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sungstars · 2 months ago

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slut me out | njm x fem!reader

i.e you needed to give your situationship the time of his life after seeing his instagram story.

word count: 2.8k (not proof read)

content warning: situationship, open ending, smut lol, oral (m. rec.), fingering (f. rec.), explicit sex, unprotected sex(no!), creampie, lmk if i missed anything thanks!

author's note: two fics in one day! can we believe this LOL. would you guys be surprised if i said that i have a mark one that i'm hoping to finish and it'll be queued up for tomorrow morning/afternoon. i hope you all enjoy this fic and as always, dedicated to my crazy and delusional bffs. likes & reblogs are appreciated as always. requests are open till october 5th! i'm still working on my jay fic, and hoping to have that out by tuesday!!

“you’re fucking crazy,” you said once the phone picked up after the first ring, “you can delete that story, i saw it.”

jaemin let out a hearty laugh, “hmm? but jisungie looks so cute, what if one of my followers wants me to put them on with him?”

you jeer, fingering hovering over the red button on the screen, “you definitely could’ve posted him without making sure your shirt is unbuttoned and they can see the chain that i bought you peeking through. what if they’re crazy like me?”

“don’t worry, nobody has you beat in that department.” jaemin added quickly, “you can come over if you want.”

did you want to? absolutely. you needed to rock his world so hard that it was likely to be rated a category 9.5 earthquake.

“you can come to me,” you quipped back, “and hurry up, i dont have a lot of patience. don’t change either.”

“you’re so demanding,” jaemin whined, a glint of playfulness evident in his voice, “i have to stop at my other hoe’s house first, but i’ll be there.”

“not even funny.” you hung up the phone, rolling your eyes.

focusing back on your room, you jumped up in a panic. you needed to change and also pick up the clothes you had thrown all over the place.

realistically, you didn’t know if jaemin was kidding about seeing somebody else first, but if he wasn’t, you had about twenty minutes including traffic before he got to your place.

you shoved all the loose piece of clothing into whatever drawer or laundry basket they would fit into. doing a once over your room, you were satisfied with what you were able to do.

looking at your floor length mirror, you didn’t care too much about what you had on. a big t-shirt with snoopy playing baseball on the front.

easy access for jaemin, but you should probably change your dingy halloween panties from victoria secret into something cute.

perhaps pink? that seemed on brand for tonight’s theme.

you were digging through your underwear drawer looking for that lacey pink thong you got from the mall a few weeks ago when you heard a knock on your door.

“fuck,” you said, slamming the drawer shut to no avail and rubbing your hands down your hair to smooth out any frizz, “fuck.”

the knocking got louder, causing you to practically trip on air as you ran to grab the door.

“took your sweet time letting me in,” jaemin pouted. leaning against the doorframe when you opened it, “that mad at me?”

rolling your eyes, you pulled him in by his silky pajama shirt and closing the door behind him, “guess she wasn’t that good if you got here within the same hour of calling.”

jaemin smiled, dropping down onto your couch and sliding his shoes off, “i’d say she was pretty damn good if i got done quickly and i’m not here.”

you crossed your arms, scoffing at his comment and began to walk to your bedroom.

“you’re such a dick.”

“i heard that,” he said, jumping off the couch to chase behind you, “i'm just kidding y/n, you know it's just you."

"are you sure? cause you keep making comments about other girls, are you trynna compensate? i don't care if you see other people."

jaemin laughed at you for the nth time this evening, making you want to just slam your bedroom door in his face and lock him out, but unfortunately for you, seeing jaemin in those pink pajamas and gold chain sent you into borderline ovulation.

you grabbed jaemin by the arm, leading him to sit on your bed and standing between his legs.

"it's just you," jaemin reassured, a hand coming up to rub your hip gently, "just like driving you crazy 'cause i know you're really fucking insane."

jaemin got a whiff of your secret cloud perfume as you leaned down and kissed his neck gently.

"i'm going to turn you every way but loose tonight," you whispered into his ear, teeth grazing the shell of his ear, "and i'm gonna show you how insane i am over you."

a shiver went down jaemin's back as you kissed down his neck and to his adam's apple, making sure to suck dark marks into his skin before placing your lips on his.

his arms wrapped your waist, pulling you down into his lap as he deepened the kiss. your hands found their way entangled into his brunette locks, moaning as he slipped his tongue into your mouth.

the two of you fought for dominance over the kiss, though jaemin just wanted to put up a good fight before letting you win.

you then slipped your tongue into his mouth, removing your hands from his hair and moving them down to his shoulders.

you gently pushed him back and onto the mattress, letting your fingers skillfully undo his pajama shirt, enjoying the smooth silk under your fingertips before pulling the shirt open.

jaemin pressed his hips up, hoping to get a small bit of friction on his growing erection and moaning when you rut your own hips down.

pulling away from the kiss, your chest heaved as you did a lookover his body. his plush lips swollen and glossy with spit, dark splots decorating his skin from earlier, his own defined chest moving rapidly as he tried to catch his own breath.

"you look so pretty under me, jaem," you complimented, your fingers dancing across his exposed collarbones and down his gold chain, "a sight only i should be allowed to see."

jaemin exhaled heavily through his nose, "a sight only for you. . please, don't stop. i want you. . i need you so badly, y/n."

how could you deny such a request from a pretty boy completely at your disposal? you weren't a cruel or dumb woman, so of course you'll comply.

you leaned down to attach your lips to his collarbone, biting and sucking gently as you made your way down his chest.

moving the pink fabric away, you let your tongue teasingly flick at his nipple to elicit a whiny moan from his mouth before taking his nipple between your lips.

"fuck y/n," he groaned, "that feels so good."

smirking to yourself, you pull off and stand up. the boy's eyes widened, trying to hold back another whine because why did you pull off? and why are you standing?

"c'mon," jaemin said, voice cracking slightly, "don't be a tease."

"a tease?" you titled your head as he sat up on his elbows, "if you beg, i'll consider."

a bright red hue cascaded over jaemin's face at your request, but he couldn't get any more pathetic than he already looked.

"y/n," he pleaded, "please do something. i am so undeniably hard, and if i don't feel those pretty lips or pretty hands wrapped around my dick that i know you love, i will implode and you'll be out of a bomb dick appointment and home."

a laugh escaped, jaemin really knew what to say to make you give into him. it's why you liked him honestly. he was funny and charming, and did in fact have a great dick that drove you insane. you used to be normal before he stuck his dick in you.

jaemin reached forward, grabbing your hand and placing it over his boner. that action alone could've made you cum in your panties because pathetic jaemin was probably your favorite jaemin.

you instinctively wrapped your fingers around it the best you could while it was restrained in those silky pants, slowly jerking him off and watching a bead of precum stain the fabric.

"see how hard i am?" he asked, breathily, "all for you. all because of you."

stroking your ego was one of the many things jaemin was good at, so you decided to play nicely and give him something to relief this tension you could feel growing in his body.

"take 'em off," you said, releasing his cock from your grip, moving back to give him room, "show me that pretty dick, jaem."

if you weren't standing in front of him, you were sure he would've fell face forward onto your carpet from how fast he was trying to get his pants down and off his hips.

once they were at his thighs, you leaned forward and placed a chaste kiss on his lips before sinking down to your knees.

you were face to face with jaemin's cock, the tip an angry shade of red and precum still leaking from his slit.

spit began to pool inside your mouth the longer you looked at it, and you stuck your tongue out to swipe the precum dribbling from his cock.

jaemin moaned out, hands gripping the sheets beneath him, “stop. . put it in your mouth.”

you furrowed your eyebrows and looked up, “don’t make demands.”

the brunette’s jaw ticked, one hand coming up to your hair and the other grabbing the base of his dick.

he pushed your head back roughly, tapping the head of his cock on your lips and smearing more precum across, “don’t be a fucking tease.”

your eyes widened in surprise at the switch in jaemin's demeanor, but instead of giving him a hard time, you complied by opening your mouth for him.

without hesitation, jaemin shoved his cock into your mouth until it hit the back of your throat which caused you to gag and tears well up in your eyes.

"don't get sensitive now," he mumbled, swiping the tears from your face, "now be good and suck. show me why you're my favorite."

his favorite? you should been his fuckin' only like he said you were earlier. what is up with the inconsistency? he's gonna piss you off.

you used your tongue to lick the under part of his cock, pulling off to leave just the tip in your mouth.

jaemin's grip on your hair tightened, trying his best to let you have control, but wanting nothing more than to just fuck your throat until you're sobbing.

you pulled completely off his cock, bringing your hand to jerk him off while you used your tongue to lick a stripe on his balls and gently suck.

the brunette's eyes rolled back, a string of moans and high pitched whines leaving his throat as you continued to toy with his balls.

whenever your hand reached the tip, you would squeeze every so slightly, causing him to fuck into your hand.

jaemin was close, and you could tell by the way he was whimpering and trying to chase your hand.

you looked up at him, smiling to yourself before pulling off his dick completely, basking in his borderline sob at the loss of contact.

"why did you stop?" tears welled up in his eyes, feeling like he would explode, "you're so fuckin' mean."

cooing, you wiped tears away from his eyes like he did earlier, "cause i knew you were close, jaem."

he sniffled, grabbing you and pinning you down onto the bed in one swift motion.

sometimes, you forget how strong he can be, causing you to get even more wet if that was possible. your panties were sticking almost uncomfortably to your cunt, and you were hoping he would do something to relief that soon.

too lost in your own thoughts of pleasure, you didn't even realize jaemin was pulling your t-shirt up until the cool air hit your nipples.

he used his lithe digits to roll your perked nipples around, causing you to squeal at the contact.

"love the panties," jaemin teased, using one of his hands to snap the waistband against your skin, "so cute and so soaked. god, you really get off from anything as long as it's me, huh?"

"you fuckin' wish," you tried to bite, but it came out as a whimper when he pressed his hand against your core, allowing for some friction of pleasure.

"shhh," he said, "can't even muster an ounce of niceness when i'm about to fuck you?"

jaemin flicked your nipples, smirking at your almost pained moan before moving down to take your underwear off, eyes watching how they were sticking to your sopping cunt, "so wet for me, hm?"

you nodded your head in compliance this time, "all for you."

he swiped a finger up your slit, bringing it to his mouth and licking it clean, "taste so sweet, but act so so mean towards nana, wonder why that is?"

you huffed, hooking a heel behind his thigh and pulling him close so his cock would make some contact with your cunt, a noise escaping your throat when the tip came into rough contact with your clit.

"that needy? what was it you said earlier? beg. beg for it, dumb whore."

degrading was something you and jaemin never tried, but with how effortlessly it slipped out of his mouth, you wish he would've done it sooner.

"jaem," you grinded against his cock, "please fuck me, y'know you want to. please, i need it so badly."

jaemin just looked at you unimpressed, dragging his cock up and down your cunt, looking at how you falter when his tip catches your sensitive bundle of nerves, "beg more."

you wanted to burst into tears, he knows how much you want him, he can feel how wet you are and probably at more slickness slipping out as he teased you, "nana, please put it in. i'll stop being mean, promise. i need your cock--i need you. please fuck me."

his left hand came up to smooth your hair out, smiling all his pearls at you as he slowly pushed the fat tip of his cock into you, finally.

jaemin slowly pushed himself into your cunt, moaning at how easily you took his cock, letting his hand fall from your hair and place pressure on your clit.

"it's like you were made for me, fuck" he gritted his teeth, thrusting shallowly into you, "taking me so well every time, your cunt just fuckin' sucks me in.. ha."

all you could do was moan in response, eyes rolling back when jaemin's gold chain smacked you in the nose, "fuck, too good."

jaemin rubbed your clit roughly as he picked his pace up, hips snapping against yours as your arousal ran down your thighs and his balls, creating a wet sound between the two of you.

you clenched around jaemin's cock, letting out high pitched noises of pleasure as he fucked you harshly, the knot in your stomach tightening and traveling down your pelvis.

"fuck, fuck, fuck, fuck" you cried, placing your hand on his lower abdomen and trying to push him away, but he quickly snatched it and held it above your head, "jaem, fuck, please, it's too much."

jaemin ignored your pleas, "y'know you can take it, stop trying to run from it."

when jaemin snapped his hips harshly once more, you felt that knot in your stomach break and ecstasy overtake your senses.

you couldn't even muster the feeling of embarassment from how good you felt when liquid practically sprayed your thighs and jaemin's abdomen.

the boy tapped the head of his cock on your clit, groaning loudly as you continued to squirt before roughly showing himself back into you.

"jaemin," you squealed, back arching up, "i can't! i can't."

"you can," he said, fucking you harshly, feeling himself getting closer and closer, "and you will take this dick. you wanna whine about other people havin' it so bad, take it, slut."

with jaemin fucking you so soon after an intense orgasm, all you could do was sob and mumble his name. it wasn't going to take you long to cum again, and jaemin could tell about how you were clenching on his dick.

your fingers dug into his shoulders, creating red crescents as his chain smacked you over and over again, his orgasm approaching any second.

"i'm so close, angel." he whined, his thrusts starting to stutter and slow down, "fuck, can i come inside please?"

"o-of course," you nodded your head, your own orgasm approaching once more, "please cum in me."

one more snap of jaemin's hips and he let out a loud moan, stilling himself as white hot ropes of his cum began to fill you and create a creamy ring around his cock, "fuck, you were too good."

he began to thrust slowly to ride out your orgasms, kissing your forehead and whispering sweet praises into your ear.

once you pushed his chest away to let him know he was overstimulating you, he pulled out completely and laid next to you, chest heaving rapidly.

"y/n." he turned on his side, "i really do like you."

you smiled, grabbing his hand and intertwining your fingers, "i really like you too jaemin."

he pressed a gentle kiss to your cheek and pulled you closer to him, "it's always been just you."

end!

#nct dream imagines #nct dream smut #nct dream hard hours #nct dream hard thoughts #na jaemin imagines #na jaemin smut #na jaemin hard hours #na jaemin x reader #jaemin smut #jaemin hard hours #jaemin hard thoughts #jaemin imagines

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seung-mong · 2 months ago

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seung-mong's kinktober 2024!

gulp~ they're right behind me arent they? well... more like on top!

☆BANGCHAN☆

whats your favorite scary movie? - after a mysterious call in the middle of the night threatens to ruin horror movie night with your friends, you cant help shake the feeling that someone's watching your every move. at this point you dont know what's worse: a creepy stalker managing to sneak his way into the house, or how awkward and fidgety chan's been all evening!

includes: ghostface!bangchan x fem!reader, stalking, choking, slight knife play, blood kink, +more!

☆LEEKNOW☆

and so the lion fell in love with the lamb - after moving to romania against your parents' wishes to live a peaceful life with your dying grandfather, your dreams are plagued with visions of pale, almost shimmering skin, droplets of crimson red blood with the taste of the sweetest wine, and sharp fangs that make you sweat in your sleep. your grandfather can only urge you to pray, despite the growing dread in the pit of his stomach at the sight of the bruises that linger on your skin. not to mention the puncture wounds right by the side of your neck!

includes: vampire!leeknow x inexperienced fem!reader, stalking, religious themes, marking, +more!

☆CHANGBIN☆

not all monsters do monstrous things - changbin's been acting different lately, and you're hesitant to talk to him about it. after the accident that left him bloodied and bruised, the last thing you want to do is bring up how he's become so distant lately, passing up on opportunities to hang out, refusing your physical affection, ditching you for the new group of friends that seemed to appear out of thin air. but when he stands you up on your birthday dinner on Halloween, you know he's crossed the line!

includes: werewolf!changbin x fem!reader, childhood best friends trope, depictions of gore and violence, size kink, manhandling, strength kink, + more!

☆HYUNJIN☆

its amazing, the love inside, you take it with you - finally, a space of your own! a safe space for you to practice your spells without accidentally setting your mom's heirlooms on fire. a safe space for you to brew your potions without your mom complaining about the smell and how you're doing it wrong (you've figured). a safe space for you to chat with your cat companion, milo, without your mother rolling her eyes. a safe space... with an awkward, clumsy, GOSSIP of a soul with unfinished business!

includes: ghost!hyunjin x witch fem!reader, voyeurism, pervy hyunjin, subby hyunjin, femdom raahhh, overstimulation, dacryphila, +more!

☆HAN☆

you could be happy here, i could take care of you. i wouldn't let anybody hurt you. we could grow up together! - han thinks hes seeing things. he usually enjoys camping by himself, but when a bright light and a high pitched noise makes his head throb and his nose bleed, he genuinely thinks he could die. now he REALLY thinks hes seeing things because.. is that someone falling from the sky? after deciding to sleep on it, he meets you. and uh, oh yea. he's definitely seeing things!

includes: loser nerd!han x alien fem!reader, subby hanji, han jisung is a SIMP LOSER, bondage, use of some kind of aphrodisiac, choking, +more!

☆FELIX☆

absence makes the heart grow fonder…or forgetful - never being one to believe in fairytales, you were the only one in your village brave enough to explore the thick woods across the train tracks just south of your home. finally, a place where you can think in silence, with no one to disrupt your writing. when the creatures of the forest begin to make themselves known to you, you ignore all the signs telling you to run. especially when the so-called evil trickster fairy is the most beautiful boy you've seen in your life!

includes: faery!felix x fem!reader, kinda inexperienced felix, lowkey corruption kink (litrally if u squint), felix has wings (that r sensitive), overstim, +more!

☆SEUNGMIN☆

this is true love- do you think this happens everyday? - seungmin is too young for this, he thinks. the youngest prince to take the crown in centuries, and the war between his kingdom and the kingdom of the forest is intensifying. his people are going missing, and he has no idea what to do. it does not help that the king of the forest scares him shitless. he turns to you for help, the last witch of your line- you can thank his family for that!

includes: prince!seungmin x witch fem!reader, kinda enemies to lovers (the trope belongs to him i fear), hatefucking, biting, bondage, +more!

☆JEONGIN☆

we all go a little mad sometimes. haven't you? - you really should have filled up your gas tank. your car breaks down in the middle of nowhere, and the storm outside only further dampens your spirits. its dark and empty for miles, besides the little light that flickers on the side of the road. you brave the journey on foot, shivering, and soaking wet. your heart drops when you see the shelter, old and run down. thank god the young gentleman inside is kind enough to offer you a bed for the night!

includes: serial killer!jeongin x fem!reader, primal play, fear play, choking, knife play, jeongin is really rouch, +more!

☆INTERLUDES☆

got a horror concept for a fic? dont be shy and request! (submissions open until september 20)

wanna get tagged? (specify the kinktober special!)

#skz #skz smut #skz fanfic #stray kids #stray kids x reader #bangchan x reader #leeknow x reader #changbin x reader #hyunjin x reader #han jisung x reader #felix x reader #seungmin x reader #jeongin x reader #skz kinktober #kinktober #seung mong!#seung mong kinktober!

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ybklix · 1 month ago

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INTERVIEW WITH THE VAMPIRE

๋࣭ ⭑🕸 pairing: vampire!chrisbahng x inexperiencedfem!reader ˚˖𓍢ִ໋ 🦇˚⋆ 𝒔𝒚𝒏𝒐𝒑𝒔𝒊𝒔: As part of a college assignment, you interview a peculiar doctor about his success and long career, but then he starts telling you about the odd and unbelievable lifestyle he used to lead that got him there, claiming to be something you find funny at first, but then you get caught up in the details, causing tension and questioning reality.

˖⋆࿐໋ 𝒈𝒆𝒏𝒓𝒆 — 𝒘𝒂𝒓𝒏𝒊𝒏𝒈𝒔: MDNI 18+, smut, corruption kink, breeding, choking, biting/marking, slight dubcon and sadism, pet names, blood play, fingering, cunnilingus, multiple orgasms, unprotected sex, creampie. ✩₊˚.⋆🕸️⋆⁺₊✧ word count: 10.2k

𝔴𝔢𝔫𝔱𝔬𝔟𝔢𝔯 (𝗸𝗶𝗻𝗸𝘁𝗼𝗯��𝗿 '𝟮𝟰) ₊˚🕯️♱‧₊˚. 01: vampire

notes: inspired by the 1994 movie of the same name! ✩ it's implied to be set in aus but ik the fall there it's different, but anyway, it's just to fit the theme

It was a cold night, the cool wind blew your hair gracefully and you enjoyed the exquisite scent of the autumn leaves that reached your senses and rustled with every step you took. It was the weekend before Halloween and the whole campus was full of young people walking around in their costumes, you felt a little out of place, as they all smiled and walked shamelessly in their most extravagant clothes, hairstyles and make-up to some party, unlike them, you were wearing your very nice autumn outfit, dark red sweater with V cleavage and a black scarf, mesh tights, brown plaid skirt and knee high dark brown heeled boots and a coat, and you were not going to a party, but to an interview with the handsome and well respected Dr. Christopher Bahng.

Bahng was about to be praised for his long career at the university hospital, for his contribution to society with his own clinic and helping students, mostly medical students, who were fascinated by Bahng’s merits and blinded by their fanaticism and admiration, being carried away by rumors that the guy himself was a medical legend, they suddenly became curious about his life and career, to which they suggested an interview about his professional life as a doctor and specialist. And, mysteriously among the uncertainty there you came in, you were not a medical student, you were in your third year of your nursing degree and saw Dr. Bahng on very few occasions while rotating through your shifts at the hospital, so the offer still remains a mystery to you, why you?

You had absolutely no idea what your colleagues at your faculty newspaper were talking about one afternoon when you walked into the room and there was a loud commotion and uproar, that Bahng had agreed to an interview, but asked that it be specifically done by you. It was an afternoon, when you were about to write and share information obtained from a small unimportant paper you would do, but one of your friends, Yang Jeongin took the courage to approach you and be the first to give you the news.

“Dr. Bahng chose you to do an interview with him for the commemoration of his long professional career at the hospital. You have to be the best, you practically have half the medical school all over you, well at least the annoying students working on his paper who came confused to break the news.”

Bahng was a legend and a mystery. He was handsome and charismatic but you couldn’t find a single social media or photo of him on the internet beyond his LinkedIn. There were pictures of him hanging out with more doctors posted by the faculty, pictures of him looking uncomfortable and always all the way in the background or on the sidelines as if he was out of commitment, pictures of him receiving accolades with a fake smile and medical school articles mentioning him, but nothing else about him. You knew that because you researched him a bit before talking to him as you were terrified to go with a blank mind, from just knowing he was an obstetrics doctor, at first you dug into his professional life which you could find information about, but curiosity got the better of you a bit and you wanted to dig into a more human side of him, wanting to see a picture of him with a friend on the beach, or posting something a thirty-something man would do, a social media or something, but there seemed to be no sign of him.

You rang the doorbell, swaying in place slightly nervously and waiting to be answered, the house was impressive and in a quiet neighborhood away from the busy city center, away from your university and the hospital, Dr. Bahng’s house. Although you had to admit, something about it gave you the creeps, large and well maintained houses that seemed to be inhabited by ghosts, long trees and the blowing of the wind gave you strange sensations.

Dr. Christopher Bahng greeted you with a smile, dressed in casual black clothes, black t-shirt, black jeans, a long chain with a cross and silver bracelets on his wrists.

“Y/n” he said to you, stepping aside to make way for you, “You’re a little early. Come in, please.”

You blushed as you hoped the time wouldn’t be an inconvenience but honestly, it was for you, he was only willing to give the interview at 8pm and although you planned the series of questions and estimated time, it was uncertain exactly what time it might be concluded.

The date and time were problems for you; your friends were upset you missed countless costume parties just to be there. But there you were, the restlessness and curiosity about why he chose you was greater than a lousy college party. You were about to turn down the offer since it meant that you would have to walk back to the university alone and a little late at night, but the medical students begged you to accept it and Jeongin offered to pick you up at night if it was getting late and you felt unsafe to walk back home alone and ask for a ride from an app. You wanted to think that the reason for your appointment time was because he was off work, but that would be a lie, as everyone knew that Christopher Bahng always worked at night.

You walked by his house somewhat blushing, you were there because of something from the university, but it was inevitable not to think about how handsome the mature doctor was.

“Welcome” he spoke again.

“Thank you, nice to meet you, Dr. Bahng.”

“Nice to meet you too” he stared intensely at you, “You can leave your coat here at the entrance if you like. And take off your shoes, sweetheart, nice boots by the way.”

So he knew your name and face. You took off your coat apologetically and hung it on the coat rack but as soon as you did, you felt a chill in the air hitting your body, making you shiver. His house was cold and poorly lit, the lights were warm and dim. To your left were wide stairs and in front of you a wide hallway that led to more rooms. In the distance, you could hear a classical music melody softly.

“Sorry if it’s a little cold” he said, pulling you out of your thoughts, you settled your bag on your shoulder and smiled at him while gesturing with your hands that there was nothing to worry about, “I’ll show you around” he added encouragingly, almost as if he had read your mind that you were thinking about the decoration of his home, “This is the entrance” Chris walked and you followed in step behind him, “Here is a bathroom, feel free to use it whenever you want. Over there is the kitchen, the main dining room and... the main living room where we’ll do the interview so we can be more comfortable.”

You listened to him carefully as he pointed out. His house was huge but it felt lonely and like it lacked some... life. The decor was exquisitely tasteful, modern but without leaving small classic details and made the illusion of antique elements.

He was a sweet and kind man, you were ready to pay attention to any detail for the writing of the article, at the same time you let yourself be distracted by the attractiveness of his countenance and presence, even so there was something in the atmosphere that made you a little uneasy, you could not calm down at all and you were not nervous, it was a strange feeling that you did not know the reason. Or something strange about it that did not convince you.

Chris took you to his spacious living room, colored in a dark red and the soft melody of classical music came from a record player in the room.

“It’s late. Have you had dinner or would you like something, or something to drink?” he suggested politely.

You looked into his eyes, they were absolutely dark, he was so mesmerizing that you lost yourself for small moments.

“I’m fine, thank you Dr. Bahng.”

“Please call me Chris. I seriously love what I do” he brought a hand to his chest, “But people calling me Dr. all the time is exhausting.”

“I thought that’s what they liked to hear, after all they studied and went a long way to be able to call themselves that” you commented, more confidently, wanting to let go of the shyness in your body, seeing his effort to keep the atmosphere from becoming awkward.

He smiled and stared at you. Wow it had been a very very long road for Chris and you had no idea.

“To me it feels like people have been calling me that for over two hundred years. You seriously don’t want anything? I have fresh pomegranate juice.”

His comment confused you a bit and you caught his subtle change of subject.

“Juice is fine.”

He smiled narrowing his slitted, pretty eyes.

“Okay, make yourself comfortable, I’ll be right back. Do you want to do it at the table or on the couch?”

He was asking too many questions, you thought. You looked around the room, the ideal and professional would be the table, but the option of the couch and being able to more thoroughly capture everything about him seemed like a better idea.

“I’ll be on the couch, thank you.”

You couldn’t help but feel curious and probe with your eyes every tiny detail of the room, yes it was cold, you were so curious about Chris, but you had to keep a professional barrier, plus he was older and a superior to you. You couldn’t believe that a man like him was alone, he should have some partner out there.

You sat on the couch as you began to set up your stuff and audio and recording equipment, your notebook and pen to take notes, your cell phone in Do Not Disturb mode with the series of questions and before long Chris came over to you, with two glasses of a bright dark red juice, he set them down on the little table in front of you and turned off the record player.

“Thank you” you whispered to him, taking the glass shyly as you took a sip.

Chris smiled and sat down, approaching you and intimidating you with his gaze for the first time that night.

“Are you okay in there? Can you write well?” he asked without taking his eyes off you, raising his straight eyebrows as he stretched out his arm to take the glass and drink.

“Yes, thank you, Chris.”

He smiled again letting out a breath.

“Well” you said again, “Once the interview starts I have to refer to you all the time as Dr, is that okay”

“I understand, absolutely” he crooned softly and attractively, finding you tender when you spoke to him formally.

You admired his manly features and pale face for a second, letting your instincts take over, thinking that having him must be a dream. Chris widened his smile, almost blushing as if he had heard something funny.

“Ready?” you asked, awkwardly breaking the silence, his gaze on you felt heavy.

Your finger was already on the button of your recorder, positioned in the middle of you, when Chris said:

“Can I see your questions?”

“Oh, you didn’t get them?” you replied somewhat worried.

“Maybe I forgot to check the e-mail” he replied calmly.

You sketched a smile as you nodded softly and handed him your phone, he held it between his large hand and read the questions and handed it back to you with a disapproving grimace, worrying you a little more.

“Mmm... I can modify them, we can make this interview better.”

Your body heated up in embarrassment as you couldn’t believe he was doing that to you at the last minute. Those medicine fuckers, you thought, as you didn’t participate in the making of the questions.

“I mean I’ll give you something much better” he added.

You didn’t answer him for a moment but thought that you would see what to do later for it, that at the end of the day, it was you doing a favor by being there next to him at night.

“I want to answer to you, not the snooty med guys. Maybe we can do that later but… what are you thinking” he watched you closely.

Chris leaned his arm on the back of the couch and settled his body pointing in your direction, with a smug smile on his face using a serious tone, you felt his intensity. You only got more confused and thought, what? why would it matter what you thought? what was he trying to say?

“Because I’m interested in you. You come in here with the question of why I chose you, you want to know?” Chris said again, almost scaring you that he was answering what you were thinking.

Either he was fucking smart enough to read people easily and deduce obvious thoughts or there was something about him that was making you uneasy. You took a small sigh, you felt hopelessly attracted to him, dizzy, as if seeing his dark eyes was hypnotizing you, you quickly averted your gaze, scared thinking about what the fuck was going on, you saw the glass of juice, had he put something in it? That’s what you get for accepting drinks from an unknown man…

“It’s just juice” he answered, “You’re not feeling well?” he replied.

You looked at him again confused and slowly regained your composure.

“Why me?” you said, almost in a whisper, he raised his eyebrows waiting to hear more from you, “Why would I interview you at your home, specifically me, I have never interacted with you or been in the same area of the hospital working, besides, I’m just a nurse student.”

You had so many questions that you couldn’t deduce an answer to, you were curious and it made Chris grin from ear to ear. If only you knew, and you were about to, however, Chris just covered up the truth a little.

“You have such a genuine and kind gaze about you, never in the long years I’ve lived in this place have I ever seen a woman like you. You are so human, you are the one who takes care of the patients’ sleep when the doctors are away. I saw you that time when you were on shift at night… I asked your name, something about you never left my mind since then. I wanted to hold you close, to know you.”

And it was true, it was innocence to one of the questions your colleague asked you when Chris overheard the conversation, he turned to see you slyly and you captivated his attention, it was as if he had developed a new sensory ability that revolved around you. That night you left at 4 a.m. from that shift at the hospital, you were covering hours for an occasion you couldn’t attend, Chris lurked in the dark behind your back, making sure you arrived safely.

You understood half the things he said to you, didn’t know whether to take it as a confession, whether to blush, whether he was saying he liked you, you didn’t want to jump to conclusions, you didn’t even think you looked cute in your baggy clinic clothes, you didn’t know what he was talking about. Chris knew how overwhelming it all suddenly seemed to you, so he continued.

“And suddenly I saw, you have this presence about you of being someone to trust, someone who knows how to keep secrets. So I’ll tell you everything, things that people who know about this are dead. I’ll give you a better interview.”

You felt a shiver. Confusion and genuine curiosity in your bright eyes as your breath was cut off at his masculine, domineering presence and wordplay that felt like riddles. For Chris, he didn’t need any more facts about you, he knew absolutely everything. Digging into your little more than twenty years of life was not a difficult task for him, compared to his long journey. There was only one thing he needed and wanted and that was to have you, to breathe your scent, to listen to you and to look into your eyes. He was obsessed, so in his madness he wanted to confess you something that only 1 person “alive” in this world knew. By sharing his secret with you, he hoped to be united with you for eternity.

“What is it about?” you asked with uncertainty in your voice.

The innocence in your gaze filled Chris completely and he smiled smugly, pressing his long index finger on the button of your voice recorder, you became engrossed in the pallor of his strong arm, almost transparent leaving his notorious veins visible, until he spoke and you stared at him.

“My name is Christopher Chan Bahng, I was born on October 3rd, 1797 in Seoul, South Korea. My father was Korean and my mother was French, they met when my mother escaped the country shortly after the French Revolution, her whole family went their separate ways and her ship stopped in the lands of East Asia, she met my father, a merchant fond of the folk healing medicine of the time and I was born, the eldest of three children. I had a beautiful sister and brother, whom I adored with my soul until their last breaths, both died old and happy. And I-, well, I’m still here, right?”

You looked at him puzzled, skeptical, wondering if this was a joke, 1797, French revolution, what the fuck was he talking about? You wanted to start looking around for cameras because you thought it was a fucking joke.

“I had a good childhood, everything was fine until I turned thirteen and my mother had to go back to France because her sister got sick and she was the only family she had, she didn’t hear from her parents two years after she moved to Korea, so she took me and my siblings, leaving my father behind. It was in Paris in 1810 when the curiosity and passion for medicine was born in me, I had seen it a little bit with my father but things in Europe were so different. All the people lived sick, and died young. Conflicts left in their wake an unbelievable amount of disease. I traveled around Europe, learned languages and studied medicine in France, but female anatomy was my particular interest, they were such enigmatic, intelligent beings but my passion leaned more towards obstetrics, it was amazing that because of women humanity kept growing and growing and the world looked down on it. I loved to see and receive a new life… most of the time I was dedicated as an obstetric doctor for women of important families, so carrying the little one in my arms I could deduce that they would have a good life, good, for that time, but I always loved to help, I would visit the French village in search of poor pregnant women and I would do my best to preserve the life of both. Life was always for me… something so precious because back then every day was a new challenge, public executions, dying at sea and never being found when traveling, an infection or disease from an unknown agent that could lead to your death, the bad habits people used to have, the types of beliefs, life back then was ephemeral and a ticking time bomb.”

You listened to him attentively, lost in the details, you didn’t know if it was a joke or a story but… you were slowly falling for it, Chris was telling everything with emotion, with his hands moving and his look… as if he was genuinely remembering his past.

“On the other hand, my siblings made their lives, my sister got married at 20, she was a pianist and singer and went to live in Great Britain. My brother was a respected judge and married at 25 and I... was truly immersed in medicine, I never stopped to think about love, about wanting to marry and live with a traditional family, I was lost in study and in the discovery and advancement of medicine, until shortly before I turned 28, in 1825, my mother became ill with cholera and died. I was devastated, I became obsessed to the point of wanting to study more and more, I studied with some colleagues but I couldn’t stand it and the following year I escaped to Korea again in search of my father, to see if he was well, gosh, it was so extreme the way you had to reach out to someone. I arrived in Seoul the winter of 1826, I was lucky enough to find my father and we had a close relationship again. I went back to work as a doctor, I was a little bit popular as it was so fascinating for the pregnant women of the time, a doctor from Europe and... the following spring I met the love of my life, a popular midwife in town, we met doing our work and I fell deeply in love, by the fall I turned thirty I was marrying Lim Sohee.”

Chris paused for a second and silence fell, as if mentioning that name had overwhelmed him. And it had, it was touching deep down inside him, he hadn’t mentioned he... since so many years ago. You were engrossed, studying his demeanor and listening to the story... if it was a joke, how come he could tell it so well, you were in your mind visualizing every single thing, letting yourself be carried away by whatever he was telling you.

“I really thought I would have it all in Seoul, when I met Sohee I knew I wanted a family, that I wanted to take care of another life, having children and adoring them forever... but she could never conceive. She was infertile. We had a bad time trying, but she was getting sadder and sadder as it was what we both did and she couldn’t have ours. At that time I... was so desperate to know which of us was the main cause so I did something I will never forgive myself for, I impregnated a young, virginal woman from an important family... and the consequences were inevitable, I had my first daughter, identical to me, with my mother’s eyes. Bahng Chanmi was born on April 13th, 1830. I was happy because my dream was to have children, but devastated at the same time. Chanmi’s mother’s family, Insook, found out and for a moment I thought I was going to be executed as I was a married man, but they forced me to leave Soohe and marry Insook instead” Chris cleared his throat as if that was hard to speak, “Sohee couldn’t believe it, she left me and ran away to Japan leaving me heartbroken. I never saw her again and I never thought I would ever be able to love another woman again other than my own daughter, but I felt she took everything from me... until I...” Chris paused again to look at you carefully but continued, “I lost myself again, I didn’t love Insook, but I wanted to be a good father to Chanmi, so I was there for her. Two years after Chanmi was born, my father died, I endured two more years in Seoul and in 1834 I arrived with Insook and Chanmi in Sydney. I loved it here from the first moment I set foot in... but I was still disoriented, I was a mess, I felt that everyone around me was leaving me, I was only there for my daughter, I was passionate about nothing else, I fell into a bad habit of going to parties and taking refuge in alcohol and it was just one day after my 37th birthday when I immortalized that number in me. On October 4th, 1834 at about 3 a.m. in the harbor area of Sydney, a creature creeping in the night lured me with his voice and words, I was drunk, with no mind at all... and it was that night that he made me into what I am now” a new pause, “A vampire.”

You didn’t expect that, in fact you didn’t know what you expected in all that talk... but a vampire explained why he talked about himself living since the 19th century... but a vampire, it was illogical. There was no such thing, still, you again felt a chill and an uneasiness in his gaze. You didn’t want to be intimidated by that... it must be a joke, a scary story.

Christopher remembered it as if it were yesterday, the sleek, slender shadow of a delicate blond man approaching a helpless, drunken, heartbroken doctor. His face was angelic, but his demonic voice and intentions of a cold, murderous beast were even worse.

“I have seen you for a long time Dr. Christopher Bahng, saving lives to the good people in Sydney, doing god’s work... but... I see nothing but hell in you, you are unhappy, don’t you want some remedy?”

His voice was rough, thick, and his tone of voice playful. Chris remembers being dizzy, still seeing his silhouette and face. A young man, beautiful with freckles, long blond hair, wide dark eyes, and pale skin. Chris thought he was dreaming... or to have arrived in heaven, although if that’s what heaven was all about, why did he feel so ill.

Chris watched him in confusion, the cold sea air shivering his body with chill. The man was dressed in black and there was something in his gaze that unsettled every inch of Chris.

The blond huffed out a chuckle.

“I’m going to disappear everything from you... I’ll be your cure.”

“How?” was all a desperate Chris could say.

“All it takes... it’s just a little taste... of your blood.”

The next thing Chris felt was two strong stabs on his neck, the slender boy took his body, biting his neck, sucking and tasting every part of him. Chris whimpered and panted loudly, he felt mutilated, it was worse than the feeling of a scalpel on his skin and the sensation spread through his body, Chris struggled and fought, but surprisingly the thin boy was much stronger than him. Then he fell weak and unconscious, he knew nothing, until dawn when workers shook his body vigorously trying to wake him up near the harbor. But Chris felt different and the sunrise was slowly burning down his skin.

“Felix Lee was the name of the man... vampire who turned me. Felix was an attractive man, he had a unique beauty that mesmerized anyone, his appearance was so innocent which is why people fell for his tricks so quickly, Felix loved the game of seduction, cat and mouse, he would lure both men and women and then kill them leaving them without a drop of blood...”

You looked at him skeptically, his story was making less and less sense to you, Chris stopped instantly knowing what you were thinking.

“I know I know” he chuckled, “A vampire is kind of... crazy, with all the fiction these days, the movies and the marketing but... Party trick, check this out” Chris said amused.

Suddenly, he showed you his teeth, a normal set of teeth until you watched as in a millisecond his fangs lengthened, becoming sharp typical fangs... vampire fangs. You were scared, you didn’t want to believe it, it was impossible. His teeth went back to normal.

"There’s no reason to take the family photos, you wouldn’t believe it, photoshop makes those wonders and old-fashioned stuff out of my medicine materials? People sell it on ebay all the time... how come I can prove it to you?”

“A vampire?” you said in fright, interrupting him, “Really... it’s not a joke...?”

“Sadly no. I’ve been 37 for 190 years.”

You laughed in disbelief, you were beginning to believe... but your mind betrayed you, freaking you out and thinking that maybe this was a killer, a psychopath who likes blood, one of those obsessed weirdo types and perhaps the idea entered his head like internet psycho...? Chris laughed.

“I’m not some weirdo who obsesses over something he sees on the internet, not some random killer either” he commented.

You freaked out and went back to see him... how did he....

“How do I know what you think? I can read minds a little bit” he answered amused.

You denied, you were so scared to visualize anything else... that your mind betrayed you and you thought of Twilight’s movie.

“Twilight, really? Give me something more believable to tell you.”

You widened your eyes in fright, your breathing was getting uneven and you thought about calling Jeongin, that it was enough trick or treat and you had to go home.

“Jeongin... he’s not your boyfriend, is he? I didn’t expect you to want to leave so soon.”

“How do you know all that? Can you stop?”

“I’m sorry, it’s your privacy, I understand,” he apologized, “I don’t want to scare you.”

Chris didn’t know what your reaction might be, that was one of the only things he couldn’t control, but something in him was irrevocably drawn to you and the strength of that desire for you was so strong and hard to handle. It was... as if all his years of discipline, long decades of controlling his hunger and bestial lust were in vain, in the end, he fell for a young and simple human.

He was exactly scaring you... if you believed him... what was the point of telling you.

“I’m not going to hurt you either” he replied.

“How?” you told him more calmly after seeing his soft and worried expression, something in you couldn’t distrust him, “It’s so unreal...”

He sighed.

“It’s one of the questions I’ve asked myself for over a hundred years, but it wasn’t my fault, I didn’t ask to be, I cherished life but I didn’t ask to live for eternity, Felix turned me...”

You looked him in the eyes, “And what happened to Felix?” you interrupted him.

“After he turned me... I didn’t know what was happening to me, I had those two marks on my neck, the sun was burning my body and I had a ravenous hunger that wouldn’t be filled with food. And it was something I couldn’t control even being near Insook or Chanmi, I thought I was becoming mentally ill and wanted to murder them. I walked away from them and wandered around feeling weak and sick, I thought I would die alone. I was locked in my office, receiving no one until a young woman knocked on my door at night, worried about her dead sister’s baby whom she was now caring for, but I couldn’t, the smell of blood was killing me. The child had a fever and I did everything I could, I cured him by telling her that she should leave as soon as possible and to keep me updated if the fever went down and she insisted on thanking me, with the baby resting in a crib, I could not take it anymore and drank the poor girl’s blood and she fell, weak in my arms and I thought I had killed her, I was terrified, I acted on impulse and from there I knew I had become a monster. I didn’t know what to do... but I felt so good, so alive and strong. I took care of the child and left the woman’s body in the office, but she woke up the next day leaving me terrified, all this was defying every part of my being studied by science, I did not know how to control it and I also turned her. Felix showed up one night, congratulating me for my first blood tasting, I wanted to beat him to death, I asked him what I had become and he laughed and told me... a vampire. In the end it was chaos, Felix fell madly in love with the young girl I had turned and convinced me to go and live with them and the baby, as he said... we were the only monsters in Sydney. Felix would kill, but he never turned anyone. He was turned by an English guy who came back to Europe when Felix was innocently looking for some sex. He was obsessed with me as soon as he saw me... but once Adeline came along, the girl I converted, she truly became the love of Felix’s life.”

The distance between you and Chris was getting shorter, you listened carefully to his every word that came out with emotion, more than his old story, this time it was getting serious and you could see it in every part of it.

“Felix became so obsessed because she was a young, virginal woman, bragging that taking her blood was the reason it would satisfy my lust for quite a while. I lived with them but was still caring for and raising Chanmi. They both raised Adeline’s nephew and had the crazy idea of turning him when he was older. They were a mess together, I tried to convince them not to kill, and I fed myself on fake blood donation schemes I made up... but Felix and Adeline had a killer and predator instinct, they loved to catch people and rejoice in their pain and cries. After 10 years of living with them, my little Chanmi couldn’t understand why her mother was getting older and her father looked just like how she remembered him as a child. I made excuses and when she turned 20 I explained to her... Everything was fine, I lived with them because I was obsessed, they were my objects of study, I wanted to know the anatomy of a vampire and how anything worked, but impossible not to be captivated by them and their dirty little games” Chris grimaced, remembering his weak moments when lust would take over his instincts and he would have sex with both of them, “but Adeline had a secret, she was in love with me and not Felix, she confessed it to me after living 15 years with them and in her madness she believed it was Felix who came between us so, one evening in June 1849, Adeline killed Felix, giving him dead people’s blood, making him weak and confused, then stabbed his heart and set the house on fire...”

Chris looked you in the eye as you imagined each graphic scene. At least Chris believed Felix was dead however no body was ever found... although he wondered if it was even possible to come across a vampire body since the house wasn’t completely ruined, they got to cease-fire in time but found nothing.

“Then I did something I’m not proud of” you saw him attentively, “Adeline threatened to hurt Insook and Chanmi if I didn’t stay with her, that she would tell everyone what kind of creatures we are... the next thing I did was to capture her and keep her kidnapped for a week without human blood contact, she was going crazy and her hunger was a thousand times bigger than a romance, she promised to stay away from me if I released her, I did it and never saw her again...”

You worried, thinking that she may be seeking revenge to which Chris smiled, unable to help but read your mind and find it tender that you cared.

You had so many questions as soon as the silence formed... so many but so many questions but you just said:

“So what happened next?”

“Well, I stayed away from practicing medicine for periods because it was so suspicious that I was supposed to be 60 and I looked 30. My life became miserable as soon as Chanmi died at 85. I got to see her two children grow up, but she knew them well enough that she realized if she told them that their grandfather was a vampire they would expose me so my secret went along with her... I occasionally see everyone to make sure my family tree is still there. But the Bahng family name has been lost. I went back to Europe with a new identity, I went back to Asia and back to Australia again, I was just doing that to fill the void, I couldn’t die, and I wasn’t sure how a vampire could die, I also didn’t want to die terribly or in the horrible way Adeline did to Felix; I wanted a normal life, I wanted to grow old, to have children, I always wanted more children, to see them grow up and take them to play...”

You grimaced, analyzing the anguish in his tone as he confessed something that seemed like a dashed dream, you wondered for a second if he could still have children.

“Of course I still can” he replied looking you straight in the eye, making you feel inferior because it was hard to believe he could read your mind, “Physically I’m thirty years old forever, mentally, well... I must have died over 100 years ago” he let out a chuckle.

“And you stayed in Sydney, why? I thought you couldn’t stand the sun,” you said.

You wanted to avoid thinking about him, his closeness, his physical attractiveness, and his serious emotional tone of voice when saying something, as you knew he was going to know what you were thinking about.

“I can do it, for a short time and under a lot of protection, I love the beach, I adore seeing it even if I look like a lunatic covered from head to toe” he laughed again, “I finally stayed in Australia in the early 20th century and it wasn’t until the 80’s that I met someone like me... another vampire who was stalking me for years without me knowing it, Kim Seungmin, the director of the hospital, since then we have a pact, he has taken care of absolutely everything and keeps me in practice, I disappear for a while, then go back to my work, but lately people have been so curious to know what I do, the last identity I had is that I was born in 1987, I think I can work 10 more years, then I’ll step away for another few years until I can reappear, but you young people today, it’s hard to hide identities since you know everything, you’re suspicious of the slightest thing just because I don’t even have a damn instagram. Being a vampire is miserable.”

You opened your eyes in surprise to discover that there was more than one near you, or at least in the same city.

He stared at you again, piercing you with his gaze, “I led a strict lifestyle with discipline, I stopped drinking blood and did so only at Seungmin’s clandestine meetings when he gave it to me. Sometimes I only stayed alive out of curiosity at some point... if I could ever feel anything else, if I could ever let myself feel empty, or if I was doomed for eternity. Now I want to answer all the questions you have, you are free to know everything.”

His face slightly close to yours made you nervous, his gaze carried something you had never seen in someone before. Suddenly you forgot every single one of your questions, from the most serious and sensible to the silliest, you were absolutely unfocused and could only think about how your breath was going away at that enigmatic attraction you felt, it didn’t feel like any normal attraction, but it genuinely felt like something of yours, not something he was making into you. Your intrusive thoughts won out, you wanted to kiss him, you wanted to do it from the second you saw him, and you wanted a little adventure being alone at night, but the small thought of a simple make-out turned dark.

And Christopher could know every single scene that crossed your mind, once again you made him feel different, you made him feel full of energy without the need to taste your blood, he was no longer a soulless creature that had been living in darkness for almost 200 years, he had a desire towards you as any other human could feel but in him, it was a thousand times more intense, he gathered all the energy for the long years he never managed to get it.

He wasn’t sure whether to fulfill your thoughts but he couldn’t resist it any longer, he wanted to have you like he had never felt before and every second he didn’t touch you was overwhelming, he might die if he didn’t.

Your heart pounded as Chris put a big, cold hand on your face. He could smell and feel in every inch of himself your alive, human, blood-pumping body. His lust turned to a dark desire to taste you, an uncontrollable desire to fill your body with pleasure and fill himself with something more intense than a drug, your sweet, thick blood.

“And even after all these fucking years of the same hell... nothing compares to what you make me feel. You drive me crazy. This is something new, after 190 years of study and discipline... that fucked off as soon as I saw you.”

Once again his intimidating, deep gaze fixed on you, Chris brought his hand to your other cheek and held your face, analyzing it, as if it was something so unfamiliar to him... you watched him and let him touch you, almost quivering in shivering, between excitement at the tense atmosphere and uncertainty at the constant mystery he had you trapped in. Bahng breathed deeply, filling himself with your scent and enjoying the feel of your smooth young skin in his icy hands. He moved closer to you, pushing your voice recorder to the floor and you placed your hands over his to feel his long, slender fingers, his protruding veins... vampire or doctor, human, your body was uncontrollably begging for Christopher Bahng.

Finally, he kissed you, his masculine, cold nose touching your face to join your lips deeply and passionately with a hunger that never seemed to cease. It felt so good to be kissed and taken by a man, between his big hands that one of them went down to your neck causing you to shiver every time he had contact with your skin, but for Chris who has lived in coldness for an exaggerated amount of time, having you close and touching you was like discovering warmth for the first time. His lips were soft and plump and his movements delicate but passionate. So far arousal for him had been so normal, an idea that occasionally crossed his mind and he would seek some sex to distract himself and he enjoyed it and liked to do it... but right now with you, it was different, it was a colossal desire to have you, and his desperate touches reflected it.

He lowered his hands to your waist and slowly drew you into his body, until he was carrying you lightly with ease and placing you on his lap. You felt him, felt the firmness of his crotch press exquisitely against your cunt. Chris stroked down your body, stroked your hair in desperate acts as he longed to feel your bare skin, and kept playing with his mouth, lips, and tongue on you until you were breathless and just as you were about to part from him slowly, he found a way to bite down hard on your lower lip, making you moan softly and causing you to slightly expel blood from it; Chris smiled and licked your lip, playfully tasting your blood, as it wasn’t exactly from that source that he could fully satisfy himself.

You both looked at each other expectantly with ragged breaths; Chris acted desperate and took off your sweater, admiring your silhouette to take off your bra, you felt the cold of the room on your body making your nipples hard, you were nervous and stunned at the speed in which things were happening but you let yourself go again as you felt his big hands squeeze and caress your breasts while his fleshy lips went to your neck, kissing it and leaving hickeys that made you moan in pleasure, your center was so needy, throbbing desperately like your heart, it was adrenaline with excitement, it was such an addictive feeling so you began to move gently over his erection, making you both hotter and getting Chris’ rough, sexy short moans on your skin in response.

Chris kept caressing your breasts and squeezed your nipples, adapting to every sensation of his skin against yours, guarding in detail every sound you made and the action of your body every time he touched you. This time he was putting all his will into not letting his bestial side win, but he inhaled the scent of your neck and watched your skin tingle... he wanted to taste you, to drink you, and the idea made his hard erection throb, he had never felt sexual pleasure from biting someone, the action itself conveyed the sensation of intense orgasms together without the need for his genitals to react but right now he was being a mess, he had no control of his body, his cock was alive, hard and present for every inch of you... and the curiosity for your taste was driving him to madness.

“Baby girl I want to taste you... I want you to make me feel so full” he whispered, still torn whether to do it or not.

You stopped moving, and every hair on your skin bristled, you knew exactly what it meant, you leaned back on his shoulders and his hands caressed your waist and back, suddenly you felt the sharp edge of his fangs caress your skin. Slight fear and uneasiness came over your body, and your heart skipped a beat... if you let him do it, where would he do it? To what part of your skin does he get to pierce his fangs? Does it get into a vein? You can bleed to death...? And if it’s something he does, seduce young people and then drink their blood? Will you die tonight?

“Your pretty mind is full of questions...” he said again, his voice full of lust as he tightened his grip on your waist, “You’re a nurse, you shouldn’t be afraid of a little pain and light pinching...”

You let out a gut-wrenching scream, filling Chris’ every sense, he did it, he couldn’t control it and tasted you. He knew it hurt like hell, that only a sick fucker turned on by someone else’s pain could enjoy it and that was him, right now, what he wanted so badly to evade in his younger years in such cruel times.

You dug your hands in and slapped his shoulders, struggling to get away from him, crying as you felt two stab wounds dig in and penetrate your neck beyond your muscle, you wanted him to stop, you were feeling the suction of your blood, it was a new and uncomfortable feeling; for Chris it was heaven itself, 60 seconds in paradise tasting your thick and delicious blood that he had fantasized about for so long, the one that made you so unique, that flowed into your being and carried in it secrets of who you came from. Your blood filled him completely and as soon as he tasted it he knew it was pure and virginal blood. It drove him absolutely insane. And for you, it was hell, 60 seconds of sharp, agonizing pain.

His fangs pierced deep into you, every second was eternal but you felt that no matter how hard you fought it was in vain, you began to feel weak, to stop whimpering loudly and your vision began to blur, you were terrified but weak, you didn’t want this to be your final day.

On the other hand, Chris was holding you tightly by the waist until he left marks on your skin, he couldn’t stop, he had never tasted anything like this, he was obsessed, but he couldn’t prolong your pain any longer so he stopped.

His face turned away from your neck and he stared at you. You could see his smug smile and his lips and long fangs tinged with a thick dark red, which he licked, reveling in every last drop. You reacted again, frightened, your heart wanting to burst out of your chest, you brought your hands trembling with pain and horror to your neck and the wounded area, your neck hurt but it was a tolerable pain of discomfort, you felt the area, terrified to find yourself bleeding out but there was nothing, more than a few small drops of blood that stained your fingers and the sensation of the marks of two circular bites.

“No... I’m not bleeding... why?” you said in terror, feeling uncomfortable at the sensation of his marks as you palpated them.

“You forget I’m a surgeon too and that I’ve been a doctor for almost two hundred years, I made the perfect incision for you, pretty girl” he spoke in an arrogant tone, grabbing your trembling hand with your index and middle fingers enveloped in little blood and licked them playfully.

“I loved tasting your blood, now I’ll love tasting some more.”

Chris moved your body nimbly, sitting you on the couch as he bent down slightly, looking deeply at you again making you shudder, your fear slowly lowered, your body was racing, and you didn’t know if you were alive or dead but the sensations were so real. You felt you shouldn't have gotten aroused, but you did, his big hands tugged your skirt down until it was pulled off, and he spread your legs apart and got down on his knees in front of your center covered by your wet panties and fishnet stockings.

“Let me make you feel good. Is that okay?”

His tone of voice was sensual and captivating, his hands squeezed and massaged your thighs without touching your pussy. You didn’t understand how you went from fearing for your life to being once again with a fierce sexual appetite. You bit your lip to hold back your moan. You were alive. He was a vampire and you were both suddenly looking for sex on that cold and lonely night. You held back a moan and nodded, embarrassed to respond.

Chris drew a mischievous half smile on his face, observing and admiring every detail of your confused and aroused pretty and delicate face, your cheeks red and shiny from your previously shed tears of pain and finally he finely caressed with his fingers the length of your pussy getting as a response a moan and the soft twitching of your body. He pulled off your stockings desperately almost tearing them and pulled the fabric of your panties aside to admire your glistening pussy wrapped in your arousal, he let out an incredulous chuckle, now he was the skeptic that he could finally have you, that you had him trapped and feeling like he never had in 227 years on earth that most seemed like hell to him, until he met you, make today the day he could have you and kissed your lips; and the idea that you were a sweet young virgin woman went to his head, he wanted to make you feel so good, he wanted you to enjoy yourself like never if another boy never did, he wanted to treat you like the delicate girl you were, but also his inhuman pleasure wanted to take your body and feel your insides hard.

“Look at you, you’re beautiful.”

He was mesmerized, sweetly overwhelmed, poisoned and obsessed. He never wanted to let you go. He wanted you to be his, to leave a mark on you that would remind the world that you belonged to him, that he was the lucky one who put his hands, eyes and heart on you.

Chris brought his lips close to your clit, sucking it gently, you were again weak but with pleasure at the same time full of energy, your body was restless mind anxious for everything he could do to you, you could think of nothing else but him and you now in that room surrendered to desire.

Chris began to lick you, pulling away the fabric of your panties with one hand and with the other caressing every area that his mouth could not reach to coat, you moaned, his mouth was also cool to your warm core, it was feeling so good, Chris was hard at the thought of your innocence, of the light fabric that kept him from having you completely naked, that you were just beginning to live, that a few seconds ago you were crying in pain and now you were biting your lip holding back your gasps.

He began to stimulate you, licking your vulva, entwining his tongue in your labia, caressing your clit, pulling back the fabric of your panties, and stroking you over it to play with you and moisten it further, teasing your entrance. You stirred in place, restless and excited, forgetting the pain in your neck and shyly stroking his soft, slightly wavy dark hair. You were so aroused, every inch of you wrapped in fire.

Chris finally removed your panties as he saw you flustered and aroused, enjoying every second of caressing your legs on the spot, and took your pussy again with more desperation, he stopped his slow gentle play and began to eat you roughly but his movements were nimble and pleasurable. His face was buried in your core with his long fingers touching absolutely everything about you and when you least expected it, two of his digits inserted deep inside you, fucking you in a rapid pace.

You watched him the whole time, Chris occasionally gasped into your pussy genuinely happy to taste you, he was engrossed in you, wrapped in pleasure as he heard your moans and felt your body tremble. Chris raised his arm to reach up to caress your abdomen and breasts, he wanted to miss absolutely nothing about you that night he had you. You were on the verge of collapse and he knew it, he looked up as he went back to sucking your clit, he made eye contact with you, his dark eyes watching you fade before him and play with pleasure, you gasped releasing the tension in your lower abdomen, pushing out an intense orgasm that delighted Chris more than thousands of liters of unknown people’s blood could along his vampiric trajectory. Your sweet orgasm juice was something new that he could die from if he didn’t consume it, he discovered his new antidote for eternity.

You were agitated but inside you knew this wasn’t over yet. Chris savored your orgasm and felt impatient, he knew you couldn’t wear two marks on your neck proudly... or maybe you could, with how crazy he thought it was nowadays, but he was past his craziest moment, now he wanted to do to you what any human in a situation like you both were in would do, he was going to forever attach himself to you, he was going to enjoy every second of being inside you and being the first one to do it.

“Fuck, I can take it anymore, you will be mine forever.”

You watched as Chris stood up as he licked his lips covered in your glistening liquid, and took off his shirt in one swift movement because he wanted to feel your ragged breathing on his chest and the pounding of your heart attached to it and stripped completely naked removing his remaining clothes. You didn’t know you were really expected to lose your virginity that night let alone with Dr. Bahng... who confirmed you to be a vampire. You saw his face and pale, muscular naked body without any marks or scratches with nervousness and excitement, feeling your center moisten at the sight of his large erect cock. He moved closer to you, with a lurking gaze and kissed you again, playing with your tongue and your body trembled at the sudden sensation of his cock rubbing between your vulva and being wrapped around your labia.

“Ah, fuck, I’ll make you mine now, baby girl” he gasped in exasperation.

Chris couldn’t resist the softness of your folds teasing his cock so he slowly delved into your entrance, making you whimper as he hurt you again and opened up another part of you. But you enjoyed it, this time the pain was purely pleasurable and the scene of his large, wide cock opening your entrance was so obese and graphic. Chris moaned in pleasure with your walls choking his rigid member deep inside you. You saw the slight bulge in your belly form in your lower abdomen one last time as Chris carried your weak and excited body, making you wrap your legs around his body, he grabbed your ass and began to control your body raising and lowering it to his desire as he enjoyed your insides being sweetly ravaged. You whimpered again feeling so full but sore, you hugged him, pressing your bare chest to his. Chris moved your body with ease and at his mercy, babbling and moaning absolutely lost in the sexy sensation of finally having you, sliding his cock into your newly-used entrance, feeding himself on your soft whimpers. Chris felt full again, as alive as he hadn’t been for long, overwhelming years, your fluids combining with his, sliding along his cock and falling towards the floor gracefully, being a mess of passion that cold night. Chris fantasized about filling every part of you with his cum, the risk of the frantic sex you were having was taking him to the clouds, for the first time he had his experience close to heaven.

You felt your orgasm close, you were on the edge, it felt so good you wanted to arch your back, you parted from him, restless and agitated, throwing your head back enjoying the sweet pace it was to have him deep in you tickling and pounding deep inside you. Chris raised his eyebrows, ecstatic seeing your borderline expression, closing your eyes and throwing your head back panting softly, he stroked your neck at first, running his thumbs over the fang marks on your neck, thinking that lust had won in your body, with the amount he sucked you must have felt dizzy and passed out... but there you were bouncing on his cock, about to have your second orgasm and without thinking about it, again something took over him, to have absolute control of everything about you, to have you on the edge of absolutely every single thing you did, Chris grabbed your neck hard, causing you a sharp pain as he pressed tightly on your still sensitive injured area and started to cut off your breath, choking you and still moving your body with ease on his cock. You looked at him, his expression was soft, his eyes dark, but his actions were brutal, abusing your entrance, cutting off your breath and hurting you more where he had previously done so... the pain was grinding in your neck, which made you let out a tear, the pain in your sensitive pussy burned and throbbed, but you couldn’t help but continue to experience an irremediable pleasure, your pumping system seeking release, fighting against what to control first, you whimpered, his grip on your neck growing tighter and tighter, you pinned back into his strong shoulders, whimpered chokingly, finally collapsing in an orgasm that weakened every one of your limbs. And in the midst of your orgasm Chris cum inside you, fantasizing about the idea that you might be the sweet, tender woman who could carry on the Bahng name after so many years.

He let go of your neck gradually, letting you take a breath of air. Chris pulled out of you, leaving you surrendered with the warm sensation of his cum sliding down your entrance. You wanted to cry from the stabbing pain in your body but you were so tired to do so, you were so shaken, worried about the speed of your heartbeat, but you fell back into his strong arms, leaned your cheek on his shoulder and could only whisper:

“Chris I’m tired.”

Your eyelids began to grow heavy, you were feeling sedated and without control of your limbs.

“Oh my sweet girl, of course you are, I drank a good amount of your blood and you continued to have sex” he spoke in an obvious tone, causing him tenderness at your state.

Chris put his forearm behind your knees, carrying you as your legs felt numb. It was a different feeling, you couldn’t quite rationalize and wanted to fall into a deep sleep. He led you to his room, cold like the rest of the house and your vision began to spin. Chris laid you gently on his bed and you caught a glimpse of his window, illuminated by the night and in front of it the silhouette of a slim blond man... you were slowly falling and before falling into an uncontrollable sleep your mind managed to think of that name Chris mentioned, Felix. Chris read your tired mind for one last time before you closed your eyes to sleep.

He opened his eyes, frightened, there was nothing in the world that scared him more than the demonic presence of that blond boy. His distinctive voice echoed throughout the room and Chris saw his slender silhouette emerge from the darkness of the window.

“Christopher Bahng, my long-time friend. I see you finally got some other lady to have fun with... sharing all your little secrets, but did you miss me?”

꒷꒦︶꒷꒦︶ ๋ ࣭ ⭑꒷꒦ ꒷꒦︶꒷꒦︶ ๋ ࣭ ⭑꒷꒦

𐙚TAGLIST: @rylea08 @hann1bee @iovecb97 @armystay89 @lolareadsimagines @lailac13 @ayyonoona @do-you-remember-summer-127 @wildtokay @korthbum @oddracha @hyune-sssne @velvetmoonlght @shadowhunterathene @compersian @binniesbabe @strayywayy @mallielovssyou @isabel-018 @paborachaslvt

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madaqueue · 14 days ago

Text

CARVE ME UP AND EAT ME

there was almost no information on the mysterious cult nestled into the mountainside near your hometown, with even less knowledge about its leader. curiosity sets you on your path to investigate, but something else manages to keep you.

pairing: vampire!suguru geto x f!reader

themes/content: dark content (dubcon). smut. cult leader suguru, blood drinking/feeding, like mind control-ish? idk i was making up vampire rules here, pet names (little lamb), oral (reader receiving), p in v (missionary). 18+, MDNI (wk: 7.6k)

a/n: HAPPY HALLOWEEN EVERYONE!!!!!!!!!!!! thanks for getting freaky with me this month, it's been such a blast and i love you all!!!! hope you get to dress up and have lots of yummy candy tonight :) mwah!!!!!

quintober masterlist | main masterlist

People rarely came back from the mountains.

When they did, they were…different. Months, even years having passed from their disappearance, and suddenly returning with no memory of it. As though their time away suddenly ceased to exist. They couldn’t recall what they had done, who they were with, anything that could help the townspeople pin down the mysterious group making their home in the depths of the woods.

Any efforts to catch the so-called cult were obviously futile - the town lost enough soldiers that the leaders decided it was pointless to send anymore sacrifices.

So, there was a sort of peace. Well, less peace, and more a silent war, a battle of contempt, one that left everyone on edge. Whenever someone went missing, the entire village stood on edge, waiting but never searching.

But you were trained well, oh so well.

“Never go out at night.” “Never stray from us.” “Never get lost.”

“Never go into the mountains.”

They praised you for your obedience, feeding it to you from dirtied palms, making you kneel before them to drink from it. It felt good to be good.

Obedience is strength.

Their orders pulled at the strings of your muscles, dictating your actions, your movements, your very thoughts. They pulled and pulled and pulled until you were stretched taut, desperately tightening you into a form they deemed desirable.

It was only a matter of time before the strings snapped.

The fight was blurry now, nothing more than screams and tears and broken expectations so sharp you worried you may cut yourself. Your feet hit the ground outside your parents’ home faster than you could breathe in the burning air, cold in your lungs.

You had always obeyed.

So now, perhaps you could enact your final act of disobedience. The one thing that had been taught to you so deeply until it buried itself under your skin.

The path up the mountain wasn’t nearly as dangerous as others made it seem. Truthfully, it was shockingly well-maintained, the occasional branch snapping under your feet but no other obstacles.

What could even be so bad about this place, anyways?

The people who returned were never injured, always fed and clean and cared for. They always came back in a fresh set of robes draped over their skin, no signs of markings or damage painted across their bodies.

The options weighed heavy on your tongue. Either you’d reach the cult’s temple, or you’d die trying.

Either way, you’d be acting on your own. You’d be independent, free. With an exhale, you blew the remaining obedience into dust, joining the stars sparkling overhead.

The moon seemed pleased with your choice, at least, guiding your path clearly through the woods. Whenever the ground below your feet disappeared, you knew you had misstepped, returning easily to the worn-in gravel placed along the way. Eventually, the trees became sparse, no longer guarding you from whatever lays ahead.

It takes a moment for your eyes to adjust before focusing on the building before you, a gentle glow illuminating the temple through its exterior screens. It was certainly different than you imagined, expecting high stone barriers walling off a great fortress, leaving you to wonder: could masses of soldiers truly not pierce the paper screens protecting this deadly palace?

Yet, you couldn’t help but feel welcomed; it was unimposing, the warm lights flickering inside a definite sign of life. How many people call this their home? How many people serve here?

The wooden steps leading to the entrance creak slightly below your weight, palm hesitantly resting on the sliding door. Doubt flashes across your mind, the pull of your family threatening to tug you back home - should you turn around, forget this silly stunt and return to the life you had known?

Before you can move, the screen slides open in your grasp.

“Do come in,” a soft voice calls from inside as light floods your vision.

Your weight makes you stumble forward as your feet move on their own, carrying you into the room. It’s nice inside, the smell of sage lingering in the air as you make your way to the center. Before you is a man, his green and gold robes hanging loosely from his shoulders, the bare skin covered only by inky locks cascading down his back. His position looks almost leisurely as he kneels, his eyes scanning your figure.

“Sit.”

And you do - your knees buckle as you lower yourself to the ground.

A devilish grin spreads across his lips as he follows your motions. For a moment, his gaze locks on yours, deep purple eyes staring back.

“Quite an obedient little thing, aren’t you?” he purrs.

Air rushes into your lungs through a gasp, but you can’t stop the muscles in your neck from nodding.

What the fuck is happening? Why can’t you control your body?

As fear begins to course through your nerves, the stranger in front of you lets out a breathy giggle. “Good, that’s very good,” he muses.

When he rises to stand, your heart drops as you realize just how deeply you may have fucked up. He’s tall, easily towering over you. The bottom of his robes graze the floor as he circles you quietly - no, silently.

The sound of his humming vibrates in the air - you want to look at him, monitor him for any malicious intent, but you can’t bring yourself to turn your head.

When he’s completed his course around you, he returns to his seat on the floor. Perching himself on the balls of his feet, he leans forward. Cold fingers wrap around your face, pushing your cheeks together as he easily maneuvers you in his grasp. His eyes burn your skin as you realize:

He’s inspecting you.

With a pleased huff he releases your head, settling back across from you. That same smirk rests across his lips as he speaks. “Tell me, why did you come here, little lamb?”

The sound of your voice hits the air before you realize it’s yours. “I ran away.”

“Oh?” With a tilt of his head, his eyes crease. “Well then, I suppose you’ve found your new home. Welcome.”

Silently, he rises once more. This time, he extends a pale hand out to you. “I can show you to your room, if you’d like.”

At his words, the tendons within your body relax, more at ease. Finally under your own control, you raise a hesitant arm. Is this what you want?

Your palm rests lightly upon his.

He smiles.

“Good choice,” he whispers as you rise to your feet.

The temple’s grounds are beautiful, even in the dark. Flickering candlelight lines the stone paths as you walk through tended gardens, over wooden bridges and small streams. He guides you to a house near the back, tucked safely into the mountainside.

The paper slide shudders as it opens, revealing the outline of a bed covered in crisp white sheets.

“You can sleep here tonight. If there is anything you need, do not hesitate to call for me,” he informs you, each syllable floating through the night air.

With one swift motion he turns, returning down the path you came from.

“Wait!” you call - as the command settles, you sheepishly cross your hands. Dark hair falls over his shoulder as he turns to face you. “How…how will I find you?”

His eyes close as he laughs. “Oh, don’t worry. I’ll find you.” And with that, he disappears into the darkness.

–

The sun rises hesitantly here. It peeks its head through the translucent screens, barely illuminating your room enough to rouse you. When you finally wake, your thoughts swirl in confusion for a moment - where are you? what happened? - before you remember the previous night, the path beneath the watchful moon, the man who led you here.

Despite the unfamiliar environment, the warnings carved into your skin about the dangers of this place, you can’t bring yourself to feel afraid - after all, if he wanted to hurt you, he surely would have by now, right?

There’s an ache in your muscles as you stretch your arms overhead, bare feet resting upon the wooden floor, cool from the morning air. Idle hands begin searching the room as you open the hand-carved drawers, the scent of pine still lingering on them.

In the first, you find fresh sets of sheets. Below that, cleanly folded towels.

Moving to the next chest, your eyes widen as you scan its contents. Inside lie beautiful silks in every shade - your palms run over blues that mirror the sea, pinks the color of sunrise, greens brought from the forest floor. Each one feels more extravagant than the last, and as your awe clears, you suddenly feel ashamed to be holding them. They slip through your fingers as you shy away in embarrassment, your dirtied skin unworthy of touching them. They aren’t yours, after all - you’re nothing more than a guest here.

Turning to the closet nearby, you swing open the heavy doors, only to be met with even more luxury, this time robes hanging in neat rows.

You shouldn’t take them, but then again, the man did say anything you needed was yours…and you could use a new set of clothes after your travels last night…

Hesitantly, you pull one of the kimonos from the rack - in your hands, it catches the morning sun, small threads of gold reflecting across the room interwoven with the purple cloth. Sliding into it, you can’t help but notice the way it fits you perfectly, the length extending to just above your ankles, the sleeves resting gently along your wrists.

It feels foreign on your skin, surely you look like a fool, nothing more than a child trying on their parent’s work clothes. Glancing around the room, you search for a mirror to confirm your suspicions, but none seem to catch your eye. Oh well, you sigh, you’ll just have to face everyone looking like a stranger.

Stepping outside, a cool breeze brushes past your cheeks, your arms wrapping the robes tighter around your body as you fight off a shiver. It must be colder at this altitude, no longer afforded the protection of the very mountain you now reside on.

Small pebbles crunch beneath your feet as you make your way along the temple grounds. You try to retrace the path you took from the main house last night, but it quickly proves useless, your memory already foggy. Maybe it just looks different during the day?

Nevertheless, you don’t mind being lost here - the area is truly beautiful. Flowers fill the green spaces, ones you’d never seen before, shades of purple and red dotting the meadows. In the distance, tall trees poke against the horizon, leaves dancing in the wind.

As you wander, you pass identical buildings to the one you stayed in last night. Had you walked past all of these on your way there? Surely you would have remembered them, right?

This time, of course, the lights inside are off. There’s no use for them under the sun that’s now settling into the sky above. There are fewer clouds up here, you realize, perhaps another effect of the altitude.

By the time you find your way back to your new home (only able to identify it by the screen door left ajar), darkness has begun growing along the grounds, insects chirping their nighttime songs from nearby trees.

Sliding your shoes off, the smell of something tantalizing hits your senses.

You hadn’t even realized how hungry you were until you’re suddenly faced with the most delicious looking meal sitting upon the table. Steam rises from the bowl of salty broth, and for a moment you overlook the fact that someone must have been here to deliver it as you hurriedly shuffle to sit down, scooping noodles into your mouth with the chopsticks resting nearby. Finally, the ache in your stomach eases as you slurp the remaining liquid, allowing it to practically dribble down your chin.

A long shadow is suddenly cast along your room from behind you.

“I’m glad to see you’re enjoying dinner.”

Your spine shoots straight up as you turn, wiping your face with the back of a suddenly clammy palm.

“Y-yes,” you stutter, attempting to hide the utter lack of manners in how you had ravenously consumed the meal.

The man from last night stands in your doorway, leaning against the frame as he crosses his arms. That same smirk spreads across his features.

“Thank you!” you suddenly blurt, aware of your impoliteness. “It was…very good. Thank you.”

Another light chuckle dances across the air. “Please, no need for formalities. I’m simply glad you are enjoying the food. It’s been quite some time since I’ve had to make something for someone other than myself.”

Questions lie along the tip of your tongue, but before they can escape, he turns with a wave. “Well, I suppose I’ll see you tomorrow, then.”

“Wait!” You internally curse yourself again for the interruption, but one question in particular was burning its way through your throat. “I realized I never learned your name…”

“Oh,” he smiles through thin lips. “My name is Suguru, but most call me Master Geto. You can choose whatever name you like.”

Warmth floods your face at the title, and further at his informality. “O-okay.”

With another small flick of his wrist, he continues the path away from your room. “Anyways, goodnight,” he calls into the darkness ahead.

“Goodnight, Master Geto,” you murmur to yourself.

–

Your second day is all too similar.

You wake.

You dress.

You wander.

You eat.

This time, Master Geto does not stop by your room at all. You’re beginning to wonder what he does all day - hell, you’re beginning to wonder what anyone here does all day, not having seen a single other person.

All that free time leaves you to fester on your thoughts.

When you were a child, you heard the rumors of this place. At first, it was a sort of commune, a community where disillusioned and lost souls could go to find purpose. But when they stopped coming back, the stories twisted into more sinister adaptations. It was a religious group, who worshiped their leader as a false god. Then, it was a sex cult, who offered their bodies to him as a form of salvation. After that, it was a political power who strove to overtake all of society and enact his rules as law.

Time after time, story after story, it was always him at the forefront: some mysterious man who cornered and compelled his followers to obey.

And yet, you find yourself doubting it. How could he lead if he was never present? More than that, who could he lead if there were no loyal servants here to be led?

It didn’t add up.

The townsfolk were known for fear mongering - perhaps it was nothing more than a way to avoid losing any more citizens, to prevent them, too, from joining the strange man in the mountains.

But then again, you can’t quite shake the power you felt radiating from him when you were in that room, the way he so easily manipulated your body (and your thoughts) with nothing more than his words.

The thoughts string together in your mind as you pace the temple grounds during your walks, the only routine grounding you to the passage of time.

Today the sun struggles to shine through the clouds, a general greyness cast upon everything. It’s been almost two weeks, and you’ve barely seen him at all. Occasionally he’ll stop by your room, but only hover in the doorway, never entering. His voice always seems so calm when he speaks to you, offering simple observations about your meals, as though he was slowly investigating your preferences (not that he needed to - you were grateful simply to be fed - but he persisted nonetheless).

Tonight, you return to find the entrance to your room closed, the candlelight from inside casting a welcoming glow. As you slide the shoji open, a familiar scent fills the space. Your mouth waters as your feet carry you forward on instinct.

With the first bite from the bowl, you nearly moan in pleasure at the taste.

“Is it good?”

This time, you don’t jump at his silent approach. Glancing over your shoulder, you smile through a full mouth. “It’s incredible.”

“Good,” he laughs softly, “I’m glad. I was worried it wouldn’t be as good as you remembered.”

“Master Geto,” you swallow, “this is delicious.” Through another bite, your voice lowers, “It’s just like the oyakodon my parents used to make.”

“I know.”

The statement catches you momentarily off-guard, questions catching in your throat making you nearly choke.

He senses the change immediately as your shoulders close off, confusion building behind your eyes. “I apologize if I overstepped,” he begins, uncrossing his arms and allowing them to hang loosely by his sides in the slightly oversized robes, “I remembered that dish being popular in town, so I thought it might bring some comfort.”

“Oh,” you hum, tentatively chewing another bite. It’s a reasonable explanation, you suppose, even if it leaves more uncertainty swirling in your lungs.

After a moment of silence, his presence in your doorway begins to feel…awkward.

Normally by this point he’d have left with a wave, fading into the darkness outside. But not tonight. Tonight, he stays, swaying slightly within the entrance.

As your gaze covers him, the traditional robes remind you - perhaps you were being even more rude than you expected. You still knew very little about him, but maybe he abided by more traditional laws, one that forbade a man from entering a woman’s sleeping quarters without her permission.

(You always thought those rules were a bit silly, but now was not the time for debate - now was the time to learn more about the man lingering outside.)

“Would you like to come in?” You place the question into the air as you swallow the final piece of your dinner.

His grin threatens to tear across his cheeks as he nods politely. “Of course.”

As he approaches the table inside, his presence suddenly feels overwhelming. Even though he’s not physically much larger than you, something about him suffocates the space, his soul spreading out until there’s no room left. It’s stifling.

But when he sits across from you, it gets sucked back into himself. You can breathe again.

“How is the temple?” he asks easily.

“It’s beautiful,” you muse, “but…where is everyone?”

“Everyone?” He cocks his head to the side. “Oh! You mean the others. They aren’t particularly active during the day - you know how hot it gets here.”

In an instant, it feels right - the memories of the brisk mornings become hazy in your mind, replaced with the sun beaming overhead. Maybe you even returned to your room with sweat glistening along your skin after a particularly long walk.

Suguru notices the way your vision clouds over as the experiences rewrite themselves. If you were more present, perhaps you’d be able to decode the emotion flashing across his face as his nose scrunches and eyebrows furrow.

He stands suddenly, pulling you from your internal trance.

“Well, I suppose I should be going now,” he hums, gliding seamlessly to the doorway once again. “Goodnight.”

Before you can breathe a question, he’s gone, the rattling screen door the only proof of his existence.

–

You think you’re going insane here.

When you fled, you wanted to find something exciting, a new experience, an act of defiance. You wanted something to fill the emptiness in your soul and make you into something else, someone stronger, someone braver, someone more than the obedient little girl you left behind.

But now, with every repeated step through the temple grounds, you feel yourself collapsing inwards. The support beams inside you aren’t strong enough, cracking under the weight of loneliness.

Why wasn’t anyone here?

Why wasn’t anyone helping you?

Even Master Geto’s presence became desired, in spite of the slight unease that brewed within your stomach when he was around. It was like an addiction, as though he knew just how to feed you enough of him to keep you coming back, to keep you starving.

Ironic, isn’t it? That here, in a place with all your needs met, with delicious meals and extravagant clothes and plush beds, you find yourself destitute. Hunger pangs shoot up your chest as you eat alone, the robes begin stifling each breath, too hot even as the days grow colder. Every night you become increasingly acquainted with the wooden beams drawn above your bed.

You’re empty.

On your thirty-first night, after hours laying alone in the dark, you wonder if perhaps the moon would have any advice for you. She’s always watched over you, maybe she could guide you.

Outside, the gravel shifts beneath your feet. The candles are lit once again, lining the paths throughout the grounds. You’ve never seen anyone light them, and yet every night, their flames continue to burn (not that you need them, of course - you’ve grown accustomed to this place, steps tracing it like palm lines).

So you trust your legs when they carry you forward. Until you’re once again at the entrance of the main temple, the same warmth flickering from inside.

The door slides open easily, the hesitation that used to live in your muscles now replaced with tired indignation. You no longer have to wait for Master Geto’s command to enter (even though you want it, you want it so badly, to be told what to do and where to go and how to act and what to think until you’re nothing but his little puppet because then at least you could be something).

A part of you expected him to be in his chambers given the late hour. But a more possessive part hopes he’d be here, waiting for you.

Your lungs breathe a sigh of relief as you feel his gaze. He smiles as you stand in the doorway.

“What’s my little lamb doing up so late?” he coos, beckoning you inside.

Rubbing your eyes, you take your seat on the floor next to him. “Couldn’t sleep.”

It’s been some time since you’ve been here, you realize - perhaps since the first night you arrived - but it feels comfortable, the scent of smoke lingering in the air. And Master Geto is here, too - that surely helps.

“I see. Tell me, would you like me to make you some tea?”

Your head nods on its own, perhaps an effect of your recent insomnia.

Silently, he rises, moving easily through the room to collect his arsenal. Armed with a maroon teapot and a single cup, he returns to where you rest in the center of the room. Dark liquid pours into the mug before he places it in front of you.

The first sip burns your tongue slightly, but you avoid wincing - you wouldn’t want to seem ungrateful. You wouldn’t want to push him away.

Deep eyes watch your every move, drinking you in. That quiet discomfort is back, but you shove it down with a forceful swallow. After all, if you seem distrustful, it may make him unhappy, or worse, leave you. After so long without him, you’re content to sit under his blanket of silence.

“How are you enjoying your time here?”

Your throat catches for a moment. Should you tell him it’s killing you, eating you alive and breaking you down? Should you tell him how much you’ve missed him? No - surely he’d think you strange, you barely know each other despite the time you’ve spent here.

“It’s been…comfortable.”

He tilts his head through a thoughtful hum. He allows the quiet to choke you for a moment before he continues. “And yet, you’re here at this hour. Tell me, why?”

Your lips are moving on your own, fighting against your better interest. “I’ve missed you, Master Geto.”

“Oh?” He seems pleased with your response, letting out that tantalizing little chuckle. “What is it about me you’ve missed?”

This time, you’re able to stifle your voice before it betrays you. Through another sip, you let the words simmer on your tongue before he speaks again-

“Tell me.”

“I missed being told what to do,” you blurt, nearly spilling the tea that had been resting behind your lips.

Thin lips tug into a smirk as he eyes you, and you can’t help but feel you’ve answered correctly, even if it was against your will.

That fear bubbles inside your chest once again, but this time it’s tainted with something else, something hot. Something you would be tempted to call desire.

Adjusting his weight, muscled legs sprawl before him. “Come here, little lamb,” he purrs.

So easily he pulls your strings. In an instant you’re crawling towards him, until you’ve settled upon his lap, head resting on his shoulder. Perhaps a month ago you would have been scared at how easily he maneuvers you to his will, but after countless days left with only your own thoughts to drive you, it’s a welcome reprieve. A body is a heavy thing to carry alone; there’s no harm in letting someone else borrow it for a moment.

Slender fingers card through your hair, melting you beneath his touch. Until all that’s left is a fluid form in the outline of your flesh; it makes it all the more easy to shape that way.

“You must be tired, poor thing,” Suguru hums into the crown of your head.

“Mmm,” you hum in response, eyelids fluttering closed.

“Go on then, sleep.”

And your vision melts into his darkness.

–

When you wake, everything feels stiff. The room, your body, the blankets cocooned around you. Stale air sits in your lungs as you rise from the bed.

It takes a moment for your eyes to adjust to the darkness of the room, landing on wood floors and drawn shades. Everything is covered in a fine layer of dust except you, the only living thing here.

Nothing moves except for your breathing, no sounds besides the mattress creaking as you stand. Your thighs are tense, aching with each step forward. At least your robe is comfortable, even if it’s not the one you remember falling asleep in.

That memory itself feels fuzzy - how long had you been here?

But the slippers on your feet are warm, and you don’t feel that gnawing ache inside your stomach anymore. Maybe it doesn’t really matter.

Sliding the bedroom door open, you wander into the hallway. At the end, flickering candlelight casts a glow across the familiar carpet, the same as in the main building. Oranges and greens blur in your vision as you make your way to it, and your heart picks up its pace as you walk, drawing you in.

It lurches when you see him.

Master Geto.

“You’re finally awake, my little lamb.” His voice is smooth like silk, softer than the sheets that had cradled you as you slept. “Come in.”

The room is beautiful, dark reds and browns lining every surface, especially the bed he lays upon. The material is cool on your skin, flushed from sleep.

“You slept for quite a while,” he hums, beginning to slowly run his fingers over your hair. “Do you feel better?”

“Yes, thank you.”

“Why thank me?”

“I think…I think it was because of you.” The sentence trails up at the end, leaving it a question. One he does not decide to answer.

“Would you like some tea?”

“Yes, please. Thank you, Master Geto.”

His lips spread into a smile as he rises, silently moving to the teapot resting in the corner. With his back momentarily to you, it’s easier to remember all the questions you ought to ask - how long was I asleep for? where is everyone? why am I here?

But they’re too overwhelming, too big. You aren’t sure he’d answer them, anyways - you aren’t sure you’d want an answer. It’s easier to not ask.

“I’m not sure I should stay here anymore.”

His shoulders stiffen, just enough that the tea nearly spills over the edge of the cup. He sets it down on the table beside you.

“And why is that?”

“I just…” you trail off, holding the mug in your hands. It’s warm, making your palms itch. “I’m not sure there’s anything for me to do here.”

“You keep me company. Is that not enough?”

“It is, but I just…I guess I don’t feel like I’m doing a good job.” It’s easier to speak when you only have to face the steaming liquid held in your lap. “I feel lost without you. I don’t know what to do with my time. I mostly just wander around and hope I see you, or hope you give me something to do. I like that, but I’m not even doing anything. You’re never around during the day anyways, so then I end up festering with my thoughts and just feel worse. I’m losing my mind here.”

A slender finger traces up your neck, tilting your chin so you’re forced to look at him. His eyes hold a dark ice behind them, the kind that would slice open ships and kill sailors in the middle of the night, the kind the sea only makes when it’s craving blood.

“You have a purpose here, little lamb, you just can’t see it.”

You can’t hold his gaze, so you allow it to fall to the pink and red of his lips. “Then tell me what it is! I want to do something, please Master Geto.” Nails leave crescent-shaped marks in your skin as you grip the teacup.

“I can’t tell you, not yet.”

“Either tell me, or I’m leaving.”

You aren’t sure where the words came from, but they shock you as they land. Perhaps some deep part of your soul, some part the moon uncovered on your walk to the temple, growing brighter under her protection.

Fire, then ice flares behind him. He forces his shoulders back, cooling his tone. “Why don’t you drink some tea and calm down a bit, then we can talk about this?”

“I don’t want your tea! I want to know what’s going on!”

“I said, drink.”

The muscles in your arms tighten to bring the cup to your mouth. Liquid is forced past your lips through a choke. It burns your throat.

Once it’s empty, you drop it, the mug clanging against the floor. Tears prick the corners of your eyes in pain, and Master Geto seems tense. Lowering himself to the ground, he gingerly picks up the cup, allowing his palm to graze yours as he rises. Silently, he glides to the corner of the room where steam rises from the still-full teapot.

With everything in you, you force your mouth to move. “How do you do that?” Your voice is hoarse.

“Do what?”

“That,” you stumble, trying to explain. “Make me…do things.”

Six seconds pass before he answers.

“Do you know what obedience means?”

You nod.

“Tell me, what does it mean to you?”

“It means to do as another person says, always.”

Glancing at you from over his shoulder, his eyes crinkle at the corners. “Exactly.” He pours more liquid into your cup, a silent apology in his own misshapen way. “Some must be trained into obedience through leashes and chains, but others are born for it, their souls a softer shape, one that’s easier to mold.”

The mug is warm in your hands as your fingers wrap around the ceramic, accepting it from his grasp.

“Someone like you, for example, was made to obey. You feel it, don’t you? That emptiness when you aren’t being commanded?”

As you nod, something inside you aches, a hole where your autonomy should be. And here is Master Geto, so kindly offering to fill it.

“That makes it all the more effortless to follow someone, you see. I can sense it, the way your body practically begs me to control it.” He explains it easily with a wave of his hand, as though a few sentences could make you understand.

And yet, you do. It feels right to be led by him, molded by him, controlled by him. It’s the comfort you’ve felt, the warmth that clouds your thoughts whenever you’re near him.

“Is that…is that what I’m doing here?” A large hand reaches over to rub slow circles into your back through the robe - his robe, you now realize. “I’m here to follow orders and do whatever you say?”

“No, no, not at all.” A sound close to a laugh brushes through his throat at the thought. “You’re here for something else.”

You finish the second cup of tea - it’s easier to drink now that your throat has already been burned. “Please, tell me why. I promise not to leave, please, Master Geto.”

Dark eyes fall to the empty cup in your hands, then back to you. So powerless in his grasp, the smell of him lingering on your clothes, on your skin, on your breath. An impossible scent to lose, even if you were to run.

“Do you know what a vampire is?”

Confusion swirls in your mind at the question. “Yes? I’ve heard of them, of course. Creatures who live forever and drink blood to survive, right?”

“Exactly,” he smiles, voice smooth like the silk wrapping around your body. “There are other components too, of course. Other powers. The commands, for example. And you’ve heard of those coming back from my temple, yes? How they return with no recollection of their time here?”

“Yes.”

“They were ones who ran - who I allowed to run, of course. They didn’t please me, or they were too weak to keep my company. But as you can imagine, I couldn’t allow them to tell others of what they had seen here, regardless of how stupid some of them may have been. So, they may survive, but the memories must go. And that’s just a fraction of what I’m capable of.” His words rise and fall in pitch, the most visible sign of excitement you’ve ever seen in him, before it flattens again. “Many think vampires are dangerous, but they aren’t, not if they’re able to control themselves. It’s a matter of obedience, you see.”

“Obedience,” you whisper into the empty space.

“If one can stay in control of their desires, it’s barely any different than how a human lives.”

Your hands fiddle with the hem of the robe, teeth chewing on your lip. “Why are you telling me this, Master Geto?”

The finger on your chin trails up until his hand rests upon your cheek. When your eyes finally meet his, he smiles, a gesture you don’t return. Your heart beats loud, pulling you into him.

“You know why.”

And you feel it, in the depths of your stomach. The true weight of his horror, his power, settles like obsidian in your chest. A cough stifles from your mouth from the coal-black dust inside you.

His thumb runs over your lips, pressing down on the plump flesh. You should run, you should scream and beg for help and go back to your parents and pretend this never happened. You aren’t safe here, you shouldn’t stay a moment longer.

All your body can do is quicken your pulse, thrumming up your neck.

Your lips part. His thumb slides past them.

When he smiles, he seems pleased, and you feel warm like the tea spreading through your muscles with each breath. Flickering candlelight casts a shadow across his eyes, and they seem to glow with hunger.

“Are you scared?”

His skin tastes sweet as it settles on your tongue. You slowly shake your head, humming a soft, “No.”

A twitch of a smirk plays across his lips. He didn’t even have to compel you. They spread wider, allowing sharp, whitened fangs to poke through. Your eyes widen and pupils dilate as they dig into his lower lip, red blooming beneath the skin.

“You should be.” He’s leaning forward, until he’s so close you block the light from cascading across his face. In the shadows of your body, he looks monstrous, all flashes of black and white. “And yet, you stay. Tell me, why? What could you possibly hope to achieve?”

Air rushes through your lungs, and the words tumble out in a single breath. “I want to obey you, Master Geto.”

Tilting his head to the side, dark bangs obscure his eyes.

“Ah, I understand now. You really were made for this, weren’t you?”

Sliding his thumb from your mouth, he closes the distance between you. A long finger tilts your chin upwards, locking your gaze on him.

“You want to be good for me, don’t you?”

You nod. You can’t help it - you want to do anything he tells you; you will do anything he tells you.

“Good.” Pink lips brush against yours. His breath is cool as he whispers, “Then lay down.”

The sheets are chilled against your burning skin as your back rests upon them. It’s easier, now, the way you’ve accepted your muscles enacting his will. It feels right to let him pull your strings, letting him shape you into whatever pose he sees fit.

He doesn’t even need to command you to open your legs, large palms spreading your knees apart easily, allowing them to fall with the weight of his gravity. Your clothes are gone in an instant, laid bare before him, returned to your natural form before the god that granted it. It’s only natural.

Hot breath hits your core, cold eyes resting on your face. His thumb trails a path along your skin until it lands upon your clit, each slow circle another rotation around his orbit.

It’s almost too much, your body writhing under his touch, desperation making your hips rut uselessly into him. But he’s just…watching you.

“P-please,” you can’t help but whine, trying to grind into him for any additional ounce of friction. Master Geto simply continues his agonizingly slow pace.

Your gaze meets his for a moment, fire crackling beneath it as his lips tug into a sinister grin, a predator about to consume its prey.

Eat me, your body begs, I’m yours.

Oh, he knows.

His palm opens, sliding two fingers easily into your cunt. Just as he curls upwards, sharp teeth move from poking through his lip into the soft flesh of your inner thighs. For the violence crackling beneath his skin, he’s surprisingly gentle as his canines sink into you.

Because he doesn’t want it to hurt.

Not yet.

The prickling pain tingles your senses as he pulls your first orgasm from you, a faint moan humming in your throat.

When he rises from between your legs, red dribbles from his lips. He crackles with pride, completely unabashed; if anything, he’s proud.

Warmth blankets your body as he crawls on top of you, a wolf stalking a lamb. And you can’t bring yourself to run.

Muscled shoulders bare themselves under the flickering lights as he slowly sheds his robes, pale and morphing, too blurry to focus on. If you were more naive, you’d be tempted to call him an angel.

“You taste so sweet,” he purrs, his face now mere centimeters from yours.

When he kisses you, a mix of metal and cum tangles on your tongues, intoxicatingly you. Every ounce of his weight rests against you until you can’t pull in a breath anymore, your ribs unable to expand below him.

But like always, he grants you mercy.

He pulls back, just enough to let air rush in through your parted lips. Your skin burns where he places a gentle peck to the corner of your mouth.

Because now, you want it to hurt.

And oh, he knows.

That devilish smile curls upon his lips, no longer hiding the fangs behind it. Every beat of your heart makes you dizzy, your vision pulsing with each reverberating thrum. You wonder if he can feel it in your chest.

(He can.)

(He wants to claw it from your body and eat it.)

The remnants of blood lingering on his teeth are wiped away as his tongue swipes over them, an innocent white left in its wake. How perfect a sinner’s body can be.

He’s shifting his weight above you, but you barely notice, too enamored by him, too lost in his eyes, in his depravity. The moment your eyes flutter shut to protect your soul, he’s reaching out to you.

“Look at me, little lamb.”

And then, your gaze is locked on him.

And then, his cock is pressing into you.

Lips part, fire shoots up your spine, a cry dies in your throat. It’s burning and tearing and it’s death and everything is too hot and you’re staring into those eyes with flames behind them and you think you’d let him kill you if he asked.

Not that he needs to ask, of course.

Your back arches off the bed as your eyes nearly roll back into your head but they can’t - because it’s not what Master Geto commanded. Because you always do as he says.

Because you always obey.

Instead, tears prick at the corners and your entire body trembles and he’s staring down at you with pity.

“There, shh, that’s my girl,” he coos. He wipes away a tear with his thumb but he doesn’t stop, not until his pelvis is flush with yours and all you can feel is him inside you.

Ragged breaths rack your core, your walls clenching around him from his size alone.

“You’re being so obedient, so good,” he whispers into the shell of your ear. And the sun bursts through your chest.

A slack-jawed smile spreads across your features at his praise, cheeks warm and full of pride. You’ve done everything you were made for - you’ve made Master Geto happy. You’ve been good.

When he drags his hips from you, his tip catching and pulling and gouging any remaining shred of disloyalty from your consciousness, you know you’re his: your mind, your soul, your body. All his, in any way he wants it.

When he thrusts back into you, the emptiness inside you is filled with him.

Him.

Him. Him. Him. Him.

Master Geto.

All you have ever needed.

All you will ever need.

Master Geto.

Warmth blossoms in your chest as he fucks you into the silk sheets. You are his. You were always made to be his. There’s no pain in it, no uncertainty. It’s as things were always meant to be.

But there’s still something missing, something lingering in the droplet of red beading at the corner of his lips.

Eat me, your body pleads, I’m yours.

“Master Geto,” you whimper, “I…I want…”

As he gazes down at you, there’s a reverence behind it - not to you, no, but to your servitude.

“Yes, my little lamb,” he breathes through the sound of skin against skin. “Tell me what you want.”

“Bite me, Master Geto,” you cry, “please.”

And you feel him laugh, his breath hot against the skin of your neck. “Well, how could I deny my most devoted?”

First, it’s the searing pain of his fangs sinking into your skin. An instant later, it’s the burning pleasure of it.

A moan bubbles from your throat, allowing your head to fall back into his waiting palm, cradling you above the respite of feathered pillows. Because for now, he will hold you; you should be held by him.

Suguru is greedy as he drinks.

Grunts and groans echo from his chest, his body never stilling as he plunges in and out of you in pace with his tongue lapping at your pierced flesh. Just as his teeth pull away he strikes them into you again, and again, and again. Puncture wounds grow across your skin, blooming hues of maroon beneath them, stars decorating the sky, each one a burning supernova moments away from exploding.

They mark you for what you are: his.

“You taste,” he pants, “fucking devine.”

Nails claw at his back, your head lolled back into the sheets, limp beneath him. Of course, you’d move if he told you to - you’d die if he told you to.

Each racing heartbeat makes your vision pulse, head swimming as he drinks from you. Your body melts inside him, warm in his stomach.

The friction of his hips between your legs only grows, until it’s burning like the teeth in your neck. Red flames prick your skin, Suguru’s tongue chasing each one to put it out.

His grunts grow animalistic, a beast pulling muscles and tendons until it’s out of breath. Shoulders tense beneath your palms, and your stomach begins to tighten.

“Master Geto, I-”

“I know,” he growls into your neck. Arms tighten around your body, until they cage in your ribs, until you can’t breathe anything but him. “Cum for me, little lamb.”

Warmth floods your senses, numb save for his cock twitching. He bites down harder as his claim shoots into you, thick and hot.

For a moment, you wonder if he tore flesh from bone. When he removes his head from your collarbone, blood dripping down his chin in thick rivulets, it seems all the more possible.

Licking his lips, he groans at the sanguine flavor pouring down his throat, sweet like honey. When he kisses you, his tongue presses against yours until it lingers in the back of your mouth. Sweet like him.

Low eyes meet yours, a thumb stroking your cheek.

“Stay here, with me.”

And maybe, you will.

It’s easier like this, to be his.

It’s easier to obey.

550 notes · View notes

wandasaura · 17 days ago

Text

DRESS

summary — when the dress you wear to wanda’s halloween party catches the eye of a few too many people, natasha’s left with no other choice than to punish you

warning(s) — light elements of dom/sub dynamics, nipple torture/stimulation, thigh grinding, clothed sex, tit slapping, dirty talk, begging, pussy slap, orgasm denial, men/minors dni

kinktober

In retrospect, you definitely shouldn’t have worn your tightest, shortest, skimpiest black dress to Wanda’s dinner party when you know she loves to check you out without regard for whose around, but the soft satin had called your name the second your eyes had fallen on it hanging so tantalizingly in your shared closet with Natasha. It had been an impulsive, very expensive purchase for your three year anniversary, and truthfully, it hadn’t seen many nights out since. Probably because Natasha couldn’t keep her hands off of you when it hugged your body just right, and her friends couldn’t keep their eyes off of your chest, especially not when you dressed the swell of your breasts in the finest gold body glitter, your neck decorated with a dainty gold chain that practically begged for attention.

It was her annual halloween dinner party, one filled with festive cocktails made by Agatha, some of them involving rubber spiders that gave you the chills just thinking about, and dry ice flowing out of bowls of questionably green liquor. Wanda threw an amazing party, especially when she had a theme to stick with, but this year, your fourth year going as Natasha’s date, you had more or less signed up to be the main attraction without realizing. Natasha had realized. She’d known what kind of attention you were in for the second you met her at the bottom of the stairs, your hair curled and brushed out over your shoulders, your dark eyeliner sleek and captivating almost as much as your bold red lip, but you had been ignorantly unaware of how when you bent over, your ass hung out of the bottom of your dress, or how your nipples pebbled against the satin material and allowed an easily made visual of your perky breasts for anyone to fantasize. There wasn’t any time for you to change, not that she would ever ask that of you, but as the night drew on longer, her jealousy rivaled the color of the punch; green and passionately dominant.

A soft mewl fell off of your lips as her fingers pinched and prodded at your nipples through the thin material of your dress, her front flush against yours, her hands pinned between your warm bodies that had slipped into your apartment ever so drunkenly. You’d both had your fair share of cocktails, never able to resist Agatha’s creations, they were truly something magical, but as your sobriety diminished, replaced by intoxicated careless energy, the hem of your dress wrinkled higher and higher up your thighs until Wanda had been the one to pull it down, right in sight of Natasha who bristled with anger.

Her delicate black suit was a wrinkled masterpiece beneath your desperate fingers, lapels gripped between your painted black nails as your hips ground down on the slack covered thigh she so meticulously placed between your trembling legs, flush against your core that was covered by only a thin strip of sodden lace. Breathless moans fell into the air as you chased your pleasure, head thrown back against the bedroom door she’d pinned you to impatiently. Your bed lay unmade a few feet away, but Natasha had no interest in laying you down and spreading you out. So much of your body had been seen already, so much teasing had already been done, she’d had enough of it, it was her turn to return the favor.

Her skin was littered with the shade of your lipstick, a collage of your affection and arousal painted across her skin in sloppy kiss marks, her neck bearing the majority of the evidence. A sharp whine shattered your composure when she flexed her thigh just right, angled so perfectly against your core that your clit had been the thing that felt her muscle tense just right. Her fingers worked at your nipples, never slipping beneath the satin material that was slowly falling down your shoulders and revealing more of your breasts that glimmered beneath the eerie moonlight of October.

“Do you know what you do to me?” She growled against the shell of your ear, your sensitive lobe pinched between her teeth as she husked against you possessively. Rarely did you give her a reason to be so possessive, wrapped around her finger near embarrassingly so, yet whenever Wanda was around, somehow it was unavoidable. “Wearing this dress, those heels. God, I wanted to take you over the island so bad. They were all looking at you anyways; at these tits, that ass– I should've given them a show, made it worth all the stares. Should’ve let them hear the way you whine when I play with your pretty nipples, when that desperate cunt gets some attention. Would you like that, baby? Showing them just how much I own this perfect body?” The pinching and twisting had turned to full on groping, her palms creating friction against your pebbled buds as she squeezed your breasts with both hands, uncaring for how cruel her touch was, nor how desperate you were for more.

“Y-Yes!” Your desperate moans and pleading whimpers had only grown louder, reverberating off the walls dressed in pictures of both you and Natasha during various stages of your relationship, driving her own desperation higher, pulling her beneath your alluring hex. “God please, please don’t stop! Nat!” You moaned softly, your eyes pinched shut as you allowed your head to fall forward, uncaring for how your lips marked her suit with dark patches of red, just needing her close as you felt the tension of pleasure building so steadily in your belly it was bound to break soon.

“I won’t baby. Not yet. Not until I’m done with you. Not until I’ve reminded this pretty body of who it belongs to.” There had been no warning for the distance that came between your chests in the seconds that followed her admission of possession, but it made sense when her palm collided with the satin covering your sensitive breasts, the padded slap ringing through the room almost as blindingly as the sensation of pleasurable pain that sparked through your belly. You gasped, your breath catching in your throat as you rocked harder against her thigh, desperate for her to take you to bed, to undress you hungrily and uncover the lingerie that that dug into your hip bones and marked their claim; her claim. You’d bought for her, thought of her when you slipped it on. They were an extension of her ownership and nothing less, and desperately you wanted to feel her beneath it.

“Off. Please. Take my dress off. Touch me. Please.” You begged so sweetly she almost wanted to give in, but she had to punish you, there was a lesson to be learned, and she had you so pliant beneath her hands there was no greater time than now.

“Oh no, baby. You wanted to wear this dress. You let everybody see how good you look in it. I’m gonna make you feel so good, so so good, but we’re not taking it off. It stays on until I’m done.” She husked against the shell of your ear, her teeth tugging at your earlobe as she rocked her thigh against you, adding friction that had stars being painted across your vision. A delicate whimper fell into the air, soft and impatient as you ground down against her, desperate for more, but already so impossibly close. Another slap came to your other breast, the same stinging pleasurable sensation, and that was it. That was what you needed. Suddenly, it didn’t matter that she hadn’t even really touched you at all, that your panties stuck grossly to your folds that were sodden with sticky ropes of tantalizing arousal. She’d pushed you to your end, tightened that blissful coil impossibly so.

“Oh! Oh! I’m cumming! I’m gonna cum! I–” It was gone. Her warmth, her delicious touch on your nipples, her thigh between your leg pressed flush against your core. It was gone, but that coil wasn’t, and desperately your hips moved to an uneven rhythm against the cold air, searching for friction that wasn’t there. “No! No, I– I was so close! Nat, I was so close!” The words fell off of your tongue in pathetic sobs of dismay and defeat, your body threatening to grumble as that addictive sensation ebbed away, leaving only a dull pulsing in your clit and emptiness in your pulsating hole. You could feel the effects of the denial, the disappointment and dissatisfaction, but everything white hot and pleasurable was gone, leaving only the distaste of nothingless left for you to grasp. “Please.” You hated this sensation each time she brought it forward, and she knew that.

“Oh no baby, you don’t get to cum tonight. Maybe tomorrow. But tonight, you’re just going to have to try and ignore how that feels. I bet its so achey, sweet girl. I bet its just dull enough that if you think about something else, you won’t feel it at all, but you’re such a desperate girl, so eager for me, you can’t think about anything else. Can you? Can you think about anything else baby, or is that needy cunt doing all the thinking for you?” As if to accentuate her point, her hand slipped beneath your dress for the first time that night, cupping your cunt, grinding her fingers against your clit, probing at your entrance until you were nearly weeping for her again. It wasn’t gone so easily this time, because when she went to pull away, when you thought you were losing everything for the second time, her palm slapped against your core, the sound wet and harsh against the silence of your bedroom. A weak moan fell off your lips, your hips, with a mind of their own, attempting to grind down on her fingers, addicted to the sharp sparks of pain she caused, but she was gone again, and again you were left with only a beating in your sensitive clit that wouldn’t be taken care of. “Maybe tomorrow.” Is all that she left you with before she disappeared into the closet, the sound of her pants hitting the floor indicative of what she was doing; going to bed. You were needy, and desperate for pleasure, and she was just going to bed.

Not wanting to argue, not wanting to draw this out for longer than necessary, you followed her motions, slipping off the dress, and then the lingerie that you had hoped she’d be the one to take off, and crawling into bed with only the thought of ‘maybe tomorrow’ on your mind.

#natasha romanoff #natasha romanoff x reader #dom!natasha romanoff x reader #natasha romanoff smut #natasha romanoff fic #[ kinktober ] — ⟡#minors dni ৎ୭

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pearlessance · 14 days ago

Text

A Dance In The Dark

Joel Miller x f!Reader

Summary: Joel has always taken care of you. Always been your kind, attentive protector. And that doesn’t change, even when you read a scene from a dark romance novel and discover your tastes may be a bit more sordid than you once thought. But even in this he wants to grant you your every wish—and when he offers to put on a mask and chase you through the woods, the opportunity is just too wicked to pass up.

Warnings: Explicit sexual content MDNI, feelings of embarrassment and shame, established relationship, Joel ties readers hands with his belt, knife play, BDSM undertones (primal play specifically), sexual aggression, degradation, fingering, p in v, hair pulling, shameless smut this is basically just pure filth

NOTE: this is a cowrite i did with joelmillersgirlfriend! we busted this out in less than two days because i was bound and determined to get this published on the best holiday of the year! please check out her stuff over on AO3 where we have several other cowrites because i love her 🩷

happy halloween my loves 🩷

Read on AO3!

MASTERLIST

You don’t tell him right away. Don’t tell him at all, really.

Joel discovers your peculiar fascination all on his own.

He’s late coming home from work. His dinner sits on a plate in the microwave, leftovers packaged and put in the fridge for his lunch tomorrow. His lack of punctuality is nothing new, but you’ve always been good at filling the time and finding a distraction while you wait for him.

On this particular night, you’ve changed out of your clothes and into one of his T-shirts, nestled into a soft cocoon on his side of the bed, book in hand. The tea in your mug on your nightstand has gone tepid, too lost between the pages to consume anything but the content in a timely manner.

You’d found it in the horror section, a book written by a name you’d never heard of, a story of a young woman’s abduction with overarching themes of perseverance and self-discovery. You find it a bit graphic from time to time, the details of her torment vivid and lifelike. But that’s to be expected in a horror novel and doesn’t surprise you.

The part that does surprise you, however, is the romantic undercurrent between the woman and her captor. He makes declarations of love, fully admitting his obsession with the young woman, claiming to want nothing from her but her own empowerment.

It’s an even bigger surprise when you reach the halfway point and discover that your horror novel is also an erotica. And the text is well-written, pulling you into its depths, and you think it might be the craziest yet best book you’ve ever read if for nothing else than the way it makes your heart race behind your ribcage.

“Is it that good?”

His voice startles you so badly the book falls from your hands and into your lap. “What?”

Joel laughs, a soft sound of amusement. “I’ll take that as a yes,” he says, toeing off his shoes. He leans over the edge of the bed to press his lips to your forehead, and you find yourself swimming in the subtle affection.

And you know it’s because you’ve been reading smut for the last three hours straight, but the feel of his lips against your skin is heavenly. You abandon the book, tucking the edge of the dust jacket inside the pages to mark your place and discarding it onto the nightstand. It’s second nature as you twist your hands into the soft fabric of his flannel and pull him close.

He smells like pine and sawdust and sweat. His hands are rough and calloused as he cradles your face, lips turning upwards against yours. When you deepen the kiss, sliding your soft tongue against his, Joel laughs again, a little darker this time. He pulls away and the loss makes you whimper because you need him. And the bastard knows it. Because when his gaze roams over your face, lingering on your lips, there’s a heavy undertone of lust behind the playfulness. “S’alright, sweet girl,” he says gently. “None of that whinin’. M’gonna take care of you like I always do. Just wanna know what’s brought this on is all.”

You’re not sure you can admit the truth to him. And even more than that, you don’t have the words to explain that what’s got you so worked up is a scene in your book where the main character is being chased through the woods, her captor wearing a Halloween mask, under the pretense that if he catches her, he’s going to fuck her. Your cheeks warm at just the idea of such an admission, so instead you say, “I just missed you is all.”

Joel doesn’t believe it for a second. He knows you like the back of his hand and sees easily through the lie. And when he glances at your book on the nightstand twice, you know you’ve been caught before he even says a word. “Thought that was one of those scary books you like.”

“It is,” you tell him. Because, technically, it’s the truth.

He narrows his eyes at you, that all-knowing smirk still plastered on his face. “Yeah? Bein’ scared’s what’s got you all squirmy like this?”

As much as you’d like to deny it, to argue his assessment, Joel leans over a little further and his weight on top of you, heavy and sure and safe, makes your breath catch in your lungs. Warmth pools low in your belly and that low, husky tone in his voice only makes matters worse.

“Think whatever’s in that book’s got you all worked up. What’s it about, baby? Hm?” Joel shoves the blanket out of the way and slides his hand between your body and his. You don’t think you’ll ever get used to the feeling of his hands on you, the contrast of his roughness against all your softest parts. It’s like the first time every time, and you can feel the steady thump of your heart as it hammers behind your sternum.

Heat rises up your chest when his hand touches your favorite spot, already knowing what he’s going to say. You’re drenched, the insides of your thighs slick with excitement. Joel breathes out a tell-tale hiss at the feeling, pulling back to glance down at you. Humor is suddenly nowhere to be found on his face, no smirks or teasing words. Just dark, hot lust, turning Joel’s eyes black.

“Christ,” Joel groans, continuing to explore between your legs.

You don’t want to tell him what the book’s about, and thankfully he seems to forget he’d asked the question as his long fingers find their place, curling inside of you.

Joel keeps his promise. He takes care of the ache for you like he always does. He makes you finish on his fingers and his tongue and when he finally sinks deep inside you it feels like relief. You warm up leftovers for him afterward, and he doesn’t pressure you about talking about your book. Instead, he tells you about his day while the two of you sit at the kitchen table and the light of his love fills you from the inside out.

You finish the book in less than two days, but its content lives in your head for far longer.

Showering, cooking, running errands - you find yourself thinking about that scene in the woods so often you begin to wonder if it’s altered your brain chemistry.

That weekend you go out for drinks with a couple of girlfriends, letting Joel know you’ll likely be late coming home. He makes you promise to call him if you need a ride and says he’s going to invite Tommy over to watch the game.

It’s nothing out of the ordinary. Joel’s little brother practically lived with the two of you until Maria stepped into the picture, and you pinky swear to call if you need him.

You don’t, though. You spend more time gossiping and laughing and catching up than you do drinking. But it’s dark when you pull into the driveway, and though you don’t see Tommy’s truck you assume Joel might have picked him up and you fully expect to see him standing in your kitchen with a hand in the fridge grabbing another beer.

Tommy’s nowhere to be found, though. And there’s no referee calling shots on the flat screen. There’s no sound at all, in fact. At first, it alarms you. But then you see Joel sprawled out on the couch in sweatpants and a navy blue t-shirt with a book in his hand.

He glances up from the pages only long enough to smile up at you and say, “Hey, sweetheart. Have a good time?”

You hesitate, watching him from where you stand at the doorway. Joel read occasionally, but only if he needed to. If he wanted to learn a new song on guitar, if he had taken on a new car project and had to teach himself how to repair it. He didn’t read for luxury.

“Yeah, it was nice. What about you? Where’s Tommy?” you questioned, tiptoeing over to where Joel was spread out. The book was positioned in a way that didn’t allow you to see its cover, but it most definitely wasn’t one of Joel’s manuals.

Joel turned to grin at you, his eyes scanning your body, stopping to look at the frown on your lips.

“He canceled, ditched me to hang out with Maria,” he huffed, rolling his eyes. Your frown deepened as you moved closer to Joel, still eyeing the book in his hand that was conveniently covered by his large palms.

“Why didn’t you tell me? I would’ve come back sooner,” you said, reaching down to run your palm through his gray-streaked hair. You had convinced him to stop touching up his roots, some sick part of you loving how mature he looked.

“I didn’t wanna interrupt. ‘Sides, I wanted to see what got you all worked up the other night,” Joel explained casually, finally exposing the book he was holding. All of the colors left your face as you processed what was happening, that he was more than halfway done with the story. Joel was well into reading the disturbing erotica, but somehow still hadn’t put it down.

“This is some dark stuff. You’re telling me that this is what had you drippin’? Had you clenched around me, legs shaking?” Joel asked, breaking heavy eye contact with you to go back to reading.

“Come on, Joel. Give it back,” you whined, reaching down to pull it out of his hands. The word embarrassed didn’t cover how you truly felt. Mortified was a better fit.

He wrestled around in your hold, turning his back to you and shielding the book with his body. “Not yet, I’m just about to reach the good part. I wanna know what happens when he catches her.”

Maybe not mortified. You were fucking humiliated. Tears threatened to spill as you reached down, pawing at Joel’s arms to grab the book. “Stop it. It’s just a stupid fantasy, I know it’s dumb.”

Joel glanced back to see the wetness filling your eyes, instantly releasing his grip so you could take the book back. His large palm reached up to cradle your face, to comfort you.

“Hey now, I never said it was dumb. I didn’t mean to upset you. I guess I never really knew you were into that kind of stuff. Nothing’s wrong with it.”

His words are sincere and make you feel a little bit better, but you still feel ashamed that Joel had read the book. You know he’d never judge you, but it feels like your closest kept secret has been thrust into the light without your permission. Warmth spreads over your face, down your neck, twisting your stomach into knots. “I know but I…I just didn’t expect you to read it.”

“Then I won’t,” he says quickly, pushing himself up off the couch. He places a warm hand on the side of your neck and says again, “I won’t. I promise. No tears baby, alright?”

You nod and sniffle, trusting him, knowing that his words hold sincerity. Exhaling a long breath, you try to shove the mortification away and focus instead on this man before you who loves you enough to learn everything about you, even the things best kept hidden.

Joel gives you the book and you shove it in the back of your side of the closet, hidden beneath a shoe box. He helps you out of your dress and showers with you, washing your hair while you tell him all about girls’ night and the newest gossip.

After, when you’re both cozy in bed, wrapped up tight in his strong arms, stealing his warmth with your cold feet against his legs, you think maybe you might’ve overreacted about the book. You know Joel would never judge you, not even about this. You think maybe the embarrassment comes from somewhere within, that maybe it’s more like insecurity than shame. And so you say, “I’m sorry about earlier. You can finish the story if you want.”

Joel presses a kiss into your hair. “Not really my type of book, anyhow.”

Even though he says it mostly to comfort you, the words make you laugh. You bury your face into the crook of his neck and can feel the vibration of his amusement as he shares the moment with you.

And when you both settle enough to speak again, his voice is a little quieter as he asks, “You want me to do that to you?”

This time you fight your shame. Wrap it up tight and store it away for something else, something more worthy than a peculiar taste. You think about yourself in place of the main character, running between thick tree trunks with dead leaves crunching beneath your feet.

You think of Joel in place of the woman’s captor, mask over his face, presence dark and looming as he seeks you out. A shiver runs down your spine, so sharp and demanding that your body trembles in his hold.

“S’okay if you do,” he murmurs. You can feel each word through his chest, a delicious tremor against your suddenly too-hot skin. Joel lifts his hand and brushes your hair gently away from your face, thumb tracing the outline of your lips. “Know it did somethin’ to you. Turned you real greedy the other day. Hm?”

Arousal pools low in your belly, and you can hear your heart in your ears. You think he could convince you to do anything when he talks like that, voice low and gravelly. “Maybe,” you say. “I don’t know.”

“Read another part,” he whispers. His thumb travels slowly down your chin, over the curve of your jaw, down the column of your throat. “He’s got that switchblade in his hand. Touches her real nice, all sweet and loving. But he keeps that blade right…” Joel drags his index finger slowly across your neck. “ Here .”

The sound that escapes you is more than need, it’s something else entirely; more like desperation. You didn’t think it was possible to want him any more than you already do but this Joel who strikes just the right amount of fear in you? He makes your mouth water, makes you tremble and shake with just the caress of a single touch.

He grips the back of your thigh with his free hand, pulling you close, pressing you tight against the growing erection behind the cotton fabric of his boxers. Joel’s always been insatiable for you, sometimes getting worked up just from staring at you too long. But you begin to wonder if this is something he wants, too. “Should take you out someplace real nice,” he mutters. “Get all dressed up. You can wear that pretty pink sundress I like. Take you out to a nice dinner, treat you so fuckin’ good…an’ when the sun sets, I’d drive you someplace real dark. Let you loose.”

Even though he’s barely touching you, thumb stroking the skin of your hip gently, your clit pulses between your legs, hips shifting against him of their own accord. Your breath comes fast and labored and you think you’ve never been this fucking wet before—never wanted him so bad . It feels like you can’t think, can’t breathe without it, without Joel .

“Give you a head start,” he continues. “Long enough for me to put a mask on. Wouldn’t even let you see it ‘til I catch you…An’ I will catch you, sweet girl…but you’d have no way of knowin’ who it was. Could be me. Could be anyone.”

The idea is filthy and disgusting but your body doesn’t seem to mind. Your spine arches, breasts pressing up against his chest. Joel lays there stone still, holding you, letting you rut against him like a woman starved. “ Please ,” is all you manage to choke out. He hardly acknowledges the word, but you can feel the smirk form on his lips against the shell of your ear.

“I’d fuck the good girl right out of you,” he says. “Fuck you ‘til you’re nothin’ but a dumb little slut.”

“Jesus— Joel .” He's degraded you before, but it’s never been like this, never felt like this. You reach between your bodies and palm his cock in your hand, and a dark laugh leaves him as he helps you.

In a few quick movements, he pulls himself out of his boxers, shoves your panties to the side, and sinks his cock inside of you, filling you so full it hurts . But you don’t care, because there’s nothing more you need than this, and thankfully he understands. Like he always does .

Joel fucks you right then and there, whispering filthy things all the while, and you think he’s always understood you. Maybe even more than you’re able to understand yourself. Older and wiser and gracious—always giving you exactly what you need, exactly what you want.

Before you fall asleep that night, he kisses you softly and asks, “Do you want me to tell you before it happens? To warn you?”

You’re not sure how to answer at first. Because the concept as a whole terrifies you; it’s new and foreign and dangerous. And you think you might need the warning to calm yourself enough to enjoy it.

But you trust Joel. More than anyone else in the world, you know he’ll always keep you safe. You know he’d never do anything to hurt you.

And so, you pull the blankets tighter around your shoulders and say, “No. I want it to be a surprise.”

That night, you dream about a man chasing you through darkness whose hands feel more familiar than your own. You think about it for the next week. Daydreaming at work, while you’re making dinner, while you’re driving to run errands. It’s all you can think about, the only thing that fills the gaps of silence in your day-to-day life.

You wait. And wait. And wait .

Joel tells you Friday night that he’ll have to work overtime this weekend to make up for a lost part shipment. Nothing new, nothing out of the ordinary. Saturday morning he encourages you to sleep in, kisses your forehead before he leaves, tells you he loves you. And despite no inclination from him, you have a feeling that today is the day.

When you wake up a little while later, the sun casts shadows through the blinds, and you notice that Joel’s placed that pink sundress on his side of the bed. Laid it out for you.

You shower and groom yourself, mentally preparing for the moment it finally happens. It has to be today. And if Joel is lucky and planned it out right, he’d find out that you opted out of wearing panties underneath the sundress. He’d find you slick, shaved, aching in anticipation.

He notices your nervous excitement when he comes home from work, late and covered in sweat from a long day. You’re practically bouncing on your heels, having spent the entire day filling the time, waiting for his arrival. The sun had already started to set in the distance - you probably only had about an hour left of the day.

Please, God, let it be today .

“Sorry I’m late, sweetheart. Had an electrician cancel last minute, left me scramblin’ to get the project covered. I didn’t mean to keep you waiting,” he muttered into your lips as he greeted you. His arms wrapped around you, his body warm and hot against the thin fabric of your dress.

“That’s okay,” you say. “Everything go to plan other than that?”

“Sure did. Finally finished up that warehouse over on Cherry Street. Figured I’d go out and celebrate.”

You find yourself deflating at the words. Because, usually, Joel celebrating the end of a big project means the involvement of Tommy, too. And if Tommy’s there, then tonight is decidedly not the night.

Joel seems to notice the change in your demeanor. He places his hand on the side of your face and drags his thumb down your jutting bottom lip, releasing it with a wet pop . “Wouldn’t be a celebration unless I had a pretty little girl to buy a drink, now would it?”

Either way, even if it’s not tonight, you know you’ll enjoy the time with him like you always do. So you shelve your disappointment and timidly ask, “Will it be…just the two of us? Did you want to invite anyone else?”

He shakes his head, a playful spark glinting in his warm eyes. “Nah. Just wanna take my baby out. Give me a minute to change and we’ll head out. Sound good?”

You know your nod of approval probably looks too hopeful, too excited, but you can’t find it in yourself to care. Not with this golden excitement fills you to the brim, the anticipation making your hands tingle.

It only takes Joel ten minutes to change out of his work clothes and into a nice pair of jeans and a flannel, but it feels like forever. He asks you about your day while he drives to your favorite restaurant, and listens intently even though you have nothing interesting to say other than the fact that you’ve changed the curtain on the window above the dining room table.

He opens the car door for you and holds your hand as he directs you through the crowd at the restaurant, and orders for you when the waiter comes over. Even though you get the same thing every time, the gesture makes you feel small and safe and cared for.

You drink a glass of wine, and he tries out some sort of hoppy beer. Joel tells you about a song he heard on the radio that he wants to learn on guitar, but while you try to listen all you can think about is what comes after this.

A million thoughts run rampant through your head. He hasn’t said anything about it, hasn’t given you any hints besides laying the sundress out for you, but the rush of it all weighs heavy on your chest. Paired with the lowered inhibitions from the wine and you interrupt him to say, “Joel. Can you just…can you tell me? I changed my mind. I want to know so bad.”

That playfulness returns to his eyes. He tilts his head the smallest bit and leans over the table to hear your whispered words. “Tell you what?”

“You know ,” you insist. “Don’t make me say it here.” Despite the embarrassment that climbs your cheeks as you listen to the chatter around you, you can’t wipe the grin from your face. You try to hide it behind your hand instead.

“Can’t say I know what you’re gettin’ at here, girl,” he says. But that knowing smirk says otherwise. You can see the challenge in his eyes, the push for you to ask the question you’ve been swallowing down all night.

Folding your arms on the edge of the table, you lean in as close as you can and ask so softly, “Are you taking me to the woods tonight?”

He smiles—a big, toothy show of enjoyment, and leans back in the booth. Joel’s big, you’ve always known it…but seeing him now, shoulders broad and rugged, arms straining beneath the cotton sleeves of his flannel… God , he makes you weak. You can feel yourself flush beneath his scrutinization. Can feel the familiar stickiness of your arousal begin to gather between your legs, too. “An’ why would I do that, sweetheart? Ain’t nothin’ out there for a little thing like you.”

The wine is sweet on your tongue as you take the last sip and shrug casually, pretending as if your hands don’t tremble with anticipation. You try to put on a show of confidence. “Never know,” you say. “Could be a big, bad wolf out there that needs hunting down.”

Joel laughs at that, but he’s waving down the next waiter he sees for the check.

When you leave the restaurant, you realize now the sun has fully set and the darkness has descended. The moon hands high in the sky, the only illumination granted apart from the headlight of Joel’s truck. He helps you into the passenger side and buckles you in, hands gentle and caring, always taking care of you.

Pressing a kiss to your shoulder, he asks a single-word question. One you know is likely equally for his comfort as it is yours. “Okay?”

You are. Despite the fear that begins to rise in your chest, knowing the impending events likely to unfold, despite the shadows and the traversing of the unknown, you know that you’ll always be safe with Joel. “I’m good,” you promise.

He drives for far longer than you expect. Past every stoplight, outside of the city limits, weaving through the backroads until you’re well and truly lost. Every time you pass a wooded area you think he’ll slow to a stop, but he doesn’t. And every moment fuels the adrenaline coursing through you, ratcheting both your panic and excitement to immeasurable heights.

When he does finally stop, pulling off to the side of a road you swear you’ve never been down before, your heart is beating so fast you can hear it in your ears.

He pulls the key from the ignition and the lights cut out, wrapping the both of you in complete darkness. You can make him out just enough, though. Enough to see the predatory look on his face, enough to sense the danger you’ve placed yourself in.

Your mouth goes dry and your brain goes fuzzy as you watch Joel reach into his pants pocket, pulling out a switchblade that glimmers in the moonlight. The small knife makes a snapping noise when it opens, gleaming, taunting you. Excitement buzzed through your body, a nagging voice in the back of your head screaming to run.

“Better get a move on,” Joel whispers, his face shadowed and lips pressed into a grim line. The energy had shifted so quickly that you were uncertain what to do. Even if you did try to run, you doubted that your shaking body would make it very far.

A brooding intensity surrounded Joel, and even though he barely moved to reach back and grab something out of the back seat, the air still felt tense with a silent warning. In his free hand was a gas mask, worn and frayed. The round, glass eye lenses were clouded, displaying its years of disuse. He reached up with one hand to slip the mask down his face, leaving only his eyes revealed.

The white-hot heat that was burning through your veins somehow ignited even further when he finally locked eyes with you. Joel’s eyes were narrowed, carrying a different energy behind them; one that was full of mischief and lust. The moment lasted for a couple of beats…

One, two, three…

And then Joel’s hand snapped out, reaching rapidly to lock around your wrist. Thinking, breathing; none of it mattered. The only thing on your mind was running, some animalistic survival instinct that you didn’t know still existed within you taking over. Your wrist easily slipped out of his grip as you flung open the car door, escaping Joel and running into the dark forest.

There was a chill in the air that made your breath fan out in front of you while you ran, your heavy footsteps practically echoing through the woods. Every couple of moments you would stop and glance around, attempting to see through the endless rows of trees. You didn’t see anything and only heard the sound of your own breathing.

Joel could be scary when he wanted to. Like that one time, a couple weeks into knowing him. Some asshole had followed you around the grocery store late one evening, trailing behind aisle after aisle until your hands were shaking in fear. Joel was one of the only people you had befriended in town since you were new to the area.

He’d showed up five minutes after you’d called him, despite the fact that you knew he lived over ten minutes away. Joel approached the man, and you were grateful that you weren’t the one he was speaking to. Despite not hearing his words from where you were standing, you could see the dark anger on his face, a look that made your blood run cold.

The guy who was following you left immediately after, scurrying off with his tail between his legs. Joel followed you home in his truck even though your apartment was on the other side of town. He’d never been scary to you .

Until now.

Joel’s body came out of nowhere, grabbing you and yanking you against him. The switchblade pressed onto your throat, your heartbeat pounding against the cold metal. You couldn’t see Joel since his vice-grip had your back pushed on his chest.

“You call that running?” he asked, letting his fingers skate down the skin of your thigh, just under the low cut of your sundress. His calloused fingertips caught against your soft skin, raising higher and higher.

“I think you wanted me to catch you. Here you are, lettin’ me rub on you like the little slut I knew you were. I haven’t even properly touched you yet, but you’re already spreading your legs for me.”

Your face warmed at his degrading words. He was right. The excitement of the story wasn’t only the anticipation, but it was the thrill of the hunt. As much as you wanted Joel to touch you, to make your vision blur just from using his fingers, you knew you couldn’t give in so easily.

With all of your strength, you push away both of his hands, ripping out of his grip. He reached down to grab you but you snatched his shirt instead, pulling at it fiercely in an attempt to dodge under him. You heard the fabric rip, but you were too afraid to really acknowledge it.

You took it as an opportunity to escape, dodging Joel’s grasp. You wasted no time in steadying yourself before sprinting away, only sparing a quick glance back to see Joel. His shirt was half ripped, the gas mask blocking any form of expression on his face.

“Damn, baby,” Joel spoke. He stood, shrugging off his flannel before using the switchblade to finish ripping the fabric of his shirt. “If you wanted me to get naked, you should’ve just said so.”

As much as you wanted to watch the way Joel’s chest flexed in the moonlight, you couldn’t handle any distractions. You had to run.

And you did run for what felt like hours. By the time you stopped for a moment, your heartbeat was in your throat and you could feel a slick mess building between your thighs. Your legs were speckled with dirt and pieces of leaves from the way you were kneeling on the ground, searching for Joel.

You didn’t see anything extraordinary through the branches of the forest, but you heard something. A snap.

It was enough to get you back on your feet in an attempt to flee.

You couldn’t see him, but you could feel him. Though your eyes betrayed you, you could sense his closeness, could sense the space between you lessening with each passing moment. Sweat beads at your hairline and your panting echoes between the trees.

The cracking sound of wood beneath his heavy work boots cuts through the deafening silence, and you turn abruptly and throw yourself in the opposite direction. But Joel’s fast, too fast .

He catches up to you in a second, and you know you won’t get lucky twice, yet still you try. You push your legs as hard as you can, running as fast as you can, trying to navigate the uneven terrain.

Joel’s fingertips grasp your shoulder, and you pull away from him so violently you lose your balance, scraping your knees against the rough forest floor.

You quickly turn onto your back, kicking yourself away from him, trying to see through the thick fog of terror in your mind. His slow breaths sound mechanical through the gas mask’s respirator. He looms over you menacingly, looking every bit the wicked man you know he can be.

His shoulders rise and fall slowly, his breaths even while you struggle to catch yours. He tilts his head, a predator indulging in the chase.

And you know right then that you’ve been caught. Stuck in the spider’s web with no hope of extraction. Your voice shakes when you speak. “Joel?”

There’s no softness in him now. None of that gentle ease he always has with you. He lowers himself to the ground, knees on either side of your hips, and grabs for your hands.

You struggle against his hold, even knowing it’s useless. He wraps a calloused palm around your wrists and squeezes tight, and when you buck your hips up against him, trying to wiggle out from beneath his heavy weight, it serves no purpose but to further diminish the little energy remaining in your weary limbs.

Joel raises your arms above your head, pushing your too-sensitive skin deep into the earth, trapping you in place. You can hear the clicking of his tongue behind the mask. “Stupid little girl,” he says. “Never had a chance. Did you?”

His voice is muffled, deeper. You know it’s Joel. Behind the fear, behind the adrenaline, you know it’s him. But it doesn’t sound like him, not in the way you’re so accustomed to, and it sends a chill down your spine.

He adjusts his position, sliding down your legs just enough to grip the bottom of your dirt-stained sundress and rip it upwards. The air feels like ice against your center, slick with your arousal. You clit pulses with need, despite the way you still fight him, struggling nonsensically in his tight hold. “Look at how fuckin’ wet you are, baby,” he says. “Haven’t even touched you yet an’ that pretty pussy’s just fuckin’ crying for it, ain’t she?”

Your spine bends, arching off the ground. The sounds that leave your mouth are animalistic, a desperate whimpering, a wanton need.

And then suddenly his hand is tangled in your hair, pulling hard at the roots, holding your head up just enough to witness your exposure. “I said look ,” Joel grits out. “Want you to watch just how fuckin’ selfish she is. You listenin’ to me?”

“Yes— yes, ” you choke out. The muscles in your neck strain to keep your head held high enough to see the moment he lets go of your hair. But you heard him loud and clear, and you do just as he says.

His hand slips between your legs, and you fight the urge to let squeeze your eyes shut as his fingers slide over your clit. He circles it roughly and you can feel yourself clench around nothing, your body begging to be filled, begging for Joel . He uses the perfect amount of pressure, deft fingers moving fast, and it takes less than a minute before that familiar warmth begins to trickle in.

But you want more, you always want more, and so you find yourself lifting your hips upwards, trying to shift his hand lower, trying to let him know right where you need him most.

Joel laughs. A sick, maniacal sound that sends a cold flood of terror through you. “See? What’d I say? Fuckin’ greedy ,” he says. You know it’s meant to be an insult, but there’s a strange fondness as he says it. An undertone of worship.

You sigh out his name, unable to form another word, forgetting all else that came before this moment, disregarding all things that may come after. All that matters is this, all that matters is him .

“She wants it so bad,” he murmurs. “An’ I’m gonna give it to her.” His movements are cruel and almost painful as he turns you over, pulling your hips out from under him. Joel shifts your wrists to his other hand and sets them against the small of your back, using his free hand to force your head down. The earthy smell of decaying leaves greets you, and you greedily suck in cold breaths of air, trying to will your heart to slow its racing.

You can’t see his movements but you can feel him shift behind you, and a second later can hear the familiar clink of his belt buckle and the swish as he rips it from the loops of his jeans. The bite of leather is harsh as he winds it around your wrists, tightening it in a familiar, practiced way.

“Joel,” you breathe out. It sounds like a plea in your ears, and maybe it is. Because everything is too much, too intense . You need all of him, you think. Need the wickedness, that dark thing he’s been hiding all this time. But you need your Joel, too. The one who buckles you in, who kisses your forehead before he leaves for work in the morning. The one you know will always keep you safe, even when he defiles you. “ Joel ,” you say again.

His hands freeze on your hips, and you can feel the warmth radiating from his skin as he leans over and presses his cheek to yours. He waits for you to speak, giving you as long as you need to sort through the heightened emotions.

Your brain feels like mush and you struggle to form a coherent thought that’s more than one or two words strung together. You know you’re terrified. But you know, too, that you don’t want him to stop. And so all you manage to say is a barely audible, “I love you.”

He cradles your head in his hand, thumb stroking gently over your temple. And then he runs his nose over the curve of your jaw, and though he doesn’t say it, doesn’t break the spell he’s so carefully created in order to indulge your wildest fantasies, you know that no one has ever loved anyone the way that Joel Miller loves you.

But just as quickly as that gentleness appeared, it vanishes into nothing like the fog of your breath in the cold air.

“Gonna show you what happens when little girls roam into the woods,” he says. You can feel his erection as he presses it against you, heavier and harder than you think it’s ever been before. “Can try an’ hunt down the big bad wolf all you want. But if he catches you …”

You’re a trembling mess in his strong hands. His words are the only beacon keeping you grounded, you’re certain of it.

The metal teeth of his zipper grate as he pulls it down and undoes the button of his jeans, pulling his cock out. He slides the head through your arousal, coating himself in your slick. “Just know, whatever he decides to do with you is gonna hurt .”

And then he’s pushing his length into you in one smooth movement, leaving you no time to adjust to the size of him. The stretch is painful and foreboding, every muscle in your body tensing up at the impact. “ Fuck— oh my God —”

“Can pray all you want, but there’s no one out here to save you,” he spits. Joel doesn’t give you a single second to breathe before he’s rocking his hips into you, setting a punishing pace. You can feel his cock throb inside you, can feel that he’s enjoying this just as much as you are.

You grit your teeth against the pain of it, fingers flexing in his grip. “ Joel —I can’t—!”

“Yes, you can, baby,” he says, voice low and echoing. “I know you can. So shut up and fuckin’ take it.” He leans over you, pressing the side of your face into the ground. You can taste moss and earth but with each thrust, the pain is quickly subsiding, replaced instead with a blinding pleasure.

That warmth builds again, coiling around your spine. Pressure builds quickly and you can feel yourself dripping around him, making a mess of the coarse hair above his cock. “Joel— fuck .”

He reaches on hand around your hip, easily finding your clit and strumming it with swift, practiced movements. You clench around him and he lets out a deep groan in response. When he leans forward and tells you, “Open your mouth,” you do so immediately, brain fuzzy and overstimulated, unwilling to do anything unless he tells you to.

Joel slides two of his fingers into your mouth and shoves them so far down you nearly choke. It’s instinctual when you close your swollen lips around him and suck.

You can hear the smile in his words as he speaks. “There you go,” he mutters. “Told you how this would go, didn’t I? Told you what would happen. Nothin’ but a dumb little slut for me now, baby, hm? Yeah?”

All you can do is nod, unable to form a single coherent thought. Your orgasm hits hard and fast, almost unexpected. It washes through you, electricity dancing beneath your prickling skin. Your moans reverberate through the trees, and you’re suddenly glad he’s driven you so far out so no one can hear you.

“Oh, she likes that ,” Joel says, talking you through it, circling your clit and fucking into you a little harder. “Likes the way it feels to be all full’a me, hm? Yeah, there you go. Gonna give this pretty pussy just what she needs.”

His rhythm falters, staggering just the smallest bit. And while he’s just given you the best orgasm of your fucking life, there’s something about this that makes you feel finally satisfied, full in a way you’ve never been before.

The moment he bottoms out inside of you, Joel turns you on your back and pulls the mask off of his face. His cheeks are flushed and rosy, but there’s a sense of completion in his eyes that you’re sure is mirrored in your own. He kisses your cheeks, your forehead, the bridge of your nose.

And all you can say is, “Oh my God.”

Joel laughs. It’s one of those full, good-natured belly laughs. Your favorite kind. “Well? Was I better than your book?”

You cover your face with your hands, muffling your giggles between your fingers. “Much better.”

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