly go out of his way to listen to anyth, u will NOT catch bro jamming to some random pop song, maybe after his reveal ull get a sentence or two from a popular old song from like avril lavene and a foot step to a rhythm but again not much care, however dude wouldn't mind listening to my background animal crossing playlist, he'd defo love the rain sf versions and would prolly help him sleep, the rain is a super big comfort to him it's like his white noise, his favourite is 1AM in acnl cause...idk it js is dont fight me on it
☆WORSE night terrors, is a victim of sleep paralysis, sleeping on the streets defo did a huge number on this dude, if we're talking abt being a potential partner he'd calm down and gently pull u towards him to hold it'll help him feel grounded, makes him feel safe knowing someone is sleeping next to him in general like he slept next to natsuo, when he was a kid natsuo would be too tired and a heavy sleeper to rly know abt touya waking up in sweats which didn't help when he was younger(natsuo is not like his big bro he is a DEEP sleeper) so if ur there with him hugging him whispering a word or two of reassurance(don't start blabbering he'll get annoyed he's prone to headaches especially when ur trying to be some saint) so he'll find comfort in u, best believe he's getting a good rest
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Hope u enjoyed!!<33 I love yapping --- DO NOT STEAL/REPOST
[Wait the self-indulgent hcs were low key fun might make more lol]
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